Mystery at Moorsea Manor Read online

  wondering if Georgina Trevor and Gloria Trevellyan

  are one and the same.”

  Annabel's jaw dropped. “Georgina? Gloria?” she

  said, aghast. “What makes you think so?”

  “Well, this is a small thing and maybe a coincidence,

  but the earring has a morning glory on it, which fits

  with Gloria's nickname,” Nancy explained. “Also,

  Georgina is probably in her early to mid-forties—about

  twelve years older than you. And it makes sense that

  the villain would be familiar with this place—she, or

  he, would have an easier time organizing the pranks.”

  “Yes, like knowing about the dumbwaiter in the

  pantry that no one ever uses,” Annabel said. “I'll bet

  that's where she hid Nigel's meat loaf until she had a

  chance to switch it with his real order.”

  Nancy shot Annabel a smile. “Also, come to think of

  it, you and Georgina look a little alike,” she said

  carefully. “The red hair and small noses.”

  “Dear me,” Annabel said, looking alarmed.

  Just then, something outside the window caught

  Nancy's eye. It was Georgina—sneaking through some

  underbrush on the far side of the lawn and heading

  toward the cliff above the beach. Moments later she

  disappeared down the cliffside stairs.

  Nancy jumped up. “Annabel, I just saw Georgina.

  She's on her way to the beach.”

  Annabel swiveled around in her chair to look

  outside. “What in the world is she up to?”

  “There's no telling,” Nancy said. “She might be

  sneaking down there to do something to the boats for

  the party later. She was acting pretty suspicious—

  sneaking through the underbrush instead of walking

  across the lawn. She definitely didn't want to be seen.”

  “Nancy, really, I'd be happier if we called the

  police,” Annabel said. Her hand shook as she picked up

  the phone.

  “Not yet,” Nancy said. “Let me follow Georgina first.

  As I said, if I can catch her in the act, we'll have proof

  that she's the person we're looking for.”

  Annabel looked at Nancy hesitantly. “Okay, Nancy,”

  she said, “but please be careful. If Georgina's capable

  of sending guests into quicksand and beehives, she's

  obviously dangerous. I don't like the idea of your being

  alone with her. In fact, I'd like to find Hugh to back

  you up.”

  “Okay,” Nancy said, “but I'm heading down to the

  beach this minute. If I don't hurry, I might miss her in

  action.”

  Nancy cut through the dining room and out the

  kitchen door. She raced across the lawn toward the

  channel, skimming over the grass like a deer. At the top

  of the stairs, she paused, looking down at the sea. Even

  though the day was clear, the winds had picked up

  since morning. Waves swelled on the choppy water.

  Rushing down the stairs, Nancy scanned the beach

  for Georgina. She was nowhere in sight. A sudden gust

  of wind swirled up sand, stinging Nancy's eyes. She

  shielded her face in the crook of her arm.

  The breeze died for a moment, and Nancy looked

  up. Four rowboats were pulled up on the beach near a

  large rock, all set for the exploration party. Nancy

  rushed over and glanced inside them. No Georgina.

  She climbed into the nearest boat, curious to see if

  she could find any evidence of sabotage. Hunching

  over, she inspected the hull.

  The rowboat suddenly lurched, and Nancy stumbled

  backward and landed on the bottom of the boat. But

  before she could figure out what was going on, the

  rowboat started to slide across the sand toward the sea!

  Nancy lay on her back, thrown off balance by the

  jerky movements of the boat as the waves slapped

  against it. She struggled up onto her elbows.

  Peering over the stern of the boat was Georgina, her

  face full of grim determination. “Good riddance to you,

  Nancy Drew,” Georgina cackled as she gave the boat

  one final push. “You're going out to sea now, and no

  one will be the wiser!”

  The strong current took hold of the boat, and

  Georgina waded back toward shore. As the choppy

  waters buffeted it, Nancy sat up, grabbing for the oars.

  Her heart sank. The oars that Annabel and Hugh

  had attached earlier were gone! Georgina must have

  taken them, Nancy realized. She sat up helplessly in

  the boat as the current swept it out to sea.

  15. Strong Swimmers

  Nancy glanced around the boat. Other than a bailing

  bucket and a rope coiled in the prow, it was empty.

  She peered out to sea. Nothing but the horizon lay

  ahead, but on her right was a series of rocks that led

  into shore. Once more, her gaze darted to the rope.

  Her mind clicked away.

  If I can loop the rope onto one of those rocks, she

  thought, then I can use the other rocks as stepping-

  stones to shore. She bit her lip. Her idea was a long

  shot, she realized. The waves were rocking the boat

  like crazy; even if her aim was good enough to lasso a

  rock, the rope might not hold on to its slippery surface.

  What other choice did she have? She picked up the

  rope and quickly knotted a loop. The rocks were

  getting closer—close enough for the rope to reach

  them, she judged.

  Nancy waved the rope around in the air to get the

  feel of it, like a cowboy preparing to lasso a steer.

  Then, without wasting another moment, she hurled it

  toward the nearest rock.

  The rope missed, falling in a limp circle in the

  churning water. Adrenaline pumped through her as she

  drew it in. The current was pushing the boat away from

  the rocks. If she didn't catch the rock this time, she

  wouldn't get another chance.

  Nancy gritted her teeth, trying to estimate the

  distance between the boat and the rock. Once more,

  she took aim. Whirling the rope in a circle above her,

  she fixed her gaze on the jagged point of the rock.

  She threw the rope, holding her breath as it sailed

  through the air. To her amazement, it caught the rock,

  looping around its middle. She yanked it tight. For one

  heart-stopping moment, the rope slipped up the rock

  toward the top. Her jaw clenched. Was it going to

  hold? she wondered.

  Nancy let the rope slacken for a moment, then

  carefully tugged it. This time, she felt a resistance, as if

  she had just caught a fish. She let out a long breath of

  relief. She'd hooked the rock!

  Hand over hand, Nancy hauled the boat closer to

  the rock. Waves bashed the hull as it collided with the

  huge boulder.

  Leaning into the rock, she tightened the rope, doing

  her best to keep steady. If she could just pull herself

  onto it without getting smashed by the waves, she

  thought.

  Nancy threw her arms around the rock. Hugging it

  for dear life, she dropped the rope and clambered out

  of the boat. Instantly,
the current swept the boat away.

  Waves crashed around her legs as she struggled to

  lift herself higher onto the rock. Barnacles tore at her

  hands. She sneaked a look down at the swirling surf. If

  she let go of the rock now, she'd be dashed against it—

  or else sucked out to sea.

  With an enormous effort of will, Nancy strained to

  lift herself onto the rock. Her sneakers gained a

  toehold against the barnacles, and a moment later, she

  was up. Doubled over, she gasped for breath as she

  stood precariously on top of the boulder.

  Something moved ahead of her. Nancy jolted

  upright, just in time to see Georgina standing in a row

  boat, brandishing an oar. Aiming at Nancy's shoulders,

  Georgina made a wicked swipe through the air.

  Nancy ducked in the nick of time, and the oar

  passed harmlessly over her head. She's trying to knock

  me back into the water! Nancy realized. Nancy raised

  her head. “Gloria Trevellyan!” she cried, standing up

  straight and fixing Gloria with a penetrating stare. “Put

  down your oar!”

  Gloria froze. Her colorless eyes were pinpricks of

  hatred as she glared at Nancy.

  “You've been trying to drive the Petersons out of

  business to benefit the Singhs,” Nancy declared. “I'm

  guessing they'll give you a share of the profits if they

  develop the land—or something like that. I bet they

  realized you'd be happy to help them because you're

  jealous that Annabel owns your parents' estate. I'm

  onto your game, Gloria, so you might as well give up

  now.”

  For a split second Gloria stared at Nancy. Then she

  burst into high-pitched peals of laughter—an eerie,

  hollow sound half-muffled by the wind. “The Singhs

  had nothing to do with my plot,” she proclaimed. “I

  only hoped they'd want Moorsea badly enough to help

  me out, but no such luck.”

  Nancy hesitated, surprised. “So you asked them for

  help with your plan, instead of the other way around?”

  “Yes, and they refused me,” Gloria told her. “After

  you caught me in the kitchen last night, I worried that

  you might begin to suspect me. So this morning, I went

  to them for help.”

  Nancy stared at Gloria. What could her motive be in

  sabotaging Moorsea Manor if the Singhs weren't

  paying her? she wondered. Was it simply her

  resentment that Annabel owned it? Gloria's pranks

  seemed like a great deal of trouble and risk to make up

  only for that reason.

  “I can't believe you went to all this trouble just to get

  revenge on Annabel for owning the place,” Nancy said.

  “I'm tired of all this talk,” Gloria sputtered. “I'm

  afraid you'll never get to know my full story.” Once

  more Gloria raised her oar, her boat teetering slightly.

  With an evil gleam in her eye, she lowered her oar

  again.

  “Gloria,” Nancy began, her shoulders squared.

  “Annabel is onto you. She went to alert the police. It's

  just a matter of minutes before you'll be arrested.”

  “Liar! You're bluffing just to save your skin,” Gloria

  cried.

  “It's the truth,” Nancy said evenly. “The police are

  on their way. So far, you haven't hurt anyone seriously,

  Gloria, so the courts might be lenient with you. You

  don't want to make things worse for yourself.”

  “You think you're so smart, Nancy Drew,” Gloria

  spat out. “Well, here's what I think of you and your

  clever detective work.” With a sudden whoosh, she

  lifted her oar and swiped it at Nancy.

  Nancy ducked—a moment too late. With a violent

  whack, the oar butted Nancy's shoulder, knocking her

  into the sea.

  Waves lashed at Nancy, buffeting her mercilessly

  against the rock. She struggled to keep her head above

  the waves. Choking on a mouthful of seawater, she

  reached for the rock, desperately trying to get a grip on

  its slippery surface.

  But the current was too strong. No matter how hard

  she tried to hold on to the rock, the tide swept her

  farther and farther out. Even though Nancy was a

  strong swimmer, she knew that in minutes she'd be in

  the open channel with the land receding from view.

  Her body might as well have been a piece of seaweed

  or driftwood for all the control she had in the powerful

  surf.

  More seawater poured down her throat as she

  fought to stay afloat. Coughing, she flailed with her

  arms—and suddenly touched something firm. She

  glanced to the right. A pair of black eyes stared up at

  her from under a wet mop of hair. Maisie!

  Making loud snuffling noises, Maisie swam up next

  to Nancy. Nancy flung her arms around the dog,

  hoping she'd be strong enough to help her swim.

  With the waves slapping against their faces, Maisie

  paddled through the churning sea, buoying Nancy up

  the whole way back to shore.

  Nancy straggled up on the beach. Water poured off

  her T-shirt and shorts. Maisie shook herself, sending

  drops of water flying. Out of the corner of her eye,

  Nancy saw Gloria jumping onto the beach from her

  boat.

  Annabel, Hugh, and George were rushing down the

  wooden stairs. “Hold it right there, Gloria!” Hugh

  shouted. “The police are on their way.”

  Gloria froze.

  “The game is up, Gloria,” Annabel said, staring at

  her sister as if she were seeing her for the first time.

  She shook her head. “What ever made you do this?”

  she breathed.

  “As if you'd have to ask,” Gloria hissed.

  Annabel sighed. “You must have discovered the

  terms of our parents' wills.”

  “That's right—through public access to the

  documents,” Gloria replied. “I learned that they left

  you everything.”

  “Not exactly,” Annabel countered. “First of all, they

  thought you were dead—they hadn't heard from you

  for over twenty years. Naturally, they left Moorsea

  Manor to me.”

  “Naturally!” Gloria snapped.

  Annabel went on. “But they stipulated that if I ever

  sold Moorsea and you showed up within a year after

  the sale, then you and I would split the money. They

  knew you could find out the terms of the will easily

  enough. Since you hadn't even bothered to tell them

  whether you were alive or dead, I'd say their will was

  pretty generous to you.”

  “Generous!” Gloria said. “That's what you think.

  What if you had never sold Moorsea? I would have

  been left out in the cold, with nothing.”

  “But I would have let you live at Moorsea with me. I

  don't see it as mine—I see it as belonging to all the

  Trevellyans. Dad wanted to keep Moorsea in the

  family. He would have been thrilled to have both of us

  living here.”

  Gloria sneered. “How sweet of you to offer.”

  “But why plan an elaborate sabotage th
at hurt

  people?” Annabel went on in a pained voice. “Why

  didn't you just come to me and tell me who you were?

  It's because you never cared about Moorsea anyway.

  All you ever wanted was the money. You were trying to

  bankrupt my business so I'd be forced to sell.”

  “Speaking of the sabotage,” George cut in, “how did

  you manage to substitute your fake clues for Annabel's

  clues at the treasure hunt?”

  “That was easy,” Gloria said, chortling at the

  memory. “I knew that Annabel had hidden her clues a

  few hours before the hunt began, and she kept

  everyone's first clue in the top drawer of the dining

  room sideboard—I watched her put them there. So I

  followed a few of the leads and substituted some of my

  own clues. Creative, weren't they?”

  “Works of art,” George said dryly.

  “What about the danger sign that had been on the

  gate to the beehives?” Nancy asked. “What'd you do

  with that?”

  “I tore it off and stuck it under a nearby rock,”

  Gloria told her. “And just in case you're still

  wondering, it was / who threw the bronze horse from

  the upstairs window before ducking back into my

  room.” She paused, scowling. “I had to scoot under my

  bed when Annabel rudely burst in.

  “And what about the snake?” Nancy asked. “Is he

  some sort of pet?”

  “No, only a lucky find. I was strolling in the garden

  early this morning and noticed him curled up inside an

  empty watering can.” Gloria wrinkled her nose. “But I

  had to stay in my room with that creature all morning

  till I got a chance to plant him in Malcolm's sink.”

  Just then four police officers ran down the wooden

  stairs, brandishing wooden clubs.

  “You can put your clubs away, gentlemen,” Gloria

  said, raising her arms in surrender. “My sister here has

  won her war.” Then she offered each arm to an officer

  as if they were escorts at a ball and allowed them to

  lead her quietly away.

  There was a long moment of silence. Overhead, a

  gull cried. Waves slapped against the wet sand. Taking

  a deep breath, Annabel murmured, “Even though

  Gloria's going to jail and won't be plaguing me at

  Moorsea, my life will never be the same. I have a sister

  now.”

  “Yes,” Nancy said. “In one morning, your whole life

  has changed.”

  Once more everyone was silent, taking stock of the