An Instict for Trouble Read online

  “Sure,” Ned replied. “But without more evidence the park service can’t launch a full-

  scale investigation. They just don’t have the financial resources to act on our suspicions.”

  “That’s awful,” Nancy said.

  “My sentiments exactly,” Ned agreed. “Of course, the park service did assign a really good ranger named Jack Billings to our proj-

  ect. But his job is to help us, not track down poachers.”

  “Just what is it you’re doing in this project?”

  Nancy asked, stretching her legs out. “I know you’re studying marmots. Are they endan-

  gered?”

  “No, but their cousins, the Vancouver Island marmots, are,” he said. “Professor Trainey’s plan is to research the whistling marmots in Yellowstone so we can figure out what condi-

  tions marmots best thrive in. The information we gather here will be used by biologists to breed Vancouver Island marmots in captiv-

  ity.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Nancy said.

  Ned nodded. “From the first moment I heard Professor Trainey talk about the study, I knew I wanted to help. He even got a federal grant to buy a state-of-the-art tracking sys-

  tem.”

  Nancy cocked her head curiously.

  “Imagine a transmitter no bigger than a dime that tells us not only where the animal is,” Ned went on, “but its body temperature, blood pressure, eating and sleeping cycles-

  it’s just amazing!”

  “And amazingly expensive, I bet,” Nancy commented.

  Ned nodded his agreement and pulled her to her feet. “Come on, I’ll show you around. First stop is our command post.”

  He led Nancy across the campsite to the tiny cabin she had stopped at earlier. He pulled a key ring from his jeans pocket, undid the padlock, pushed open the door, and switched on the light that dangled from the ceiling.

  Nancy followed him inside.

  Along one wall was a plank table that held the computer and printer. A small file cabinet in the comer was heaped high with printouts.

  “The device that receives the radio signals from the transmitters is outside,” Ned ex-

  plained.

  Nancy pointed to a door at the other side of the room and asked, “Where does that go?”

  “To the supply room,” Ned replied. “That’s what we call it, but it’s really just a glorified closet. Still, it’s big enough to hold traps, sacks of food pellets, and other equipment.”

  “Is that where the traps were stolen from?”

  Nancy said.

  “Some of them,” Ned answered. “But we’ve got four marmot observation stations, and we keep traps in the huts there, too.” Ned leaned against the worktable. “It makes me sick to think that the poachers are using our equip-

  ment to steal marmots!”

  Nancy returned to the door and studied the padlock. The shiny brass lock was un-

  scratched. “Who has keys to this cabin?” she asked.

  “Just the professor and Brad,” Ned replied.

  “These are the professor’s keys I have. He gave them to me. We were at observation station two, but he wanted me to come back to check the computer to see if any signals from the missing marmots had shown up.”

  “Could I see one of the traps?” Nancy asked.

  Ned went through the other door and re-

  turned with a wire cage with open doors at each end.

  “We put food inside,” Ned explained.

  “When a marmot steps in to get it, its weight triggers a spring that closes the doors.”

  Ned picked up a small disk attached to a plastic collar. “Then we attach a transmitter to the animal’s neck.”

  Nancy studied the collar. “And the marmots don’t mind?”

  “Usually not,” Ned said with a smile. “Now and then we have to tranquilize one.” He indicated a small hypodermic syringe on a shelf.

  Nancy shuddered.

  “It doesn’t hurt,” he insisted. “And anyway, we don’t have to do it very often. Most of the marmots, especially those under two years old, are really cooperative.”

  “What happens after the collar is on?” she asked.

  “Each transmitter has its own identifying signal,” Ned told her. “All of them are picked up on our receiver and automatically fed into the computer. Then, two times a day, we download the file and chart the movements of the animals we’re tracking. Since Brad’s acci-

  dent, that’s been my job.”

  “How’s Brad doing?” Nancy asked.

  “Better,” Ned said. “But they’ve kept him pretty heavily sedated. No one’s been able to see him.”

  “Where did he get hurt?” Nancy queried.

  “Up the hill in the hut at observation post one,” Ned replied.

  “I’d like to see it,” Nancy said.

  Ned led Nancy to the trail that wound up the hill. At the top of the slope, Ned halted.

  “Well,” he said with a sweep of his hand, “this is it. We have three other feeding stations, but this is the most important one.”

  Nancy looked around. They were on level ground now. A circular area about the size of a football field had been fenced off with chicken wire.

  “This is a marmot community, and that’s one of their burrows,” Ned explained, point-

  ing to a raised mound on the far side of the chicken wire.

  Inside the enclosure Nancy noticed a slim girl about her own age leaning down to a burrow. She was wearing a checked shirt, straight-legged jeans, and suede boots. Her long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she had pale blue eyes and an oval face with a pronounced widow’s peak. When she saw Nancy and Ned, she came over to greet them.

  “Hi, Jennifer, this is Nancy Drew,” Ned said casually. “Nancy, meet Jennifer Trainey.”

  “Hi, Jennifer,” Nancy said. “Trainey-are you related to the professor?”

  “He’s my dad,” Jennifer said quickly, then added with a slight smile, “Ned didn’t tell me he was expecting company.”

  Nancy was about to respond when she no-

  ticed a flicker of movement from inside the enclosure. She saw a small head peering out of one of the burrows. As she watched, delighted, a marmot emerged. Another was close behind.

  They were reddish brown with yellow abdo-

  mens and black rings near their bushy tails.

  “Meet Click and Clack, our most sociable specimens,” Jennifer said.

  “They’re adorable.” Nancy glanced at Jen-

  nifer. “You must have been in on this project from the very beginning.”

  Jennifer laughed. “Since before the very beginning,” she replied.

  The two marmots finished eating. One sat up on its hind legs. The furry creature had a wide head with short, rounded ears, large eyes, and a black button nose. It cocked its head sideways as if to ask Nancy what she was doing there and then began grooming itself.

  “Wait until Bess sees these. She’ll go crazy,”

  Nancy said. “It looks like they’d be really fun to work with.”

  “Oh, they are!” Jennifer exclaimed. “Right now I’m monitoring the day care center.”

  “Day care center?” Nancy echoed.

  “While the parents are out foraging for food, the older members of the community stay in the entrances to the burrows, making sure the babies are safe,” Jennifer explained. “If they sense danger, they give a shrill ear-piercing whistle.”

  “Did many marmots disappear from this feeding station?” Nancy asked.

  Jennifer raised her eyebrows.

  “It’s okay,” Ned said quickly. “I told Nancy about what happened. She can be trusted-

  she’s my girlfriend.”

  “Oh,” Jennifer said smoothly. “How long are you here for?”

  “A few days,” Nancy replied.

  “Great,” Jennifer said, though Nancy doubted her sincerity. “Well, I’d better get back to work,” she went on
without answering Nancy’s question. “See you later.”

  As Jennifer walked away, Nancy turned to Ned. “She’s incredibly pretty,” she said.

  Ned reddened and shrugged, then led Nancy toward a small hut. As they approached it, Nancy noticed a metal box on top of a pole.

  She saw another one just like it about fifty yards farther along the fence. “What are those things?” she asked.

  “Time-lapse cameras,” Ned replied.

  “They’re set to take exposures every fifteen minutes. They even record the date and time at the bottom of each negative.”

  “Incredible,” Nancy said, then pointed to the hut. “Is that where Brad was hurt?”

  “Yeah,” Ned replied. “We keep a few snacks and drinks in there. Apparently, Brad was heating water for coffee. When boom! I heard the explosion and ran up the hill. Brad was lying across the doorstep, unconscious.”

  Nancy shook her head sympathetically.

  “The force of the explosion must have blown him out the door. He’s lucky he wasn’t killed.”

  Inside the hut were two chairs and a folding table covered with computer printouts and camera gear. Several bags of food pellets and a stack of traps lined the far wall. Above it was a shelf with a canister of sugar, instant coffee, and tea bags.

  Nancy pointed to a blackened object in the comer of the room. “Is that the stove that blew up?”

  Ned nodded, and she went over to it. The stove consisted of one burner attached by a copper tube to a canister of propane. Nancy checked the propane tank. The fitting between it and the tubing was tight, but when she traced a path up the tubing to the nut that connected it to the burner, she let out a gasp.

  “Find something?” Ned asked.

  Nancy held the tubing and the bolt up to the light. “Look at this,” she said. “See those scratch marks? Someone’s tampered with the nut,”

  Ned’s eyes narrowed. “That means when Brad turned on the stove, propane started escaping.”

  “Exactly,” Nancy agreed. “And when he lit the match, there was an explosion.”

  Ned straighted up. “So it wasn’t an accident.

  Someone deliberately tried to hurt Brad!”

  Chapter Three

  Or kill him,” Nancy added as she de-

  tached the tube and put it in the pocket of her jacket. “This is our first piece of evidence.”

  From the doorway, someone spoke up.

  “What’s going on here?”

  Nancy turned and saw a lanky man of about fifty, whose black hair was sprinkled with gray at the temples. He had a deeply tanned face and a wide, unsmiling mouth. A tall, dark, good-looking guy in a ranger uniform and a young woman clad in blue jeans and a purple Emerson College sweatshirt stood just behind him.

  Ned moved toward the group. “I was just showing my friend Nancy around. Professor Trainey, this is Nancy Drew.” He gestured to the two people behind Trainey and added, “That’s Jack Billings, a park ranger, and Alicia Nivel, from Emerson.”

  “Hi. You’re Ned’s girlfriend from River Heights, aren’t you?” A brief smile flashed across Alicia’s face. “He talks about you a lot.”

  For a minute no one said anything. Then the professor turned to Ned. “Did anything new turn up on the computer?” he asked.

  Ned ran his hand back through his hair nervously. “Umm-I didn’t get a chance to look. Nancy showed up just when I got to the command post,” he explained.

  “I see,” Trainey replied. He crossed his arms at his waist and stared at Ned. “We’ve got fifty marmots missing, final observations to make before we leave on Saturday, at least a day of packing ahead of us-and you’ve invited a visitor here. I must say, your timing surprises me.”

  Ned swallowed. “But, sir, Nancy is-“

  Trainey held up his hand. “I need you down at camp in ten minutes to draft a plot of today’s readings.” He turned and headed down the path.

  Alicia gave Nancy an apologetic smile and said, “You’ll have to forgive us. We’re all pretty tense these days, what with the marmots miss-

  ing and the grant extension hanging in the balance.”

  The ranger patted her on the back and said, “Don’t worry, Alicia. You’ll make it.”

  “Thanks, Jack,” Alicia replied.

  Ned shook his head despondently. “I just wish Trainey had given me a chance to explain why I invited Nancy. She’s a well-known de-

  tective and is going to track down the poach-

  ers.”

  Nancy would have preferred to keep her role a secret for a little while longer. Oh, well, too late now, she thought.

  Jack gave Nancy a big smile. “A private eye,” he said. “Well, I’ll be. And a pretty one, too.”

  Nancy tried to keep from blushing, but it was no use. She thought that Jack was amaz-

  ingly handsome-rugged and intelligent look-

  ing, too. She turned to Alicia and asked, “What did you mean about the grant exten-

  sion?”

  “Our study is being paid for by a federal grant,” Alicia said. “But there were cost over-

  runs, so Professor Trainey applied for an ex-

  tension, but in the meantime he’s been paying some of the expenses out of his own pocket.”

  Nancy whistled. “That’s pretty daring of him,” she said. “Is he wealthy?”

  “I doubt it,” Ned said. “He lives in a small cottage off campus and drives a beat-up truck.

  His work is about the only thing that seems to matter to him.”

  Nancy turned to Jack. “I met a couple of park maintenance men today named Richard and Piker. Do you know them?”

  Jack hitched his thumbs in his belt and said, “Yes, I do. Why?”

  “They weren’t exactly friendly when I met them at the campsite a little while ago,” Nancy replied.

  Jack gazed at Nancy. “I’m sorry if they gave you a hard time. I told them about what happened to Brad and asked them to be on the lookout for trouble. Actually, Piker and Rich-

  ard are really good guys,” Jack went on.

  “They’re just better at building walkways than relating to the public.”

  “Oh,” Nancy said, keeping her doubts to herself. “Ned told me about Brad’s accident.

  That was the day before yesterday at about eight in the evening, right?”

  “Seven fifty-three, to be exact,” Ned said.

  Nancy flashed him a grateful smile and continued. “Were either of you around when it happened?”

  Jack gave a vigorous shake of his head. “Not me. I was at the ranger station, giving a talk on the mammals of Yellowstone. It started at seven.”

  “That’s right,” Alicia said. “Jennifer and I were there. The slides were terrific!”

  “Did either of you happen to use the stove that afternoon?” Nancy asked, her eyes casu-

  ally moving from Jack to Alicia and back.

  Alicia frowned in concentration. “I think I did. When I came up to change the film in the cameras, I made some hot chocolate.”

  “What time was that?” Nancy pressed.

  “Six-thirty,” Alicia replied. “I left about ten minutes later to go to the lecture. I made it just in time.”

  “I remember you huffing and puffing as you ran into the room,” Jack said with a grin. “But speaking of time, Trainey told us to meet him in ten minutes.”

  “And me in the doghouse already!” Ned exclaimed. “Come on. Nancy.”

  Nancy and Ned jogged down the path to the campsite with Alicia and Jack close behind them. When they reached the parking area, Ned gave Nancy a quick kiss, then dashed off.

  Nancy drove away, thinking about the inves-

  tigation. If Alicia’s recollection was correct, the propane stove was working at six-thirty on the day of the accident. But by seven fifty-

  three, it had been sabotaged. If she could place someone at the observation hut during that time period, it would go a long way toward breaking the case.

  A
s she drove up to the hotel, she saw Bess standing on the porch, peering anxiously at the road. The moment she spotted Nancy, she started waving wildly. Nancy parked and ran over to her.

  “What is it, Bess?” she demanded. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Bess replied. “I think I just solved the whole case!”

  “What do you mean?” Nancy sank down onto a porch swing.

  Bess dropped down next to Nancy and handed her a piece of paper. “Just look at this,” she said.

  Nancy’s eyes widened when she read the title: “Hot New Pet Craze-Whistling Mar-

  mots.” The sheet had been photocopied from a magazine. In the article the words native to Yellowstone were highlighted in orange.

  Nancy’s heart began to race. “Where did you get this?”

  “I was sitting in the lobby,” Bess explained, “when a rich-looking couple came in and stopped near me. As they moved away, I noticed a piece of paper on the floor, so I picked it up.”

  “Hmm.” Nancy scanned the page and read out loud. ” ‘Rock star Randy Dean’s fondness for collecting marmots has made the creature a sought-after pet among the rich and famous.

  According to one U.S. wildlife specialist, some people are willing to pay as much as five hundred dollars for one of these animals.’”

  “Randy keeps a bunch of marmots on his California estate,” Bess said. “According to the article, one of them escaped. A neighbor found it in her kitchen, munching its way through a box of cereal. The story made the newspapers, and ever since then people have wanted marmots.”

  “That’s very interesting,” Nancy said slow-

  ly. “I guess we should find out the couple’s names and where they come from.”

  Bess grinned proudly. “They’re Gerald and Edith Turkower, and they’re from-just guess -Bel Air, California.”

  Nancy stared. “How do you know?”

  “Simple,” Bess said smugly. “While they were registering, I checked their luggage tags.”

  “Good work,” Nancy told her friend. “Tell you what,” she added, “as a reward, I’ll treat you to a cup of tea and a snack. I’ll also fill you in on what I’ve learned so far.”

  The dining room had log walls and wooden ceiling beams. As they sat down at a table near the windows, Bess leaned forward and whis-