Hidden Meanings (2 page)

The dark-haired girl who'd taken the camera had tumbled into the pool. Her arms and legs flailing, she choked and sputtered wildly.

Suddenly the girl's head slid under the surface of the water. Nancy watched in horror as the girl was pulled along by the current—head first toward the cascade!

A
CTING ON INSTINCT, NED
vaulted up onto the black marble ledge beside the reflecting pool. “Get Mr. Ruxton!” he yelled over his shoulder to Nancy. Then he flung himself into the pool.

Knowing Ned would rescue the girl, Nancy peered over the heads of the crowd that had rushed over to the water. Mr. Ruxton had been here a few minutes earlier, saying goodbye to Evan Sharpless. Had he already gone back to the registration lobby?

Nancy leapt down from the planter box, then raced up the side corridor and into the Muskoka Lobby. Spotting Gary Ruxton near the picture window with another teacher, she called to him from the doorway. “Mr. Ruxton—a student fell into the pool!”

Mr. Ruxton moved quickly. “Swimming pool or lobby pool?” he asked, sprinting for the door.

“Lobby pool,” Nancy replied. She spun around and ran beside him toward the lobby. “Ned jumped in to try to get her before she went down the waterfall.”

They charged up the corridor and into the main lobby. Nancy spotted an overturned luggage trolley at the foot of the black marble ramp running down from the front doors. A bellman in a red uniform was picking up the pile of suitcases that had fallen off it. Stepping over the bags, Nancy sized up what had happened. The trolley must have rolled out of control down the ramp and crashed into the ledge right by the footbridge, knocking the girl into the water.

Nancy and Mr. Ruxton reached the girl, who was sitting on the marble ledge, her friends gathered around her. Ned, soaking wet, was climbing out of the pool.

“What happened?” Gary Ruxton demanded. The crowd parted, and Nancy looked at the girl. Even with water streaming from her long dark hair and clothes, Nancy could tell the girl was strikingly beautiful. Her figure was petite but shapely and her delicate, olive-skinned face had a full mouth and huge dark eyes.

The girl drew a deep breath. “I was on the ledge, trying to get everyone in the picture,” she told Mr. Ruxton. “Then I heard a loud noise behind me. I looked around and saw this big luggage cart rolling down the ramp. It came right at me!”

She shivered and went on. “I think a garment bag swinging from the rail on top knocked me into the pool,” she added. “The current—it started to pull me down. And then . . . someone saved me.” She twisted around, and her dark eyes stared up into Ned's. Nancy felt her stomach flip over with jealousy.

“Can someone go get a towel?” piped the tall, curly-haired girl, standing by the wet girl's side.

“Uh, of course,” Mr. Ruxton responded, looking around. “At the swimming pool—level three—”

Bess materialized out of the crowd. Nancy guessed that she'd been too curious to stay behind, once she'd seen Nancy run in to get Mr. Ruxton. “I'll go,” Bess said, and hurried away.

Mr. Ruxton knelt beside the dark-haired girl. “What's your name?” he asked her.

“G-Gina. Gina Fiorella.” She forced out the words between chattering teeth.

Nancy noticed the teacher rock back on his heels and let out a slight gasp. “From Lloyd Hall, right?” he asked. “Near Chicago?” Gina nodded.

“She's editor of our yearbook, the
Cameo,
” her friend added.

Mr. Ruxton twisted around to look at the curly-haired girl. “And you are—?” he inquired.

The girl blushed shyly. “I'm her coeditor, Sally Harvey,” she replied. “And her roommate.”

“Oh, yes—Lloyd Hall is a boarding school, right?” Mr. Ruxton said. Gina nodded.

Just then Sally drew a startled breath. “Gina—the camera! You had it in your hand when you fell—”

Gina waved a careless hand toward the pool. “Oh, it's in there somewhere,” she said.

Sally jumped up onto the marble ledge and began to look for the camera at the bottom of the pool.

As Ned climbed up beside Sally to help her look, Gina reached up and tugged on his wet T-shirt. “Hey—you're my knight in shining armor,” she murmured. Her voice had gotten low and husky. Ned, looking down, flashed her a broad grin. Nancy, wedged in the crowd behind Gary Ruxton, did a slow burn.

Just then Bess hurried up with an armload of fresh white towels and handed them to Gina. The girl pulled two off the top of the pile and handed them up to Ned. “Come down and dry off,” she commanded, with a mischievous look from under thick dark lashes. Ned, with another grin, obeyed.

A woman in a business suit ran over the bridge. “Mr. Ruxton, I just heard about the accident. Is everything under control?”

“I think so, Ms. Peabody,” Mr. Ruxton answered. “Right, Ms. Fiorella?”

“I'm fine,” Gina replied.

“Ms. Fiorella?” The woman seemed to react to the girl's name in the same way Mr. Ruxton had—with a tinge of awe. She leaned over solicitously. “I'm Maureen Peabody, the general manager of the Atrium Hotel,” she said, introducing herself. “You have towels, I see. Let me get you a hot drink. Can I help you to your room?”

“What's going on?” a male voice boomed. A tall, muscular man in a dark sweater and jeans lumbered up, stuffing the last of a sandwich into his mouth. Gina turned toward him with narrowed eyes.

“You're late, Nick,” she snapped.

“I told you I was getting lunch,” he protested.

“You were hired to protect me,” she said. “You were supposed to be back at two. I almost drowned! If it hadn't been for this guy—” She reached up to grab Ned's hand.

Ned looked over at Nancy and gave a helpless shrug. Nancy lifted her chin. Ned didn't pull his hand away, she noted. Her face set in cool indifference, Nancy turned to Bess. “Let's check out that luggage trolley,” she murmured.

Nancy and Bess slipped away through the dispersing crowd and wandered over to the trolley. The two girls stood nearby as the bellman, whose name tag read Ralph Winkler, reloaded the luggage trolley. Holding onto the brass top rail, Ralph fidgeted as a thickset middle-aged man in a polyester sport jacket spoke to him.

“But, Mr. Wasilick!” Ralph protested. “I
had
to leave the trolley unattended. A guest in a wheelchair asked me to help him down the ramp. That's what we were told in training—guests come first.”

“Well, that trolley didn't take off by itself,” Mr. Wasilick insisted.

“I left it six feet from the top of the ramp. Someone must have pushed it,” Ralph declared. “The next thing I knew, I heard it rolling. I turned around and it was already down by the pool.”

“Well, that's no excuse,” Mr. Wasilick said. “You know who that girl down there is?” Nancy perked up, listening. “Her daddy is none other than Lorenzo Fiorella, one of the richest men in Italy,” Mr. Wasilick said. “I spent three hours yesterday with that bodyguard of hers, just to prove that my security setup here is A-OK. And then this happens. We could get hit with a whale of a lawsuit.”

Ralph stood limply beside the trolley as the security chief strode away. At that moment Bess piped up. “That ramp is awfully slick. I nearly slipped on it myself this morning. They ought to put some no-skid strips on it, like in bathtubs.”

Ralph brightened immediately. “I
told
them it was dangerous,” he said. “Architects design these dramatic spaces without thinking about how folks in wheelchairs will get around. The incline is a killer, and it ends two feet from the pool! They should redesign it.”

“Maybe they will now,” Bess said, trying to reassure him.

Ralph leaned eagerly toward Bess. “Are you a guest at the hotel?” he asked.

“Well, no—I'm just working here,” she said. “At the workshop registration desk—”

“Great!” Ralph said. “You see, we have a policy against asking guests for dates. But since you're not a guest—will you have dinner with me tonight?”

Bess's face turned beet red, and Nancy quickly understood why. Gary Ruxton was walking past. He must have heard the bellman asking Bess out.

Embarrassed, Bess stammered, “Uh . . . uh . . . not tonight—I have to work at the banquet. Gotta run!” With that, Bess scooted off toward the Muskoka Lobby. Nancy silently ducked away, too, leaving Ralph alone with his trolley.

Heading back toward the lobby pool, Nancy passed Gina Fiorella, swaddled in towels, being helped by her roommate to the elevators. Ned stood at the end of the bridge, rubbing his hair dry with a towel. As Nancy joined him, Gary Ruxton hurried over. Nancy introduced Mr. Ruxton to Ned. “Ned, Nancy, thanks so much for your help,” Mr. Ruxton said. “What can I do to repay you? Can you join us here tonight for our kick-off banquet?”

“Sure, thanks,” Nancy replied eagerly.

“Riverview Ballroom, seven o'clock,” the teacher announced, and he dashed away with a parting wave.

“Okay with you?” Nancy asked Ned gingerly. Something about his mood troubled her.

“Well, actually—I have to work tonight,” Ned said, not quite meeting her eyes.

Nancy frowned. “I thought you said your summer job was over,” she said, puzzled.

Ned stared down at his sopping shoes. “This is something else,” he muttered. “That girl—the one who fell in the pool—just offered me a job.”

Nancy felt stunned. “A job?” she repeated.

“She wants me to be her new bodyguard,” Ned explained, finally looking up at her. “She fired that other guy and asked me to replace him. I have to go home now to pack. She wants me to stay here in the hotel, in the room right next to hers.” He threw her a pleading glance. “It's just until the conference ends, and it pays really well. I could sure use the money, Nan.”

Nancy willed her voice to be steady as she turned and began to walk up the ramp to the front doors. “But you aren't a trained bodyguard,” she said evenly.

“So, what do I have to know?” Ned complained, following her. “All I have to do is trail her around, guard her room at night, that kind of thing. Just from helping you on cases, I probably know more than that Nick guy did.”

Great, thought Nancy.
My
cases have trained Ned for a job hanging around
her.

• • •

Entering the Riverview Ballroom at six forty-five that evening, Nancy drifted through the crowd alone. She scanned the crowd, trying to spot Gina and Ned. Her heart sank when she couldn't find them anywhere.

She admitted to herself that seeing them together would bother her a lot. But
not
seeing them made her feel even worse. All she could think was that they must be somewhere else—together.

Nearby, Evan Sharpless was chatting with a group of students. It's nice of him to spend so much time with them, Nancy mused. For a celebrity, he didn't seem at all snobby.

Then she saw Sally Harvey standing with some friends, camera in hand. Nancy stepped over to her. “I see you got your camera back,” she commented.

Sally gave Nancy a blank look, clearly not recognizing her. With so many people crowded around Gina in the lobby that afternoon, Sally probably hadn't noticed their faces, Nancy realized.

“Oh, yes—it went down the cascades and ended up in the pool at the bottom,” Sally replied.

“Does it still work?” Nancy asked.

Sally nodded, then grinned. Nancy saw that even if Sally didn't know her, she was still ready to be friendly. “Luckily, this is a waterproof camera,” Sally explained. “My friend Gina and I just came from Florida, where we were doing some scuba diving. It was my birthday, so she bought me this camera for underwater photography.”

Then Sally's gaze was drawn to the ballroom entrance. Nancy followed her eyes and saw Gina enter the ballroom. Ned was nowhere in sight.

Gina, dressed in a chic blue minidress, made a beeline for Gary Ruxton. Her imperious manner and her dazzling looks cast a hush over the crowd. “Well, Mr. Ruxton,” she called out in a loud voice. “Almost getting drowned was bad enough. But now this!”

“What are you talking about, Gina?” Mr. Ruxton asked, perplexed. People edged closer to catch her answer.

With a fiery glare, she announced dramatically, “Somebody just broke into my hotel room!”