Stop the Clock (Nancy Drew (All New) Girl Detective Book 12) (11 page)

“Well, it looks as though those ‘things’ went pretty well after all,” George said. “Hmm. I wonder what ‘things’ they were talking about.”

“That’s what I want to know,” I said.

“Do you want to drive past their house again?” Bess asked. “They were too busy bossing those movers to see us the first time.”

“No, I’m not sure I want to risk them noticing us. They’ll probably see us the second time, and I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of thinking we
care that much about their moving back to River Heights!” I said.

“I’m with you on that,” George said. “I can’t stand those two.”

“I’m also supposed to have lunch with the Romer sisters. I need to get ready for that,” I said.

“Romer, Romer,” Bess said. “Why is that name familiar?”

I reminded them about the case I had worked on a while back that disinherited the Smalleys.

“Oh, that’s odd,” George said. “Do you think it’s all connected?”

“I don’t know
what
to think,” I said, “but I’ll call you when I get back from lunch.”

When we got back to my house, Bess pulled in the driveway and let me out.

Just as I started to unlock the door, Hannah pulled it open. This was becoming a habit.

“You need to call Chief McGinnis right away,” Hannah said.

I raced upstairs, so I could jot down any important information in the notebook I keep next to the telephone.

This time Chief McGinnis’s secretary answered, but she recognized my voice and said, “Hold, please, Nancy.”

When Chief McGinnis came on the line, he wasted no time. “Mr. Franklin took a taxi to the bus station. He bought a ticket to San Antonio, Texas. He only had one small suitcase with him,” he said. “The officer who followed him there said he looked really scared about something.”

The Puzzle Is Almost Complete

S
omething’s not adding up
here, Chief McGinnis,” I said. “Mr. Franklin never struck me as a person who would be afraid of anything.”

“Now, why would my officer make up a thing like that, Nancy?” Chief McGinnis said. “If she thought the man looked scared, then the man looked scared.”

“I’m not saying she made it up, Chief, I’m just telling you that it certainly doesn’t seem to fit Mr. Franklin’s personality, that’s all,” I told him, stifling a sigh. “Anyway, what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m not going to do anything about it, but—”

“You’ve got to!” I said. “Mr. Franklin is a suspect in this case, and if we lose him, then—”

“But I know the bus driver,” Chief McGinnis continued. “He’s married to a cousin of mine, and he
said he’d call me if Mr. Franklin got off the bus before it reached San Antonio.”

I could tell that Chief McGinnis was really enjoying having pulled a fast one on me, but I, in turn, acted as if I didn’t realize what had happened. I’m sure that really bugged him. “Well, what’ll happen once Mr. Franklin gets to San Antonio?” I asked.

“I called a friend of mine on the San Antonio police force,” Chief McGinnis said. “He’s going to arrange for one of his men to follow Mr. Franklin to wherever it is he’s going.”

“You sure do have a lot of police friends around the country,” I said. “I’m impressed.”

“I was one of the officers in the national police chiefs’ organization a couple of years ago,” Chief McGinnis said proudly. “I met a lot of people, and I made a lot of friends.”

I knew this part of the conversation had to do with Chief McGinnis’s wanting me to know that he isn’t dumb, even though a lot of people in River Heights think he is. Just for the record, I’ve never thought he was dumb. I just think he’s . . . well, he misses some of the more
important
details in investigations.

“I’ve always said that we’re fortunate to have someone like you running the River Heights Police Department, Chief McGinnis,” I said, continuing to
butter him up. “Will you let me know if you hear anything from the bus driver?”

“Of course I will, Nancy,” Chief McGinnis said. “All of the citizens of River Heights have to work together to keep our streets safe from criminals.”

“That’s true,” I agreed. “And you know that you can always count on me. I have to run now. Thanks again for calling me with this update. Bye!” I quickly hung up the receiver.

I looked at my watch. If I didn’t hurry, I’d be late for lunch with Lizzie and Janice Romer. I checked the address of Janice Romer’s apartment, then headed out the front door.

I was glad that the traffic on River Street wasn’t very heavy. Sometimes getting around during lunch hour can be difficult. In a short time I reached Janice’s place, turned into the parking lot, found a space that I assumed was for visitors, and pulled into it. I quickly found Janice’s apartment in one of the buildings at the rear and rang the bell.

Janice answered the door. “Oh, Nancy! Thank you so much for coming,” she said.

She looked to me as though she might have been crying, because her eyes were a bit red. But then I realized it might have been allergies. On the way over to the apartment, I’d passed a sign at one of the town’s
allergy clinics that said the tree pollen was high today.

Just then Lizzie came up behind her and added, “We knew we could count on you, Nancy Drew.”

“Of course,” I said. “I’m glad you called! It was a nice surprise.”

“Lunch is ready,” Janice said. “The bathroom is just down the hall, if you want to freshen up.”

“Thanks,” I said.

When I got back, Lizzie and Janice were already seated at the small dining table.

“We’re just having salads, but I made several kinds,” Janice said, “so there should be something here that you’ll like.”

“Oh, this all looks wonderful,” I said, sitting down at the only remaining chair. “You two are such great cooks. I’m envious!”

Within minutes I could tell that they were both very upset about something, but I tried to be as upbeat as possible while I helped myself to small portions of several of the salads. I took a couple of bites, then decided to cut to the chase. “Hannah said you sounded very upset, Lizzie. Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Well, we’re not exactly sure where to start,” Janice said. She produced a letter, which she must have had on her lap. “I guess this is the best way. We wanted
you to read this, and tell us what you make of it.”

I wiped my hands on my napkin, then took the letter from her. It was from a lawyer in a town about twenty miles down the Muskoka River, but I wasn’t familiar with his name. As I read the letter, I felt chills go up and down my spine. It informed the Romer sisters that a forensic linguist had determined that the handwritten
third
will, in which the late Albert Washington gave them a lot of money, was a fake, and that they were going to have to repay all the money they had received.

I looked up. Both Lizzie and Janice were staring at me expectantly.

“Well, this letter certainly
looks
genuine, but I’ve never heard of this law firm,” I said. “Of course, that doesn’t mean much. Dad knows a lot of lawyers in the state and across the entire country, and I’ve heard many of their names in conversation, but he certainly doesn’t know all of them.” I shook my head in disbelief. “Still, I can’t believe this is really true.”

“We’re so upset, Nancy—as you can imagine,” Lizzie said. “We still have some of the money left, but we don’t have it all, and there’s no way we could repay it.”

“If we did, we’d be destitute again,” Janice added. “We were just starting to get our lives together!”

I remembered when I first met Janice and Lizzie
Romer. They lived on a small farm several miles from River Heights. Their parents had died in an automobile accident, leaving them almost penniless. Still, they managed to survive by selling eggs and whatever vegetables they could raise. It was their kindness to Albert Washington that allowed them to have a life. They had no idea he was as wealthy as he was the day he stopped by their little farm and bought some of their fresh tomatoes. He stayed most of one afternoon, listening to the twins’ life stories, and their secret for how they got more eggs from their chickens and how they made sure insects didn’t destroy their tomato vines. He seemed to take a liking to the girls. After that afternoon, he would visit them a couple of times a week, just to chat. The three of them had become very close by the time he got ill and couldn’t drive to their farm anymore.

When Mr. Washington invited Janice and Lizzie to his house, they were stunned by his wealth. They were also angered by the way that the Smalley family treated him. As his closest relatives, the Smalleys had told everyone they should be the ones to take care of him at his house, around the clock. But sometimes they left him alone for long periods of time. It was a good thing Janice and Lizzie got there when they did: Albert was lying on the floor, unable to get up! It was quite obvious to the Romer twins that the Smalleys
were only interested in Albert Washington’s money. And, in fact, the Smalleys soon began bragging to everyone that Albert Washington had written a second will, leaving his entire estate to them.

The Smalleys tried to keep the Romer twins from visiting Albert Washington, but the girls managed to visit when the Smalleys left him alone—which, toward the end of his life, was almost always. It was during one of these times, I was sure, that Albert Washington wrote out a third will—the one I found—which left a large portion of his fortune to Janice and Lizzie. The rest went to some other relatives who had been named in the
first
will, and had contested the second one that left everything to the Smalleys.

“We don’t know what we’re going to do, Nancy,” Lizzie said. “We drove over to River City last night, near where we used to live, and talked to a police officer we know there.”

“He said the letter looked genuine to him,” Janice added, “although he also admitted he was no expert.”

I folded up the letter and put it back inside the envelope. “May I take this and let my father look at it?” I said.

“Oh, would you do that for us?” Lizzie said. “We know we can trust you.”

“I don’t mind at all,” I said.

We finished the rest of the delicious lunch, then I told Lizzie and Janice that I needed to leave, but that I would be in touch with them by tomorrow at the latest.

As I headed back toward my house, I was positive that the Smalleys were behind the letter Lizzie and Janice had received, and I had a hunch that they were somehow behind the problems I’d been having at the library as well. Maybe Deirdre was off the hook.

I had just turned onto my street, when I decided that I wanted Ned with me when I confronted the Smalley sisters about all this. I called his cell phone.

“Hey, Ned. Where are you?” I asked when he picked up.

“I’m parked in front of your house, ready to walk up to the door and ring the bell,” Ned said. “Where are you?”

“I’m on my way back from lunch with the Romer sisters,” I told him. “Stay where you are; I’m a second away. We have another stop to make.”

“Okay,” Ned said.

The next minute, I pulled up alongside Ned’s car. He hopped out and got into mine.

“Where are we going?” Ned asked.

“To the Smalleys’ house,” I told him. I quickly filled him in on what Janice and Lizzie had told me.
“The Smalleys really are behind all this, Ned, I just know they are.”

“Well, it’s certainly all starting to fit together that way, Nancy,” Ned agreed.

I listened as he reviewed all the things that had happened since the day the clock was stolen from the library, including all the things that had happened to me as chair of the decoration committee for the library anniversary celebration.

“Yes—now it’s easy to see the Smalleys’ hands in everything,” I said. “Someone
really
angry with me is doing all these things—and I know they qualify.”

Ned nodded.

Just then we turned onto the Smalleys’ street and started past the front of their house. As we neared the sidewalk in front of their porch, I couldn’t believe what I saw.

“What in the world is Ellis Lamsley doing here?” I gasped.

Ned didn’t say anything. I think he was as confused as I was. “Maybe they have some library books that are overdue?” he said.

“Yeah, right,” I said, smirking at his joke.

Ned was just being facetious. First, I’d never seen either of the Smalley girls reading for pleasure; they were usually shopping and socializing. Second, the library didn’t send their staff out to collect overdue
fines. Ellis could only be there on a personal matter. This whole mystery was getting more and more bizarre.

That’s when I remembered the name. Ellis’s last name. Lamsley.

Just as I turned a corner, my cell phone rang. Ned answered it for me; it was Bess. She wanted us to meet her and George at George’s house.

“You timed your call just right,” I said. “I have something really weird to tell you.”

We were about five blocks from George’s house, so it didn’t take us long to get there.

Ned and I hurried to the front door and rang the bell.

I could tell by the look on George’s face when she opened the door that something had happened—and it wasn’t good.

“Break it to me gently, George,” I said, as Ned and I went inside.

Bess was sitting in a chair with a frozen expression on her face. Suddenly I was scared. “Is it Dad or Hannah?” I managed to ask. “Has something happened to them?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that, Nancy,” Bess said. She stood up. “It’s still bad, though—and we wanted to be with you when you heard.”

“Okay,” I said, steeling myself. “I’m ready.”

“All the posters that we made for the library celebration were ruined by leaking water,” George said.

I just looked at her—half relieved, half angry. “What happened? Did the library flood or something?” I asked. I could just see some major water catastrophe devastating the library.

“No, the leak was just down in the basement, where you’d said in your note that we should store the posters,” Bess said. “A water pipe leaked on them.”

“I didn’t tell anyone to store any posters in the basement,” I said. “Someone else wrote that note.” Everyone was just staring at me. I took a deep breath. “Well, I also have a surprise for you two,” I told Bess and George. “Ned and I just saw Ellis Lamsley going into the Smalleys’ house.”