A Secret in Time (2 page)

Nancy couldn't help smiling. Despite her best efforts at dieting, Bess always seemed to be a little overweight.

“I'm glad to see you haven't changed,” Bess continued, looking at Lydia's outfit enviously. “How do you afford all these great clothes?”

Lydia shrugged. “They don't cost as much as you'd think. I usually get them at thrift shops.”

“Well, you must be having a field day with all the costumes around here,” Bess said. “Have you bought a new outfit?”

Lydia shrugged. “I didn't see anything I liked. Well, look, I'd better get back to work.”

“We were just about to explore,” said Bess. “Maybe I'll see you in the neighborhood.”

“That would be great. I'm living with my parents again, at least for a while,” Lydia said.

“Nice to see you, Lydia,” Nancy said as she and Bess left the booth. “Mr. Gordon, I'll be back to pick up the clock at the end of the day.”

Mr. Gordon, busy with a customer, gave them a wave.

“Lydia's great,” Bess said as they pushed back into the crowd. “I've always admired her.”

“She's certainly not afraid to be different,” Nancy agreed. “So, what do you want to see first?”

Bess pointed to a furniture display of a sleekly designed 1930s living room. “I just love that style,” Bess sighed. “It's so sophisticated and—” Bess was interrupted by a nearby shout.

“Help!” called a voice that sounded vaguely familiar to Nancy. “Help! Police!”

Nancy turned in the direction of the shout and saw Russell Brown flailing an arm, his face bright red.

“What's wrong?” Nancy called, running toward his booth.

Mr. Brown didn't seem to hear or see Nancy. His head turned frantically in all directions, and there was a look of dismay on his flushed face. “Call the police. I've been robbed!” he cried.

Bess followed right behind Nancy to Russell Brown's booth. Henry Gordon arrived at the same moment.

“I never should have allowed that Jennings woman to persuade me to display here!” Mr. Brown fumed. “For this I paid a two-hundred-dollar exhibition fee? I ought to sue Ms. Jennings.”

“Who's Ms. Jennings?” Nancy asked calmly, noticing that a crowd was beginning to gather.

“The woman who is supposed to run this event,” Mr. Brown fumed. “She's a well-known socialite in River Heights.”

“I'm sure it's not her fault you were robbed,” Nancy said. “Why don't you try to calm down and tell me what was stolen?”

“It's a one-of-a-kind piece,” he said, becoming more agitated, “My rose brooch. It's a very expensive
pin worth fifty thousand dollars! And it's irreplaceable.”

“Could you describe it?” Nancy asked.

“It's a rose, done entirely in precious gems. The petals are made of rubies, and the stem and leaves are emeralds. I never should have brought it here.”

Before Nancy could question Mr. Brown further, a heavyset middle-aged police officer broke through the crowd. Her notebook was already open.

“I'm Sergeant Margaret Rudinsky,” she said. “What is the problem?”

“A priceless antique was stolen from my collection,” Mr. Brown said, turning to the sergeant.

Rudinsky clicked the top of her ballpoint pen and began to write. “What was its estimated value?” she asked.

Nancy stepped back to let the officer do her job. She was relieved that she didn't have to deal with Mr. Brown any longer. He was obviously quite upset. She hadn't come to the show looking for another case. It would be nice, for once, Nancy thought, to relax and enjoy my summer. Maybe tomorrow Bess and I can go swimming at the lake.

Still, Nancy couldn't help listening as Brown described the brooch for the second time. “My other mistake,” he went on, “was unlocking the case to show someone a bracelet. I turned my back for just a second, and the next time I looked, the brooch was gone.”

“How long ago was this?” Sergeant Rudinsky asked.

“Not five minutes—” Brown was about to say something more, but the police officer cut him off by raising her walkie-talkie to her mouth. “Brody, do you read me?” she asked.

A man's voice crackled over the walkie-talkie. “Officer Brody here.”

“Seal the area,” Sergeant Rudinsky said. “There has been a robbery. No one is to leave the building. Over.”

Rudinsky pressed a button, then spoke again into her walkie-talkie. “RH Central, this is Rudinsky at the high school. There's been a robbery. The area has been sealed. Request backup units.”

“Roger, Rudinsky,” came a staticky female voice over the walkie-talkie. “They're on their way.”

Nancy turned as an attractive woman in a red suit emerged from the crowd and approached Sergeant Rudinsky. Her black hair was slicked back into a tight bun, and she wore large pearl earrings.

“I'm Mary Lou Jennings, coordinator of this event,” the woman said.

Nancy recognized Ms. Jennings when she saw her. She was a prominent woman in town who had organized many charities and social functions.

Sergeant Rudinsky told Ms. Jennings about the theft. Then she asked, “Is there a loudspeaker system here? We should make an announcement so everyone knows what's going on. We'll have to search every person in the room.”

“Of course,” said Ms. Jennings. “I'll take care of it.” She hurried past the rows of exhibits to a microphone at one side of the gymnasium. Even though she was wearing high-heeled black patent-leather pumps, she deftly climbed up three rows of bleachers so that everyone in the gym could see her.

“Attention, please,” Ms. Jennings said, and paused as the crowd looked up toward her. “There's been a robbery,” she continued. “The police have sealed the gymnasium and will need to conduct a search. This might take some time, so I apologize for any inconvenience.”

A collective groan rose from the floor, followed by the loud buzz of voices.

Nancy looked around at the huge, bustling crowd. “Some time could mean the better part of the day, with all these people,” she said to Bess. “And the thief might already have escaped.”

Bess nodded. “I saw a snack bar near the entrance to the gym. If we're going to be here for a long time, I'd better stock up. I noticed they had some chocolate croissants.”

Nancy had to laugh. Bess's mind was never far from food. “Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going to let them search me now and get it over with.”

Unfortunately, almost a hundred other people had the same idea. A long line had already formed by the bleachers, turning at the corner of the gym around the perimeter of the exhibits. Standing on tiptoe,
Nancy looked over the crowd and saw Sergeant Rudinsky climbing up the bleachers to join Mary Lou Jennings.

To the right of the bleachers, a young police officer was standing by the blocked entrance. As Nancy watched, he lifted his walkie-talkie to his ear, nodded, and opened the doors to allow four more officers in. When they spotted Sergeant Rudinsky, the officers headed toward her. Nancy couldn't hear what the sergeant said, but she could see the officers nodding. Then they stationed themselves along the floor in front of the bleachers.

Sergeant Rudinsky took the microphone from Ms. Jennings. “We'll try to get through this as quickly as possible,” she said. “When an officer has released you, please proceed to the exit.”

As Nancy headed for the end of the ever-growing line, Bess turned toward the snack bar. “Want me to get you anything?” she asked.

It would be an hour's wait, at least. Shooting her friend a smile, Nancy said, “I'll take a chocolate croissant.”

• • •

Two hours later the croissant was a dim memory. But at last Nancy reached the front of the line. Sergeant Rudinsky efficiently patted Nancy down, then went through her purse. “Thank you,” the officer said. “You're free to go.” She gestured toward the gym doors on her right. “Through there, please. We can't have anyone lingering.”

Suddenly Nancy remembered her clock. She couldn't leave without it. “I have something on display that I'd like to take with me,” she said to Sergeant Rudinsky. “Could I get it?”

The sergeant gave Nancy a careful once-over and asked, “Which display?” Nancy told her, and Sergeant Rudinsky spoke briefly into her walkie-talkie. “I guess it's okay,” she said, clicking off the walkie-talkie. “That booth has already been searched. It's clean.”

Nancy noticed that the police were carefully controlling the traffic of people through the gym. The people and displays that hadn't yet been searched were being kept separate from those that had. It made a lot of sense, Nancy realized. Otherwise, whoever stole the brooch could hand it to someone the police had already searched.

Bess was next in line, so Nancy headed back to Henry Gordon's booth. Mr. Gordon and Lydia were packing the antiques into cardboard boxes. In one of the boxes, Nancy could see the top of her clock poking up through a nest of Styrofoam chips.

“I'm sorry about the way this turned out,” Nancy said to Mr. Gordon. “I guess this wasn't very good for business.”

Mr. Gordon sighed. “It's a shame when you can't trust people long enough to turn your back.”

Nancy nodded. “Thank you for doing such a beautiful job on my clock,” she told him. “How much do I owe you for repairing it?”

“No charge,” Mr. Gordon said.

Nancy started to protest, but Mr. Gordon held up his hand. “It took me less than five minutes to fix the winding mechanism. And your clock was a wonderful conversation piece. It attracted a lot of people to my booth. Despite what happened today, our sales were excellent.”

Lydia smiled at Nancy from behind some cardboard boxes. “Don't argue with the man.”

Nancy laughed. “Thanks, Mr. Gordon. That's really generous of you. Well, if you're done with the clock, I guess I'll take it home.”

“Now, why should you go to the trouble of lugging it home?” Gordon asked, patting the box. “Let me deliver it to your house tomorrow. We'll be making a run in your neighborhood—”

“No,” Nancy said quickly. “It's enough that you're not charging me for the clock. The least I can do is take it home myself.”

“It's really no trouble,” he said.

“No,” Nancy repeated. “I can do it. My car is parked right outside.”

Mr. Gordon shrugged. “Well, at least let me seal the box for you.” Taking a tape gun from a tool chest, he fastened down the cardboard flaps.

“Thanks,” Nancy said, lifting the box.

As Nancy met Bess at the doors, she heard the familiar sound of Russell Brown's frantic voice. Peering over the top of the box, Nancy saw he was with Sergeant Rudinsky.

“What do you mean, everyone is clean?” he demanded. “Someone here has
got
to have my brooch.”

“It's possible the thief escaped before we conducted the search,” Sergeant Rudinsky said calmly. “But I assure you the police department will do everything possible to recover your property.”

“Everything possible?” Brown yelled. “This never should have happened in the first place! That brooch was worth thousands.”

“Take it up with Chief McGinnis,” Sergeant Rudinsky said stiffly. Then she walked away.

Bess shook her head. “I guess Mr. Brown is pretty upset.”

“Yeah,” Nancy agreed. “But that brooch was worth a lot of money.”

“Well, at least it's not
your
headache,” Bess said. “This is one case you won't have to solve.”

“That's exactly what I was thinking,” Nancy said. She shifted the cardboard box in her arms. “This thing is heavy. Let's get out of here.”

Following the crowd, Nancy and Bess made their way down the hallways to the exit. Then they threaded through the line of slow-moving cars trying to get out of the parking lot. Finally, after what seemed like forever, they edged out of the lot and onto the street, the clock sitting on the back seat of Nancy's car.

“What an afternoon,” Bess said, putting on her sunglasses. “Phew!”

Nancy felt the cool breeze on her face as the car
sped along the road. “Maybe tomorrow we should try for something a little more fun,” she said. “How about the lake?”

“Sure,” Bess replied. “I've been dying for an opportunity to show off my new bathing suit.”

“Maybe George can come with us. Is she working tomorrow?” Nancy asked.

“Ill give her a call,” Bess replied.

A few minutes later Nancy dropped Bess off at her house and drove home.

“Hi, Hannah!” she called as she carried the box inside. Hannah Gruen, the Drews' housekeeper, had lived with Nancy and Nancy's father, Carson Drew, ever since Nancy's mother died, when Nancy was three. Hannah was one of the family, and Nancy couldn't imagine what their household would be like without her.

A woman in her sixties with graying hair poked her head out of the kitchen door and smiled. “Did you have fun at the expo?” Hannah asked.

“It's a long story,” Nancy said, heading for the stairs with her box.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Hannah asked. “There wasn't any trouble, was there?”

Nancy smiled at the concerned note in the housekeeper's voice. Hannah was always watching out for Nancy. She didn't like it when Nancy's cases put her in danger.

“Don't worry, Hannah,” Nancy called over her shoulder. “This time it doesn't have anything to do
with me. I'm just going to put my clock back on the dresser. Then I'11 help you with dinner.”

Nancy went up to her room and placed the box on her bed. Then, after slicing the tape with her pocket-knife, she carefully lifted the clock out of the box. Even in the fading afternoon light, it gleamed like new. Mr. Gordon had done a thorough job of restoring it.

As Nancy placed the clock on her dresser, she heard a distinct rattle. That's funny, she thought. I've never heard that noise before.