Heart of Danger Page 3

  Ned chuckled. “I thought you were there to look for a lost girl, not lost cows.”

  “Actually,” Nancy said, “it wasn’t a cow that intrigued me. It was a deer. A spotted deer with antlers. But I’m being accused of having an overactive imagination. Apparently, such a thing doesn’t exist down here.”

  “A spotted deer?” Ned asked curiously. “I can ask my uncle in Dallas. He’s a hunter. If anybody would know, he would.” There was a silence. “Hey, you know something, Nancy Drew?” Ned asked, in a softer voice. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too,” Nancy said, her pulse racing at the tender sound of his voice. “I wish . . .” Her voice trailed away, and she closed her eyes, thinking of the way his lips had felt on hers when they said goodbye at the airport.

  “Yeah?” Ned prompted, amused. “What do you wish?”

  “I wish you were here,” Nancy said. She laughed a little. “I sound like a postcard. ‘Having a wonderful time. Wish you were here.’ ”

  “Mmm,” Ned said. “Don’t tempt me, Nan. I just might get on the next plane and—”

  At that moment, there was a soft knock on Nancy’s door. “Listen, Ned, I’ve got to say goodbye. Somebody’s at the door.”

  “Okay. Be careful—and call tomorrow.”

  “I will,” she promised and hung up, hurrying to the door. A folded piece of white paper had been slid underneath it. Nancy picked it up. “Come to the stables immediately,” the note said. It was hand lettered. “You’ll get all the answers you need.” She studied the lettering. She would have to compare it to the notes Mr. Reigert had received, of course, but it didn’t look as if it had been written by the same person.

  Hurriedly, Nancy found her tiny flashlight and opened her door, looking in both directions. She knew that whoever had slid the note under her door had already disappeared. She crept silently down the shadowy hall and out into the dark yard. The stables were fifty yards away, beyond the corral, and Nancy hurried, her light making a tiny circle of brightness at her feet. Who had put the note under her door? The answer could be an important lead in the case.

  The stable door was a darker shadow against the blackness of the wall. Nancy approached it cautiously and went inside, turning off her light. Unfortunately, she kicked a tool leaning against a stall, and it fell over with a clank that echoed in the darkness. Nancy paused, waiting to see what would happen.

  Her wait was short. Something solid struck against the side of her head, and she slid into blackness.

  Chapter

  Four

  NANCY OPENED HER eyes. The blackness was replaced by the grayer shadows of the stable. She touched the side of her head. A large bump had already formed, and her head ached miserably.

  She felt something with her other hand and realized she was holding a piece of paper. She pulled out her flashlight and shone it on the scrap. Written in the same printing as the note that had directed her to the stable were the words “Does this answer your questions? Get off the ranch or you’ll wake up dead.”

  Nancy stuffed the note into her jeans pocket and staggered to her feet. For a few moments she leaned against the wall, fighting nausea. When she felt better, she walked unsteadily toward the doorway, her flashlight in her hand.

  Outside, she heard something near the corner of the stable, and she swung her light in that direction. A figure was just hurrying around the corner of the stable—a furtive, stooped figure in a shapeless jacket that she thought she recognized. It looked very much like Joe Bob! Nancy started to go after him, but her head was swimming and she had to grab the building for support while she heard the footsteps fading into the distance. It took all her strength to make it back to her room.

  • • •

  The next morning Nancy’s head still throbbed, but she tried to hide the fact that she was in pain. She wore a cheerful yellow cowboy shirt and a bright yellow ribbon tied around her ponytail. She decided there was no point in calling attention to the fact that she’d been fooling around in the stables after dark—or that she’d been careless enough to get herself conked on the head.

  Anyway, Nancy thought wryly, as she put on her makeup with extra care, at least now she had some more clues: a handwritten note and a bump on the side of her head, apparently administered by Joe Bob. But neither clue took her a single step closer to finding Catarina.

  Nor was there any clue in the faces of the people gathered around the breakfast table: Mr. Reigert was still pale and weak after his illness; Mrs. Reigert glanced nervously at Nancy as she sat down; Mark was curt and uncommunicative; and Gene, who came late and left early, muttered about a problem with a fence. Although Joe Bob had eaten with them the morning before, that day he was nowhere to be seen.

  After breakfast Nancy went to the stables to search the spot where she’d been hit. Discovering nothing, she headed for the kitchen, notebook in hand, to talk to Mrs. Arguello. She found her chopping up vegetables for a luncheon soup. Angela was there, too, wearing a colorful red cotton dress with Mexican embroidery on the bodice. At a sharp glance from Mrs. Arguello, however, she dashed out of the kitchen, scarcely speaking to Nancy.

  “I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes, if you don’t mind,” Nancy said to Mrs. Arguello as she perched on a kitchen stool and opened her notebook, scanning the list of questions she had jotted down the night before. “I’d really like to learn more about Mr. Reigert’s first family—about Isabel and Catarina. We’ll be covering those chapters in the memoirs before long, and I’d like to have the background work done first.”

  Mrs. Arguello didn’t look up. “What is it you wish to know?” she asked warily, her mouth set in a firm, taut line.

  “Well, for starters,” Nancy asked, “are there any pictures of Isabel around? In the attic, maybe? In an old photograph album or something?” From a picture of the mother, Nancy might be able to get an idea of what the daughter would look like now—assuming she was still alive.

  Mrs. Arguello hesitated, then said briskly, “No. No pictures.”

  “None at all?” Nancy persisted, disappointed. “That seems a little unusual. Most people keep snapshots of their families.” She would ask Mr. Reigert later.

  Mrs. Arguello shrugged. She dumped some sliced carrots into a large pot on the stove, but she didn’t answer.

  “Well, then, what can you tell me about Isabel’s family?” Nancy asked, pursuing another line. “Did they visit here often?”

  Mrs. Arguello rolled her eyes. “Visit? Why should they visit here, when they had a beautiful palacio in Mexico?”

  “A palacio?” Nancy looked around at the spacious kitchen, double doors opening onto a small, well-tended herb garden. “But this house is pretty palatial itself.”

  “Maybe now, but not then. When I first came here with Isabel, when she was just married, Senor Reigert had only a poor house with a few rooms. He was rich in land, but his house was not a place for grand visitors.”

  “Oh! So Mr. Reigert was poor in those days! He married the daughter of an aristocratic Mexican family, but he didn’t have anything to offer her except his land, and the family disapproved. Is that right?”

  Mrs. Arguello nodded, the ghost of a smile on her lips. “Isabel, she was a beautiful young girl,” the old woman said. Her voice softened and she stared into space as if she were seeing the pages of some forgotten book. “And Senor Reigert was already as old as her father, although he was still very handsome.”

  “I don’t suppose Isabel’s parents could have been very happy about the difference in their ages,” Nancy said thoughtfully. At last they seemed to be getting somewhere, if only she could keep Mrs. Arguello talking.

  “Sí,” Mrs. Arguello replied. She spoke almost in a whisper, as if she had forgotten about Nancy and was talking to herself. “Isabel’s father, he was not pleased with the marriage his daughter had made. He said she was loco, crazy. But Isabel was not the one to listen to her father. Very willful, she was, and headstrong.”

  “Like a wild hors
e,” Nancy said, repeating what Mr. Reigert had said earlier. “Couldn’t be saddle broken, by love or by will.”

  Mrs. Arguello nodded and began to chop a stalk of celery. “You are right,” she said. “Not by love or by will.”

  “But why did Isabel go back to Mexico?” Nancy asked. “Was she taking her daughter to visit her grandparents?”

  Mrs. Arguello’s mouth tightened. “No. Not for a visit.”

  “You mean, she was leaving her husband? She was going back to her parents and taking the little girl with her?”

  “Sí.” The knife flashed. “Isabel loved her little daughter, and she wanted her to be raised as she was, as the daughter of an aristocratic family. There was a quarrel—a bad quarrel—and she left. Senor Reigert, his heart nearly broke. But what could he do? When Isabel made up her mind, no one could stop her—not even Senor Reigert.”

  “And then the plane crashed,” Nancy said quietly, touched by the tragedy of the story that was emerging from Mrs. Arguello’s memory. “And Isabel was killed.” She hesitated, watching Mrs. Arguello closely. “And the little girl? Do you think she died in the crash? Or did something else happen to her?”

  Mrs. Arguello looked up. For a moment she hesitated as if she wanted to say something. Then she bent her head again, her black eyes intent on her work.

  Nancy waited. But Mrs. Arguello’s mouth had resumed its thin, taut line, and it was clear that she was done talking—for the time being. Nancy left the kitchen and walked down the hall toward Mr. Reigert’s room, glancing at her watch. It was nearly eleven o’clock and she’d told Mr. Reigert that she would talk with him at ten-thirty that morning.

  Nancy reviewed what she had learned so far. After her conversation with Mrs. Arguello, she suspected that the old woman knew something about Catarina—but what? Of all the people on the ranch, Nancy had to admit, Mrs. Arguello seemed the most likely to have information. And Mr. Reigert had said that he’d caught Mrs. Arguello snooping. Was she involved with the kidnappers?

  But if Mrs. Arguello was involved with the kidnapping, how did Joe Bob fit in? And Mark and Mrs. Reigert both seemed to be hiding something. Nancy had found a tangle of unresolved connections, a tangle that revealed no pattern at all.

  • • •

  The door to Mr. Reigert’s office was open a crack and Nancy could hear voices inside. She knocked tentatively, but nobody acknowledged her. She knocked again and the door swung open by itself. Nancy stepped inside.

  Mrs. Reigert was standing looking out the window. That day she was wearing a blue-flowered shirt, with a blue bandanna tied around her throat, and a layered denim skirt with a ruffled petticoat. She looked as if she were on her way to a square dance. But even from the back, she didn’t look as if she were in the mood for a dance. Her spine was ramrod straight, and her hands were clenched into fists at her sides.

  “Absolutely no regard for my feelings,” she was saying in an icy voice. “I sent out the invitations for this Thursday’s party weeks ago. How was I to know that you were going to get sick again? I simply will not cancel the party. And that’s all there is to it.”

  Nancy glanced at Mr. Reigert, sitting stiffly at his desk. Listening to Mrs. Reigert, Nancy could understand why her husband thought their marriage had been a mistake.

  “I wasn’t suggesting that you cancel the party,” Mr. Reigert said indignantly. “And I’m not sick—I’ve got an upset stomach, that’s all. I just suggested that you think about a menu that might agree with me a little better than spicy Mexican food—”

  “That’s the trouble around here,” Mrs. Reigert interrupted, stamping her foot. “Everybody wants special treatment. I’ve planned this party around a Mexican theme. There’s even going to be a mariachi band. And now you—”

  “Oh, go ahead with your plans,” Mr. Reigert said resignedly. “I don’t care what you do. I’ll talk to Mrs. Arguello about making something different for me, so I don’t have to eat that spicy stuff you’re serving.”

  Mrs. Reigert suddenly softened. “That’s a sweet old dear,” she cooed, her voice dripping honey. “I knew you’d think of something. And you’ll have a wonderful time, just wait and—” She looked up and saw Nancy.

  “Oh, hello, Nancy,” she said brightly. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Mr. Reigert asked me to see him at ten-thirty,” Nancy explained. “I was already late, and the door pushed open, so I thought I should—”

  “Would you mind letting us finish?” Mrs. Reigert asked. “We just have a few more details to firm up about a fabulous party we’re planning. It’s just two days away.” She smiled, patting her husband’s shoulder. “And, of course, we want you to come, too, don’t we, dear?” She threw Nancy a sideways glance. “That is, if you’re still here.”

  Mr. Reigert nodded. “Yes,” he said, “by all means. Come to the party.” He looked at his watch and then turned to Nancy. “I know we agreed to work this morning, but I think we should postpone it until later this afternoon. I have some business to take care of when Mrs. Reigert and I are through talking, and it’s going to take awhile.” He shot her a meaningful look. “I know you have plenty to do on your own—background research and so forth. I’m sure you’re collecting all sorts of useful information.”

  “Of course,” Nancy said, turning to leave the room. Disappointed, she went into the hallway where she caught a flash of red skirt disappearing around the corner. Nancy knew immediately who it was. Had Angela just been passing by, or had she been spying? Nancy had to find out.

  “Angela!” she called, rushing after her. She rounded the corner—and found the hallway empty.

  Chapter

  Five

  NANCY WASN’T EVEN sure the fleeing figure had been Angela, but she decided to confront her anyway. If the housemaid was spying on the Reigerts, Nancy needed to know why.

  Nancy found Angela in the dining room, calmly setting the table. Had she been there all along or had she raced into the room just ahead of Nancy? She did seem to be breathing rather fast.

  Nancy decided that the best way to find out was to be direct about it. “I want to talk to you, Angela,” she said. “I want to know if you were listening outside Mr. Reigert’s door.”

  “No comprendo,” the girl said. Then she rattled off something incomprehensible in rapid Spanish. Her dark eyes flashed and her shoulders were straight and proud.

  Nancy grabbed her arm. “Wait a minute,” she said. “I thought you spoke English. You spoke to me the day I arrived.”

  “No comprendo,” Angela repeated stubbornly. She tried to pull her arm free from Nancy’s firm grasp.

  Nancy tightened her grip. “I am not going to hurt you, Angela,” she said in a reasonable tone, trying to ease the girl’s obvious apprehension. “I only want to know if you were listening outside Mr. Reigert’s office. Tell me.”

  The girl stood up straighter and looked at Nancy almost arrogantly. “I do not wish to tell you anything,” she said in perfect English. “What I do is none of your affair.” She looked haughtily at Nancy’s hand on her arm. “Please take your hand off me,” she commanded.

  Shocked, Nancy let go. The voice she was hearing certainly didn’t sound like the voice of a housemaid.

  “What’s going on here?” Gene asked, coming into the room. He glanced at Angela, and Nancy saw something like a spark of electricity pass between them. “What’s the matter?”

  Nancy whirled around. “Oh—nothing,” she said, deciding that it would be better not to mention her confrontation with Angela. If her instincts were right, something was going on between Gene and Angela. When Nancy turned back to Angela, the girl had slipped out of the room.

  • • •

  It was early afternoon, and Nancy was on her way to the corral, equipped with binoculars and a camera with a telephoto lens. At lunch she had asked Joe Bob to saddle a horse for her.

  “Where are you off to this afternoon?” Mark had asked with a sharp look, overhearing her request from across the ta
ble.

  “I’ve decided to get to the bottom of this mystery-animal business,” Nancy said lightly. She couldn’t imagine that the animal had anything to do with the missing heiress, but her natural curiosity was prompting her to find out what was going on. Anyway, at that point, one lead seemed as promising as another, since nothing about the case made much sense.

  She glanced at Gene and Mark, measuring their response. “You two seemed to think I’d lost my mind when I told you that I’d seen a spotted deer with antlers.”

  “It’s not your mind you’re losing,” Gene said emphatically, biting into a taco. “Just your eyesight.”

  “Personally, I do happen to think you’re crazy,” Mark growled at Nancy. “Nobody ever saw any spotted deer around here.”

  Nancy smiled. Mark’s charm was beginning to fray a little around the edges. “That’s why I’m eager to shoot it,” she said. “With my camera, of course. I’ve never had much to do with guns.”

  “I hope you’re not planning to go riding alone, my dear,” Mrs. Reigert told Nancy. “If Mr. Reigert were here, he would tell you the same thing. This is wild country.” She shivered delicately. “There are rattlesnakes everywhere, and wild boar. Anything can happen out there, especially when you’re unprepared.”

  Nancy looked around the table. “I’d be glad for company,” she offered. But it seemed that everybody was busy for the afternoon. Mrs. Reigert was working on the party, Mark had to make a trip into Rio Hondo, and Gene had work to do.

  Joe Bob had simply shaken his head. Nancy was just as glad. After what had happened in the stables the night before, she didn’t relish the idea of an afternoon in the wilds of Texas with Joe Bob. And, anyway, she wanted to be alone to think.

  • • •

  When she reached the corral, she found a horse saddled and waiting for her, its reins looped around a fence post. It wasn’t the same mild-mannered palomino she had ridden the day before, but a tall, husky gray with a mottled face. When she climbed into the saddle, the horse reared and gave a bad-tempered whinny, as if to declare that he was the boss.