Trail of Lies (11 page)

Nancy explained about the mysterious hand that had pushed her down the stairs.

Amanda's gray eyes flashed with concern. “You could have been badly hurt.”

Nancy nodded. “I assume that was the general idea,” she said dryly.

“It wasn't me,” Amanda cried. “Whatever you think about me, I would never, ever do that.”

Nancy watched Amanda closely, trying to decide if she was telling the truth or if she was an accomplished actress.

“You said I had a motive for smuggling,” Amanda continued. “What do you mean by that?”

“Money. Amanda, I saw your salary when I was going through the books. There's no way you can afford all those furs and that huge gold ring.” Nancy's eyes dropped to Amanda's right hand. It was bare. “Where
is
your ring?”

Tears welled in Amanda's eyes. “Oh, Nancy,
I've been so
dumb,”
she said, her voice cracking. “You're right. I can't afford those furs. The payments are way over my head. I tried to return them to the store, but the furrier just laughed at me. He said no one wants used furs.”

Amanda held out the hand that no longer sported the gold nugget ring. “I'd already sold Craig my share of the cabin that he and I inherited from our grandfathers. And I took a couple of advances on my paycheck—that was why I got so nervous when you wanted to see the books. It's not illegal or anything, but I should have asked Mr. Wilcox.” She paused, gulping back tears.

“Go on,” Nancy prodded.

“The only thing I had left of any value was my ring. I didn't have any choice. I had to sell it. I needed the money to pay for the furs.” Tears began to trickle down her face. “That ring was a gift from my grandfather, too. He had it made from the first nugget he panned and gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday. Now I've lost it, all because I was so silly.”

“I still don't see why you've been avoiding me,” Nancy said.

Amanda turned her tearstained face toward Nancy. “The day you came to look at the books was the day I had to see the jeweler. I was nervous because I didn't want to go. And
when you asked to see the books, I got scared that you'd tell Mr. Wilcox I'd been borrowing on my salary.”

Nancy nodded. So far, Amanda's story had the sound of truth.

“Later on,” Amanda continued, “I saw you and Lindsay across the street and heard you calling me, but I had just sold the ring, and I was so upset I didn't want to talk to anyone. That's why I walked the other way and went into the lobby of that building. There was a bunch of people going in, so I got into the middle of the group to avoid the doorman and went up in the elevator.” She looked at Nancy again. “I waited there until I thought you'd probably given up looking for me. Then I went home.”

“I tried to call you at home,” Nancy told her.

Amanda shrugged. “I heard the phone, but I didn't feel like talking to anyone.” She looked at her hand again. “To someone else it may have been just a ring, but it was my last link to my grandfather. The furs aren't worth losing that. I've been an idiot.”

Nancy touched Amanda's shoulder to comfort her. She felt a sense of relief after hearing her story. Amanda wasn't involved in the smuggling. She was a girl who'd made a foolish mistake and was now paying for it.

Amanda pulled out a tissue and blew her nose. “What did you mean about Steve?” she asked in a muffled voice. “You know, when you asked if I'd gotten involved through him. You don't think he'd use his own father as a cover for criminal activities, do you? Because I have to tell you, Steve would never do anything like that. I know I don't say many nice things about him, but he's not a criminal.”

Steve's not a criminal. George had said the same thing, Nancy reflected.

George! Suddenly Nancy remembered that her friend was still unaccounted for. “I don't know anything for sure yet,” she told Amanda. “But I'll find out, don't worry. I've got to get back to the Wilcoxes' now.” She smiled at the other girl as Amanda got out of the car. “Thanks for being honest with me.”

Nancy drove back to the Wilcox house and hurried inside. She checked the foyer closet, but George's parka was not there.

Going back outside, Nancy noticed that it had started to snow. She walked to the barn. It was silent, and when she went inside the dogs were gone. So was the sled. Steve and Craig must have taken them out for a run.

Nancy walked through the barn slowly. Something bothered her about George's disappearance, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She found herself standing by the stall
where Steve and Craig stored the burlap bags of dry dog food.

As Nancy looked around, a tiny scrap of bright red cloth near the floor caught her eye. It had snagged on a nail that stuck halfway out of a wooden post. She bent quickly to examine it.

Nancy thought she recognized it. It looked as though it had been torn from George's silk scarf, the one that her mother had given her just before they left River Heights.

Then Nancy spotted something that sent chills rippling down her spine. Half under the pallet that the bags of dog food lay on, and almost buried by straw, was the rest of George's scarf.

Gingerly, Nancy lifted it up. It had been ripped almost in two.

Quickly she strode around the pallet to examine the rest of the stall. On the other side, the straw had been kicked away from the wood floor, and one of the bags of dog food had been ripped open. Brown, freeze-dried nuggets had spilled out over the floor. That told Nancy all she needed to know. A struggle had taken place here.

Her sharp eyes noticed something glinting inside the gaping hole in the bag of dog food. Carefully, Nancy reached inside and pushed her hand through the loose nuggets. She felt
something hard and smooth and took it out. It was a small ivory carving of a bear.

Nancy's mind stood still for a second as she took in the little carving. Then it was churning again. Things were falling into place.

And then she knew, with absolute certainty, who the smuggler was.

M
OTIVE AND OPPORTUNITY
. One person had them both.

“Craig Miller,” Nancy said aloud.

His motive was simple. He'd made no secret of needing money so that he could afford his own dog team. And as the night watchman at the shipyard, he had access to the ships. He could slip into the cargo hold and unload the ivory while he was supposed to be on duty.

Craig had been at the shipyard when the lights went off in the cargo hold. He'd been at the office when Nancy was pushed down the stairs. He'd been at the track when the firecracker exploded.

Nancy thought about how Craig had said
that Steve made him do all the chores. That was a clever lie—it made Steve look like an insensitive rich kid, and it also made it seem perfectly natural that Craig never let anyone else near the food bags where his illegal ivory was cached.

Craig had had luck on his side, too, she reflected. The Totem Pole's ivory supplier had described a “tall young man driving a dogsled,” and Nancy had immediately assumed it was Steve. But Craig was nearly as tall as Steve, if only she had stopped to think about it.

The clues had been there all along. But through it all, Craig had drawn Nancy's suspicions to other people—he'd suggested John was hiding something. He'd led her along a trail of lies.

Nancy was willing to bet it was Craig who'd concealed the whip on Steve's sled, and now he'd done something to George!

Nancy bit her finger as she tried to think. If I were Craig, what would I have done with someone who walked in on me and caught me red-handed? she wondered. Where would I take her where no one else would find her?

Suddenly an idea struck her. Nancy ran back to the house and raced up the porch stairs two at a time. “John!” she called, barging into the kitchen. But the butler wasn't there. To her
surprise, Nancy found Steve in the kitchen, making himself a sandwich. Her heart sank. She'd thought he was with Craig.

“Where's Craig?” she asked, unable to disguise the tension in her voice.

Steve turned and looked at her as if she were slightly demented. “He went out after we trained the dogs today.”

Nancy walked over and stood directly in front of Steve. There was no time for their personal disagreements. Too much hinged on taking swift action.

“Listen, Steve, and listen carefully. We don't have very much time. Did you take the dogs out for a run first thing this morning?”

Steve slapped a piece of cheese onto his sandwich. “No. Craig did. He does that every morning.”

“Then you've got to help me,” Nancy said.

“Is this another one of your great melodramas?” Steve asked skeptically. He picked up his plate and headed for the den.

“I'm serious!” Nancy insisted, following him.

Steve looked at her. “I hate to tell you this, but you're the last person on earth I want to help. You've caused a whole lot of trouble around here.” He plopped down on the couch.

Nancy reached down and grabbed Steve's shoulder. “Forget how you feel about me,” she
said fiercely. “Think about George. She's in trouble.”

There was a flicker of concern in Steve's eyes. “What about George?” he demanded.

“She wasn't at Lindsay's house as Craig had said,” Nancy explained. She took the small ivory bear from her parka pocket and held it in front of the young man. “I found this hidden in the barn.” Quickly she explained how she had seen the torn scarf, the signs of struggle—and her suspicions about Craig Miller.

“John told me George went out to the kennels early this morning looking for you. I think she accidentally caught Craig red-handed when he was hiding the carvings. So he kidnapped her. Steve, she's in terrible danger. Craig could do anything!”

Steve stood, a look of disbelief on his face. He took a menacing step toward Nancy. “I don't believe you!” he cried. “Craig's my friend. He's not a kidnapper.”

Nancy stood her ground, speaking calmly but forcefully. “Steve, there's no time to waste. I know you don't like me, but we've got to work together. It's the only way we can save George.”

Perhaps it was the urgency in her voice. Or perhaps Steve knew that Nancy cared for George as much as he did. Doubt flickered through his eyes. He took a deep breath.

“What is it you want me to do?” he asked, finally.

“We need to get to Craig's grandfather's cabin. I'm sure he took George there this morning when he took the dogs out. We've got to get there before he hurts her.”

Steve sighed. “Well, we can take the dogs,” he suggested, going out to the foyer. “But you're wrong about Craig. You'll see.”

“Steve,” Nancy said, “the dogs are gone.”

“What?” Steve's face went slack with shock. Then he grabbed his parka and put on his boots. As soon as he was ready, he and Nancy ran to the barn. They slid the wooden door open, and Nancy watched Steve's eyes widen as he took in the rows of empty straw beds.

“Craig took them!” There was a note of surprise and horror in Steve's voice. Until this moment, Nancy could tell, he hadn't really believed her. Now he knew she was right.

Steve wasted no words. “There are no roads to the cabin,” he said. “Can you ski or snowshoe?”

Nancy shook her head. “Too slow. Let's go to Lindsay's. We'll use her team.”

“Okay.” Steve nodded.

The snow was falling thicker now. Nancy handed Steve the keys to the car. “You're better than I am at driving in this weather.”

The roads were already treacherously icy, and the drive was a slow one. Finally they saw
the welcoming lights of Lindsay's house. Nancy jumped out and raced up the stairs, pressing the doorbell and knocking on the door at the same time.

Within seconds Lindsay opened the door. “What's wrong?” she asked.

Steve was only one step behind Nancy as she entered the house.

“It's George,” Nancy said. “We need your dogs to save her.” Quickly she explained the situation to the astonished girl.

Lindsay sat down heavily on her couch. “I can't believe this.
Craig?”
she said faintly. Then she looked up at Nancy and Steve. “I'm sorry. Of course I'll help,” she said. She reached into the closet and started throwing on her heavy clothes.

Steve shook his head. “We can't all go on the sled. It would be too much weight for the dogs.”

“Steve's the only one who knows the way, Lindsay.” Nancy fixed her eyes on the other girl. “Please. Let us use your team.”

Lindsay hesitated. “Right!” she said at last.

They raced out to the kennels. At Lindsay's direction, Nancy unloaded the bundles from the sled and dragged it out of the barn while Lindsay and Steve harnessed the dogs.

“We'd better use booties—they'll get ice balls between their pads in this wet snow,” Lindsay said when Nancy returned. “Can you
get them?” She gestured to an old dresser that stood in one corner of the barn. “Third drawer.”