The Clue at Black Creek Farm Page 9
Julie stood, and Holly slowly got to her feet too. “You’re going to walk calmly to the car,” Julie said, “like nothing is wrong.”
George looked at me, her eyes glassy with fear, and gave a slight nod, as if to say, Let’s do what they say. She left the tablet and headphones inside the café and met us outside. Together, we walked slowly to Jack and Julie’s gray sedan. Julie followed, smiling like we were all going on a picnic, and unlocked the doors, encouraging us all to “Climb in—don’t be shy!”
George and I settled ourselves in the backseat. Julie and Holly slammed the doors, and there was a loud click as they locked. I reached instantly for the handle on the inside of the door, but it wouldn’t budge; Child locks, I mouthed to George. We couldn’t unlock the doors and get out—even if we were willing to escape a moving car. We had to go wherever Julie wanted to take us.
I glanced out the window just in time to spot Officer Bailey leading two teenage boys out of an alley down the street. I recognized the teens as Toby Farelly and Steve Minerva, two boys who were known throughout River Heights to have a rather colorful history with the law. Each of them was holding two cans of spray paint. Of course, I realized; Officer Bailey must have seen an actual crime being committed and decided to go after the vandals. It only made sense, since he hadn’t exactly been excited to be keeping an eye on me to begin with.
I tried the door handle one more time, then the electric windows, but neither worked. Finally I gave up and just pounded on the window.
“Officer Bailey!” I screamed as loud as I possibly could. “Help us! She’s kidnapping us! Officer Bailey!”
Our car peeled out of its space just as a hand smacked me hard across the face. I blinked and looked up front; Holly had hit me. Julie had both hands on the wheel.
“You’ll pay for that,” Julie said darkly, anger seeming to emanate from her body.
I didn’t doubt that I would. But I had only one chance to get Officer Bailey’s attention.
I looked back at him. He was watching our car speed off.
Did he see me?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Into the Woods
“WHAT DO WE DO WITH them?” Holly asked hesitantly. She shot a nervous glance at the backseat, where George and I were watching them curiously.
“What do you think we do with them?” Julie spat. “They know everything, Holly. We can’t just drop them off at their parents’ houses.”
“Maybe . . . ,” Holly said slowly. “Maybe we could take them somewhere and lock them up? My grandparents have a summer cottage I don’t think is being used right now. It’s about an hour away, but . . .”
“That’s not enough, Holly.” Julie’s voice was as sharp as a knife. “They can’t be out there, knowing what they know.”
I looked at George in alarm. They’re going to kill us.
She looked at me and said nothing, but a tear escaped from her left eye.
I felt like my heart might explode. To keep sane, I decided to do the only thing I knew how to do in this situation: get the criminal talking.
“What exactly happened, Julie?” I asked in as gentle a voice as I could manage. “I mean, there must be a reason you did what you did.”
Julie let out a rueful laugh. “Oh, there was a reason,” she said. “I lost my job last year, as you know. It was a very lucrative, high-paying job. Losing it was a pretty huge blow. Jack’s a lawyer, sure, but half the cases he works are pro bono. We burned through our savings really fast. We started having trouble paying the mortgage on our apartment. We couldn’t afford the payments on our cars and had to give one up.” She paused. “Meanwhile,” she said, “my wealthy father-in-law—who, back in the day, had more money than Jack or I could shake a stick at—helped one sick girl’s family and decided to pursue this cockamamie organic farm idea, sinking half his net worth into it. Did I mention that Sam had left Jack half his estate in his will? Jack and I watched our inheritance dwindle for more than a year. Then I got pregnant, and I decided I had to do something about the farm.”
George cleared her throat. I could tell she was scared. “But isn’t this kind of . . . extreme?” she asked. “I mean, if your ultimate goal is just to get him to sell the farm. Now you’re kidnapping us? Maybe . . .”
Hurting us, I finished for her. But George’s voice was gone. She couldn’t say it.
“It wasn’t meant to go this far,” Julie said with a sigh. “I mean, the farm was already struggling. I thought Sam would only need one really disastrous year to realize what a big mistake he’d made. Hence, the contaminate-the-vegetables-with-E. coli plan. I wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea of giving myself E-coli. But I had my family to think about. I figured once word got around that Black Creek Farm was selling vegetables that could actually make you sick, that would do it. But the thing is”—Julie let out a crazy laugh—“Sam didn’t give up.”
“He loves the farm,” I said, wanting to keep her arguing with me.
“He does,” said Julie. “And he kept fighting, and got you and your friends involved. I realized the stakes had to get higher, faster. I knew that Sam was a softie. I knew he wouldn’t put up with danger to his family.”
She suddenly pulled into a parking lot. I looked around. Kepner Park. It was a large park just outside River Heights that had a small pond and hiking trails.
“Anyway,” Julie said, turning back to face us with that same deranged smile, “now we’re going to go for a hike.”
I looked at George. She wants to get us out into the woods and do something to us, I realized. Maybe something so horrible that we’ll never come out.
George looked like she had reached this conclusion as well.
“Come on.” Lifting her phone and giving it a little shake, Julie herded us out of the car and onto the blue hiking trail. I looked around at the parking lot, heart pounding, wondering if this was the last piece of civilization I’d see. But then Julie shoved me along.
“Let’s go.”
We walked down the trail for maybe half a mile. Then Julie stopped us. “Into the woods,” she commanded. I felt my stomach clench. This is bad. This is really bad. But for once my mind was blank. I didn’t know what else to do.
George and I followed Julie’s commands and left the trail, walking farther until we reached a small clearing.
“What are you going to do to us?” George demanded.
Julie smiled, pulling a long, sharp-looking knife from her purse. There was still red on the blade. Julie looked at it and laughed.
“Sorry, girls—there may still be some chicken blood on there,” she said.
I felt like I was going to be sick. I reached into my pocket, trying to dial my dad on the phone without being detected. Do I even have service? I couldn’t tell if my fingers were hitting the right buttons.
Julie moved closer to me and held up the knife, her hands shaking. “You’re first,” she said, “since you’re the sneaky one.”
I felt like I was in a nightmare; I wanted to scream or run, but my feet were rooted to the spot.
Julie held the knife high. It gleamed in the sun.
“No!” Holly’s voice suddenly split the air. “Julie, don’t!”
Julie turned and glared at her accomplice. “What’s your problem now?”
“It’s not worth this,” Holly said, and as she moved closer, I could see that her face was ghostly white. “Listen, I’m passionate about this CSA and the principles it stands for. So when I agreed to contaminate those vegetables at the buffet, I only did it because you’re my best friend and you were desperate. But you swore no one would get hurt. And I’m not okay with hurting people, Julie, especially not kids.” She gestured helplessly at George and me.
Julie stepped closer to Holly and held out the knife. “Holly,” she said in a cool voice, “if I’m willing to get rid of two teenagers over this, why would you assume I’m not willing to get rid of you?”
I gasped. Had our last hope of making Julie see reason been defeated?
But then I heard the slightest bit of movement.
I turned toward the trees we’d walked through to enter the clearing and spotted Officer Bailey, creeping forward with a gun trained on Julie. I took in a breath, but he held his finger to his lips and I forced myself to look away.
“FREEZE! Drop your weapon!”
Julie turned around, startled, to face Officer Bailey and three of his finest colleagues, all with guns trained on her.
Relief washed over me like a hot bath on a cold day. He did see me, I realized with satisfaction. The ruckus I’d made just before Julie raced out of her parking space had worked.
Julie struggled, but eventually the police forced her to drop her weapon. I was beginning to realize that Julie was seriously out of her mind; clearly, the woman had no idea when to give up. When the knife was down, I nearly collapsed with relief. I ran to George and hugged her as hard as I could.
“Please forgive me,” I cried. “Please, please, please, please, please, George . . .”
“Forgive you for what?” she asked, pulling back with an expression of genuine confusion.
“For looking back at you in the café,” I said, thinking it was obvious. “If I hadn’t done that, they might not have made you get into the car with me.”
George shook her head. “Nancy, they saw me earlier. I waited on them.”
“But—”
“Shhhh,” she said, hugging me hard again. “I would have done the same thing. And honestly? I’m just glad we’re alive to tell the tale.”
Once Julie and Holly had been handcuffed and led out to the police cruiser, Officer Bailey came back to lead George and me back to the parking lot. Just as we got there, a familiar car squealed into the parking lot, stopping short. The door flung open, and my dad came running out toward us.
He grabbed me in a big hug, then pulled back and looked us both over. “Are you girls okay?” he asked. “Nancy, what on earth are you doing working a case this dangerous without my help?”
I shrugged, not sure what to say. “It didn’t seem that dangerous at the beginning,” I said honestly. “I mean . . . who knew people could get this worked up about organic farming?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Harvest Time
“OOH, IT’S REALLY GETTING CHILLY,” said Bess, pulling her wool cardigan tighter around her as we moved through the buffet line in the outdoor tent. “The growing season’s almost over.”
“And thanks to Nancy,” Abby said with a smile as she spooned some eggplant curry onto our plates, “Black Creek Farm has had a very successful year after all.”
We were back at Black Creek a few months after all the excitement. Sam had invited George, Bess, Ned, and me for an end-of-harvest dinner and celebration. The farm looked incredibly beautiful, covered in all its fall foliage. Pumpkins were growing in half the fields now, and Abby said they were having great luck selling them at the farm stand and at local farmers’ markets.
“How is Jack doing?” I asked Abby.
“He’s right behind you,” she said with a wink. “You can ask him yourself.”
I turned around and found—sure enough—a tired-looking but cheerful Jack, holding a baby boy in a carrier.
“Nancy!” he greeted me. “Have you met Owen?”
“This is Owen?” I asked, leaning in and gently touching the baby’s tiny curled-up fist.
Jack nodded, smiling. “He almost slept six hours straight last night.”
I laughed. “Is that good or bad?”
“It’s good!” Jack said. “For his age? It’s very, very good. But anyway, thank goodness for my parents. If they weren’t here, if they hadn’t offered to let us move in, I don’t know what I’d be doing.”
After the dust had settled in the case against Julie, it had become clear that Julie had been lying about Jack sitting outside my house with the gun. Jack really hadn’t known anything about her plan to convince Sam to close Black Creek Farm. Julie had the baby shortly after being placed in custody and was still in jail, awaiting trial, along with Holly. Things didn’t look good for Julie, but Abby had told me that Jack still brought baby Owen to visit her every other week. Their marriage was over, but Jack wanted Owen to know his mother.
“I’m so glad it’s working out for you,” I said honestly. “You look—happy!”
Jack smiled. “You know what? I am happy,” he said. “This isn’t how I pictured this happening at all, but the whole experience has brought me a lot closer to my family. And it’s made me realize—all the silly, petty things I was worried about before Owen was born? Complaining about my inheritance, which Julie clearly took a lot more seriously than I thought? None of that matters. The more I learn about the farm, the more I like it. I’m just enjoying getting to live here with my parents.”
“It sounds like you’ve really come around to Black Creek,” I said, smiling.
“I have,” Jack admitted. “It’s a great place. And I’m excited for this little guy to grow up here.”
Just then I spotted someone I really wanted to see out of the corner of my eye. I asked Jack if he could excuse me, put my plate down on a table, and ran over.
“Sam!”
The gray-haired, rosy-cheeked farmer turned and faced me with a big smile. “Nancy! I’m so glad you and your friends could come.”
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“I’m great,” said Sam. “Not completely cured. But it looks like the first round of chemo is working, and my doctors seem optimistic.”
“That’s fantastic!” I cried.
“It is!” Sam agreed. “Plus, the farm is thriving. I mean, look at all the people here. This is only about half of our CSA members. It’s weird, but the publicity we got from the whole Julie debacle has really driven a lot of customers our way. We’re breaking even for this year, and if this continues, it looks like we’ll do much better next year.”
“I’m really happy for you,” I said sincerely. I’d grown fond of Sam in the short time we’d worked together. It was great to see how his life had turned around in just a few short months.
“Well, we have you to thank, Nancy,” Sam said, patting my shoulder. “Meeting you at that buffet was the best thing that could have happened to me. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you’ve done for our family.”
I shrugged. “Give me a hug, and we’ll be square.”
So he did—and we were.
I went back to pick up my plate and move through the rest of the buffet. Then I joined George, Bess, and Ned at a small table at the edge of the tent. They had already dug into their dinner, which they all agreed was delicious. I took a bite and let out a little sigh of pleasure.
“This tastes amazing,” I said.
George smiled. “So, Nancy,” she said with a mischievous look, “has working on this case made you want to get more involved in the growing of your food?”
I poked a carrot with my fork. “Actually,” I admitted, “I think I’m done with farms for a while—though I did sign my family up for the Black Creek CSA next year!”
Dear Diary,
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THOUGH IT’S FAR FROM AN IDEAL SITUATION, I’m happy that Jack is making the most of it at Black Creek Farm. And who knows—maybe little Owen will grow up to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps? I’m just relieved that Sam can continue to follow his dream, with his family supporting him every step of the way.
And luckily for my dad and me, Hannah has already started planning healthy menus around our Black Creek Farm CSA share. For now, though, I have to run—Ned’s picking me up for a decidedly unorganic burger-and-fries date.
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READ WHAT HAPPENS IN THE NEXT MYSTERY IN THE NANCY DREW DIARIES,
A Script for Danger
Dear Diary,
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A FEW MONTHS AGO, THE RIVER HEIGHTS Tribune announced that
Alex Burgess, an exciting new director, was shooting a film in River Heights—starring Brian Newsome! Since then, everyone has been buzzing about how exciting it is to have one of Hollywood’s biggest stars in our little Midwestern town (especially Bess, of course).
I’ve always thought it would be thrilling to visit a movie set—the actors, the costumes, and watching a story come to life. I never imagined that most of the drama would be behind the camera…
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Action on the Set
“I THINK I’M GOING TO FAINT.”
Bess Marvin, my best friend, lifted up her sunglasses and surveyed the scene in front of us. It was nine a.m. and we had just arrived at the River Heights train station, which was filled with giant trucks, trailers, and a few dozen spectators, all waiting as anxiously as we were.
“He’s just a person!” snorted George Fayne, my other best friend and Bess’s cousin. Although she and Bess are related, they are complete opposites. Take their outfits this morning: Bess was dressed in an elegant blue wrap dress with intricate embroidery along the neckline. Her hair curled softly around her face, and she was wearing just the right amount of mascara to make her lashes look “natural but flirty,” according to her. George, on the other hand, was not pleased about getting up so early, and could barely be bothered to throw on a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a faded T-shirt that had been through one too many spin cycles.
“Ned texted me to say that he saved us a good spot,” I said, shepherding my friends through the small but eager crowd in the parking lot. Many people were holding signs that read BRIAN, I LOVE YOU! and RIVER HEIGHTS WELCOMES BRIAN NEWSOME!