The Secret at Solaire (12 page)

Nancy awoke to the raucous howling of coyotes. At first, she heard the high-pitched yips in the distance, as if the animals were far up in the mountains. Then the calls grew closer. It sounded as if there were hundreds of them.

“They must be partying tonight,” Kim said with a smile. “According to some of the Native American traditions, Coyote is a trickster, capable of working magic.”

“I wish he'd work some magic on Heather,” George grumbled.

The animals' howls grew louder and louder. Nancy listened, fascinated by the strange, wild
sound. Sometimes the coyotes all sang together. Other times, one started and the others joined in. Occasionally, the coyotes seemed to be singing a call and response.

“It sounds as if they're surrounding the house,” Alain said.

“This may be the perfect time for us to start breaking out of here,” Nancy said. “If all we can hear is coyotes, then there's a good chance that that's what Heather's hearing, too. Let's just hope they keep howling.”

“I think we've got a better chance of avoiding Heather if we work our way through the ceiling,” George said. “If we go through the door, we'll definitely wake her.”

“Right,” Alain said. After determining the farthest point from the basement door, he stood on the chair and used the end of the crowbar to pull gently at the wooden floorboards. Kim and Nancy carried the table over beside him. Then George got up on the table, and using the hammer's claw, she began to help Alain pry the boards loose.

The two worked slowly, taking care to make as little noise as possible. It'll be morning before they're done, Nancy worried. By the time they were ready to climb out, Heather would be wide awake and eating breakfast. At least the coyotes were still howling.

Finally, Alain and George removed three of
the wooden boards. “Who wants to go first?” Alain whispered.

“I will,” Nancy volunteered. Alain boosted her up between two floor beams, and she emerged into the tiny kitchen. At least there were windows, and moonlight was streaming in.

Nancy knelt by the hole in the floor and reached out to help Kim up, then George. Alain boosted himself through a few moments later.

Nancy glanced around the room. There were dishes piled in the old-fashioned sink and a small table in the corner. On top of the table were more dishes, some tools, and a kerosene lamp.

“There's a back door,” Nancy whispered, leading the way.

She was just turning the knob when a voice behind them said, “You mustn't be in such a hurry to go. I suggest you all stay right where you are, or this whole place goes up in flames.”

Nancy froze in her tracks. It was Heather. Their luck had just run out. With a sinking heart, she heard another match being struck.

“Now, I want all of you to be still,” Heather ordered. “Not a single move.”

Nancy and the others did as they were told.

Heather stood there, holding the kerosene lamp with one hand. In her other hand was the
burning match. “I'm going to spill the kerosene,” she said in a low, menacing voice. “And then set this place on fire. I don't care if we
all
die. My life isn't worth living anymore, anyway.”

“Heather—” Alain began.

Suddenly, the match went out. Heather cried out in annoyance and reached for her pocket.

Seeing her chance, Nancy sprang forward, followed immediately by Alain, Kim, and George. Nancy grabbed the deranged girl's wrist, but Heather swung out at Nancy with her other arm, knocking the lamp against Nancy's head. Nancy felt a dull pain in her head as the sickening smell of kerosene assaulted her nostrils. Then the moonlight began to fade as Nancy crumpled to the floor.

The next thing Nancy knew, the bright glare of headlights was flashing through the window. Where am I? she thought. Vaguely, she heard George calling her name. Then she realized that her friend was kneeling over her.

“Nancy,” George said anxiously. “Are you okay?”

Nancy nodded, touching her throbbing head. “I think so,” she said. Then she frowned, remembering. “Where's Heather?”

“She's right here,” Alain called from the corner of the kitchen. “And it's all over. I've got her pinned.”

Then Nancy heard the sound of car doors slamming, and Hank Meader's voice filled the room, funneled through a megaphone.

“Heather,” he called, his voice pleading. “I want you to come outside.”

“No!” the blind girl shouted, struggling against Alain.

Hank's voice nearly broke. “Heather, the police are here. They've got the house surrounded. You've got to come out now, honey.”

Nancy quickly looked out the window. “It's true,” she told Heather, relief in her voice. “There are four police cars out there, and the officers are on their way in.”

The blind girl's shoulders slumped as the door to the house opened.

“Heather!”

The girl turned at the sound of her father's voice, and Nancy was glad Heather couldn't see that he was handcuffed to the police officer who'd brought him in.

Bess rushed past them. “Nan, George, are you all right?” she cried. “I'm sorry it took us so long. The police were staking out Hank's house at Solaire, but he never showed up. For a while, we didn't think he'd come back to the spa, either. But one of the horses was sick, and it wouldn't let anyone else near it. Hank sneaked back to give it its medication.”

“And that's when the police caught him?” Kim asked.

Bess nodded. “He confessed to everything—all the sabotage at the spa, even the black widow spider. Hank trapped Nancy in the mission, too, and put her in the stagecoach. And, of course, he's guilty of kidnapping. He said he forced Kim to write that letter saying she was going to Phoenix. He also made her call her mother, just as you thought, Nancy.”

Nancy looked at Hank. He was holding his now-sobbing daughter with his one free arm, trying to comfort her. “Please go easy on her,” he said to the police. “Ever since she lost her sight, she hasn't been the same.”

Another officer stepped forward and said, “We'll need the rest of you to follow us to the station house for statements.”

The first police officer then began to lead Hank and Heather to a squad car. Heather mumbled something inaudible as she walked away. It sounded to Nancy as if the girl had said, “It's not over yet.”

“Wait a minute!” Nancy called, looking suspiciously at the Sinclairs.

Hank stopped and turned to look at her.

“Tomorrow is Solaire's kickoff party for the new cosmetics line,” she said. “Did you also have a little trick planned for that?”

Hank shook his head, but his daughter's sobbing suddenly turned into hysterical laughter. “Why don't you all go to the party and find out?” she said with an evil grin.

Nancy yawned as she opened the door to the casita. It was nearly four in the morning. She, George, Bess, Kim, and Alain had been at the police station for hours while charges were filed against Hank and his daughter.

“What a night!” George said, flopping down on her bed. “I can't wait to go to sleep.”

“I don't know if I
can
sleep,” Bess said. “I feel sorry for Hank and Heather. I mean, I know what they were doing was wrong and had to be stopped, but they never would have done any of that if they hadn't been so badly hurt in the first place.”

Nancy nodded. “I'm sure the judge will take that into consideration.” She looked at Bess curiously. “Does this mean you believe the Roziers are responsible for the whole Jeunesse scandal?”

Bess looked uncomfortable. “I'm still not sure Jacqueline was involved, but from what Alain told the police, it seems pretty definite that Laurent was.” She sighed. “When I think of all the Solaire products I sold, and how I told everyone how great they were . . . ”

“Don't feel bad,” Nancy said, putting an arm around her friend's shoulder. “Solaire products may be perfectly safe. The regulations in this country are pretty strict. Besides, Laurent doesn't strike me as the kind of man who makes the same mistake twice. Try to get some sleep,” Nancy added. “We'll sort it all out in the morning.”

• • •

Morning came all too soon. Barely three hours later, at seven
A.M
., bright spring sunshine streamed into the casita. Outside, the quail and doves were making nearly as much noise as the coyotes had the night before.

Nancy stretched in her bed, planning to go back to sleep. Then she sat bolt upright. She couldn't sleep. She had to tell the Roziers to cancel the promotional party. So far, all the acts of sabotage at the spa had been Hank's. But Nancy had a feeling that whatever was scheduled to happen at the party, if anything, was Heather's plan. And Heather seemed more dangerous than her father.

Nancy got up, took a quick shower, and
hurriedly got dressed. She left the casita quietly.

She was halfway to the office when she saw a sleepy figure stumbling toward the gym. “Alain!” she called.

He turned, rubbed his eyes, and gave her a brusque nod. “You'll forgive me if I don't make polite conversation on three hours of sleep.”

“Are you actually going to the
gym
now?” Nancy asked in disbelief.

He shrugged. “I'm late for a stretch class. I can't very well leave a gym full of guests to entertain themselves.” He continued on for a few steps, then stopped in his tracks. “Where are
you
going?” he asked suspiciously. “Don't tell me you got up for my stretch class.”

“I'm going to talk to the Roziers,” Nancy answered.

Alain caught her by the arm. “Listen to me,” he said. “Please. I know you want to warn them about whatever it is that Heather might have planned for the kickoff party. That's fine. But please don't accuse Laurent of being Pierre Dennon.”

“Why not?” Nancy asked indignantly. “He
is
Pierre Dennon. And because of him, Heather is blind and she and her father are going to jail.”

“If you march into his office with those accusations, you'll force Laurent to shut you
up,” Alain said. “You've already put yourself in enough danger. Let the police handle it. They'll be interrogating the Roziers.”

“How are American police going to prosecute a crime that took place in France years ago?” Nancy asked.

Alain shrugged. “There's extradition. And even if that doesn't apply in this case, there are other means for making Pierre Dennon pay.” Alain suddenly stopped talking as another spa staff member passed by. “I have to go,” he said. “Good luck. And be careful.”

“I will,” Nancy promised. She crossed the courtyard and entered the office, where she asked to speak to Laurent.

“He's with Jacqueline,” the receptionist replied. “Let me tell them you're here.”

A few minutes later, Nancy was ushered into Jacqueline's office. Jacqueline sat at her desk, dressed in an immaculately tailored white linen suit. Laurent stood beside her, wearing an elegant black suit over a white T-shirt. Together, they looked like an advertisement for designer clothing.

No, Nancy thought. What they are is an advertisement for wealth and beauty. People are supposed to come to Solaire to look just like them. Everyone is supposed to think the two of them are perfect. But, Nancy reminded herself,
Laurent was responsible for blinding at least one person and doing damage to who knows how many others. And she had a feeling that Jacqueline had helped him cover it up.

“Bonjour
, Mademoiselle Drew,” Laurent said. “How can we help you?”

“Have the police called you?” Nancy asked.

“Indeed,” Jacqueline said. “We will be going down to the station later today to press charges against Hank for the sabotage. I am so sorry that you were inconvenienced last night. But, you see, everything has worked out, as I told you it would.” She flashed Nancy a dazzling white smile. “There's no longer any reason to worry.”

“I don't think the sabotage is over,” Nancy said. “Last night, when the police arrested Heather, she hinted at other plans for today's party. You've got to call the whole thing off.”

“That's impossible,” Laurent said. “The press and some of our most important clients are coming in from New York and L.A. We can't possibly cancel.”

“Are you willing to risk someone else's being hurt?” Nancy asked.

“No one else will be hurt,” Laurent said firmly. “We will take extra security precautions.”

“Your security didn't stop the other accidents,” Nancy pointed out.

“Ms. Drew,” Jacqueline said. “Clearly, this is not your concern. Now, my husband and I have business to discuss. If you will be so kind as to leave us—”

“You don't care,” Nancy said quietly. “You don't care about your guests. Or about the truth. The only thing you care about is your perfect image.”

Laurent stood up. “Would you like me to escort you out, Mademoiselle Drew?”

“That's all right,” Nancy told him. “I can find my own way, thank you very much.”

• • •

“And I thought
we
were early for the party,” George said as she, Bess, and Nancy entered the spa's Ocotillo Hall. The large, airy room was already crowded with people. Guests, staff members, and reporters were all mingling together, many of them drawn to the picture windows that looked out over the mountains. Vases filled with fresh-cut flowers were everywhere, and large wooden tables displayed the new Solaire cosmetics. Other tables were covered with southwestern food specialties.

“Now
they feed us,” Max Harper muttered, as he piled his dish high with hors d'oeuvres. “I'm going to go up to that reporter there and tell him what the normal menu is around here.”

“Oh, Max, I'm sure they know this isn't a
regular spa meal,” said his wife, smiling. “You
did
lose four pounds, you know.” She leaned forward and kissed her husband. “It's healthier for you, and you look very handsome.”