Nobody's Business (4 page)

Andrew nodded. “I went down early this morning to connect some work lights,” he said, “but I'm the only one who's been in the basement since the fire fifty years ago, not including some inspectors and the architect who measured it for the renovation.” Shaking his head, he added, “It's a real mess down there. Most of the stuff is
left over from the fire, and half of it's so burned up you can't even tell what it is.”

After grabbing a rolled-up blueprint that was leaning against the wall next to the door, Andrew started down the stairs, followed by the others.

“Wow!” Bess exclaimed when they'd gotten halfway down the stairs. “When you said this was a mess, you weren't kidding.”

Broken lamps were piled on top of charred wooden beams. Damp, moldy mattresses with the springs sticking out were stacked unevenly, some piles reaching almost to the low ceiling. And there were stacks and stacks of yellowed newspapers and magazines everywhere.

Peering over the mess, Nancy saw that the room stretched for dozens of yards in front of them and to the right and left of the stairs. It seemed to be the same size as the whole first floor. At her feet were the remnants of a wooden floor, but most of it had burned away, leaving bare earth.

“No wonder the inn almost burned down,” Colleen commented, picking up a newspaper and glancing at it briefly. “This place is a firetrap. We should get rid of all these newspapers immediately.”

“I want to get rid of everything,” Andrew said as they all found a place to stand at the foot of the stairs.

Peering out into the basement, Ned said, “So this is going to be a recreation room?”

Andrew unrolled the blueprint he carried and held it out so the others could see. “It's going to be more than that,” he said. “There's going to be a dance club, a snack bar, video game room, pool table, and a full-length bowling lane.”

Nancy looked over Andrew's shoulder at the neatly drawn blue lines. “Pretty impressive,” she told him. “Where do we start?”

“I want to get an inventory of what's down here, see if there's anything salvageable we should keep, and then figure out the best way to get this stuff up the stairs. Some of it's pretty big.”

“I think I see a piano,” Bess said. “We'll never get that up the stairs.”

“We can break up anything that's too heavy,” Andrew said. He bent down to pick up a hatchet from beneath the staircase. “I brought a half a dozen of these down for that earlier.”

Nancy took a winding path through the broken furniture and other debris. The basement seemed to go on and on, and the damp air still carried the burned-carbon smell of the long-ago fire.

After about twenty steps Nancy found that she couldn't go any farther. Her way was blocked by what looked like a makeshift wall of scraps of lumber, several dressers, and an old metal filing cabinet.

“That's strange,” she murmured, veering around the wall. It extended for three sides, with the permanent stone wall closing off the fourth.
“Hey, Andrew!” Nancy called. “Come look at this.”

He was still carrying the hatchet when he reached her, followed by Ned, Bess, and Colleen.

“I don't think this was part of the original floor plan,” Nancy joked, showing him the makeshift wall.

“And it's not part of the new plan, either,” Andrew said. “Let's chop it down. Stand back, everybody.”

As Andrew hacked away at the barricade, prying nailed boards, Nancy watched curiously. Someone must have erected it on purpose. But why? And when? Andrew had said the basement had been locked for fifty years.

A ragged opening appeared in the wall, and Andrew stopped so that Nancy could climb through it. It was a tiny space, maybe six feet square. A mattress with a crumpled blanket lumped on it lay on the earth floor beneath a transom window in the stone wall. Around the blanket were greasy wrappers from several fast-food restaurants, a pair of ripped jeans, and a few dirty T-shirts.

“The inn's already had a guest!” Nancy called through the opening to her friends. “And pretty recently, from the looks of it. There's not much dust gathered on this stuff.”

“But how could anyone have gotten in here?” Andrew asked, peeking in. “I'm the only one who
has a key to the basement, and there's no other way in.”

Nancy looked up at the transom window, which was tilted open. “Someone could have fit through there,” she said.

“They'd have to be pretty thin,” Andrew commented, “but I guess it's possible.”

“Maybe this is where Rosalie's ghost goes in her spare time,” Bess said with a nervous giggle.

“I doubt it,” Ned said, peering through the opening in the makeshift wall. “I've never heard of a ghost who eats Buddy Burgers.”

Nancy laughed, climbing back through the opening to rejoin her friends. “My guess is that it was a homeless person. Someone probably found his way up to the lake and spent a few nights here, that's all.”

“Or maybe he's still here,” Andrew put in. “That could be the explanation we've been looking for. Maybe the guy likes his free room and doesn't want us barging in on him.”

“It's possible,” Nancy admitted. “But if the person's been wandering around the inn, someone would have been sure to see him by now.”

Colleen pressed forward to the opening and scrutinized the small room. “Well, whoever he is, he'll be in for a nasty surprise if he comes back,” she said fiercely. “He has no right trespassing. I'll personally supervise the cleanup down here.”

“And I'll make sure he doesn't come back,”
Andrew added. “I'll have that window nailed closed right away.”

“Yo, Andrew!” called a familiar voice. Nancy heard steps on the stairs. A moment later Blaster appeared at the foot of the stairwell.

“What is it?” Andrew asked irritably.

Nancy noticed that Blaster's face didn't look as cocky and confident as it had yesterday. In fact, he looked seriously worried as he raked a hand over his razor-cut platinum hair.

“Uh-oh,” Andrew said. “Don't tell me more tools are missing.”

Master Blaster shuffled uncomfortably, kicking the toes of his sneakers against the hard-packed earth. “I think it would be better if I showed you,” he finally said. “Natalia Diaz has it, upstairs.”

Andrew threaded his way through the basement, pushed past Blaster, and ran up the stairs two at a time. Nancy and the others were right behind him.

“What is it?” Andrew asked breathlessly when they'd all reached the lobby. A group of teenagers stood near the basement door, surrounding a girl with shoulder-length black hair and amber skin. The girl clutched something in her hand.

“Show him, Natalia,” Blaster said grimly.

The girl's pretty face was anxious, and her hand trembled as she held out a scrap of paper to Andrew. “I found this upstairs,” she said in a faint voice.

Nancy gasped as she looked over Andrew's shoulder and saw the paper. It was splattered with blood and had a message scrawled on it in uneven letters:

The warnings are clear. Stay out of my inn. Leave the past alone, or the walls will come tumbling down!

A
NDREW READ THE NOTE
aloud, then crumpled it in his fist. “This can't be happening,” he groaned. “My father will kill me if he sees this.”

“Let me look at that again,” Nancy said, taking the note from Andrew's hand and smoothing it out. There was something odd about the blood, she realized. It was too thick and bright to be real.

“This looks like nail polish,” she murmured, chipping at the glossy red streak with her thumbnail. “Where did you find this, Natalia?”

The dark-haired girl nodded toward the stairs. “I was going into one of the rooms upstairs. It was wedged between the floorboards.”

“Was it hard to see?” Nancy asked.

Natalia shook her head no. “It was sticking straight up in the middle of the floor.”

Nancy exchanged a meaningful look with Ned and Bess. They'd inspected the upstairs rooms thoroughly last night, and none of them had seen any note. Whoever had left it must have returned to the inn after they'd left or come back early this morning. Or maybe the person had never left, Nancy thought, recalling the hidden room downstairs.

“Can I keep the note?” Nancy asked Andrew. “It might help me figure out what's going on.”

“Sure,” Andrew said with an unhappy shrug. “I don't want it.”

“Mrs. Morgan,” Natalia said, approaching Colleen, “I hope you won't think I'm a total wimp, but I'm not sure I want to be part of Teen Works anymore. This job's getting too dangerous.”

“I'm with her,” said the tall, lanky boy with cornrow braids. “If the walls come tumbling down, I don't want to be here when it happens.”

Colleen gave Andrew a concerned look. “I'm responsible for these kids,” she said. “I can't allow them to work in an unsafe environment.”

“I understand completely,” Andrew said. “I'm just as concerned as you are. But look—so far, no one's been hurt. I think the threats are aimed at the inn itself, not at anybody working here. Bear with me a little while longer, okay?”

“I'll have to leave it up to the kids,” Colleen
said. “If any of them want to leave, I can't stop them.”

Andrew's shoulders tensed. “Do what you want. But anyone who's working, get back to work.”

Nancy noticed some of the kids hesitate, but they all returned to their jobs. The renovation was still in business, at least for the moment. Andrew turned and strode through a small doorway to the right of the lobby.

“Andrew,” Nancy called, following him. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

He stood aside so Nancy could go through the door ahead of him. Nancy entered a small, messy office with stone walls and a desk piled high with papers. A circular file and a phone were balanced precariously on top of some of the papers. A large window looked out onto the driveway.

“Welcome to command central,” Andrew said glumly, sitting down behind the desk.

Nancy sat down on a folding chair in front of the desk. “I know you're getting tired of bad news,” she told Andrew, “but I have to tell you, this looks even worse than I thought yesterday. This is more than mischief. It looks to me like sabotage. Someone doesn't want you here, and they might not let up until you stop the renovation.”

Andrew took off his glasses and wearily rested his head in his hands. “The way things are going, I'd be better off if the inn never opened at all,” he
mumbled. “All these problems are putting me way over budget. My father's going to think I'm a moron. Maybe I
was
a moron for agreeing to do this project in the first place.”

“Stop blaming yourself. Someone else is doing this, not you,” Nancy said firmly. “Besides Julie, can you think of anyone else who might have some reason to get back at you or hurt you?”

Andrew lifted his head to look at her, his jaw clenched. “I've already said that Julie didn't do it. She's a sweet, gentle person.”

“Who must be pretty angry and hurt right now,” Nancy prodded gently.

“Sure she is. And I don't blame her one bit. I'm a wimp for not taking a stand with my father. I deserved for her to leave me,” Andrew said miserably. “But Julie's not destructive. I know she's not responsible for what's happening here.”

Nancy shot him a skeptical glance. “Then what was she doing at the inn?” she pressed.

With a deep sigh Andrew replied, “I wish I knew. And I wish she hadn't run away so I could tell her again how much I care about her.”

Nancy sympathized with him, but she knew that wasn't going to solve his problems. “Is there anyone else who might want to hurt you?”

“No one I can think of,” he told her.

“At any rate, I've got two more suspects,” Nancy said.

A spark of curiosity lit up Andrew's eyes. “The homeless person?” he guessed.

“That's one,” Nancy said. “If he's still around, that is. I'm going to go through the stuff downstairs and see if there are any clues to the person's identity.”

“Who's the other suspect?” Andrew asked.

“Master Blaster.”

Andrew looked at Nancy in surprise. “Really? Why would he want to sabotage me?”

“I don't know,” Nancy admitted. “But it was weird that he didn't react yesterday when someone turned off his tape. And he seemed really nervous when I caught him in that back hallway.” Getting to her feet, she said, “I'm going to start checking out some of these leads.”

“Keep me posted,” Andrew said, giving her a weary smile.

Leaving the office, Nancy went looking for Bess. She found her in the dining room, next to the ballroom. It, too, was a cavernous room with a high ceiling and a fireplace that was large enough for a person to stand in. On either side of the fireplace, glass doors led out to a stone patio overlooking the lake. Several sets of sawhorses were scattered throughout the dining room, where teenage workers in goggles were cutting through copper pipes with electric saws.