164 The Mystery Of The Mother Wolf

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164 The Mystery Of The Mother Wolf Page 8

by Carolyn Keene


  along and finds it before we freeze,” Bess said.

  “If someone skis by us on that trail, we'll still need to

  shout for help,” Nancy said. “But they'll have a better

  chance of hearing our voices if they stop to pick up this

  message.”

  “Good thinking,” Dexter said, “because most people

  would ski by too fast to hear us.”

  “Especially with all this wind,” George added.

  “But what if the last person has already skied down

  the mountain?” Bess asked.

  Bess echoed Nancy's worst fears, but Nancy saw no

  point in worrying the others. “I'm sure that the ski

  patrol goes down each slope at the end of the day, just

  to make sure that no one broke a leg or something.”

  Five minutes later they heard voices on the trail.

  “Hey, we're stuck!” Dexter bellowed. “Help!”

  A ski patroller in a maroon parka appeared in the

  space between the trees, waving a two-way radio at

  them. Nancy could barely make out his partner behind

  him.

  Ten seconds later the lift started up with a jolt, and

  the ski patrollers gave the kids the thumbs-up sign

  before picking up Nancy's pole and moving on.

  “Thank heavens!” Bess exclaimed, with a deep

  breath of relief.

  The lift sailed up the mountain again without a

  problem. Once they'd reached the top, Nancy skied

  over to the lift operator's hut and asked, “What hap-

  pened? Did the lift break or did you guys forget we

  were on it?”

  “The guy at the bottom must have really goofed,

  miss,” the operator said, a huge wad of bubble gum

  snapping in his jaws. “See, he calls me with the number

  of the last occupied chair after we close the lift at four

  o'clock. Then I call him back when that chair arrives at

  the top, and we stop the lift. Well, the number of the

  chair he gave me was the one that carried the

  passengers before you. Problem was, there was a good

  thirty-chair gap between you guys. I was just getting

  ready to close up shop and ski down for the night when

  ski patrol came by to say that passengers were still

  onboard. Oh, and if all that stuff wasn't weird enough,

  my phone line went dead, too.”

  The operator advised the kids to warm up with a cup

  of hot chocolate in the mountaintop lodge, which

  would be closing at four-thirty. As he was gesturing

  toward a round stone structure behind a stand of trees,

  a familiar dark-skinned man with a gray beard sneered

  at Nancy from the top of a nearby trail. The moment

  they locked gazes, the man skied away

  “Who's that?” Nancy asked, trying to jog her

  memory.

  “Bill Ehret,” Dexter replied. “He owns Thunderbird

  Ranch. I know him because he's a friend of Dad's.

  Actually, the reason Dad and I came to stay at Elk

  River Ranch is that Mr. Ehret recommended it. He

  thinks this whole area is great for outdoors stuff

  because it's so uncrowded, and that's exactly what Dad

  likes.”

  “Excuse me, guys,” Nancy said quickly, pushing

  herself toward the top of the trail with her remaining

  pole. Over her shoulder, she added, “I don't need any

  hot chocolate. Meet you at the base lodge.”

  Dexter frowned, throwing her a puzzled look as she

  took off. Nancy hoped she wasn't being rude, but she

  was eager to know why Mr. Ehret had been lurking

  around the area after their scare on the lift. Could he

  have given the lift operator the wrong information and

  then cut the phone line? she wondered.

  Nancy paused for a moment at the top of a double

  black diamond slope called Twister. Mr. Ehret's bright

  green parka was already halfway down it. If she didn't

  keep him in sight, she might lose him on one of the

  many woodland trails opening off the expert slope.

  I can't let myself get freaked by this hill, Nancy

  thought, even though I have only one pole. Taking a

  deep breath, she plunged down, doing quick parallel

  turns through the gigantic moguls at a frighteningly

  steep angle. Meanwhile, Mr. Ehret was zooming over

  the moguls way ahead, sending up showers of snow in

  his wake.

  I guess Mrs. Stevenson's bad driving didn't affect

  this guy's skiing after all, she mused as he executed a

  perfect right turn onto an adjoining trail.

  Nancy struggled to catch up. She leaned back on her

  skis with knees bent and pole tucked under her arm for

  maximum speed. In the setting sun, the moguls cast

  huge shadows that obscured parts of the snow like

  murky pools, making the skiing especially treacherous.

  By the time Nancy reached the narrow trail where Mr.

  Ehret had turned, he was already far ahead, a bright

  speck amid dim tree shadows.

  I'll never get him this way, Nancy thought, catching

  sight of him turning left onto yet another trail. She

  studied the trees to her left. I'll bet if I go through the

  woods, I'll end up on the trail Mr. Ehret is on now, she

  reasoned. I just wish I had more light.

  Nancy took a deep breath, then forged ahead into

  the woods. As she picked up speed, huge trees seemed

  to come at her like enemy soldiers. Sometimes an

  overhanging branch would slap her in the face, its

  needles pricking her skin. It was like a nightmare

  obstacle course, and she had to use all her athletic skill

  to avoid slamming into tree trunks.

  Nancy's legs were shaking by the time she reached

  the trail below, and to make matters worse, Mr. Ehret

  was a good fifty feet ahead. By the time the trail

  opened onto a broad intermediate slope leading to the

  base lodge, a group of lingering skiers had appeared

  from a higher part of the slope, blocking Nancy's way.

  Frustrated, Nancy excused herself, angling to get

  around them. Once free, Nancy scanned the wide

  slope, but Mr. Ehret had disappeared.

  Nancy raced down the hill. There's a chance I'll

  catch him at the lodge, she hoped.

  Several people were taking off their skis and leaning

  them against wooden ski rests when she arrived. Nancy

  studied the group but recognized no one. A patch of

  bright green flashed into her view amid a throng of

  departing skiers way over by the parking lot.

  Could that be Mr. Ehret getting into a maroon

  Jeep? she wondered. The person was too far away for

  her to tell.

  Nancy clenched her fists, feeling incredibly frus-

  trated. She knew that by the time she took off her skis

  and hurried over there, she'd be too late to catch him.

  Nancy skied over to the base of the chairlift, where

  the lift operator was talking to a telephone technician.

  “I'm so sorry, miss,” the operator said, when he

  learned that Nancy was one of the group who'd been

  stranded on the lift. “I tried to call my partner at the

  top of the lift, but for some reason, our phone line was

  dead. We're get
ting ready to fix it now.”

  After learning that the operator hadn't noticed

  anyone hanging around his area earlier, Nancy thanked

  him for the information. Then, after retrieving her ski

  pole from the ski rack where the patroller had hung it,

  she joined Bess, George, and Dexter, who were taking

  off their skis by the base lodge.

  After Bess explained that the mountaintop lodge had

  closed when they got there, Dexter threw Nancy a

  questioning look and said, “Boy, were you in a hurry,

  Nancy—and you went down Twister, too, with one

  pole! Was it something I said?”

  Nancy laughed. “Sorry to run off like that, Dexter. I,

  uh . . . thought I saw someone I knew.”

  That evening, after privately telling the Marshalls

  about their day, Nancy, George, and Bess sat down to a

  hearty buffet-style spaghetti-and-meatballs dinner at

  Elk River Ranch. Once they, Paul, Dody, Dexter, and

  the Marshalls were all seated, Nancy asked Dody how

  he knew Bill Ehret.

  “Oh, Bill and I go way back,” Dody said, helping

  himself to some salad. “We were foreign correspon-

  dents in the Soviet Union during the cold war, and also

  in Vietnam. He's exactly like me—enjoys living life on

  the edge. Some people think he's a crotchety old

  geezer, but they just don't know him.”

  “Well, he can be crotchety,” Alice put in.

  “He's just a real straight shooter,” Dody explained.

  “He's not afraid to tell it like it is. I admire his

  gutsiness. He'd fight to the finish for his beliefs.”

  “With all due respect, Dody,” Paul said, scowling, “I

  think you're dead wrong. Bill Ehret is an awful man.

  He's obsessed with keeping wild wolves out of

  Wyoming. If he saw one he'd shoot it without thinking

  twice, even though he knows it's illegal.”

  Dody speared a lettuce leaf with gusto, then said, “I

  understand where you're coming from, Paul, but Bill's

  just superindependent. He's not going to let himself be

  pushed around by anybody. That's both his strength

  and his weakness.”

  After they'd all finished, John suggested adjourning

  to the living room for coffee and dessert. Taking her

  cappuccino cup to a chair by the fire, Nancy challenged

  George to a game of chess.

  “You're on, Nan,” George said excitedly, setting

  down a plate of cookies on a nearby table while she

  helped Nancy set up the board. “Hey, what's that?”

  Nancy looked up to see George pointing at the elk's

  head above the fireplace. A piece of folded white paper

  was impaled on its right antler.

  “It looks like it might be a note,” Nancy said.

  Everyone gathered around Nancy as she moved a

  side chair directly under the elk's nose.

  “Be careful, Nancy,” Alice warned. “That chair looks

  a bit wobbly. I wouldn't want you falling into the fire.”

  “After skiing down Twister today, Nancy can defi-

  nitely manage a chair,” Dody said pleasantly.

  Nancy assured Alice she'd be fine, then reached for

  the paper. Moments later she was back on the floor,

  opening it up.

  “ Hear ye, hear ye!' ” she read. “Ban wild wolves

  from Wyoming if you ever want to see your tame one

  again!' ”

  11. On the Brink of Disaster

  “Let me see that!” John thundered, taking the note

  from Nancy. After reading it, his gray eyes flashed with

  anger. “This is beyond belief. Someone must have

  taken Rainbow to make us vote against allowing wolves

  into Wyoming.”

  “That's so horrible!” Jenny exclaimed. “This person

  took an innocent mother wolf and her puppies just to

  win a political issue?”

  “But how much power do these guys have?” Nancy

  asked. “I mean, could someone really get the govern-

  ment to change its mind and ban them?”

  “I doubt it,” Paul said, “though some ranchers are

  suing to make reintroduction illegal. Anyway, Nancy,

  this note is probably directed at me. Alice, John, and

  Jenny haven't been involved with the wild wolf

  controversy at all. They're completely neutral. I'm the

  one who's been pushing to bring wild wolves back to

  Wyoming.”

  “So you think that this person is trying to manipulate

  you into changing your mind about relocating wolves

  here?” Nancy asked Paul.

  “Seems that way,” Paul answered. “See, after the

  government decided to relocate the wolves, I'd go to

  town meetings to try to get people to accept the idea of

  wild wolves living in the western states. I wrote a lot of

  letters supporting this program, and this thief must

  think my opinion carries weight with people in charge.

  But the only thing I could really do to affect anything

  would be to support the ranchers' lawsuit against the

  program.”

  “If you ask me, the creepiest thing about the note is

  that the person sneaked in here with it this afternoon,”

  Jenny said. She gave a little shiver. “I mean, I don't

  remember seeing it at lunch. Mom, Dad, and I must

  have been alone in the house when the person came.”

  Nancy had a sudden urge to talk to George and Bess

  privately about the case. “I'm tired,” she said, throwing

  them a meaningful look. “I'm going upstairs.”

  “Me, too,” Bess and George said in unison. After

  thanking the Marshalls for dinner, the three girls met

  in Nancy and George's room.

  “So what do you think so far, guys?” Nancy asked. “I

  didn't have a chance to tell you this earlier because

  Dexter was with us, but Paul had actually been up

  there on my list of suspects.”

  “Really? Why?” Bess asked, eager to know.

  Nancy told Bess and George about finding Paul's

  letter to his professor, as well as his stun gun and darts.

  She also mentioned that Paul had been out in the

  blizzard when Rainbow had vanished. “He claimed

  he'd been working on the wolf exhibits, but who knows

  what he'd really been doing,” she finished.

  Sitting on the edge of Nancy's bed, Bess cupped her

  chin on her hand and said, “You said Paul had' been

  up there on your suspect list. Does that mean he's off

  the hook now?”

  “Well, the note makes me a lot less suspicious of

  Paul,” Nancy said. “I mean, since he's always talking

  about bringing more wolves to Wyoming, why would

  he hold Rainbow hostage to make the opposite thing

  come true? He'd be giving his enemies a way by get-

  ting rid of wild wolves. That doesn't make any sense.”

  “Here's what else doesn't make sense about Paul,”

  Bess said. “He knows how much Jenny cares about

  Rainbow, so why would he give his own fiancée all this

  grief by stealing her pet wolf?”

  “He wouldn't—unless he was a total creep,” Nancy

  said.

  George eyed Nancy thoughtfully “I just don't think

  he did it. I
mean, his letter may have hinted that he

  could have set Rainbow free because he doesn't believe

  in taming wild animals. But an animal lover like Paul

  would know that freeing a tame wolf in the middle of

  winter with her five newborn puppies would be much

  crueler than keeping them as pets.”

  “If Paul was really at a town meeting today while the

  puppies were stolen, he's probably not guilty,” Nancy

  said. “I'll call the town supervisor tomorrow to find out

  if he was there.”

  “Now, what about Rusty?” George said, slipping out

  of her clogs and sitting cross-legged on her bed. “He's

  definitely a weirdo, but is he organized enough to

  sneak in here and kidnap the wolves?”

  “I think he's guilty,” Bess said firmly. “He seemed

  totally thrilled to get that Swiss army knife back, and he

  was a pretty good actor about not letting on that it was

  his.”

  “You know who my number one suspect is now,

  guys?” Nancy said. “Mr. Ehret.”

  “Mr. Ehret!” Bess exclaimed. “Why?”

  “A couple of reasons,” Nancy replied. “First, he was

  hanging out at the top of the chairlift when we got

  there, and he gave me this really mean look— maybe

  because he was mad that his plan didn't work.”

  “Plan?” Bess echoed.

  “I think he wanted to strand us on the lift,” Nancy

  explained. “He could have used a cell phone to call the

  lift operator to say that the people before us were the

  last ones up. Then he could have cut his phone line so

  the guy at the bottom couldn't give out the right

  information.”

  Nancy paused while she rummaged through her

  drawer for a nightgown. After slipping it on, she added,

  “But the main reason I suspect Mr. Ehret is the note

  we just got.”

  “Why?” George asked. “Because he's a rancher, and

  ranchers are known for not wanting wolves around?”

  Nancy nodded. “Just think—Mr. Ehret is a rancher

  who's totally against relocating wolves to Wyoming.

  Maybe he took Rainbow and her puppies to get Paul

  on his side. I mean, Paul has a high profile about help-

  ing endangered wolves, and his opinion might have

  some influence, especially if he joined the ranchers'

  lawsuit. I think we should investigate Thunderbird

  Ranch—Mr. Ehret's place—tomorrow.”

  “Okay by me,” George said, stifling a yawn. “I don't

  know about you guys, but I could use some sleep.

 

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