A Secret in Time (10 page)

The girls were led into a large, comfortable office with a glass-topped desk and dark green leather chairs.

“Make yourselves comfortable.” Wilson gestured toward the chairs. “Now tell me again what you told my daughter.”

Nancy was beginning to lose track of how many times she'd told the story of the orange van, but she repeated it again. Mr. Wilson listened carefully, absently tapping a pencil against his desk.

“There's no way it could have been one of our drivers,” Mr. Wilson said when she was finished. “We check them out very carefully. They all have good driving records, and none of them has ever committed a crime.”

“Does anyone else drive your vans?” Nancy asked.

“Sometimes our customers do,” he replied. “We give them that option.”

“We're not accusing anyone of anything,” Nancy said. “We'd just like a list of your drivers to see if any of their names correspond to the information we already have.”

Mr. Wilson looked Nancy squarely in the eye. “I knew it,” he blurted out. “You work for U-Truck-It, don't you?”

“What?” Nancy asked, perplexed.

“U-Truck-It is another moving company. They've been trying to destroy my business for years. Now
they're trying to steal my drivers. I won't stand for it. I'll tell you that right now.”

“I already told you who we are,” Nancy insisted. “We're not trying to steal anyone. We're trying to
catch
a thief!”

“I'm not buying it,” Wilson said, tapping his pencil even louder.

“I have a suggestion,” Nancy said. “Why don't you call the River Heights chief of police and check out our story? If you're convinced then that we're telling the truth, would you give us a list of your drivers?”

The pencil came to rest at the edge of the desk. “Leave your phone number with Jolie,” Mr. Wilson said. “If I'm satisfied with the chief's story, we'll be in touch.”

“That Mr. Wilson is one tough customer,” Bess said as George parked in front of Nancy's house half an hour later. “I can see why he's so successful. He really stands up for himself.”

Nancy was frowning as she got out of the car. “Unless he's protecting one of his drivers.”

“Do you think Mr. Wilson might know something he's not telling us?” asked George.

“Maybe,” Nancy said. “Or else he's just being cautious.”

Bess looked worried. “What if he doesn't call Chief McGinnis? Then we may never find out who was behind the wheel of that van.”

“I'll ask Chief McGinnis to call him,” Nancy said, unlocking the front door and letting her friends in.

“It was nice of you to invite us for lunch,” said Bess. “I feel very deserving today, since I didn't have any ice cream.”

Nancy almost laughed out loud when they reached the kitchen. Sergeant Rudinsky, wearing a flowered blouse and jeans, sat across from Officer Brody, who was also in blue jeans. Hannah stood over them with a huge bowl of chicken salad.

“We really shouldn't be eating like this on the job,” the sergeant said. “You're distracting us, Ms. Gruen.”

“But you'd offend me by refusing,” the housekeeper said.

“Well, maybe just a smidge,” Sergeant Rudinsky agreed. Hannah spooned chicken salad onto her already overloaded plate.

“Delicious,” Officer Brody said through a mouthful of food. “This is a lot better than sitting in that car all day.”

“Hi, Hannah. That looks yummy,” Nancy said, stepping into the kitchen.

Hannah smiled when she saw the girls. “There's plenty more.”

After greeting the officers, Nancy, Bess, and George grabbed some plates and silverware and joined them at the table. They hadn't eaten more than a few mouthfuls when the doorbell rang.

“I'll get it,” Nancy said, hopping out of her chair.

She sprinted down the hall and opened the front door, but there was no one there. Nancy stepped
outside and looked around. She didn't see anyone in the yard or on the street, either.

That's funny, she thought, turning around to go back inside. Stopping suddenly, Nancy saw a knife sticking into the front of the house, its short, sharp blade pinning a piece of paper next to the door.

Nancy's heartbeat quickened as she ripped the note away from the knife and read it:

You can't catch me. No one can.

Tick, tock, I'll get that clock

With or without you, Nancy Drew!

Nancy raced across the lawn to the street. She looked in both directions for an orange van, tire tracks, or any sign of the person who'd left the note. She was sure he couldn't have gone far. Running back to the house, Nancy checked the bushes on either side of the entrance. There was no sign of the thief. He or she seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Nancy read the note again. It was hard to tell whether it meant the thief was going to break in that evening or do something even more desperate to get the clock. Either way, Nancy had a feeling she'd soon come face-to-face with the criminal.

Nancy returned to the front door, yanked the knife out of the wooden shingle, and examined it closely. It was exquisitely crafted, with a mother-of-pearl handle.
The blade was no longer shiny, even rusty in places, but it still looked very sharp. Nancy had never seen anything quite like it before.

She turned the knife over in her hand, thinking of Kimberly Burton's collection of swords and daggers. Could this be one of them? And the note said Nancy would never catch the thief. Could this be Kimberly's way of teasing her, since the woman might have gotten away with her crimes before?

Nancy reentered the house and found her purse on the front hall table. Knowing how upset Hannah would be when she saw the note, Nancy hid the knife inside her purse. No need to worry her further, Nancy thought.

“Nancy?” Hannah called.

Nancy jumped, hoping the housekeeper hadn't seen what she'd just done. “Yes?” she asked, turning.

Hannah stood in the doorway to the kitchen, an anxious look on her face. “Who was at the door?” she asked.

“We got another note,” she said, walking toward the kitchen. “I'd better show it to the officers.”

Officer Rudinsky was on her feet before Nancy even entered the kitchen. She strode toward Nancy, holding her hand out for the note. After she'd read it, she let out a low whistle. “This is very serious.”

Officer Brody had also risen from the table and stood behind his partner, reading over her shoulder. Hannah was in the doorway, her arms crossed in front
of her chest and her lips pressed together in a thin line. Bess and George looked confused until Sergeant Rudinsky passed the note to them.

“It could actually be a good thing,” Nancy said.

Everyone looked at her as if she were crazy.

“Think about it,” Nancy said. “The thief would never have come near the house if he thought the police were still here. That means there's a good chance he'll come back tonight.”

“And with us inside the house,” Officer Brody added, “there's no way he'll get away this time.”

“As long as we're not too busy eating on the job,” Sergeant Rudinsky said, chuckling.

“Don't torture yourself,” Bess said, with a laugh. “You were tempted by Hannah's cooking. I don't think
anyone
could have resisted it.” As if to prove her point, she ate another forkful of chicken salad.

“You know, Nancy,” George said, “I bet there's something else you can do to help lure the thief here tonight. I thought of it while I was reading the note. It sounds like the thief is trying to scare you. So what if you act scared?”

Bess paused, her fork in midair. “Huh?”

“Make it look as if you're too scared to stay in the house tonight,” George explained.

“That's a great idea,” Nancy agreed excitedly. “We could make a big show of leaving—Hannah, my dad, and I. We could turn out the lights, drive the car a couple of blocks away, then sneak back in.”

“Oh, I get it,” said Bess. “The thief will think the Drews
and
the police are gone.”

Sergeant Rudinsky nodded. “It makes sense,” she said. “We can let you in through the back door. Unless you'd rather stay away all night, of course.”

“I never thought I'd say this,” Hannah said slowly, “but I'd rather come home. Even if the thief does show up, I'd feel safer here in the house with the police than I would anywhere else.”

“Then it's settled,” Nancy said.

“What's next, Nancy?” asked George. “Do we just wait for tonight?”

Nancy shook her head. “No. I think it's time we paid another visit to Kimberly Burton.”

• • •

“It sure looks old,” said Bess. She was in the back seat of George's car, examining the pearl-handled knife. “Do you think it might be one of Kimberly's?”

“That's what I want to find out,” Nancy said.

“She does have a big collection of weapons,” Bess recalled with a shiver.

Nancy had called ahead, saying she wanted to take another look at Kimberly's globe brooch. When the girls pulled up in front of the big stone house, Kimberly was waiting for them with the front door open.

“I knew we'd meet again,” she said.

Nancy felt uneasy as she introduced George. Again she found herself searching Kimberly's face for some
double meaning. Why was Kimberly so sure they'd be back? Was she simply confident about her jewelry, or had she set it up so the girls would
have
to come back?

Determined not to show her uncertainty, Nancy decided to play along with Kimberly. “Isn't it funny how certain paths seem to cross?” Nancy commented.

“Life is full of surprises,” said Kimberly, looking right into Nancy's eyes. “Don't you think?”

“Oh, I try never to be surprised,” Nancy said lightly. “I like to stay one step ahead.”

“Not this time,” Kimberly said. She motioned for the girls to follow her down the hall. “I'm the only one who knows where my office is, so you'll have to follow me.”

Nancy sneaked a glance at George and Bess, who both looked as puzzled with the woman's behavior as Nancy was.

Kimberly led the girls down the same hallway they'd passed through before, the one decorated with tapestries and suits of armor. Up ahead, Nancy saw the wall covered with ancient weapons. Though Kimberly started to walk past it, Nancy stopped.

“This is quite a collection,” Nancy said, quickly scanning the wall to see if one of the knives was missing. There were no empty spaces, but several of the knives had pearl handles. “Do you have any more like this?” she asked, pointing to the knife most similar to the one in her purse.

Kimberly frowned. “I thought you came here to discuss brooches, not knives,” she said.

“I'm like you,” Nancy said coolly. “I have many interests.”

“My knives are not for sale,” Kimberly said firmly. Then her golden cat's eyes crinkled at the corners and almost gleamed. “But sometimes I choose to give one away,” she said, “to one of my special friends.”

What did she mean by “special friends”? Nancy wondered. Did she mean she'd “given” the knife to Nancy by sticking it in the Drews' house?

Kimberly turned her back on the girls and led them to a different room from the one they'd been in the day before. This one, despite its stone walls, was a modern office furnished with the latest technology, including a computer, a laser printer, and a fax machine. As in the sitting room, there was a table covered with a red velvet cloth.

This time Kimberly didn't leave the room to get her jewelry collection. She unlocked a heavy wooden cabinet and removed the same wooden tray Nancy and Bess had seen before. On it, among the necklaces and bracelets, was the globe brooch with its amber and emerald continents and sapphire oceans.

As Nancy picked up the brooch to study it, she came up with one last ploy. “You know,” she said, “this brooch is beautiful, but I've recently seen a similar piece that's a little nicer.”

“Similar?” Kimberly asked with interest. “What does it look like?”

Nancy described the rose brooch's ruby petals and emerald stem.

“I'd love to get my hands on that,” Kimberly said, her eyes gleaming. “Do you know where I might find it? I know you saw it first, but you don't mind a little competition, do you?”

It was exactly the reaction Nancy had been hoping for, and yet she was still dissatisfied. Kimberly could have said she wanted to find the brooch to hide the fact that she herself had stolen it. Or she might have been simply interested in acquiring another piece of jewelry.

For good measure, Nancy decided to make her position clear. “I'm afraid I do mind,” she said. “The brooch may never be mine, but it certainly won't be yours.”

“Don't bet on it,” Kimberly said with a wink. “I can be very persuasive.” Standing up, she said briskly, “Well, if we can't do business, may I bid you a fond farewell?”

Kimberly led the girls back into the hallway. As they approached the front door, she gave them one last grin. “Who knows when our paths will cross again?”

• • •

“My head is reeling,” Nancy said to Bess and George as they drove home. “Everything Kimberly said made her sound guilty. But I'm still not sure she's done anything wrong.”

“She's a puzzle, all right,” George agreed. “I sure hope your thief comes through tonight, or we may never get any answers to this case.”

“Yeah,” said Bess. “We've never worked on a case where there were so many people who seemed guilty.”

George dropped Nancy in front of her house. “Call me tonight if anything happens,” she said. “I don't care how late it is.”

“Me, too,” Bess said. “I'm sure I won't be sleeping, anyway. I'll be too busy wondering what's going on.”