The Stolen Relic [Nancy Drew Girl Detective 007] Read online

  “I wouldn’t bother to keep his order warm,” Ned mentioned to her. “Something tells me he’s not coming back.”

  “Weird!” George said. “Why would Nick fly off the handle like that?”

  I didn’t have an answer. Thanks to Nick, the four of us were silent while we munched on nacho appetizers at our table. But nothing can keep the four of us quiet for long. By the time our main course arrived, we’d already cheered up. We took turns guessing what was bothering him.

  “It’s nothing,” Bess said with a wave. “Maybe his shoes were too tight.”

  George snorted. “Maybe you’re too forgiving! No, Bess, something is definitely up with that guy.”

  “It’s as if he has two personalities,” Ned said, putting down his soda. “Good and bad.” He turned to me and smiled that warm Ned smile I love so much. “What do you think, Nancy? You’re the detective.”

  I sighed. I always hate to disappoint Bess, but I try to be honest with my friends. It’s a matter of honor.

  “I agree with Ned and George,” I said. “Nick’s behavior was too strange to shrug off. I’ve been a detective long enough to realize there’s always a reason for someone’s weird behavior.”

  “Maybe his back hurt him. He’d fallen, hadn’t he?” Bess said as our desserts arrived. “I mean, the reason for his mood doesn’t have to be mysterious.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” I said. But my curiosity was on high alert. Something told me Nick’s anger wasn’t caused by a bad back or tight shoes. I was willing to bet it was caused by something a whole lot deeper.

  After dinner we strolled back the Ranger Rose. The evening was crisp, which George mentioned was typical early summer weather in the desert—hot days and chilly nights, thanks to the low humidity. A full moon lit our way, and the sky was thick with stars. The Milky Way was a swath of white, like a cup of overturned milk. I wondered what the Anasazi Indians had thought of this sky when they lived here a thousand years ago. Like all people, they probably had their own special stories describing how the night and the stars had been made.

  A hall clock chimed ten as we opened the hostel door.

  “I wonder how the Powells enjoyed Canyonlands,” George said. “I’d like to hike there one of these days.”

  “Let’s check out the lounge,” Ned suggested. “If they’re there, we can ask them.” But George and Bess decided to go up to bed. Bess was especially tired after her eventful day.

  After Ned and I bid them good night, the desk clerk, this time a young man, said, “Did I hear you guys mention the Powells? You know, they haven’t come back from their hike yet, and I’m getting a bit anxious.”

  “Maybe they went straight from Canyonlands to dinner,” I said.

  “Unlikely,” the clerk said. “See, Margaret asked me to hold on to her purse for safekeeping. She didn’t want it weighing her down on her hike. But she’d need it for dinner. Plus, most people like to shower after hiking. You can get pretty grubby out there.”

  I felt a pinprick of worry. The desk clerk made sense. But Sasha was with the Powells, and Sasha would know her way back. Wouldn’t she?

  Before I had time for more guessing, the front door burst open. Much to my relief, Missy and Margaret stumbled in. But something was wrong. Blisters covered their faces and arms, and their lips were cracked and swollen. Despite their tricky relationship, they clung to each other for support, wincing from their terrible sunburns. It was painful to watch.

  “Water!” Margaret croaked, collapsing onto a nearby bench.

  Remembering Sasha’s lesson about salt and sugar, I brought them some trail mix packets along with the water. They took everything from me with trembling hands, consuming it as quickly as their parched lips would allow. Missy was the first to recover well enough to talk.

  “It’s a miracle Mom and I are alive after Sasha ditched us!” she cried.

  I gaped at her. A horrible thought went through my mind. “But... where’s Sasha now?” I asked, dreading the answer.

  “Who knows?” Missy said. “Like I said, she ditched us.”

  “You mean she just walked away from you?” Ned asked before trading a worried look with me.

  “She went to investigate noise in some underbrush,” Missy explained. “Or so she said.”

  Margaret took a breath. “Sasha was afraid the noise might be wild animals lurking around. Dangerous ones,” she explained in a crackling voice. “So she went to check it out. When she didn’t come back, we tried to find her, but with no luck.”

  “Well, did you call the police or the ranger station?” I asked.

  “No!” Missy snapped. “I mean, what do you expect, Nancy? We just got home this minute. We barely found our way out of the canyon in the pitch black. We’re dying of thirst and sunburn. And we were lucky. What if that noise had been a wild animal?”

  I stared at Missy, horrified. What was this pair thinking? Even after they were safe, they cared more about their own problems than they did about Sasha. Canyonlands was no joke. Sasha had said it’s a harsh desert wilderness. People could die there from thirst and exposure. And even experienced guides like Sasha could get lost—she’d compared it to a maze, not for novice hikers.

  I pivoted toward the front desk. The clerk looked at me with frightened eyes. “I heard all that,” he said. “Let’s call the police, pronto.”

  He picked up the phone and punched in some numbers. After reporting Sasha missing, the clerk handed the phone to Margaret.

  I hovered nearby. From what I could hear of the conversation, Margaret was describing where she’d last seen Sasha, but her manner was way too vague to be helpful.

  Ned cupped his hand next to my ear. “Do you think the police will understand to look for her in Utah?” he whispered.

  Margaret hung up. “The police are sending out a search party right away,” she told us. “Missy, let’s get to bed. We need rest. And I want to put some scallion ointment on our sunburns. If you ask me, this day has been a total bummer.”

  The desk clerk threw the Powells a disgusted look as they left. I was just as upset. “What can we do to help Sasha?” I asked him. “Right now, she’s wandering in Canyonlands in the darkness, hungry and lost. Not to mention the poisonous snakes and coyotes. And it’s cold! She must be terrified.”

  “The only people who can help Sasha are the rangers searching for her,” the clerk said gravely. “They’re professional trackers, and we’re not. I think you should get some rest, then tomorrow you can go to the ranger station and ask what you can do.”

  The moment we all woke up the next morning, I told George and Bess about Sasha. Needless to say, they were horrified. “Maybe she’s been found by now,” Bess said, pulling on her jeans.

  “Hope so,” I said. “Let’s go to the ranger station at Canyonlands and get some news.”

  While Ned was getting directions to the park from the front desk, Nick approached us from the lounge. “I was hoping to see you guys today,” he said amiably. “I want to apologize for my inexcusable behavior last night.” He flashed an embarrassed smile at Bess. “I hope you’ll find it in your hearts to forgive me.” He said “hearts” but he really meant one heart—Bess’s.

  “’Course we will, Nick,” Bess said. “Don’t even think twice about it. Look, we’re on our way to Canyonlands to find out if this missing ranger has been found. If she’s still lost, they may need search parties. Do you want to come too?”

  Nick looked uncomfortable. “I heard about that ranger from the Powells this morning. Sasha Starflower, right?”

  Bess nodded, and Nick went on, “I, er... know her, sort of. Sure, I’ll come along with you. Hope she’s okay.”

  I shot a look at Nick. Why the stutter when Bess mentioned Sasha? But I didn’t have time to pursue the small mysteries when there was suddenly this big one on my hands.

  The twenty minute drive to the ranger station on the northern canyon rim was quiet. Bess kept her flirting in check
.

  As I opened the door of the station, my stomach clenched. I held my breath, fervently hoping we’d hear good news.

  5. Navajo Turquoise

  The ranger on duty was an older man with gray, sad-looking eyes. I hoped that wasn’t because of any bad news he’d heard. We all introduced ourselves and told him why we were there. I braced myself for the worst.

  The ranger shook his head glumly, and my heart sank. “Sorry, kids,” he said in a deep, gravelly voice, “we’ve found nothing so far, not even a shred of Sasha’s clothing.”

  The door opened behind us, and a tall, middle-aged man with shoulder-length jet-black hair rushed in, followed by a pale, blue-eyed woman. She wore her light brown hair swept up in an elegant French twist. They were both dressed neatly but informally in khaki shorts, hiking boots, and polo shirts. The woman peered at the ranger, her face tilted expectantly, her eyes like lasers.

  No words were spoken, but the instant the couple read the bad news in the ranger’s face, they collapsed onto a nearby bench, too shaken up to speak.

  I studied them. The man’s dark eyes and high cheekbones resembled Sasha’s, while the woman’s graceful figure and quick gestures were just like Sasha’s too. I realized they were her parents, and my heart went out to them.

  The ranger spoke. “Mr. and Mrs. Starflower, I’m sorry, but we haven’t found Sasha yet. We’re doing everything we can to find her. Rest assured, we have several search parties working in the area where she was last seen.”

  “Oh, thank you so much,” Mrs. Starflower said in her crisp British accent. “The instant we heard from the Utah police that Sasha was missing, we drove straight up here from Monument Valley. We were hoping you’d have good news for us by the time we arrived, but...” Her voice trailed off, and she blinked back tears.

  I felt something brush against the backs of my knees. It was Nick, crouching behind me. He put his forefinger on his mouth as I shot him a questioning look.

  No one else seemed to notice him. Meanwhile Mr. Starflower put his arm around his wife. “I’d like to help search for Sasha,” he told the ranger.

  Nick made a creaking noise behind me. Everyone’s attention spun toward him. But not before he was halfway out the door.

  Like a cat pouncing on prey, Mr. Starflower lunged toward Nick, his face twisted with rage. What a difference from his friendly expression of moments before. “Nick Fernandez!” he cried, grabbing Nick’s collar. “Have you been hiding here this whole time?”

  “Hello, uh... Mr. Starflower,” Nick sputtered. “I’m not exactly, um, hiding.”

  “Don’t lie to me, young man!” Mr. Starflower said. “You want to avoid me. Why else would you be sneaking out the door like some snake?”

  “No sir, I mean, yes sir,” Nick said, his eyes darting toward me and my friends. “It’s warm in here, and I was feeling claustrophobic.”

  Mr. Starflower glared at Nick, his eyes cold with scorn. “You’re lying. You haven’t changed a bit since you dated my daughter.”

  Nick twisted away. “You never liked me. You never gave me a chance!” he shouted. “I never lied to anybody. I miss Sasha. I love her!”

  I looked at my friends. Nick loved her? This was news.

  Mr. Starflower let go of Nick’s shirt. His eyes narrowed. “You don’t know the meaning of love. If you really loved my daughter, you wouldn’t have lied to her. And you’ve got some nerve coming here at this painful time. You’re only making things worse.”

  Nick turned red with fury. His fists clenched at his sides. I could tell he was trying to control himself, but his anger was too explosive. With a white-knuckled fist, he aimed at Mr. Starflower’s face.

  Sasha’s father flinched while Nick hit the air, his fist missing its target by an inch. We all held our breath, bracing for another punch—a real one.

  Instead Nick slumped forward, his tension draining away. Then he stormed out the door, slamming it furiously behind him.

  Mr. Starflower stared after him, as if he expected Nick to hurl the door open again. But after a few seconds of quiet, we all relaxed. That is, if it’s possible to relax when a woman is missing in the desert and the temperature is climbing to- ward 95 degrees.

  The ranger broke the silence. “That young man has some temper,” he said. “He’s got strong muscles, too. I’m glad he didn’t hurt anyone.”

  “Me too,” Bess said, shaking her head in disbelief. She cupped her hand by my ear and whispered, “Maybe Nick’s outburst last night wasn’t so out of character.”

  “Do you think he’ll wander into Canyonlands looking for Sasha by himself?” Ned wondered. “He’s upset enough to do something rash.”

  “No,” Mrs. Starflower said. “He’ll probably hitchhike back to Moab. Nick’s a survivor, that’s for sure.”

  We let that comment hang in the air. Maybe Nick was a survivor, but was Sasha?

  I sat down on a worn sofa next to my friends, facing Sasha’s parents on their bench. “Maybe I missed something,” I began, “but I had no idea Sasha and Nick went out with each other.” I cast my mind back to yesterday when we’d told Sasha we were staying at the Ranger Rose. She’d seemed troubled. Was that because she knew Nick was staying there too?

  “We met Nick at the Ranger Rose two days ago,” Bess explained to the Starflowers. “Not once did he mention he knew Sasha—not even when we told him we’d met her.” The flat tone of her voice told me she was trying hard not to sound hurt.

  “Or when we told him she was lost,” George said.

  “I’ve never trusted Nick,” Mrs. Starflower declared. “From time to time Sasha would complain he’d lied to her outright, but mainly he just hid the truth. That can be just as dishonest.”

  “They’re not still dating, are they?” Bess asked.

  “Oh, no, they broke up about a week ago,” Mrs. Starflower replied. She was about to tell us more when she caught herself. I could tell she didn’t feel comfortable being so candid with strangers.

  Mr. Starflower smiled at us guardedly. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting you young people.”

  We introduced ourselves and explained how we knew Sasha. I asked, “Was Sasha upset after she and Nick broke up?”

  Uh-oh. Maybe that question came a little too fast. Mrs. Starflower seemed taken aback. Her face grew rigid, and her husband frowned, his friendly manner turning formal. Sometimes I forget that what I call curiosity others call nosiness.

  Bess shot me a look that said, Let me handle things from here, Drew.

  “Mrs. Starflower,” she said, “Nancy is a famous detective back home. Don’t mind her. She’s always asking questions like that. She can help.”

  Mrs. Starflower smiled hesitantly, and I grinned back. She let down her guard. “Sasha had seemed quite troubled lately,” she told us. “I assumed it was because of her breakup with Nick. Before that happened, she was always cheerful.”

  “Nick seemed upset by it too,” Ned observed.

  Glancing at the Starflowers, I added, “Was the breakup mutual?”

  Again they seemed a bit put off by my curiosity. But Mr. Starflower recovered quickly. “It was Sasha’s idea,” he said. “Still, she was sad. They’d been together for six months, and she really liked him.”

  “Then why did she break up with him?” I asked.

  “I never asked—I didn’t wish to pry,” Mr. Starflower said coolly.

  I paused. Was he giving me a hint? But his next question took me by surprise. “Nancy, you’re a detective. How about investigating Sasha’s disappearance? I’m sure there’s more to it than meets the eye.”

  I was flattered. Who wouldn’t be? I was a stranger, yet he trusted me to find his daughter. Still, I wasn’t sure I agreed with him that there was anything more to her disappearance. She was probably not a crime victim, but simply lost.

  “Nick has been acting so strangely,” he went on. “You kids saw him. Now tell me, is that behavior normal? I�
�m just really worried that he might have something to do with Sasha being gone.”

  I sighed. I didn’t want to disappoint him by telling him my opinion. “I agree that Nick was acting weird,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “And he may be hiding something. But that doesn’t prove he’s responsible for a serious crime.”

  Mr. Starflower frowned. “The more I think about Nick, the more suspicious he seems. After they broke up, Sasha complained that Nick wouldn’t leave her alone. Almost as if he was stalking her.”

  “You both mentioned that Nick isn’t honest,” I said. “Can you be more specific?”

  Mrs. Starflower’s delicate fingers brushed nervously over her hair. She reminded me of a ballet dancer, with her gracefulness and her proud straight posture. “Sometimes he would date other girls,” she said. “Not seriously, but he’d keep that part of his life from Sasha. She’d find out from mutual friends, and when she asked him about it, he’d say nothing. Yet he was always pestering her for more of a commitment. His neediness and lack of honesty drove her away from him.”

  “He was upset enough by the breakup to want revenge,” Mr. Starflower said, “even though he never came right out and said that.”

  A knot of dread thickened in my stomach. Was he voicing something I’d been wondering myself? My mind flashed back to last night. Nick got so touchy when we mentioned the dirt on his shirt at the Laughing Tortilla. His manner was evasive—and suspicious. Still, I had to be the voice of reason with Mr. Starflower, who seemed so sure of Nick’s guilt.

  “There’s no evidence that Nick was involved in Sasha’s disappearance,” I said, “only a hunch. All the evidence points to Sasha being lost.”

  “Nancy, I disagree,” Mr. Starflower said. “Sasha has superior tracking abilities— I taught her those skills myself when she was a tiny girl. There’s no way she just got lost.”

  My friends nodded gravely. “He’s right,” George said. “Remember yesterday in Arches when Bess fainted? Sasha was very cool. She knew exactly what to do. The desert is like her home.”