Nancy leaned inside and looked at the array of gauges on the dashboard. “Did you know you’re out of gas?”
Randy frowned. “That’s impossible. I filled the tank just an hour ago.”
Ned got down on the ground and shone the flashlight under the car. “You’ve got a leak in your fuel line,” he reported. “It must have happened when you hit that bump. All your gas has leaked out,” he said, getting up and slapping his palms against his jeans.
Ned offered to take Randy to the hotel. The rock star transferred his luggage from the tiny trunk of the sports car to the Jeep and climbed into the backseat next to it.
“I read a magazine article about you the other night,” Nancy said casually. “It mentioned that you collect whistling marmots.”
“I used to have quite a few of them,” Randy admitted. “They make fun pets. But I don’t collect them anymore.”
“Why not?” Nancy asked.
“I realized how wrong it is to take animals out of the wild,” he replied earnestly. “In fact, that’s why I’m here. I’m doing a TV program on the importance of protecting wild animals and their habitats. Would you guys like to come watch us film?”
“We’d love to,” Nancy promptly replied. “Do you think I could bring a friend, too? She’s a big fan of yours.”
Ned pulled into the hotel parking lot.
“Of course you can,” Randy said. “I’ll write a note to the production crew as soon as I get upstairs. Thanks for everything. I would have had to sit out there all night.”
“Glad we could help,” Ned replied. He gave Randy a hand carrying his luggage into the lobby while Nancy parked the Jeep.
The square dance was still going on as Nancy and Ned found a quiet spot and settled down on a couch on the far side of the big room.
“I keep thinking about that phone call,” Ned said. “You think the Turkowers are the buyers?”
“It seems that way.”
“What do you think they’re arranging for tomorrow night?” he asked.
“My hunch is that Trainey’s going to turn over the marmots he’s already captured to the Turkowers.”
Ned acted surprised. “You think the animals are still in the park?”
“Yes, I do,” Nancy said. “If they weren’t, why would the Turkowers be hanging around? And I’ll bet they’re being kept somewhere fairly close to the campsite, too.”
“So what’s our next move?”
“We have to keep our eyes on the Turkowers and Trainey—and I’m still interested in Piker and Richard. It could be that the professor hired them to do the rough work,” she speculated. “But the main thing is, it’s obvious that this whole case is centered at your camp. We can’t hope to solve it if I’m always somewhere else. I think it’s time Bess and I move to the campsite.”
“So you and Bess are going to camp.” Ned grinned. “I’d love to be there when you break the news to her.”
Nancy grimaced. “Do you have any idea what we can do about equipment? We’ll need a tent and sleeping bags at least.”
“There are outfitters in West Yellowstone and Jackson that sell camping gear. But why not ask Martin Robbins at the ranger station? I bet he could lend you what you need.”
“Good idea,” she said.
He put his arm around Nancy’s shoulders, and she settled back against him. “I’m glad you’re moving to the camp,” he continued softly. “Having you so near will be the only bright spot in this whole awful situation.”
• • •
“I can’t believe that you actually met Randy Dean!” Bess exclaimed. “That’s too awesome! What’s he like?”
Nancy yawned. The morning sun was streaming through the window. “Really nice, Bess. He acts like a regular guy. But you’ll have a chance to meet him,” Nancy said. “He’s staying right here in the hotel. And he invited us to come watch him making his TV special. I hope we can.”
“What do you mean, you hope we can?” Bess demanded. “Wild horses couldn’t stop me!”
Nancy smiled. “I don’t know about wild horses, but we are here on an investigation, remember.”
Bess stared at her, aghast, then immediately brightened. “Oh, we’ll solve it in plenty of time,” she proclaimed.
“Listen, Bess,” Nancy said as she ran a brush through her hair. “I think the missing marmots are being shipped out tonight.” She told her friend about the phone call. “I know you’re not going to like this,” she continued slowly, “but we need to move to the campsite to watch the situation more closely.”
“Oh, no!” Bess wailed. “Leave the hotel just when Randy Dean arrives? And move into a cold tent? I’ll die!”
“Oh, come on, where’s your sense of adventure?” Nancy asked lightly. “Besides, if I’m right that tonight is the night, it won’t be for long.”
“Well—okay,” Bess said gloomily. “I’ll do it, but don’t expect me to enjoy it.”
“After breakfast I’m going to head over to the ranger station to talk to Martin Robbins. Maybe he can assign some rangers to patrol the campsite tonight. Ned also thought he might have a tent and a couple of sleeping bags we can borrow,” Nancy said.
Bess dusted powder on her nose, then frowned at her image in the mirror. “What about me?” she asked.
“I want you to track down the Turkowers,” Nancy said. “See if you can find out what they’re up to today. I’ll pick you up here when I come back from seeing Robbins, and we can go out to the campsite together.”
As she walked toward her car, Nancy noticed a piece of paper tucked under the windshield wiper. It might be a circular of some sort, she thought, but she had a hunch it wasn’t. Distinctly uneasy, she unfolded the paper.
The message was short and to the point: “Mind your own business, Nancy Drew. Marmots aren’t the only things that can disappear!”
Chapter
Twelve
NANCY STARED at the note. It had been written in large, square letters with a red marker on a piece of computer paper. It resembled the paper they were using at the campsite, but she’d have to compare it to be sure. Still, with the key to the command post missing, that hardly narrowed things down.
She leaned against the side of the car and thought. The poachers were obviously desperate to get her off the case. They’d tried to put her out of commission twice the day before—and now this note. She’d planned to watch her main suspects closely, but it made her uneasy to think that they had their eyes on her, too.
Nancy put the threatening note in her pocket, got into the car, and started for the ranger station. As she drove, she found herself frequently checking the rearview mirror, but she didn’t see any sign that she was being followed.
When she entered Martin Robbins’s office, he was standing at the big wall map of Yellowstone with a sheaf of papers in his hand. He turned and said, “Hello, Nancy. What brings you here?”
“I wanted to fill you in on what’s been happening with the case,” she said, joining him at the map.
As she recited everything, beginning with the incident at the falls and ending with the conversation she’d overheard between Trainey and Gerald Turkower, Martin’s frown deepened. “You’ve been busy. And it looks like you’re making progress flushing these characters out.” He crossed his arms and said slowly, “But from what you say, you’ve haven’t got enough proof for me to move on.” He went behind his desk and sat down, then gestured toward a chair.
“I know that,” Nancy said, sitting down. “That’s why I’m moving to the Emerson campsite today. From what Trainey said on the phone, I think the missing marmots are going to be shipped out tonight, and I’m pretty sure they’re being kept someplace nearby,” she replied.
The ranger nodded. He remained silent for a moment, then hit the desk with his fist. “I feel as if my hands are tied on this. Without more proof, I can’t justify a full-scale search of the area around the camp, but I will beef up the patrol vehicles along that stretch of the highway tonight.”
Nancy smiled slightly. “That will help. And that reminds me—there’s something else you can do for me. I was wondering if you have some camping gear I could borrow. All my friend Bess and I really need is a tent and two sleeping bags.”
Robbins chuckled. “And a couple of air mattresses, too, believe me. Otherwise, you’ll be so sore after one night that you won’t be able to walk. Let me think. I know I have a couple of sleeping bags here, but I may have to call around to get you a tent. And anyway, I’m not sure it’s such a great idea. These people have already shown how ruthless they are.”
“I know that,” Nancy replied grimly. “That’s why I have to stop them now.”
Robbins rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Finally he said, “Well, all right, but on one condition—you call me the second anything starts to go down. I don’t want to take any chances.”
“I understand,” Nancy told him.
He made a call. “One of the rangers over at Tower Junction has a tent he can lend you. He’ll be passing by here in half an hour, so he’ll drop it off. Okay?”
“Great,” Nancy replied. “Thanks a lot. I guess I’ll go get Bess and drop her by the campsite, then come back.”
She started to get up, then sank back down in her seat. “There’s one more thing. You’ve got two park maintenance men named Richard and Piker. I saw them talking to the Turkowers. That’s just one of the things that makes me suspicious of them. How well do you know them?”
Martin leaned back in his chair and gazed toward the ceiling. “If you mean personally, I hardly know them at all,” he finally said. “As far as their work goes, no complaints about them.”
Nancy looked at Martin earnestly. “I know this is slightly irregular, but could I please see their personnel files?”
Martin frowned. “I’m sorry, Nancy. Those files are confidential.”
“Oh, of course, I understand,” Nancy replied. “I wouldn’t dream of asking you to do something that’s against the rules. But you have the right to consult their files, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” Martin said.
“And if you looked through them and noticed anything that might be important for me to know, it would be only natural to mention it, wouldn’t it?”
A slow smile spread across his lips. “That’s so,” he said, getting up and crossing to a bank of gray metal file cabinets. He scanned the labels on the drawers, then opened one near the bottom and pulled out two olive-colored hanging file folders. “Here we are,” he said. “Richard Geismar and Piker Slattery.”
He opened the first of the files and glanced through it. Next he looked at the second one. “That’s funny,” he said. “These two guys both grew up in Ashland, Idaho. That’s a little town about forty miles west of the park. They were born in the same year, too.”
He flipped back and forth between the two files. “Odd,” he continued. “Their job records are practically identical.”
“Would you mind if I check one or two of their references?” Nancy asked. “I’d need to use your phone.”
“I think that would be all right,” Martin said. He grabbed a scratch pad and scribbled a couple of names and addresses on it, then passed it over. “Here are the most recent references.”
Nancy dialed, but the first number Martin gave her was disconnected. She tried the next one.
“Hopper and Wade Construction,” a polite voice said. “May I help you?”
Nancy put on her most professional voice. “I hope so. I’m calling from the National Park Service in Yellowstone.” She gave Martin an apologetic look, but he just grinned. She turned her attention back to the phone, telling the woman that Richard and Piker were looking for jobs and had listed Hopper and Wade as a reference.
“Gee, I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize the names,” the woman said. “Just a minute, let me punch them into our computer.” Nancy held her breath as the woman put her on hold. Finally, she heard a click over the line. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have a record of anyone with either of those names. Are you sure you have the right company?”
“Yes,” Nancy replied. “Well, thanks very much.” She hung up. “Richard and Piker lied on their applications,” she told Martin.
“That’s enough to get them fired. It’s strange—we usually check references,” Martin said. “But it doesn’t prove that they’re poachers—only liars. Come on, I’ll get those sleeping bags and air mattresses for you.”
They loaded the gear into the trunk, then Martin said, “I’ll see you later,” and went back inside.
At the hotel Nancy found Bess sitting in the lobby, wearing a blue workshirt and well-cut blue denim overalls. “I’m all ready to go camping,” she announced. “At least, as ready as I’ll ever be.”
“What’s with the Turkowers?”
“The desk clerk told me they went off for a day-long hike through the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone,” Bess replied dutifully.
“I wonder if that’s where they really are,” Nancy said, then explained that she’d gotten mattresses and sleeping bags from Martin but had to go back for the tent. “I’ll drop you off at the campsite first,” she went on a little tensely. “I want you to keep track of the professor.”
Fifteen minutes later Nancy watched Bess trudge up the path to the campsite, two sleeping bags slung over her shoulder and a suitcase in her left hand.
Back at the ranger station, Nancy found a very grim Martin Robbins. “I checked out the other references those clowns gave,” he reported. “Every one of them a fake. They’re out of here first thing Monday morning whether you turn up anything against them or not. My next job will be to find out how they got through the hiring process in the first place. The system is supposed to prevent this kind of thing.”
• • •
“This place is deserted,” Bess told Nancy back at the campsite. “Everyone went off to the feeding stations to pack up.”
“What about Trainey?” Nancy asked.
“That’s the weird thing,” Bess replied. “I went up to the command post a while ago and noticed the professor riffling through a stack of photos. When he got to one of them, he got livid. I mean, his face turned bright red and he stalked off to his tent, then hopped into a Jeep and blew out of here.” She stared at her friend. “What do you think it means?”
“I have no idea,” Nancy replied.
“Jack acted strange, too,” Bess continued, frowning. “I asked him to help me feed Spike, but he brushed me off. I don’t understand it. Just last night he was saying he could get really serious about me and today you’d think I had the plague.”
“I don’t know quite how to say this,” Nancy said slowly, “but Jack has been more or less flirting with me, too.”
“Really?” Bess’s eyes grew round with surprise.
Nancy nodded.
Bess was silent for a long time. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she shook her head and angrily wiped them away. Finally she said, “You must think I’m a real idiot, falling for such a total phony. He was faking his interest in me the whole time, wasn’t he?”
Nancy shook her head. “He’s very convincing,” she said. “And maybe he is sincere in a way. He may be one of those guys who doesn’t feel good about himself unless he’s got somebody falling in love with him. So he convinces himself that the lines he’s passing out are true.”
Bess straightened up, then put on a smile. “Believe me, from now on I’m staying away from him.”
“Come on, Bess,” Nancy said to change the subject. “This is the perfect opportunity to search Trainey’s tent.”
Bess became alarmed. “But he might come back at any time!”
“You can stand outside and keep watch.”
“Well—okay,” Bess said reluctantly.
The two girls walked across the campground that was half packed already. Nancy looked at the piles of boxes with a feeling of urgency. She had to get to the bottom of things before time ran out.
While Bess stood guard in front of Train
ey’s tent, Nancy slipped inside. There was a sleeping bag spread out atop an army cot, a single, well-worn suitcase, and a folding table with a laptop computer. Nancy knelt down and opened the suitcase, but all it contained were clean, neatly folded clothes. She turned her attention to a few papers next to the computer, which turned out to be notes for a report on the project.
Trainey’s green coat and floppy green hat were lying on the cot. Nancy picked them up and felt through the coat pockets. In the inside pocket was an envelope that contained a single photograph. It was too dark to make it out. She put the coat and hat back the way they had been and hurried outside.
“What is it?” Bess demanded. “Did you find something?”
“Yes, this picture.” In the bright sunshine, it was easy to distinguish the figure of a person in a green coat and green hat walking out of the hut by feeding station 1. The hat and coat were Trainey’s!
Bess flashed her friend a puzzled look. “What’s so important about this picture?”
Nancy pointed. “Look at the date and time at the bottom.”
Bess read, then counted on her fingers. “Nancy!” she exclaimed. “That was just before the propane stove exploded. That proves it! Trainey caused Brad’s accident!”
Chapter
Thirteen
THIS PICTURE IS proof, Nancy,” Bess repeated. “Trainey had to have tampered with the stove.”
“I’m not positive, Bess,” Nancy said. “The picture’s too blurry. It could be anybody wearing that hat and coat, and if it is Trainey, why would he keep such an incriminating picture? Why not destroy it?”
Bess gave the photograph back to Nancy. “I don’t know.”
“And besides,” Nancy continued, “it seems likely that this is the picture that made Trainey so upset. What if this isn’t Trainey? When he saw it, he must have realized that somebody was trying to frame him. He may even have figured out who.”
Nancy scrutinized the photograph. The floppy hat and turned-up collar of the coat made an effective disguise. All that showed of the person’s face was one cheek and part of the nose.
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