Mystery by Moonlight

by Carolyn Keene

  As soon as he saw Ned and Nancy he tossed what he was holding back into the cave and shielded the entrance with his body. “Are you clones, or what?”

  Ned shook his head. “It seems you’re the one turning up everywhere today. This is private property.”

  “Delmonico doesn’t care if I hike in here. Anyway, what he doesn’t know won’t bother him. What’s your excuse?” Jim challenged Ned.

  Nancy touched Ned’s arm. “Look,” she whispered, “whatever Jim’s up to is his business. If he’s looking for a run-in with Delmonico, that’s his problem. Let’s just get out of here.”

  Nancy was grateful when Ned agreed readily. “Right. Besides, this is where we should cut off to get back to the house. Otherwise, we’d have to tackle the dirt road barefoot too.”

  • • •

  Bess greeted them a little while later from the yard. “You guys are a sight for sore eyes, even if you do look about as bad as my laundry!” She and George were taking a load of soaking wet laundry off the line and throwing it in a basket. Ned and Nancy had stopped to retrieve their flip-flops from the deck.

  “Tell me about it,” Nancy said, turning on the garden hose to wash off her feet. They were sore and filthy. Ned stuck out his feet for her to hose down too.

  “I was getting worried when the storm came in and you weren’t back here yet. But I figured you guys would take shelter somewhere,” George said.

  Ned and Nancy exchanged a look. “Not exactly!” they said in unison, then began to laugh.

  “Actually, it’s a long story, and I’ll fill you in on the details later,” Nancy said. “First, I’m hitting the shower.”

  Then Nancy remembered Bess had told her the night before that the cottage didn’t have a dryer—and all those wet clothes! “Do you want to run in to town to a laundromat? I’ll drive you in before dinner, and we can pick up pizza or something.”

  “No need,” George answered. “Since we’re going to Emily’s to watch a video tonight, I’m pretty sure she’ll let us use her dryer. I’ll call to check.”

  “I’m curious to see what movie Ravi picked out for the occasion!” Bess remarked.

  • • •

  A couple of hours later, to her dismay, Bess found out. “What a guy flick!” she grumbled from an overstuffed chair in Emily’s sprawling living room.

  Ned and Nancy were curled up together on one of the two couches in the room. George was sprawled on the floor in front of the TV. The other couch held Ravi and Emily—with a good three feet and a bowl of popcorn between them. Nancy had been trying to figure out their relationship all night. Had they dated in college, or were they just friends?

  But at the moment her eyes were riveted on the oversized TV. The movie was a top-notch Prohibition era mystery she’d never seen before, Dark Waters Run Red.

  “It’s not a guy flick,” George corrected Bess. “It’s just film noir. A real classic.”

  “Shhh!” Ravi commanded from the couch. Nancy turned and saw he was perched at the edge of his seat, eyes bright and excited as he viewed the screen.

  She quickly turned back in time to see the action. Heavily armed government agents surrounded a gangster’s house. Roaring Twenties dance music blared from the house’s open windows out onto the driveway. Barely visible on the dimly lit screen were the shiny black sedans parked outside the house. The female lead, a gangster’s moll, dressed in a sparkly flapper outfit, strolled onto the porch, a long cigarette holder propped between her fingers. The camera zoomed in on her face. She stared with a bored expression beyond the porch out into the night. Suddenly, her face registered pure panic.

  She screamed and bolted back into the house. “Guys,” she cried in a pure Brooklyn accent, “we’ve been busted!”

  With that, pandemonium broke loose, and a shoot-out lit up the screen. The camera panned back and Nancy gasped.

  “Why, that looks just like the Malone house!”

  Ravi whooped with glee. “Because it is! And because once upon a time this place was the real hideaway of notorious mobster, Mike Malone!”

  7

  A Secret Revealed

  Emily jumped up. She stared down at Ravi, who was still on the sofa. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

  Ravi seemed stunned by Emily’s reaction. He stood up slowly. “Emily, I can’t believe you, of all people, didn’t know the history of this place before you bought it. I thought it was beyond cool, considering your work.”

  “What work, and what makes you think this place is an old gangster hideout?” Nancy asked. George grabbed the remote and stopped the tape. “Wasn’t it probably just rented out for some location shooting?”

  “Of course it was rented by the movie company, long after Mike Malone was carted off to jail. In fact, the film was made long after the valley was flooded—which is how I found out about this. I was researching the lost lands in the area, and a footnote in one of my references mentioned how when they filmed this movie in the forties, they had to avoid shots that showed the full expanse of the lake. Back in Malone’s day, there actually was a small lake here. It was big enough to swim in, I guess, and it was secluded. Made a good place to hang low after some caper.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Emily moaned, sinking back down on the couch. “All I knew is this place was called the old Malone place. I didn’t know Mike Malone had anything to do with it.”

  Ravi shook his head in disbelief. “Emily, you’ve been working on a documentary on Prohibition era gangsters for what—two, three years now?”

  “You have?” Nancy was impressed. Her own interest in solving crimes had made a bit of a hobby out of learning about the exploits of the G-men and how they battled the brazen Chicago mob. At home she even had a WANTED poster of Al Capone.

  “Whenever I have time,” Emily said dully. “It’s a long-term project. I do some, then I wait to get more money together to film and research some more.”

  Ravi looked incredulous. “I can’t believe this woman.” He turned to Nancy. “Emily’s outline for this project, and the first taped segments, were part of her senior thesis. It’s what won her a position as a stringer for the news channel.” Addressing Emily again, he continued. “I don’t know why you’re being so modest about it. But so what if it’s a long term project? How could you not know about Mike Malone and his connection to this area?”

  “I was concentrating on Chicago-area people like Capone. I hadn’t hit the East Coast, New York-Boston mobs yet,” Emily said defensively.

  “What’s the problem?” Ned asked. “I think it makes the whole place more interesting. Hey, if this was really some Prohibition era goon’s getaway, maybe there’s loot stashed somewhere.”

  “Like stolen jewels?” Bess said, suddenly interested.

  Ned cracked up. “I was just joking, Bess.”

  “Believe me, back in the twenties when this guy was busted,” Ravi said, “the Feds would have scoured every inch of this place.”

  Nancy nodded agreement. “They’d have been looking for more than jewels and stolen property back then. The G-men would have carted off all the weapons, booze, and the like. It’s been years, and this house has surely had several owners since Malone.” She questioned Emily with a glance.

  “I imagine so,” Emily said tightly. “The family I bought it from had it since the fifties.”

  “But,” George mused, “maybe someone else thinks like Bess. Maybe that’s why someone tried burgling us today.”

  Bess turned to Emily. “That’s why you’re upset, isn’t it? It’s hard to live in a place where someone’s been murdered!” Bess shuddered. “Or maybe it’s the ghosts of Malone’s victims that have been haunting us over the past week!”

  “Or Malone himself!” Ravi said in a deep spooky voice, then broke into a laugh.

  “Don’t joke about things like that. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bess said, offended.

  “Enough about ghosts, robbers, loot, and Mike Malone!” Nancy declared, get
ting up. It was obvious Bess was getting carried away with things, and Emily looked really upset. “It’s getting late. Let’s grab the laundry from the dryer and head back home,” she suggested.

  “Good idea,” George said. The girls waved goodbye to Emily and Ravi, and headed into the mudroom that ran along the back of the house where the washer and dryer were hooked up.

  A few minutes later they were carrying the laundry baskets across the lawn by the beam of Ned’s flashlight.

  “More storms coming,” George noted, gesturing out over the lake. Sheet-lightning illuminated the sky, but the storm was too far off to hear the thunder.

  “Or blowing past us,” Nancy said, realizing the temperature had dropped a bit. She put down her basket to zip up her pale blue hooded sweatshirt, when she caught the movement of something out of the corner of her eye. She was sure she saw a dim light bobbing through the woods between the Fayne cottage and the Lawrence-Joneses’ place. It flickered again for a moment, then was gone.

  Nancy decided not to mention what she’d seen to the others; she didn’t want to scare them. She picked up her basket, but as they approached the cottage, she handed it to Ned. “Ned, I’ve got to get something from the car. I might hang out here a few minutes.”

  “Want me along?” Ned said.

  Nancy shook her head. “I’ll only be a few minutes, then I’ll be back. Bess’ll feel safer from ghosts or whatever with you in the house.”

  Ned pecked Nancy on the cheek and headed inside. Nancy went to her car. She popped open the glove compartment and took out a flashlight. She made her way through the brush into the forest.

  She stopped for a moment and tried to get her bearings. The light she saw had bobbed off to her left and deeper into the forest. Moving as quietly as she could, she aimed her flashlight down at the ground, not wanting to betray her presence to whomever was lurking nearby.

  Though Nancy had downplayed Bess’s fears earlier, she was beginning to suspect Bess was right. Someone was “haunting” the Malone property. Just not a ghost. Someone alive, curious, and on a personal treasure hunt for something he or she believed Malone had stashed away on his property before he was carted off to jail.

  George’s suggestion that there might still be loot around had seemed pretty ludicrous. But Nancy was beginning to wonder. Still, she thought, why root around in the cottage, when the Malone house itself would have certainly made a better hiding place? For all Nancy knew, the cottage might have been built after Malone had gone to jail. She made a mental note to ask Emily if all the buildings on the original property dated from the same era.

  Nancy also planned to ask if Emily had been the victim of any weird incidents—either burglaries or any kind of harassment. Come to think of it, Steve Delmonico seemed more than capable of trying to either spook Emily into selling her land, or just make her life miserable.

  And then there was Jim. Nancy had almost forgotten about him. He had been doing something strange in Steve’s woods today. Definitely something he didn’t want Nancy and Ned to see. Was he digging around looking for something? He was intimate with the land around here, and was probably well-acquainted with local legend. Finding unclaimed money or jewelry would be a boon to someone embroiled in legal actions over tribal rights.

  Suddenly a shrill screech pierced through the trees.

  Nancy froze. That same scream again. It had come from just ahead of her. It came from the same direction where she’d last seen that light.

  Someone. Some woman was in trouble big-time. Nancy sprang into action. Sticking to the trail she had found, she broke into a slow, careful jog. Branches scraped her cheek.

  She crashed through the brush, not caring who heard her. Suddenly, something caught her ankle. A blinding flash of light shone through the woods. Unable to see, Nancy lost her balance and flew face down into a tangle of thorny berry bushes.

  8

  Blinded by the Light

  For a moment, Nancy lay in the bramble, stunned. Then, with a low moan, she gingerly freed herself of the thorny branches and got back on her feet. Her eyes were still having trouble regaining any night vision.

  Though her arms and legs felt bruised and sore, she knew she wasn’t hurt. She touched her face hoping she hadn’t scratched herself up too badly. Apparently, when she’d tripped, she’d broken her fall with her arms before hitting the ground.

  Tripped! One minute Nancy was running, the next she ran straight into something. But what? And what was that light? Nancy wondered, looking around. Gradually, the world around her came into focus. She spotted her flashlight lying in the middle of the path—right next to a wire. With sudden insight, Nancy realized what must have happened. The wire had been connected to some sort of camera flash. This camera setup probably belonged to naturalists. “I really blew it this time,” she groaned softly.

  The wire had broken, but by grabbing one end, Nancy followed it back to where it had been tied around a tree. A little farther down the trail she saw a small animal carcass dangling from a branch. Nancy recoiled in distaste. It was really gross. Obviously, it was some sort of bait—this time, tied up out of easy reach of Tiny, or any other passing dog.

  Nancy couldn’t believe her bad luck. As she had run through the woods, she had stumbled across what was surely one of the Lawrence-Joneses’ research setups. Nancy wasn’t sure what to do. Whoever had screamed hadn’t screamed again—just like the other night. But was the person all right? Nancy guessed she’d probably made enough noise by setting off the flash and crashing into the brush that any wrongdoer would be long gone.

  Meanwhile Nancy’s conscience was pricking her. She had managed to mess up some of the Lawrence-Joneses’ work. They would be on Bess and George’s case for sure now, and probably raise trouble when Jen and Jason got home.

  Suddenly she heard voices coming toward her. Before Nancy could think about it, she ducked behind a boulder and peered around the edge.

  “Were in luck this time!”

  The sound of Millicent Lawrence-Jones’s voice made Nancy cringe. A moment later a bright flashlight beam illuminated the path. Nancy tried to work up her nerve to show herself to the couple. But before she had a chance, Caspar dropped to his knees and let out an angry exclamation.

  “Caspar, what’s wrong?”

  “One of those kids tripped the wire—this is a sneaker mark! Either it was that mysterious prowler we’ve glimpsed before, or it was that crew from next door horsing around in the woods. Well, we’ll get a good picture of whomever it was, that’s for sure.”

  “So we missed the screech owl again!” Millicent said.

  Screech owl! Nancy’s jaw dropped. She’d never heard one before, but she knew from reading that they had an eerie sound that Native Americans often associated with death and the spirit world. Nancy felt both relieved and rather foolish. So it wasn’t a woman in danger or one of Bess’s ghosts. At least that’ll put Bess’s mind at rest, she thought.

  “I might as well reset the camera now,” Caspar grumbled. “But really, our research here is becoming pretty impossible—between those kids in the house and that canoe out on the lake at night. If our moonlight boater doesn’t cool it soon, he’ll spook all the Canada geese away from the inlet beyond the camp. If that other noise doesn’t drive them off first.”

  What noise? Nancy wondered.

  “It’s as if someone’s digging a well somewhere,” Millicent said. “But why at night? And who?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m getting sick of it all. This lake’s getting overdeveloped, and newcomers have no respect for the wildlife here. Believe me, next year I bet those geese don’t stop here.”

  “That would be awful, Caspar,” Millicent said, stooping down to help him reset the wire. “It’s a major layover on their migration route.”

  “Yeah, well, these kids don’t care. I thought they’d be gone by now—at least those campers have left for the season. But now there are more kids and more trouble. Nothing I’ve tried so far has worked. I
think the time’s come to stop being nice.”

  Nancy couldn’t believe her ears. Were these people fanatics or what? It was one thing to tell off a neighbor who was annoying you. It was quite another to plot to scare them. Nancy was tempted to march right up to Caspar and say whatever he was planning—or what he had already done—bordered on serious harassment.

  But Nancy forced herself to calm down. These people were angry, and she didn’t want to confront them alone in the woods. She’d make a point of visiting them tomorrow and telling them off. She probably still owed them an explanation for tonight, but they also owed George and Bess some sort of apology for spooking them half to death.

  She waited until they finished setting up their camera. As soon as they left, she walked quietly back to the cottage, arriving in the backyard just as another thunderstorm broke.

  She raced up the porch steps, and the back door flew open in her face. It was Ned, looking worried. “You’re okay!” he exclaimed, then shouted over his shoulder, “You don’t have to call the cops.”

  “The cops?” Nancy hurried into the house after Ned. George was just hanging up the phone and Bess looked petrified.

  “Oh, Nan,” Bess cried, relief washing over her face. “You went to the car and then seemed to be gone a long time, and then there was that scream!”

  “We went out looking for you, but just as we started into the woods, Bess thought she saw someone sneaking around the side of the house. We ran back here,” George said. “But we couldn’t see anything.”

  “I thought, maybe it was time to call the state police,” Ned added.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry I freaked you guys out,” Nancy said with a sigh. Of course they worried something had happened to her. After all, hadn’t she herself believed someone was in trouble in the woods? “At least you’ll be happy to know it wasn’t one of your ghosts, Bess.”