Lost in the Everglades Read online

  from Susan and Griffin. Specifically, she needed to

  know whether Jade had ever been involved in citizens'

  groups, environmental and otherwise. She also needed

  to know how strongly Jade had felt about the

  degradation of the Everglades.

  Half an hour later after enjoying a dessert of mango

  parfaits, the girls got up to go. As Nancy was leaving

  the tip, she noticed a woman sitting two tables away.

  She was hunched over a newspaper, wearing a big

  white hat.

  The woman glanced over her shoulder—ever so

  slightly—in the direction of Nancy's table. Nancy

  noticed just then that the woman's newspaper was

  upside down.

  Nancy frowned. Had the woman been listening to

  their conversation?

  “Come on, Nancy, let's go,” Bess said from the

  doorway.

  The woman glanced away quickly. Nancy shrugged

  and followed Bess and George. “Okay, coming,” she

  called out.

  As they left Nancy turned and stared at the woman

  one last time. Now the woman was talking quietly into

  a purple cell phone.

  There was something familiar about her. Or am I

  just being paranoid? Nancy wondered.

  In any case she made a mental note: big white hat,

  purple cell phone. She would remember the woman if

  she ran into her again dressed like that.

  “Do you suppose Jade might have been a member of

  CAMC?” Bess spoke up from the backseat.

  The girls were driving back to Flamingo. The

  midafternoon sun beat down and shimmered on the

  asphalt pavement. Thank goodness for air conditioning,

  Nancy thought fleetingly as she made a left turn at a

  light ten miles outside of the park.

  “That would explain the piece of paper you found

  with the word Pantera on it, Nan,” George agreed.

  Nancy nodded. “Maybe. Or maybe Jade was in-

  terested in the Panterra Corporation's business all on

  her own, without being a part of CAMC or any other

  group.” She added, “We can ask Susan when we get

  back to Flamingo. We're meeting her later this

  afternoon for a sunset cruise thing.”

  “A sunset cruise sounds like fun!” Bess exclaimed.

  “I want to talk to Griffin, too,” Nancy added. “He

  might know some stuff about Jade that Susan doesn't

  know.”

  “Don't be too hard on the poor guy, okay?” Bess

  reminded Nancy. “He's still in mourning.”

  “I'll try to be nice,” Nancy promised.

  Nancy pressed her foot on the accelerator and sped

  up slightly. The road was relatively deserted, with an

  orange grove on one side and a fallow field on the

  other. Tall, brownish green palm trees lined both sides

  of the road. Just ahead of them, a flock of herons

  swooped through the air. One of them had a small fish

  dangling from its mouth.

  Nancy glanced in the rearview mirror. There was a

  gray car behind them, in the distance. No other cars

  were around.

  “It is so hot,” Bess remarked, fanning herself with

  the road map. “When we get back to our cabin, I'm

  going to sit in the bathtub in my bathing suit and

  pretend it's a swimming pool.”

  “I'll crank up the AC,” Nancy offered. She reached

  down and adjusted the controls. She peeked in the

  rearview mirror again. The gray car was catching up to

  them.

  That driver's going awfully fast, she thought.

  The mysterious gray car continued closing the

  distance. Out of instinct, Nancy glanced at the license

  plate number. The plate was caked with mud and

  partially obscured.

  She could just barely make out the first three letters.

  The first one looked like L. No, J. The second one was

  a D, and the third one was an O.

  JDO. But the rest of the plate was unreadable.

  All of a sudden, the gray car veered into the left lane

  and put on an extra burst of speed. It caught up to

  Nancy's car, as if to pass her.

  Instead of moving ahead, the gray car started

  inching closer to Nancy's. Nancy tried to inch to the

  right, to get out of the way. But the road had no

  shoulder. In seconds she would smash against a palm

  tree or roll over the grassy embankment.

  The gray car inched even closer to Nancy's car.

  “Nancy, look out!” Bess shouted.

  7. Girl Overboard

  The gray car bumped up against the side of the girls'

  rental. Nancy heard the awful sound of metal scraping

  against metal.

  “What is that crazy person doing?” George yelled.

  “I think that crazy person is trying to run us off the

  road,” Nancy said.

  She gripped the wheel tightly, trying to stay in

  control as she felt their car weave and wobble to the

  right. She glanced quickly at the edge of the road.

  There was a steep embankment leading down to a

  dense grove of orange trees.

  If we get run off the road, Nancy thought worriedly,

  we could go tumbling down the embankment. Our car

  could flip over. . . .

  Nancy glanced to the left, trying to make out the

  drivers face. The windows of the gray car were tinted,

  making it difficult to see in. Plus, the person was

  wearing dark glasses, a wide-brimmed hat, and a coat

  with the collar turned up.

  A coat in this heat? Nancy wondered. Obviously the

  person was trying to disguise him or herself.

  A disguise meant that the person had intended to

  follow Nancy and her friends, and to run them off the

  road. The whole thing had been premeditated.

  The gray car bumped Nancy's again, but harder this

  time. Bess let out a scream. Nancy was able to hold the

  car steady, but barely. Thinking quickly she abruptly

  slammed on the brakes.

  The gray car didn't stop. Instead, it kicked up a

  cloud of dust and sped away, out of sight.

  The girls' car did a one-eighty in the middle of the

  road before coming to a stop. Bess was still screaming,

  while George was white-knuckling the dashboard, not

  saying a word.

  “Bess, it's okay, the other car's gone!” Nancy yelled.

  Bess clamped a hand over her mouth and stopped

  screaming. “Oh.”

  Nancy shifted the car into Park, opened the door,

  and got out. The air shimmered with heat. Nearby, a

  couple of roseate spoonbills were sitting on the ground,

  watching her.

  Nancy pushed her hair back and knelt down to

  examine the driver's side door. There was a slight dent

  and some scratches. Considering everything, though,

  the damage wasn't too bad. Wiping a bead of sweat

  from her forehead, she got back into the car.

  “Well?” Bess asked. “How bad is it?”

  “Not too much damage,” Nancy said.

  Nancy started the car up again. She proceeded down

  the road as fast as the speed limit would allow.

  George turned to her. “Um, Nancy? What are you

  doing?”

  �
��I'm going to try to catch up to that gray car,” Nancy

  replied. “I want to get the rest of the license plate

  number.”

  “What if that crazy person wants to play bumper cars

  again?” Bess asked anxiously.

  “I won't let that happen, believe me,” Nancy

  promised.

  The gray car had gotten too much of a head start,

  though, and by the time Nancy reached the next in-

  tersection, the gray car was nowhere in sight.

  “I want to report a hit-and-run.”

  Back at their cabin at Flamingo, Nancy was on the

  phone with the local police. George was lying on the

  floor, dressed in sweats, doing some ab crunches. Bess

  was in the bathroom, taking a shower. Nancy could

  hear her singing.

  After a moment Nancy was transferred to a police

  officer named Detective Garcia. Nancy told her what

  had happened to her, Bess, and George on their way

  home from Miami. Detective Garcia took down the

  information, then began asking Nancy some questions.

  “You didn't get the whole license plate number?”

  Detective Garcia asked.

  “I'm afraid not. Just JDO.' The rest of it was cov-

  ered with mud.”

  “Were those the first three letters, or the last three

  letters?”

  “First.”

  “Uh-huh,” Detective Garcia said. “You say it was

  some sort of a gray four-door sedan? Did you catch the

  make?”

  “I'm afraid not.”

  “Dark gray or light gray or silvery gray?”

  Nancy thought for a moment. “More like dark gray.

  Like a charcoal gray.”

  “Uh-huh. What about a description of the driver?

  Male or female? White, African-American, Asian-

  American, Hispanic, or other?”

  “I'm sorry, but I couldn't tell,” Nancy said apolo-

  getically. “The person was wearing a coat with the

  collar turned up, plus a wide-brimmed hat and sun-

  glasses. I couldn't even tell if it was a man or a woman.”

  “A coat in this heat?” Detective Garcia sounded

  surprised.

  “That's what I thought, too,” Nancy said.

  Detective Garcia asked Nancy a few more questions,

  then she took Nancy's name and phone number at the

  cabin. She promised to try to run a license check based

  on Nancy's information and call her with the results.

  Nancy thanked her and hung up. “Any progress?”

  George asked her. “Nine, ten, eleven,” she said as she

  continued to do her ab crunches. “I'm almost finished

  with this set,” she explained.

  “She said she'd do what she could, based on the

  partial license plate number and the description of the

  car,” Nancy said. She picked up the phone again.

  “Now who're you calling?” George asked.

  “I'm going to try to find the leader of CAMC—

  Citizens Against Manatee Commons. This Jeff Kelly

  guy.”

  Nancy cradled the phone against her ear, then

  picked up the phone book and put it on her lap. She

  looked up Jeff Kelly's name. There were a dozen Jeff

  Kellys in the phone book.

  “Oh, great,” Nancy moaned, then began dialing.

  A man answered on the first try. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Jeff Kelly? Is this the Jeff Kelly who's the head

  of CAMC?”

  “The head of what? You've got the wrong number.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  Nancy hung up and tried again. She went through

  eight similar conversations before she finally got lucky.

  When she dialed the number of the ninth Jeff Kelly,

  a man's voice answered. But instead of the usual

  “Hello?” he said, “Sandy?”

  Nancy started. “Uh, no, this is Nancy”

  “Sorry, I was expecting another call,” the man said.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Is this Jeff Kelly of CAMC?”

  “Speaking.”

  Nancy hesitated for a second. Should she come right

  out and ask him if he knew Jade Romero? Or should

  she get more information about CAMC and the Drakes

  first?

  She decided on the latter course. “I'm interested in

  learning more about your group,” she said after a

  moment. “I'm also interested in learning about the

  Panterra Corporation's projects in southern Florida.”

  There was a silence on the other end. “What's your

  interest, Nancy?” Jeff Kelly said after a moment.

  “I've been reading some articles. It sounds like their

  projects have caused a lot of harm to the Everglades,”

  Nancy explained.

  “That's the understatement of the year.” Jeff

  chuckled dryly. “Listen, there's a Save the Manatees

  lunch benefit at the Coconut Beach Club tomorrow,

  one o'clock. CAMC isn't sponsoring it, another

  environmental group is. But I'll be there, and so will

  some other CAMC members. The Drakes will be

  there, too.”

  “The Drakes?” Nancy said, surprised.

  “They come to all the pro-environment events,” Jeff

  said. “It's good public relations,” he added sarcastically.

  Jeff gave Nancy directions to the Coconut Beach

  Club. When he'd finished, he said, “See you tomorrow,

  then. It should be a fun time—it's a good cause, and

  you'll get the full Drake effect.”

  “Thanks for your help, Jeff.”

  “No problem.”

  Nancy said goodbye, then hung up. George had

  moved on to pushups. “What was that about?” George

  asked her, huffing and puffing.

  “We're going to a party tomorrow. It's a save the

  manatees' benefit. And I'm going to need you to do a

  special job,” Nancy told her.

  George stopped in the middle of a pushup. “What

  sort of special job'?”

  Nancy winked at George. “You'll see.”

  Bess emerged from the bathroom dressed in a fluffy

  pink robe. She was towel-drying her hair with a pink

  towel. “Why does George get a special job? Why don't

  I?” she complained.

  “Because you don't look like Jade Romero,” Nancy

  replied.

  The sun was just going down as Nancy, Susan,

  George, and Bess climbed aboard the large white

  sailboat. Susan had arranged for the girls to go on a

  special sunset cruise aboard the Seabreeze.

  Nancy was wearing a sundress that matched the

  cornflower blue of her eyes. Bess's dress was white,

  and George and Susan were both wearing linen slacks

  and shirts. The air was cool, especially on the boat.

  Nancy was glad that she'd brought her jeans jacket

  along.

  The Seabreeze was run by a couple of friends of

  Susan's, Jody and Michael, who took tourists for cruises

  around Florida Bay. Now, as the four girls strapped on

  their life preservers and sat down in their seats, Jody

  came up to them with glasses of a fruity-looking punch

  decorated with sprigs of fresh mint.

  “Cocktails?” Jody offered. “It's a mixture of seltzer,

  papaya juice, orange juice, and pineapple juice. I made

  it myself
from an old family recipe.”

  “Mmm, thanks,” Bess said, taking a glass.

  “Thank you,” Nancy said, taking a glass, too. “We're

  really excited about this cruise, Jody. How long will we

  be out?”

  “About an hour. Just sit back and enjoy,” Jody said

  with a smile.

  As Jody and Michael got the boat going, the four

  friends sipped their punches and stared out at the

  sunset. The sky was streaked with beautiful ribbons of

  pink, gold, and red. Hundreds of sea birds—pelicans,

  ospreys, herons, seagulls, and egrets—swooped

  through the air, then dove into the water for fish. In

  the distance Nancy could see tiny islands dotting the

  waters.

  Nancy took a deep breath. The air was fresh and

  salty smelling.

  “I can't believe what you guys went through this

  afternoon,” Susan said, tossing her long red hair over

  her shoulders. Just before boarding the Seabreeze,

  Nancy had filled Susan in on their trip to and from the

  Panterra Corporation. “Do the police have any

  information about who tried to run you off the road?”

  Susan asked.

  “Officer Garcia called me about an hour ago,” Nancy

  replied. “So far, she hasn't come up with anything.”

  “That's too bad.” Susan bit her lip. “Listen, girls. I

  asked you to come down here to visit, and I was hoping

  you'd help me find out what happened to Jade. But 1

  didn't expect you to be in danger. I don't like it that

  someone tried to send you flying into a ditch or

  whatever. I feel responsible.”

  “No problem, Susan,” Bess piped up. “What's a little

  detective work without danger? George, Nancy, and I

  are used to it. We thrive on danger, don't we?”

  George and Nancy stared at Bess, then at each

  other, and as if on cue burst out laughing.

  “Um, right,” George said after a moment. “We

  thrive on danger.”

  “We'll be careful,” Nancy reassured Susan. “And if

  things get too hairy—well, we'll rethink the whole

  situation.”

  Susan nodded. “Good.”

  Then Nancy remembered what she had meant to

  ask her friend. “Listen, Susan. Was Jade involved in

  any environmental groups that you know of? Was she

  really into preserving the Everglades?”

  Susan looked thoughtful. “She wasn't in any official

  environmental groups that I know of, although she may

  have gone to a meeting or two here and there,” she said