Hidden Meanings (10 page)

“Bess is a big Evan Sharpless fan, Sally, and I told her you had some super shots of him,” Nancy declared. “I hope they weren't all stolen.”

“As a matter of fact,” Sally said, “I'd just finished printing those pictures, so they were drying in the darkroom. They didn't get stolen with the stuff from our room. I've put them all up in this photo essay.” She pointed to the display.

Bess leaned over to study the photos. The mystery man's face was mostly hidden behind his brown beard, and his build was hard to judge in the baggy khaki pants and army fatigue jacket he was wearing. Still, the picture gave Bess a good idea of his looks.

“Sharpless is so handsome,” Bess said. “I really got excited when I saw him at the banquet yesterday. He was heroic, saving that boy's life.”

“By the way, Gina,” Nancy said casually. “I ran into a guy named Paul Lampedusa, who says he used to date your sister. Do you know him?”

Gina shrugged. “Nope,” she said. “Now that Bianca's at college, I don't meet all her friends. And she has so many boyfriends—like all the Fiorella women.” Nancy flinched and wondered if Gina counted Ned among them.

Just then Jane Sellery walked up. “Still using that vertical grid layout, Gina?” she asked snidely.

Gina flipped her dark hair back over her shoulder. “I don't believe in trendy layout styles,” she said with a sniff. “But I guess they're handy when you have to disguise blurry photographs and badly written copy.”

Jane looked scornfully at Gina. Sally leaned forward to interrupt them. “Look, Bess, there's your idol now,” she said quickly, pointing across the room. Evan Sharpless was winding his way through the displays, stopping to talk to various editors.

“Show him your pictures,” Bess suggested to Sally. “I'll bet he'll be flattered.”

Sally squirmed modestly and tugged on a strand of her curly brown hair. “He'll love it, Sal,” Gina urged. “TV people are always so vain. Mr. Sharpless?” Gina called to him.

The newscaster strolled over. “Mr. Sharpless, look at these great pictures of you that my coeditor took,” Gina said. He leaned over and studied the photo essay briefly.

“Very nice,” he commented blandly. “Good technique.” Then, flashing a smile, he passed on. Sally looked hurt.

“See, Sal, I told you he's stuck-up,” Gina said. “When I do that article for our school newspaper about our experiences at this conference, you can bet I'll expose what a shallow fraud that guy is.”

“Oh, Gina, don't,” Sally pleaded. “You can be so merciless in print.” And in person, too, Nancy thought to herself.

Nancy and Bess soon left the girls to their work. Bess had to go back upstairs to put on her uniform to serve lunch. Nancy headed for Ms. Peabody's office to speak to her about Paul being fired.

As Nancy cut through the lobby, she saw Nick Kessler sitting on a bench by the elevators. He held an open newspaper, though he clearly wasn't reading it. Nancy paused, leaning on a nearby wall while she watched him covertly.

Just then Gina marched past, heading for the elevators, with Ned tagging behind. Nick Kessler held the paper in front of his face so they wouldn't notice him. Nancy ducked around a corner to hide.

Ping!
An elevator arrived. Peeking around the corner, Nancy saw Ned and Gina step inside. Nick Kessler didn't move, but as soon as their elevator closed, he jumped up and ran over to push the Up button. Another elevator soon arrived, and he dashed inside.

Nancy scurried over as the elevator doors closed. She pushed the Up button urgently, hoping that the third elevator wasn't too far away.

It came almost at once. A middle-aged couple got off, tugging bulky suitcases behind them Nancy squeezed past them into the car. Peering out the glass walls, she saw Ned and Gina': elevator glide to a stop above her. She swiftly counted upward. The elevator had stopped on seven.

She punched the button for seven. As her elevator climbed, Nancy noticed through the glass that Nick Kessler's car had also stopped on seven.

At the seventh floor Nancy hurried to an alcove in the corridor. She peered out and saw Gina and Ned at the door of Ned's old room, where Gina and Sally were staying now. Nick Kessler seemed to have vanished.

Nancy saw Ned open the door and step inside, probably to check the room, she thought. Gina waited in the hallway.

Then Nancy saw Nick's head poke out from the service corridor. Seeing Gina, he darted back. Why was he spying on her? Nancy wondered.

Ned came back out of the room and motioned to Gina to enter. Gina stepped past him, then abruptly stopped. Nancy saw her rise up on her toes, slip an arm around Ned's neck, and kiss him!

Nancy froze as she watched them intently. It sure looked to her as if Ned was kissing Gina back!

Nancy reeled back around the corner. She punched the elevator Down button, feeling sick. That's what I get for snooping on people, she thought wretchedly.

An Up elevator was just stopping. Someone came up behind Nancy and ran for the elevator. She turned, expecting to see Nick Kessler.

It was the bearded man, dressed in the same baggy pants and fatigue jacket he was wearing in the photo! Seeing Nancy, the man looked scared. He rushed past Nancy and into the car. Before Nancy could act, the elevator doors closed and he was gone.

At least we know he's still in the hotel, Nancy thought. But why was he going up? Most guests usually travel between their own floor and the lobby. And if his room wasn't on seven, then why was he here?

Suddenly someone called out, “Miss?” Nancy turned to see Rosita, waving something in her hand—a passkey. “I found it!” Rosita exclaimed.

“Where?” Nancy asked, amazed.

“On the floor in my supply closet,” Rosita said. “I must have dropped it there yesterday.”

“But you searched your closet carefully yesterday,” Nancy said. “Maybe whoever stole the key slipped it under the locked door this morning.” Immediately she thought of the bearded man in the baggy pants. Was that why he was here just now?

Rosita frowned stubbornly. “But that nice man yesterday would not steal my key,” she insisted.

“Maybe he found it in his room and returned it,” Nancy said. “If you see him again, please let me know so we can thank him.” Rosita nodded.

Hearing footsteps, Nancy looked past Rosita and saw Gina and Ned coming down the corridor. Ned started guiltily when he saw Nancy. She flushed.

“Hello, Nancy,” Gina said carelessly. “Anyway, Ned, let's get Sally and go shopping now. She went to lunch, but we can skip it. The food here is so awful anyway. There must be a decent restaurant near the stores. Where
are
the best clothing stores in River Heights?”

“Maybe Nancy can tell you,” Ned suggested.

Gina swiveled and looked at Nancy's faded blue denim skirt and pink cotton T-shirt. “You know where the chic stores are?” she asked skeptically.

Nancy knitted her hands, yearning to put them around Gina's slender throat. Then she looked at Ned and saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes. I imagine there's a drop of humor in this situation, she thought, but I don't feel like searching for it now.

An elevator arrived, and the three stepped inside. Trying to sound friendly, Nancy told Gina about some good shops, conscious of Ned's eyes on them both.

Soon the elevator reached the main lobby, and the three made their way to the banquet room near the Muskoka Lobby. While Gina ran inside to get Sally, Nancy and Ned waited outside the door.

“Nancy,” Ned said in a low voice, “you know you don't have anything to worry about.”

Should I tell him I saw that kiss? Nancy wondered. She began to open her mouth, but at that moment they heard shouts out by the escalators. Nancy and Ned raced to the landing and saw orange flames licking at the sides of one of the felt display boards.

Gina and Sally's display was on fire!

A
MAINTENANCE MAN IN
green coveralls ran across the landing, calling over his shoulder for help. He had a fire extinguisher in his hand. When he reached Gina and Sally's display, he started to spray foam onto the burning felt board.

Ned rushed over to pull a fire alarm on a nearby wall. Nancy grabbed another extinguisher from the wall below the alarm and ran over to help put out the flames.

The smoke from the fire finally reached the smoke detectors in the landing ceiling. Sprinkler heads in the ceiling let off long sprays of water, and Nancy's hair and clothes were soon soaked. The fire dwindled to a wet sizzle.

When the River Heights firefighters arrived, three minutes later, the fire was already out. Lowering her fire extinguisher, Nancy sighed as she looked at what was left. The other students' displays were drenched but otherwise intact. Gina and Sally's display was a black, smoldering mess.

Ned had already gone to find Gina and Sally in the banquet room. As the circle of firefighters stood surveying the scene, Gina pushed past them. Her dark eyes flashed angrily. “This can't be an accident,” she declared hotly. “I stayed up all night writing that copy, and now it's destroyed. Someone has done this on purpose, and I want to know who!”

Joining the crowd, Gary Ruxton looked anguished. “Who discovered the fire?” he demanded.

The maintenance worker who'd helped Nancy put out the fire raised his hand. He was a short, thickset man with curly black hair and a mustache.

“I was replacing some lightbulbs in the Riverview Ballroom,” he said, pointing to the end of the landing. “When I came out, I heard fire crackling. At first I couldn't see where it was—there were too many displays in the way. But then the flames came shooting out. I found an extinguisher and ran over.”

“Was anyone else in the area?” Nancy asked.

The worker shook his head. “No one,” he said.

“Did any electrical items short out?” the fire captain asked. “Any sign of a dropped cigarette? What about the covers on these display boards—are they flammable?” The fire captain and Mr. Ruxton moved aside to discuss the fire. The other firefighters headed down the escalator, while a maintenance crew began to clean up.

Nancy turned to Sally and Gina. Sally's gray eyes welled up, and one fat tear rolled over her black lashes and onto her cheek. “Those were the only prints I had of those pictures,” she moaned softly. “The negatives disappeared when our room was burned last night. I wanted to enter those shots in the photography competition. I'm sure they would have won a prize. But there's no way now.”

Gina put an arm around Sally's shoulders. “I'm going to buy you a new camera right now,” she said firmly. “Then you can take more pictures and you'll enter those in the contest. And you will win, I know it. Don't let these people get to you, Sally. That's what they
want.”
She led her friend away.

“Gotta go,” Ned said quickly to Nancy. “But look—we need to talk. After she takes Sally shopping, Gina will be in classes all afternoon. Can you meet me at the café at three?”

Nancy nodded listlessly. Ned lifted her chin with one finger and looked deep into her blue eyes. She had to smile. “See you at three,” she promised.

As Ned hurried off, Nancy knelt to look closer at the area around the charred display. She had to agree with Gina—this was no accident. She sniffed the air for the telltale smells of gasoline or lighter fluid, sure signs of arson.

On the carpet at the base of the display, Nancy spotted several blackened matches. The fire
had
been started intentionally!

Then, as she sat back on her heels, Nancy spied a neon orange matchbook lying on the carpet, five feet away. She reached over to pick it up. The cover was open, and every match inside had been torn out.

Closing the cover, she looked at the front of the sodden matchbook. Bold blue letters spelled out Ben's Back Room—Washington, D.C.

A clue at last! Nancy thought triumphantly. Clutching the matchbook, she hurried over to give her evidence to the fire chief.

• • •

As soon as Bess was off duty, Nancy and George met her by the pool. “Let's review our list of suspects,” Nancy suggested. “The fire broke out at twelve-thirty, so it was probably set about twelve twenty-five. Where was Jane Sellery?”

“She was one of the first people in the banquet room at lunch today,” Bess reported. “No way would she have been able to set that fire.”

“Nick Kessler was in the hotel, and so was Mr. Baggy Pants,” Nancy put in. “I didn't see them anywhere near that landing, it's true. But they might have had time to get there before me, if they took some other route from the seventh floor. Now that I think of it, the guy with the beard took the elevator to a higher floor when I saw him. He could have done that to throw me—and then he could have gone down again.”

George drew a cautious breath. “And then there's Paul,” she volunteered. “He was near the hotel this morning, at least. How about if I call him and see whether he has an alibi between the time we saw him and twelve-thirty?”