Hidden Meanings (9 page)

But then, out in the corridor, she heard a firefighter shout. “We've found a blaze! Room 707!”

Nancy's heart leapt. Gina's room!

More footsteps pounded past. Nancy paced restlessly around her enclosed space. Her own fear had given way to worry about Gina. Whether or not she liked her, Nancy had to admit the girl was in danger.

Finally, Nancy heard the firefighters troop back out. The fire doors suddenly swung open, and Nancy sprinted into the corridor.

Looking down over the railing, she saw the lobby packed with anxious guests and staff members. A group of firefighters, in black coats and thick rubber boots, were gathering at the front entrance. A fire captain was conferring with Maureen Peabody. Evan Sharpless stood behind her.

Nancy saw the manager nod as he shook the captain's hand. Then she spoke to Mr. Sharpless. He turned and jogged to the bridge arching over the lobby pool.

When Evan Sharpless held up his hand for attention, the crowd fell silent. He called out in his resonant voice, “A small blaze was found and put out. All rooms have been checked and given the all clear. You may go back to your rooms now.”

A spontaneous cheer arose from the crowd. Somehow, the newscaster's manner had put them at ease. Nancy guessed that was why Maureen Peabody had let him make the announcement.

Nancy ran down the hall to Gina's room. The door stood wide open, and she saw at once the smoke-blackened door frame around the closet and the mass of charred clothing inside. The room smelled of smoke, but nothing else seemed to have burned.

At that moment Gina, Sally, and Ned came up behind Nancy. Gina gasped. “All our clothes are ruined!” she cried.

“You must have been downstairs when the fire started,” Nancy said.

Sally turned to give Nancy an odd look. “No,” she said. “We'd just come back upstairs when the alarm went off. We evacuated our room, but . . . there was no fire here when we left.”

Nancy's eyes narrowed. “Then it
was
a false alarm,” she said. “A way to get you out of your room and make sure no one would stay to guard the room. Someone must have sneaked in and set the fire after you left.”

“Looks to me like someone wants to harass Gina but not necessarily hurt her,” Ned said. “Burning up her clothes is one definite way to disturb her.”

“Sally, maybe you and Gina should check to see that nothing else is ruined,” Nancy suggested. Nodding, Sally moved slowly into the room.

“My best things!” Gina wailed, standing in front of the closet. “My shoes, my handbags. I'd just spent two days at the best boutiques in Rome. My whole wardrobe is gone!”

“Has anybody seen my camera?” Sally piped up uneasily. “I had a black canvas bag with a camera, all my lenses, several rolls of film, and a matching portfolio, too, full of developed negatives. It's all my photography stuff.”

Ned, Nancy, and Gina began to hunt with Sally. “You had it with you at the café, I know,” Gina said, peering behind the curtains. “She never goes anywhere without her camera,” she added, looking at Nancy and Ned. Then Gina turned toward Sally. “I saw you bring it back up, Sal.”

“I left it on the floor by the desk,” Sally said. “It's definitely gone!”

Gina ran over to hug Sally. “Oh, I feel so horrible!” she said. “I can always buy more clothes, but your pictures can never be replaced.” For once, Gina seemed more concerned with someone else's problem than with her own, Nancy realized.

“Maybe they'll turn up,” Nancy said, trying to console Sally. “Right now, why don't I go get some clothes to lend you two? That way, you'll have something to wear tomorrow, at least.”

“Gee, thanks, Nancy,” Sally said gratefully.

“That'd be great,” Gina chimed in. “And I'll take you shopping tomorrow, Sally. I'll buy you a new camera, and lots of new clothes.”

“You don't need to, Gina,” Sally protested.

“But it's all my fault!” Gina said. “Besides, I've always wanted to help you spruce up your wardrobe. I've got my credit cards. Daddy will never notice if I run up a little bill.”

As Gina chattered on, Nancy saw that she was successfully cheering up Sally. Gina may be a flirt, Nancy thought, but at least she's a loyal friend. And that was one trait Nancy admired in people.

Nancy quietly left and went down the hall to her room to fetch some clothes. Bess and George were both there and listened intently to Nancy's news of the fire. “Oh, let me help find clothes for Gina,” Bess said with a sly grin.

Fifteen minutes later Nancy returned to room 707 with an armload of clothing. Ned was sitting on his chair outside room 709, next door. “I let them move into my room,” he told Nancy. “I don't mind sleeping next to a burned closet, but Gina shouldn't have to. You were right, by the way. It
was
more important to guard the room than to guard Gina. I should have listened to you.”

Nancy softened. “How could we guess what this maniac is up to?” she said. “I still don't understand him. Anyway, here are the clothes.”

Ned rose and took the pile. Tossing it on his chair, he began to sort through it. There were a couple of George's sweatsuits, Bess's baggiest cotton shorts, and some T-shirts from the gift shop. Ned unfolded the one with the octopus on it. “ ‘Kiss Me, I'm Available,' ” he read out loud. “Let me guess.” He turned to Nancy with a grin. “Is this one for Gina, by any chance?”

Nancy feigned innocence. “Think it'll fit her?”

Ned laughed and drew Nancy into his arms. As they melted into a long kiss, Nancy forgot to wonder whether anyone was watching.

• • •

Nancy and Bess were eating breakfast in the employee cafeteria the next morning, when George walked up, looking glum. “Bad news,” she said. “Paul was fired.”

Bess set down her tea cup with a clatter. “Why?” she asked with concern.

“Apparently he left work without permission last night,” George said, sighing. “I just saw him down in the employees' locker area, clearing out his stuff. I'm going to meet him outside in ten minutes. Could you guys come, too? Maybe we can help him get his job back.”

Nancy and Bess agreed. Clearing away their trays, the three girls went up a back staircase and emerged at the parking lot behind the hotel.

Paul was loading a duffel bag into the trunk of a small black car. At Nancy's urging, he told them his story.

“Mr. Wasilick was looking for me last night, around ten o'clock,” he said. “I guess he wanted to grill me about the dead rat, since I was the one who delivered it. But I wasn't around, and he got steamed. And then the fire alarm went off.”

“That was just after ten,” Nancy commented.

Paul shrugged. “I came back at eleven-fifteen, after the fire was over. Wasilick had already gone home. When I came in this morning, he was waiting for me—to fire me for dereliction of duty. I got the idea he thought I pulled the alarm and set the fire.”

Nancy looked at Paul steadily. “Did you?”

Paul seemed offended. “Of course not!” he declared. “Look, I shouldn't have left work, but I had a personal matter to attend to. I've got an alibi.”

“Where were you?” Nancy asked, pressing him.

“An old girlfriend called and asked to meet me for a cup of coffee over on campus,” he began. “She said it was urgent. She told me her little sister is at the yearbook conference, and she'd heard there was trouble there. She wanted me to keep an eye on her sister—she doesn't trust hotel security.” He rolled his eyes. “When I mentioned that to Wasilick, it really made him mad,” he added ruefully.

“I can believe that,” Nancy said. “But look, maybe we can get Mr. Wasilick to call your girlfriend and have her verify your alibi. What's her name?”

“Bianca Fiorella,” Paul said.

B
IANCA
F
IORELLA?” NANCY REPEATED
, shocked. “You used to date Gina Fiorella's older sister?”

Paul glanced back at her. “You know Gina?”

“She was the girl you delivered the dead rat to last night!” Nancy told him.

He was stunned. “Wow,” he murmured. “They don't look much alike, you know—Bianca's blond, and Gina's dark. But they both sure are knockouts.”

“You never met Gina when you were dating Bianca?” Bess asked.

Paul shook his head. “Gina's boarding school isn't nearby, and the rest of the family lives in Rome,” he explained. He winced. “I never met any of the family, in fact. They didn't approve of me. I guess they think a scholarship student who works as a waiter isn't good enough for Bianca.”

“Why did you break up?” Nancy asked, curious.

Paul snorted. “Bianca's mom told her to stop seeing me—and she did. I never thought she'd be such a coward,” he added bitterly. “But when Mrs. Fiorella cut off Bianca's allowance, she gave in. I'm better off without her,” Paul said stiffly.

“But when she called last night, you ran over right away,” George said. Nancy detected an edge of jealousy in her friend's voice.

Paul crossed his arms defensively. “I admit, I hoped she wanted us to get back together,” he said. “But she was just using me to help out her family. As if I owed them anything!”

“Will Bianca support your alibi for last night?” Nancy asked Paul. He nodded.

“Would that convince Mr. Wasilick to give Paul his job back?” George asked Nancy.

“Possibly,” Nancy said, “although Paul still did leave work when he wasn't supposed to. I can't really approach Mr. Wasilick about it. He doesn't like me. But I will try to talk to Ms. Peabody.”

Paul broke into a relieved smile. “Thanks!” Waving goodbye, Paul climbed into his car and drove away. “I can't believe Mr. Wasilick suspects Paul of setting that fire,” George said, annoyed.

“Well,” Nancy said slowly, “he was missing at the right time. And if Mr. Wasilick knew Paul had a grudge against the Fiorellas—”

“Nancy, don't tell me
you
think Paul did anything wrong!” George interrupted, looking upset.

Nancy sighed. “He did deliver that dead rat, George,” she said. “He fits Rosita's description of the man who lifted her passkey. He works in the kitchen, so he could have left those skewers. Maybe he does hate the Fiorellas, or maybe—what if Gina's dad's enemies paid him to get close to Bianca in the first place?”

George and Bess both drew back. “Nancy, you really have a suspicious mind,” Bess said.

“Look, guys, I like Paul,” Nancy insisted, “but we still don't know why this stuff is happening to Gina. The only way to prove Paul's innocence is to find out who really did these things. We have to step up our surveillance. Let's see . . . you both know what Jane Sellery looks like. But, George, you've never seen Nick Kessler. He's big and very muscular, with short dark hair, blue eyes, and a square jaw.”

“Got it,” George said. “I know what that guy with the beard looks like—I saw him yesterday at the pool.”

“But I wouldn't be able to recognize him,” Bess said. “Do you really consider him a suspect, Nancy?”

“It's just a hunch,” Nancy said, “but we can't overlook anything. He could have heard us talking about the oleander, George. We know he was in the lobby two days ago, when Gina fell into the pool.” Suddenly Nancy paused. “Hey, Bess, he's in that photo Sally took of Evan Sharpless. Let's go see if she has a copy of it, to show you what he looks like. Even though her negatives were stolen, there's a chance she may have made some prints in the darkroom.”

George said goodbye and headed for the pool, where she was scheduled to lifeguard. Nancy and Bess made their way to the workshop meeting area in the Muskoka Lobby. The red-carpeted landing was filled with students. Felt-covered blackboard-style displays had been set up in one section, and editors were busily pinning up photos, hand-lettered headlines, and typed squares of paper.

Nancy spotted Ned, leaning against a side wall. “There's Ned, so Gina must be nearby,” Nancy said.

“There's Gina,” Bess said, pointing to a blue display board with the school name Lloyd Hall mounted on it. Wielding a long steel ruler, Gina was intently lining up a photograph with a block of copy. Sally knelt at the bottom of the board, sorting through more photos. Both were dressed in George's old sweatsuits. Somehow, Nancy noticed, Gina still looked glamorous.

Sally saw Nancy and waved. Nancy walked over to admire the display. “Looks great,” she said.

Gina leaned back, squinting critically. “I don't know why they stuck us in this dark corner,” she complained. “Sally's pictures deserve better lighting, and nobody can read this copy I wrote.”

“Gina, Sally, this is my friend Bess,” Nancy said. “She works here at the hotel.” Gina threw Bess a dismissive glance. Sally smiled and said hello.