The Elusive Heiress Page 4

  “Not yet. There are still a few things I want to look into here.”

  “But, Dad, I. . .” Nancy began.

  “I’ve got to run, Nancy,” he interrupted. “I’ll call you in a few days to tell you when I’ll be able to get away. You take care of yourself now.” The phone went dead before she could say another word. Nancy stared at the receiver for a moment before replacing it in its cradle.

  “Was that your father?” Ned asked from the doorway to the hall.

  Nancy nodded. “At least it sounded like him,” she said dubiously.

  “What?” Ned came over to comfortingly take her hand, seeming to sense her feelings.

  “Well, it was my father, but he seemed so strange, Ned. He didn’t ask about our investigation or anything. He just said he was too busy to call last night and that he hadn’t learned anything yet, but was going to stay a while longer. Then he hung up.”

  Ned frowned. “That certainly doesn’t sound like him,” he admitted, “but maybe he couldn’t talk. You know, he might be following someone and if he were standing nearby. . .”

  “I suppose that could be it,” Nancy acknowledged, but deep down, she wasn’t at all sure that would explain the strange conversation.

  “At least you know for sure where he is now,” Ned reminded her. “You can always call him again tonight or tomorrow.”

  Nancy nodded, then went upstairs to put on her jeans and plaid Western shirt for the rodeo. It was probably just because of all that had happened that she felt so insecure about being separated from her father, she told herself. She just needed to be sure that he wouldn’t disappear the way Jennifer’s mother had.

  7. Rodeo Excitement

  Time seemed to drag after they settled into their seats in the grandstand. The pre-rodeo show was only a teaser for the events that followed. Nancy watched, enthralled as the first bull rider burst from behind the white-painted chute gate across the well-plowed brown earth of the arena.

  The huge Brahma made only a few jumps away from the chute, then began a spinning, plunging circle that pulled the unfortunate rider over to one side, then dumped him into the dirt, seemingly beneath the bull’s hooves.

  “Oh, no!” Nancy gasped, certain that the bull would turn his horns on the fallen man, who appeared unable to get up to flee for safety.

  The rodeo clown came dancing forward, his red clown wig blowing in the ever-present breeze, his baggy pants wagging tauntingly at the bull. The bull started toward the fallen man, but the clown was faster, dancing forward to slap the huge beast on the nose, then bouncing back as it turned its furious gaze toward him.

  “Most bull riders owe their lives to some rodeo clown somewhere,” Grace said, watching closely as the clown sidestepped the bull’s charge and ducked behind a rubber-tire- wrapped barrel. “His assistant is in the barrel.”

  “That’s not a job I’d care for,” Nancy admitted, as the clown rolled the barrel toward the pawing bull. The audience roared in approval as the bull caught the barrel with his horns and rolled it back.

  Nancy looked beyond the bull and clowns to see that the rider was on his feet now and limping toward the safety of the fence. The bull and clown played with the barrel for a moment more, then the bull lifted his head and trotted away as the clown in the barrel stood up and waved to the crowd.

  “That bull knows he’s through for today,” Ned observed.

  Grace nodded. “Some people think it’s cruel, but the rodeo stock is well cared for and they only have to work a few minutes every day, which is more than you can say for the poor cowboys.”

  They all laughed as the next bull came crashing out of the chute. This rider was more skillful, staying with the viciously bucking creature till the horn signaled the end of his ride. The clown moved forward immediately, ready to help the cowboy should he have difficulty freeing his hand from the braided rope that was his only link to the furious bull. In a moment, the cowboy was bucked free, landing on his feet and running for the fence.

  “If I were going to ride in any bucking event, I’d certainly prefer the horses,” Ned observed. “At least they don’t try to gore you with their horns after they buck you off.”

  “I enjoy riding horses,” Nancy said, “but I think I’ll be satisfied just to watch the rodeo from here.”

  “I’d like to be a barrel racer,” Jennifer said, bouncing on her seat. “We practiced some in the Pony Club, but you have a real fast horse and the pony I rode was much too slow.”

  The bucking horses proved to be almost as wild as the bulls had been, and several of the cowboys had to be helped from the arena by their friends. Nancy watched admiringly as the pickup men worked in the arena. They maneuvered their horses close to the bucking broncos so that the successful riders could slide from the bucking horse across the haunches of the pickup horse, then safely to the ground.

  “Oh, I know this young man,” Grace announced as the speaker named the next rider. “He’s the son of a friend of mine.”

  The bronco was a heavy-headed sorrel that exploded out of the chute, then stopped abruptly, nearly sending the rider over his head. His bucks were wicked, twisting motions without any particular rhythm, and each time he hit the ground, he seemed to land harder than the last.

  “He’s wonderful,” Nancy gasped as the young man somehow managed to stay in the saddle and keep his legs moving forward and back as required by the rules. “That’s a terrible horse to ride.”

  “No one likes to draw old Death Chant,” Grace agreed. “He’s very difficult to ride, but if someone does stay on for the full time, he can expect an extra-high score.”

  The horn sounded and the young cowboy reached for the waist of the pickup rider with obvious relief, sliding across the haunches of the well-trained horse and landing on the soft ground as wild applause greeted his score. “He should be today’s winner,” Grace said, her eyes bright with excitement. “I just hope Myrtle was here to see that ride.”

  Event followed event. Calf roping, steer wrestling, bareback bronco riding; it was all exciting and a little frightening, yet fascinating, too. Nancy was soon hoarse from cheering and shouting encouragement. Once the rodeo ended, she sank back in her seat wearily.

  “Like it?” Grace asked.

  “It was fantastic,” Nancy replied, “but so exhausting. I don’t know how people can come every day.”

  Grace laughed. “If you’d lived in Cheyenne, you would have had years of practice.”

  “I’d like to come every single day,” Jennifer stated firmly. “I love it!”

  Nancy laughed. “We’ll have to talk about that later,” she teased. “Right now I think we should see about getting out of the stand and going back to the house.”

  They moved slowly into the rather quiet throng that was filling out. For the first time, Nancy noticed that the sun had faded and dark clouds were moving in. There was a distant rumble of thunder, something they hadn’t heard while the crowd was shouting.

  “We just might get rained on,” Grace observed. “It will help break the heat, but it makes a mess out of the night shows.”

  “Is that when they have the chuck wagon races?” Ned asked, interest plain in his voice.

  Grace nodded. “They used to have the races during the afternoon show, but with so many other events and contestants, it was decided that the chuck wagon races deserved a time of their own. We’ll have to come some evening. The races are very exciting.”

  “We’ll have to visit the carnival, too,” Ned said, looking toward the rising shapes of the various rides that had been set up near the arena area.

  “Tomorrow,” Nancy promised.

  “Home, then?” Grace asked.

  Everyone agreed and, as they drove home, the conversation was mostly about the various rodeo events they’d watched through the afternoon. It was only when Grace pulled into the driveway that she fell silent and a frown marred her formerly happy expression.

  “Is something wrong, Grace?” Nancy asked at once.


  Grace parked the car before answering. “I thought I left the drapes closed in the living room to keep the house cool,” she said.

  Nancy nodded. “I remember that you did close them.”

  “Could someone have come by and opened them?” Ned asked. “Someone from your family or one of your friends?”

  “I suppose so.” Grace didn’t sound convinced. “Several of them do have keys.”

  “Would you like me to go in first?” Ned asked.

  “Oh, I’m sure . . .” Grace let it trail off, then nodded. “So many strange things have been happening,” she murmured. “I guess maybe I am a little on edge.”

  “I’d like to go with you, Ned,” Nancy said.

  “Be careful, both of you,” Grace counseled as she handed Ned her keys.

  When they reached the house, Ned turned the key in the latch; but when he tried to open the door, nothing happened. He looked at Nancy, then reinserted the key and turned the knob. The door opened at once. “It was unlocked,” he whispered.

  Nancy nodded and followed him inside, not at all sure what to expect.

  The living room, well lit even though the sun was behind the thunderclouds, seemed sleepily undisturbed. Ned and Nancy exchanged glances, but neither spoke, for they didn’t want to alert anyone who might still be in the house.

  The search was immediately underway, but there seemed to be nothing disturbed. The kitchen smelled sweetly of the chicken casserole Grace had been heating up; the dining room table was set and waiting just as Nancy and Jennifer had left it. Ned’s room was undisturbed as, apparently, were the other downstairs rooms they checked.

  “Upstairs?” Ned asked in a whisper.

  Nancy nodded and they climbed the stairs together.

  A quick check of the rooms up there offered no more clues than the downstairs rooms had. Nancy stepped into the room she shared with Jennifer and looked around. Something about it told her that someone had been here in her absence.

  Could I be imagining it? she asked herself.

  “It looks like everything is all right up here, too,” Ned said from behind her. “I’ll go check the basement, then we can call Grace and Jennifer in.”

  Nancy nodded, but didn’t follow him as he went down the stairs. She walked around the room again, looking at everything, but touching nothing. Her small briefcase was closed and when she opened it, the papers inside all appeared to be as she’d left them. But there was still something . . .

  Thunder rumbled, then crashed violently, making her start nervously. She closed the briefcase with a sigh and started for the stairs. If someone had been here, she decided, he must have been a very neat snooper.

  “Nancy, Nancy! Did you find anything?” Grace’s voice carried above the rising sounds of the storm.

  Nancy hurried down, shaking her head. “No sign of anyone.”

  “I didn’t find anything, either,” Ned informed them as he returned from the basement.

  “What about Brewster?” Grace asked.

  “Brewster?” Nancy looked around, suddenly realizing that the sable and white collie should have met them at the door.

  “You didn’t see him?” Grace asked.

  Nancy and Ned could only shake their heads and follow Grace as she went to the back door and opened it to call the dog. There was no sign of him. Brewster had disappeared!

  8. Warning!

  “Could someone have let him out the front door by mistake?” Nancy asked.

  Grace shook her head. “The only people who have keys wouldn’t do that, Nancy. He’s very good about not running away, but I don’t like him loose even on these back streets. There’s just too much traffic.”

  “Did Ned tell you that the front door was unlocked?” Nancy asked.

  Grace nodded worriedly. “I’m sure I locked it when we left.”

  “I’m really sure of that, too,” Nancy agreed. “I remember.”

  “What do you suppose it means?” Grace asked.

  “I really don’t..Nancy began, then stopped as a sharp bark came from the front door. They all turned in that direction while Jennifer ran forward and opened the door. Brewster came bounding in, his long fur wet from the rain that had begun to fall.

  “Brewster,” Grace called and dropped to her knees to hug the wet dog. “Where in the world have you been? Who let you out?”

  “It sure is a shame that he can’t tell us,” Jennifer said.

  “Maybe he can,” Nancy observed, joining the other three in petting the big, happy dog.

  “What do you mean?” Ned asked.

  “This.” Nancy pulled the small, tightly rolled piece of paper out of the rubber band that had attached it to the collie’s collar. “It seems he’s brought us a message.”

  “What is it?” Grace asked, but Nancy could only gasp as she read the short note. Ned took it from her nervous fingers and began to read:

  NANCY DREW,

  THIS TIME WE TOOK THE

  DOG, NEXT TIME THE VICTIM COULD BE YOU OR ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS. GET OUT OF CHEYENNE NOW AND LEAVE JENNIFER TO US. IF YOU STAY, SOMEONE IS GOING TO GET

  hurt!

  “But who?” Grace gasped.

  “It isn’t signed,” Ned answered, “but I think we can guess who was here while we were gone.”

  “The two men from the airport,” Nancy agreed. “Mustache and his blond friend.”

  “The men who tried to kidnap me,” Jennifer said. “Oh, Nancy, what are we going to do?”

  Nancy put an arm around the little girl. “We are going to get a towel and dry Brewster, then we’re going to have some dinner,” she told her.

  “But the note,” Jennifer protested.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Nancy counseled.

  “You won’t leave me here alone, will you?” Jennifer asked, her dark eyes very worried as they met Nancy’s bright blue ones.

  “I’m not going to leave you till I find your mother,” Nancy assured her. “No sneaky dognapper is going to scare me away, Jennifer.” Jennifer smiled with relief. “I’m so glad,” she whispered, hugging Nancy before she left to get a towel for Brewster.

  “Are you sure that’s wise, Nancy?” Grace asked as soon as Jennifer was out of earshot. “Perhaps you’re putting yourself in serious danger staying here.”

  “I can’t just let them come and take her,” Nancy reminded the older woman.

  “Well, we could call the police,” Grace suggested.

  Nancy considered, then nodded. “I suppose we should let them know about the threat,” she agreed. “But I don’t think they will take it too seriously. After all, Brewster came home safely.”

  “I’ll go call,” Grace said, giving Brewster a final pat. “And I’ll see to it dial they do take the threats seriously. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you or Jennifer.”

  The evening proved frustrating. Sergeant Hill came and took the note away with him, but his advice to stay indoors and be careful was hardly helpful. Nancy’s call to Hannah was also disturbing. Among other things, Carson Drew hadn’t called home to speak to her either.

  Once she’d hung up the phone after the conversation, Ned suggested a walk in the cool, new-washed evening air. As they followed the trotting collie along the street, he held her hand.

  After a while, Ned said, “You know, Nancy, maybe you should do as the sergeant suggested.”

  “What good would that do?” Nancy asked.

  “Well, you’d be safe if you’d stay around the house.”

  “I doubt it,” Nancy observed. “After all, they broke into the house to get Brewster today. Besides, we can’t find Lorna Buckman or Clarinda Winthrop while we’re sitting around Grace’s living room.”

  “That’s true enough,” Ned agreed reluctantly. “It’s just that I don’t want you or Jennifer to be hurt.”

  “Then our best course is to find out why those two men are trying to kidnap Jennifer. What could they possibly want with her?”

  “Do you suppose they could have her m
other?” Ned asked.

  Nancy sighed. “I guess it’s possible, but why? What could they want?”

  “Ransom?”

  Nancy considered, then shook her head. “I doubt it. The things Jennifer has told me sound like she and her mother lived a rather quiet life before her mother was hurt in that accident on their way to California. Her father died a few years ago and she doesn’t seem to have any other relatives besides hei grandparents. I don’t think they have the kind of money that would inspire kidnapping for ransom.”

  “What about the grandparents?” Ned asked. “Jennifer never mentioned them to me.”

  “I don’t think they’ve been very close,” Nancy answered. “Jennifer doesn’t seem to know a great deal about them, except that her grandmother suggested the boarding school she was sent to. She couldn’t even give me their address in California.”

  “Her father’s family?”

  Nancy could only shrug. “She never has mentioned them.”

  “So where do we go from here?” Ned asked. Nancy stopped and looked around at the pretty night as the moon rose. “I suppose we’d better go back,” she said with a teasing grin. “We have an early date with a chuckwagon breakfast tomorrow, remember?”

  Ned laughed. “You know, we’ve been so involved with Jennifer’s problems, I’d almost forgotten your appointment with Mr. Webber. Think you’ll be able to concentrate on such an old mystery now that you have a fresh new one to work on?”

  Nancy sighed. “After what Hannah told me, I think I’d better. In fact, I’m almost tempted to call Dad again and ask him to come down here and help.”

  “You don’t think that he’s learning anything up at that lodge?”

  Nancy shrugged, then started walking back toward the big brick house.

  “What did Hannah have to say to you that upset you so, Nancy?” Ned asked, catching up with her.

  “She said that she’d talked to Mr. Mathews—you know he’s the nephew of Mr. Winthrop. Anyway, he called the house to ask her if we’d made any progress.”