105 Stolen Affections

by Carolyn Keene

  "Glad to be of help," Colonel Fingal replied. "Come on Minnie, Mickey. We'll be moving on now, that is, unless you need me, Edwin."

  "No, I can handle this," Wright said. "Fll get a ladder from the garage."

  A breeze had come up, and Nancy stood on the balcony shivering, trying to think of how she was going to explain her presence on Wright's property. Keeping one eye on the men as they walked toward the garage, she searched for an opening in the drapery that hung on the other side of the sliding glass door leading to the balcony, hoping for a glimpse into Jeremy's room.

  Suddenly, Nancy heard the dogs start to bark again. Nancy jumped back from the window and peered into the night to see what was happening.

  "There's another one!" she heard Colonel Fingal yell. "It's your night for visitors, Edwin!"

  Nancy watched as the two men and the dogs took off after a figure racing from the back of the house, down the driveway, and toward the road. The figure looked strangely familiar. Nancy leaned against the balcony and smiled ruefully, shaking her head. At least she wouldn't be making up her excuses alone. George would be right there with her.

  "Stop where you are or I'll unleash the dogs!" the colonel yelled, the ferocious barking backing him up.

  George stopped running and turned to face the men. There was some conversation that Nancy couldn't hear, and then Wright turned around and headed for the garage. He came out carrying a ladder. Within minutes, Nancy was standing on the ground, facing Wright, Fingal, and George.

  "May I ask what this is all about?" Wright demanded of the two girls.

  "May we go inside and talk?" Nancy asked.

  "No, we may not!" he snapped. "We'll talk right out here." He looked over at the colonel, who was hovering nearby, obviously interested in what was coming next.

  Wright cleared his throat. "Thanks for your help. Colonel," he said. "I'll take it from here."

  "I don't mind staying if you need me, Edwin. Or if you want me to call the authorities," the other man said.

  "Thank you," Wright said, "but I'm fine. I know this pair."

  Wright waited until his neighbor and the dogs were out of earshot and then turned to Nancy and George. "I am outraged that you would violate my privacy like this!" he said to Nancy. "How dare you come on my property! I want an explanation."

  Nancy looked down at the ground before she started to speak, refusing to be intimidated by his courtroom theatrics. Stay cool, Drew, she said to herself, or you won't find out anything. "You're right," she said, looking up. "I apologize. I—we had no right to come here without your permission, but we had a good reason."

  "And what might that be?" Wright asked, folding his arms across his chest.

  "We were worried about Jeremy," Nancy replied. "Kamla—Ms. Chadi, his teacher—was worried, too."

  "Ms. Chadi is a meddlesome busybody who is filling my grandson's head with lies about me. If I had my way, she'd be sent back to Pakistan or Burma or wherever it is she came from!"

  Nancy's eyes flashed. "It's India," she snapped. "Kamla Chadi is my friend, and she would never try to influence Jeremy's relationship with you. She has too much integrity. She is very professional!"

  "She's not too professional to cozy up to that ex-daughter-in-law of mine!"

  "They were friends before Kamla ever came to River Heights," Nancy said. She could feel her temper surging, and she fought for control. "We're not here to discuss Jeremy's teacher and mother," Nancy continued in a calmer tone. "We're here because of Jeremy. We're worried about him. Doubly so, in fact, because you won't let us see him."

  "I told you, Jeremy has strep throat. He has a high fever and he's in bed."

  "His friend Darcy Adams thinks he's not even in the house."

  "How would an eight-year-old know about that?" Edwin Wright asked.

  "Well, they apparently communicate from the tree house by walkie-talkie."

  Edwin Wright clenched his fists in exasperation and glared at her. "Ms. Drew," he said. "You are going to tell me that the person who talked to Darcy this afternoon didn't know the password. Right?"

  "Well, yes . . ."

  Edwin Wright spoke very deliberately, very softly, and accented each word.

  "That's because I was the person who talked to her, and I don't know the password. I don't care to know the password. I was trying, in a nice way, to get her to stop calling on that noisy contraption. Jeremy was sleeping. I finally took his set and locked it in my study."

  "But, Mr. Wright," Nancy said firmly, "there are other reasons we are concerned about Jeremy," she continued. "Yesterday at school, he talked about being kidnapped, and . . ."

  Edwin Wright looked furious. "And the day before that he told the gardener that he and Darcy were captured by aliens and taken off to some other galaxy," he said, his voice rising. "And last week he was in a time tunnel going back to the Civil War and he was fighting at Shiloh." His voice dropped to a normal level. "Ms. Drew, you are trying my patience. If I did not have a professional tie with your father, I would call the police immediately and press charges against you and your friend." He looked disapprovingly at George, who stared back at him.

  "There's something else," George said. "You said that Dr. McColl had said Jeremy could have no visitors."

  "That's correct," Wright replied.

  "But Dr. McColl has been abroad on a medical mission for the past four weeks. And he won't be back to his practice till next week."

  Edwin Wright took this information in stride. Nancy could understand why he was known as an unflappable defense attorney.

  "Ms. Frame—"

  "Fayne," George corrected him.

  "Ms, Fayne, I personally did not take Jeremy to the pediatrician today. I was in court all day. My housekeeper, Mrs. Henry, took my grandson to the doctor. My grandson's doctor is Dr. McColl. If Dr. McColl is not in his office, he makes arrangements to have another pediatrician see his patients. If, as you say, Dr. McColl is abroad, I am sure that Jeremy was seen by another doctor." Edwin Wright was speaking slowly and carefully, as if to a not-too-bright child. "He was diagnosed as having strep throat, which is contagious. And he was told no visitors. Those are the instructions my housekeeper relayed to me when I got home. I have no reason to doubt her. Now, if you ladies don't mind, I will escort you to your car and see you off my property. And I would ask that you not return."

  George had parked Nancy's Mustang at the side of the road in front of the house, and the girls drove off quickly.

  "What an insufferable sleaze," Nancy sputtered. "Imagine him talking about Kamla that way. No wonder she doesn't like him!"

  "He's a real prize," George said, raking her fingers through her short-cropped hair in exasperation. "And he's good on the comeback. He had an answer for everything you brought up. That stuff about the doctor and all. Do you believe him?"

  "Not for a minute! His answers were all very plausible," Nancy replied, "but the man's whole career has been centered around verbally defending other people, so I'm not surprised that he could make a good case for himself. He's very clever." She looked at George and grinned. "What were you doing at the back of the house?"

  "Well, I started out looking for you, not expecting to find you on an upstairs balcony," George said dryly. "Then I decided I'd look around for an unshuttered window to see if I could get a glimpse of Jeremy—which also didn't work. And then I was going to see if a back door or a basement door was open so I could get inside the house, but when those ferocious beasts showed up, I sort of changed my plan."

  Nancy laughed at the understatement.

  "There is one thing I did notice," George said. "There's a trash can out behind the house. Nor-

  mally, I don't investigate other people's garbage. But sticking out of the top of the can was that huge card from Jeremy's classmates—the one we delivered this afternoon." She paused, then looked hard at Nancy. "Nan, I agree with Kamla," she said anxiously. "I don't think Jeremy's in that house!"

  Chapter Five

  "TH
AT MAKES TWO OF US," Nancy replied slowly. "You see, while Colonel Fingal was reporting my attempted break-in to Edwin Wright, I noticed that the drape on the sliding glass door leading to the balcony was caught on a chair or something in the room. I only had a second, but I managed to see the bed. It was empty and looked as if it hadn't even been slept in."

  "So we were right!" George said.

  Nancy nodded. "I'd stake my life on it."

  "You sound as sure as Kamla," George said. "She hadn't cooled down when I dropped her off. In fact, she was debating whether to call Wright and accuse him of kidnapping or call the police with the same message. Maybe both."

  Nancy sighed. "I hope she didn't call Wright," she said. "He'd slap a suit against her so fast that she wouldn't know what hit her."

  "That's what I told her," George said, "but she wasn't paying much attention. I suggested she take a hot bath and relax, and I promised her we'd call her with an update."

  Nancy nodded. "We'll do that," she agreed, "but not until we've talked to the police."

  "Is Sam working tonight?" George asked.

  "I don't know his schedule. I haven't seen him since we worked on that last case together."

  "That was a month ago," George said.

  "I know, but Sam is really attractive—maybe too attractive. And I can't just forget about Ned." Ned Nickerson was Nancy's longtime boyfriend, who was away at college.

  "Still, it's fun to work on a case with a cute young cop," George said, looking over at her.

  Nancy laughed. "You are so right."

  Sam Fanelli had been on the River Heights force only a few months, and he and Nancy had worked closely together to solve a case of harassment and attempted murder. A smile flickered at the comers of Nancy's mouth as she thought about Sam's shy grin, his deep bass voice, and his wonderful sense of humor. She felt herself blush, remembering one special afternoon when Sam had wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her tight as he gently kissed her.

  Nancy wheeled into the parking lot beside the police station. Her heart beat a little faster when

  she noticed Sam's familiar beat-up compact car parked in one of the slots. He was working that night. You're here on business, Drew, she told herself. You're acting like some lovesick seventh grader. Besides, she thought as guilt washed over her, you have a perfectly wonderful steady, loyal, loving boyfriend in Ned. But then Nancy's mind drifted to the pretty blond Ned had introduced to her after his chemistry class one day when she was visiting the Emerson College campus. His lab partner. Erika something-or-other. And it occurred to Nancy that she hadn't heard from Ned in over two weeks.

  "Are we waiting for sunrise?" George asked.

  Nancy rolled her eyes. "Just thinking," she said, swinging the car door open. "Let's go in."

  When Nancy and George entered the building, they saw a woman officer on duty at the front desk and approached her.

  "My name's Nancy Drew. I'd like to talk with Detective Fanelli, if he's available."

  "I'll buzz him," the officer said. She picked up the phone and punched in a number, then spoke quietly into the receiver. When she hung up, she turned to Nancy. "You can go on back. It's the third door on the left."

  Nancy and George hurried down the hall. But before they reached his office, Sam came into the hallway to greet them.

  "Nancy Drew! Best partner I ever had!" he quipped, giving her a bear hug.

  Nancy blushed. "Well," she said, "you haven't had that many partners!"

  "Sure. Not many, but not one of them as talented or as pretty as you."

  George cleared her throat loudly, and Nancy wriggled free.

  "Sam," she said, "I want you to meet my good friend George Fayne."

  "It's my pleasure," Sam said, extending his hand. "What brings you two down here tonight?"

  "Can we talk privately?" Nancy asked.

  Sam's eyes twinkled, "How privately?" he asked. Before she could answer, he motioned them through a doorway. "My office is a tight fit. We'll be more comfortable in the conference room." The small room had a rectangular table and six chairs, and Nancy and George seated themselves side by side, across from Sam.

  "What's up?" he asked. "You look serious."

  "I am serious," Nancy said. "I want to report a missing child. His name is Jeremy Wright."

  Quickly, Nancy recapped the events of the last two days, starting with Jeremy's announcement in the classroom that he was going to be kidnapped, and ending with her unauthorized visit to Edwin Wright's estate and getting trapped on the balcony.

  "Sam," she said, looking into his sympathetic brown eyes, "I just know that Jeremy Wright is missing. And I think his grandfather is responsible. He's a rude, despicable man, and he seems to hate anybody who gets at all close to Jeremy." As she spoke, Nancy's voice trembled with emotion.

  Sam stared at her for a long minute, then he spoke.

  "What's your involvement with this, Nan?" he asked bluntly. He shoved his chair back and stood up. His forehead furrowed, and he pushed his hair back from his face.

  Nancy looked down at the table, realizing that she had sounded extreme in her condemnation of Edwin Wright.

  "Well, Jeremy's teacher is a friend of mine," she said. "That's how I happened to be at the school the day he talked about being kidnapped."

  Sam grunted. "Stay here," he said. "Fli be back in a few minutes." He left the room and closed the door firmly behind him.

  "That was a quick switch," George commented. "He can look downright mean when he puts on his police officer's face. From moonliglit and roses to professional cop without skipping a beat."

  Nancy nodded. "I guess I got a little wound up about Edwin Wright. But I don't like that man, and I do think he has something to do with Jeremy's disappearance."

  "I'm not sure Sam agrees with you," George said. "He didn't look too thrilled with your monologue." An impish grin crossed her face.

  "He's cute though, even when he's grumpy! You have good taste in the looks department. However, my decision on his disposition is still under consideration."

  "Oh, George," Nancy said, "I've told you that we're just friends. We only went out a couple of times, and we were working on that case."

  "All in the line of duty, right? That greeting he gave you in the hall was a couple of notches up from friendly." George shrugged. "Or maybe that's his version of friendly. How would I know?"

  "George, stop it!" Nancy said emphatically. "There's nothing like that between us. We're friends, that's all. Or we were. I'm not sure we still are, from the reaction I got when I started talking about Edwin Wright."

  "That did seem to push a button or two. He—" George's comment was interrupted by the door opening.

  Sam entered the room and stood at the end of the table. He had a manila file in his hand and a stem look on his face. "I've just talked to the captain," he said. "I wouldn't be able to give you this information without his approval, but because you've worked with the department in the past, Nancy, I have permission to tell you a little bit of what we know on this case."

  "Case?" Nancy said, looking wide-eyed at George.

  Sam nodded. "You're right about the boy being missing," he said. "However, in my opinion, you're wrong about his grandfather."

  George arched an eyebrow, and Nancy could tell she was resisting the urge to comment.

  Sam continued. "What I'm going to tell you is to be kept in strictest confidence. The life of Jeremy Wright could be endangered if this information is leaked."

  "You know I wouldn't say anything," Nancy said, "and neither would George. Of course we'll keep it confidential. But what is it?"

  "In a nutshell," Sam said, "Edwin Wright came to the station this afternoon and reported that his grandson, Jeremy, was missing."

  George and Nancy exchanged surprised looks.

  "Wright had been warned not to contact the police and not to talk to anyone about Jeremy, or the boy would be killed. So I don't think Edwin Wright is the hateful grandfather you are making him
out to be. He seemed to be a very concerned man. Do you realize how much courage it took to come here and tell us? When people try to handle kidnap cases on their own—and without police help—the case almost always ends tragically."

  Nancy stared up at Sam, surprised. "It's hard to believe—" she said, but Sam cut her off.

  "So now you know why Edwin Wright was so discourteous to you two and your teacher friend

  when you took the card over, and you know why he was so upset when you ended up on his balcony. He was afraid that you would go off looking for Jeremy, and the kidnappers would get wind of it.

  "Another call came in just a little while ago," Sam continued. "It may or may not have been related. The caller threatened to get even with Wright if he persisted in bad-mouthing his former daughter-in-law. As I see it, the family dynamics are not good. In fact, this whole mess may hinge on who has custody of the boy. Particularly with his mother's high profile and financial position, we can't let this get to the press, or we'll have half a dozen copycat callers, all wanting ransom money." Sam hesitated, and then his voice dropped. "I just hope we can get the boy back alive," he said huskily.

  Nancy felt a sudden ache in her stomach as his tone changed, and she raised her eyes to meet Sam's. He's doing his job like a good cop, she thought, but with so much compassion, too. Sam's soft brown eyes stared back at Nancy, unblinking, and she resisted a powerful urge to reach out to him.

  "Any suspects?" George asked, breaking the spell.

  "Yes," Sam replied briskly. "We have two men out right now talking to a possible suspect—a friend of the mother, actually. It is possible that the mother is involved, you know. Custody wars can be messy."

  "Have you notified the parents that Jeremy is missing?" asked Nancy.

  "We're trying, Nancy," Sam answered. "We haven't had any luck reaching either one yet. They're in faraway places with no phones nearby."

  Nancy's mind raced back to her conversation with Darcy about the TV repairman named Arnie. Should she tell Sam about it? No, not yet, she decided. She didn't even know the man's last name.