An Instict for Trouble

by Carolyn Keene

  FROM THE NANCY DREW FILES

  THE CASE: Nancy investigates a pattern of sabotage and poaching on an animal research project.

  CONTACT: While Ned trails the yellow-bellied mar-

  mot, Nancy tracks a criminal conspiracy.

  SUSPECTS: Professor Dan Trainey-His project is running out of money, but with the marmots worth $500 each, he may have discovered a way to keep it going.

  Jack Billings-The park ranger is Mr. Charm, but while he’s flirting with Nancy, she may be flirting with danger.

  Gerald and Edith Turkower-They claim to be tourists, but Nancy has uncovered evidence that they’re concealing their true identities.

  COMPLICATIONS: One of Nancy’s top suspects is Professor Trainey. But Ned seems to care more about him-and his pretty daughter-than he does about Nancy and the truth.

  The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for the sale of this “stripped book.”

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK Original An Instinct for Trouble

  An Archway Paperback published by POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc.

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  Copyright Š 1994 by Simon & Schuster Inc.

  Produced by Mega-Books of New York, Inc.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  ISBN: 0-671-79487-6

  First Archway Paperback printing May 1994

  10 98765432

  NANCY DREW, AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster Inc.

  THE NANCY DREW FILES is a trademark of Simon & Schuster Inc.

  Cover art by Cliff Miller

  Printed in the U.S.A.

  The Nancy Drew Files

  Case 95

  An Instinct for Trouble

  by Carolyn Keene

  Chapter One

  Nancy!” Bess Marvin exclaimed. “Listen -that’s Randy Dean’s new song, ‘Lonely Wil-

  derness.’ ” She leaned forward and turned up the volume on the car radio, then rolled down her window.

  And the trees sway against the blue, blue sky.

  But there’s danger lurking nearby.

  Yes, danger nearby.

  “It’s like it was meant for us,” Bess said when the song ended. “I mean, here we are, with the trees swaying against the blue sky.”

  Nancy Drew brushed a lock of shoulder-

  length, reddish blond hair off her face. “Let’s hope there’s no danger lurking nearby.”

  “These mountains and forest are gorgeous,”

  Bess said. “And Yellowstone is supposed to be even better-one of the most beautiful places on earth.”

  It was a cool, crisp Wednesday in early May.

  That morning Nancy and Bess had flown from their hometown of River Heights to Jack-

  son, Wyoming, where they had rented a car for the drive north to Yellowstone National Park.

  “George would love this,” Nancy com-

  mented as they passed a grove of aspen trees.

  “Too bad she couldn’t come.” George Fayne, Bess’s cousin, had been forced to pass up the trip because of a long-planned visit to friends in Boston.

  “Bet you can’t wait to see Ned,” Bess said.

  Nancy smiled broadly. Her boyfriend was one of a small group of Emerson College students who had been camping in Yellow-

  stone for three weeks, studying the habits of the yellow-bellied marmot, a small, furry mammal common in the park. “I do miss him.

  I just wish it hadn’t taken an emergency to get us together.”

  “Who was it who got hurt again?” Bess asked.

  “A graduate student named Brad Keeler,”

  Nancy replied. “He was badly burned when a propane stove exploded the night before last, and Ned doesn’t think it was an accident.”

  “Because all those marmot traps were sto-

  len, right?” Bess said.

  “Right. Over the last couple of weeks about four dozen traps have disappeared. It hap-

  pened gradually, and no one realized they were missing because they were stored in several different places,” Nancy explained. “But Brad finally noticed and was starting to look into it before that stove blew up in his face.”

  “How awful!” Bess exclaimed. “What was the study group doing with the traps, any-

  way?”

  “They used them to catch the marmots last fall so they could attach transmitters to the animals,” Nancy said. “That’s how the Emer-

  son people keep track of the marmots’ move-

  ments.”

  “Neat,” Bess said. “But why would anyone want the traps?”

  “Ned thinks someone is planning to trap marmots with them and smuggle them out of the park, which is totally illegal,” Nancy an-

  swered.

  “But he doesn’t have any proof, so he called you, since you happen to be not only the love of his life but also an incredible detective,”

  “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m really worried about this case. This phase of the Emerson study ends on Saturday. Ned says that if any marmots vanish between now and then, the study could be blamed. The third phase of the project scheduled for this summer would be canceled, and all the college’s work would go down the drain.” Nancy sighed.

  “Ned’s really upset.”

  “You don’t think that someone from the Emerson group could be involved, do you?”

  “I’d hate to think it. But we’ve got to check,”

  Nancy said solemnly as they passed a sign that said South Entrance, Yellowstone National Park.

  Tall, slender lodgepole pines lined the road on either side, their tangy scent filling the car.

  The trees were so thick in some places that it was like driving through a tunnel.

  “I can’t wait to see the yellow-bellied mar-

  mots,” Bess said.

  Nancy grinned. “Ned said they look like chubby, overgrown chipmunks, only with yel-

  low undersides, which is how they got their name. But most people call them whistling marmots, because they communicate by mak-

  ing high-pitched sounds.”

  “They sound cute-” Bess began but stopped abruptly.

  A herd of brown elk appeared from among the trees on the right.

  Nancy stepped on the brake.

  Paying no attention to the car, the elk began prancing gracefully across the road.

  “Oh, Nancy, look at the babies!” Bess cried.

  Nancy chuckled as a handful of little elk wobbled awkwardly in front of the herd.

  The herd stopped in a meadow on the left side of the highway. Near the center of the sparse grass where the creatures were grazing, Nancy noticed a cone of gray rock about a foot high. From its center, wisps of white steam curled into the air.

  “It’s a geyser!” Nancy exclaimed.

  Bess’s jaw dropped.

  “The whole park is covered with them,”

  Nancy said as she started driving again.

  “Which is why Yellowstone is so special.”

  “I read the guidebook, too,” Bess said teas-

  ingly. “The geysers are remnants of volcanoes th
at erupted around here millions of years ago.

  But I still can’t believe it.”

  “Just wait until you see Old Faithful. It erupts about every hour and a half. And it will be right outside our window at the hotel,”

  Nancy said.

  “That’s why I wanted to stay there,” Bess replied.

  Nancy shook her head and laughed at her friend. “You just didn’t want to camp out, even though it would be better if we were closer to the study group.”

  “Oh, Nan, I can’t!” she moaned. “I hate bugs, but even worse I hate sleeping on the cold, bumpy ground.”

  “Okay, okay,” Nancy said. “You convinced me. But you may be passing up the chance to get close to a cute Emerson guy,” she warned her friend.

  Nancy stepped on the brake at an intersec-

  tion. A sign pointed right to the Grand Loop Road and left to the inn and visitors center.

  Before she could turn, a tour bus passed in front other. She followed it in the direction of the inn.

  “It seems a bit early in the season for tour buses,” Nancy said.

  “It’s probably better to get here before the main tourist season starts,” Bess replied. “Is Ned meeting us at the hotel?”

  “He said he’d try to. But the Emerson group is incredibly busy right now, gearing up for the end of this phase of the study,” Nancy ex-

  plained. “If he’s not there when we arrive, we’ll head over to the campsite after we check in.”

  The road grew steeper, and Nancy kept a safe distance between her white rental car and the bus in front. On the far side of the pass, the highway ran beside a gushing river.

  “That must be the hotel,” Bess said, point-

  ing to the left. “Have you ever seen anything like it in your life?”

  Nancy leaned forward and saw a building that was at least seven stories high with a slanted roof and rows of little dormer win-

  dows. Its walls were made of huge rough-cut logs stacked one on top of the other.

  “It looks like a giant birdhouse,” Nancy said delightedly as she turned onto the road that led to the inn and followed it to the front of the building. Then, remembering that Ned might be waiting for her inside, she hastily stopped the car, turned off the ignition, and jumped out.

  “Go on ahead. Nancy,” Bess urged with a knowing smile. “I’ll find someone to help me with the bags. Then I’ll park the car in the lot over there,” she said, pointing.

  Gratefully, Nancy tossed Bess the car keys, mounted the wooden stairs, and entered the lobby.

  The center of the building was an atrium that rose all the way to the roof. Along two sides were level after level of balconies. A huge fireplace of gigantic lava stones dominated the big space. Half a dozen guests sat near the fire in old-fashioned rocking chairs. Another row of rockers faced tall windows overlooking sev-

  eral geysers. A few people were seated there, enjoying the view. But no Ned. Nancy choked back her disappointment.

  Just then she saw Bess enter the lobby, followed by a bellhop pulling a trolley with Bess’s two suitcases and Nancy’s small carry-

  on bag.

  “Where’s Ned?” she asked when Nancy reached her side.

  Nancy shook her head. “At the campsite, I guess. I’d like to drive over and take a look.”

  “Okay, go ahead,” Bess said, handing the car keys back to her friend. “I’ll check us in and start unpacking.”

  Nancy walked to the parking lot briskly. The sun shone brightly, but the air was chilly. She spotted the car, dashed over, and got in. After glancing at the map Ned had faxed her, she started the engine and headed north for about fifteen miles.

  At Madison Junction, where there was a ranger station, general store, and campground, she turned right. She watched carefully until she spotted a dirt road leading off to the left, then bumped along it for about a quarter of a mile to the campsite.

  The Emerson College research group was camping at the foot of a hill in a clearing partly ringed by lodgepole pines. Nancy parked next to a Jeep and walked quickly up the path toward the little cluster of woodland green tents. When she reached the fire pit at its center, she found the campsite deserted.

  Several logs had been pulled around the fire pit to serve as benches. Not far away was the kitchen tent, with sides made of mosquito netting and tables lined with pots, pans, and food.

  A narrow trail snaked along the edge of the camp and then continued up the hill. Near the foot of the hill, and about a hundred yards from the campsite, was a very small, wooden cabin. Nancy went over to inspect it.

  There was a heavy padlock on the door and only one tiny window, through which she could see a generator and computer. Next to the door, on the outside of the cabin, was a makeshift bulletin board. Nancy studied the work assignment chart posted there. It was divided into categories such as Computer Data Collection, Transmitter Checking, and Observation-Feeding Stations 1 through 4.

  Nancy saw that Ned was assigned to watch feeding station 3 from two-thirty to five that afternoon. Where was he now, though? she wondered. It was just about two.

  She strolled back toward the tents. The canvas flap that served as a door on the nearest one was tied back. She glanced inside and saw a camera bag that reminded her of Ned’s, then started to raise the mosquito netting and go inside.

  “Stop right there!” she heard someone shout behind her.

  Nancy spun around and saw two men in dark green coveralls running toward her. The taller one, who had piercing black eyes and black stubble for a beard, reached her first.

  He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her away from the tent.

  “Hey,” Nancy protested, struggling to free herself from his grip. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

  Just then the second man reached her. He was built like a short redwood and had the ruddy complexion of someone who spent a lot of time outdoors.

  “Yeah, sure,” the tall man said, twisting Nancy’s arm behind her.

  Nancy had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.

  “Looks like we caught ourselves a thief,”

  the short, burly guy said, taking a step toward her. An ugly grin contorted his face. “And we know just what to do with her. Right, Rich-

  ard?”

  “Right,” his buddy replied.

  Chapter Two

  Come on, you,” Richard growled. He wheeled Nancy around and started pulling her toward the fire pit.

  “Get your hands off me!” Nancy said, furi-

  ous.

  “Not a chance,” he replied, tightening his grip. “Should we take her to the truck. Piker?”

  “Yeah,” the other man replied, giving Nancy a shove.

  Nancy swung her leg out and brought it up, slamming her knee into Richard’s stomach.

  He bent over, giving her the chance to pull away. She was just taking off when she heard a familiar voice call her name.

  She whirled around to see Ned hurrying down the path toward her. “Am I ever glad to see you!” she said with relief.

  Ned glanced at the two grim-faced men and put his arm around Nancy. “What’s going on here?”

  “These guys accused me of being a thief,”

  Nancy told him.

  “What?” Ned was incredulous. “This is my girlfriend.”

  Richard shrugged. “If you say so, but she was nosing around camp. Right, Piker?”

  “Right,” Piker said. “We were just looking out for your group,” he told Ned. “We heard there’d been some trouble around here.”

  “Well, thanks,” Ned replied. “But like I said. Nancy’s my girlfriend.”

  Nancy watched Piker nervously shift his weight. At last he nodded and said, “Well, okay. Let’s get back to work, Richard.” With that, the two men headed off.

  “That’s quite a welcoming committee,”

  Nancy said.

  Before she could say anything else, Ned swept her into his arms. “Hello there,” he said as he lifted her chi
n with two fingers. The kiss that followed left her breathless. “How’s that for a welcome?”

  “Mmm, much better.” Nancy sighed and took in his handsome, square-jawed face and sparkling brown eyes.

  Ned led Nancy to one of the logs near the fire pit, and the two of them sat down.

  “Who were those guys, anyway?” she asked.

  “Park maintenance men,” Ned replied.

  “They’re building a walkway near here. It goes to an old cabin near Princess Geyser. What made them think you were a thief?”

  “Well,” Nancy said, “I was peeking inside a tent, wondering if it was yours, when they grabbed me. I guess I did look a little suspi-

  cious.”

  “Even so,” Ned growled, “they had no right to treat you badly.” He took her hand. “Listen, Nan, I’m really sorry I couldn’t meet you at the hotel. The fact is, we have a major crisis.

  You know, we’ve tagged hundreds of marmots so we can track them. Well, part of my job is to make sure the receiver is picking up their signals and sending them to the computer so they’re recorded properly.”

  Nancy nodded.

  “This morning,” he said slowly, “the com-

  puter printout showed no trace of almost fifty whistling marmots. At first, I thought we had a problem with the receiver or with the comput-

  er, but everything checked out okay. We went out to check the marmot colonies a few hours ago, and it was obvious that some were miss-

  ing. There’s only one logical explanation. Some-

  one is stealing them!”

  “That’s terrible,” Nancy said. “Do you have any idea when it could have happened?”

  “We observe the marmots twice a day at four feeding stations,” he explained, pacing now.

  “So it had to have happened after the second observation yesterday-probably during the night.”

  Nancy shook her head. “It’s hard to believe that people would kill such cute little animals for their fur,” she said disgustedly.

  Ned stopped pacing. “It’s not the fur they want,” he replied. “They want the marmots for pets.”

  “That’s no excuse for taking them out of their natural habitat,” Nancy said. “Have you reported this to the park service?”