Trail of Lies (9 page)

He looked back, then stopped when he saw her.

“I want to talk to you,” she said when she reached him.

“What about?” he asked warily.

“Did you have anything to do with spooking those dogs?” Nancy asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

John's mouth dropped open. “No!” he cried. His shock seemed genuine. “I heard the shot, but I don't know where it came from.”

“The shot?” Nancy repeated. “Lindsay thought someone cracked a whip.”

“It sounded like a shot to me,” John said.

“What
are
you doing here, John?” Nancy asked. “I didn't know you were interested in dogsledding.”

“I like Steve,” he said with a touch of defiance. “I wanted to see him win.”

Despite his answer, something was making John nervous. Nancy decided to try direct confrontation. “What are you hiding?” she demanded.

John stared at her, and she could see him wavering. Then his eyes dropped to the ground. “Nothing,” he insisted in a low voice.

“I don't believe you,” Nancy said bluntly. “You've been acting like a man with a secret. First you acted really strangely in the phone closet, even though no one could hear a word you were saying. Then you tried to hide the letter someone delivered to you. And what about when you spilled that hot cherry liqueur on me? Was that really an accident?”

John gaped at her. “Of course it was! Look, I was nervous,” he admitted. “That was the first time I heard that you were a detective, and it rattled me.”

“Why?” Nancy asked.

At first John didn't answer. Then he said slowly, “I thought you might be investigating me. I was afraid of losing my job.”

“Like you did the last one?” Nancy said softly.

John's face whitened. “How'd you find out about that?”

“I'm a detective, remember.” Nancy took a step closer to John. “I wasn't investigating you. But I think you'd be much better off if you told me the whole story now.”

John bowed his head. His whole body seemed to sag as he began speaking.

“I have a kid brother who got involved with a rough crowd in Fairbanks,” he said. “That's where we used to live. Jim started gambling, lost a lot of money, and—well, it's a long story, but he got desperate. There's no excuse, and I know it, but . . .” John paused and kicked at the snow.

“But?” Nancy prompted gently.

John took a deep breath. “He—he stole some money from his boss. Of course he got caught and went to prison, and there was some publicity. I couldn't stand it, so I left Fairbanks and went to Seward. I thought I'd start a new life, only it didn't work out that way. I got a job, but when they checked into my past they found out about Jim.” He lifted his hands in a sad gesture. “So they fired me. Told me not to ask for references.”

“That's not fair,” Nancy said indignantly. “You shouldn't be punished for your brother's crime.”

“You're telling me!” John's voice was bitter. “But what could I do? I tried getting a job at a few other places in Seward, but no one would hire me—I guess the word had spread.”

“So you came to Anchorage,” Nancy guessed.

“So I came to Anchorage,” he confirmed. “I was careful this time, and I didn't tell Mr. Wilcox about my brother. I warned Jim to send his letters to a friend so Mr. Wilcox would never see the prison return address. And when I call my brother, I try not to let anyone know about it.”

“You shouldn't have worried,” Nancy began, but John wasn't listening to her.

“Then you came,” he said, and frowned. “When I heard you were a detective, I thought Mr. Wilcox had hired you to check on my background. I panicked.”

Nancy nodded. “I believe you,” she said, “but I think you'd better tell Mr. Wilcox the truth.”

“I guess I have to,” John reluctantly agreed. They headed for the parking lot. Steve and Craig were loading the last of the dogs onto the truck. The sled was waiting to be strapped on top.

“Hi, everybody,” Nancy called. Her grin faded at the sight of George's face. Though her friend tried to smile, she couldn't hide the distress in her eyes.

“Is something wrong?” Nancy asked quietly.

George's nod was almost imperceptible. “Later,” she murmured.

The boys climbed down from the truck, and Nancy walked over to Steve, holding out her hand. “I never got to congratulate you,” she said.

He took her hand and shook it. “I told you I'd win,” he said with a grin. It was the first time Steve had been friendly to Nancy.

When Nancy and George got into the car, George was quiet, her expression grave.

“Oh, Nancy, I can't believe it.” George's voice was low and angry.

Nancy looked at her. “What's wrong?”

George's dark eyes were sad. “Steve did it. He's the one who spooked Lindsay's team.”

“What do you mean?” Nancy demanded. “How do you know he did it?”

George exhaled slowly before telling Nancy, “I found a whip hidden on his sled!”

A
WHIP
?” For a moment Nancy's heart sank. Then she realized what was wrong with George's idea. “But if Steve had used a whip, we'd have seen it. It's not something we could have missed.”

George looked as though she wanted to believe Nancy, but she was still skeptical. “If he wasn't going to use it, why was it hidden on the sled?”

Nancy shrugged. “I don't know. I think we ought to ask Steve that question, don't you?”

When they reached the house, Nancy and George found Steve in the den, watching television.

“Where's Craig?” Nancy asked.

“He's putting the dogs back in the barn, and
then he's going to sleep.” Steve's reply was curt. “Remember that he works at my esteemed father's establishment most nights,” he added sarcastically.

Nancy switched off the television and turned to face Steve. Confrontation had worked with John. Maybe it would work with Steve, too.

“Did you spook Lindsay's team?” she asked bluntly.

Steve jumped to his feet. “What? No way!” he cried.

“Why did you have a whip on your sled if you didn't plan to use it?” George asked quietly.

Steve whirled around. “What are you talking about?” he demanded. “What whip?”

“You didn't hide it very well, Steve.” George's look was anguished. “I found it in the sled basket, close enough to the handlebar that you could have reached it without any trouble.”

For a second Steve was silent, a muscle in his jaw flexing. Finally he spoke. “Let me say three things. Number one, I didn't hide any whip. Two, I didn't reach for any whip. Three, I didn't
use
any whip. That's all there is to it.”

“Steve, it's not that simple,” Nancy answered. “When you got to the last lap, Lindsay was ahead. Her team would have won—except that the dogs were driven off the track by the
sound of a cracking whip. We all heard it. Now, you told everyone you were going to win the trial. Also, you know that her team goes wild at the sound of a whip.
And
a whip was found on your sled. You've got to admit, there's a pretty strong case against you.”

“Very nice logic, Miss Detective,” Steve snapped. “You've got it all figured out, haven't you? But you're wrong. I had nothing to do with it. And I don't need to prove myself to you.”

“I—I believe you, Steve,” George spoke up, and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “But do you have any idea how that whip got onto your sled?”

Steve shrugged. “I don't know. I haven't used a whip at all this season. Lindsay gave me a hard time about it all last year, and then Amanda started in, too. I finally gave up and told Craig to throw the thing away. It wasn't worth all the grief.”

“There's something else I want to ask you,” Nancy said to Steve.

“Should I call my attorney?” he demanded sarcastically. “After that last question, you'll probably accuse me of being the smuggler.”

George gasped. “You don't believe that, do you, Nancy?”

Now Nancy knew she was treading on very delicate ground. Instead of answering the question directly, she turned to Steve. “I'd like
to know why you quit your job at Wilcox Shipping.”

Steve's face darkened with anger. “Why don't you ask my father?”

“He told me to ask you,” she responded evenly.

Steve spun around and stared into the fireplace. “It's no secret that my father and I don't agree on a lot of things,” he said over his shoulder. “He wants me to carry on the family business. He doesn't care that I'm not interested in the shipping industry. I want to race dogs professionally. But to him, they're only a hobby.”

“I'm sure he cares. It's just that—” George began, but Nancy hushed her. She wanted to hear Steve's side of the story.

“For a while we worked out a compromise,” Steve went on. “Dad hired Craig to help with the dogs, and I took a job at the company.” Nancy saw his fists clench. “I tried,” he said in a tight voice. “I really did, but I hated it. I'm just not cut out to work in an office.”

“Many people aren't,” Nancy commented.

“Dad didn't see it that way,” Steve said bitterly.

George took his hand in hers. “So what happened?” she urged.

“Oh, I messed up a couple of the accounts. It was bound to happen—I just can't do that kind of stuff. Anyway, Dad and I had a big
fight. I left the company. And I can tell you this, I'm never going back. I don't want anything to do with Wilcox Shipping.” Defiantly, Steve concluded, “If you've got any more questions, save them, because I've had enough for today.”

He walked out of the room. George bit her lip as she watched him go.

“Oh, Nancy, he's not a criminal,” she burst out when the door had closed behind Steve. “He just needs someone to tell him he's not a loser. Did you have to push him so hard?”

Nancy sighed. “I needed answers, George,” she said patiently. “I got some. But there are still a few questions I'd like to ask Steve.” Like what he meant when he said I'd “mess up everything,” she added to herself.

“He's not a criminal,” George repeated. Her lips set in a stubborn line. “I know it. And I know you'll find the same thing.”

“I really do hope you're right,” Nancy told her friend sincerely.

George went after Steve to see if she could talk to him. Nancy walked to the telephone closet. She still had to find Amanda.

After calling the shipping company's offices, Nancy found out that Amanda Spear had called in sick. There was no answer at her apartment, however. Then Nancy phoned Lindsay.

“No, I haven't seen Amanda since right before the trials,” Lindsay said.

“Before the trials? You mean she was there?” Nancy asked, surprised. “I didn't see her.”

“Well, she was at the starting line, but she must have left pretty quickly. I looked for her afterward, but I couldn't find her,” Lindsay said. “She sure has been acting weird lately.”

“Thanks, Lindsay. Listen, I've got to go,” Nancy said. She hung up and came out of the phone closet. So Amanda had been at the trials. What significance did that fact have?

Nancy's head was beginning to ache. She took a deep breath and stretched. The movement made all her bruises ache again and reminded her of what she'd been through in the last two days.

Maybe I'll just lie down on the couch in the den and think for a little while, she decided. There's not much I can do until Dad and Mr. Wilcox get back, anyway. And I'm so tired!

Going into the den, she closed the door quietly behind her and stretched out on the couch. I'll just shut my eyes for a minute, she told herself. Just for a minute . . .

• • •

Nancy woke with a start at the sound of a door slamming. Then she heard the voices of her father and Henry Wilcox. Peering groggily
at her watch, she realized that it was almost six o'clock. She had slept the afternoon away! Shaking her head, she went upstairs to wash her face before dinner.

At dinner Nancy learned only that the interview with Detective Chandler hadn't had any results one way or the other. Carson Drew and Henry Wilcox weren't saying more—they made a determined effort to keep the conversation light.

Carson regaled Nancy and George with tales of his day. “Now I know how the other half lives,” he said, grinning at Henry. “My friend here told me he had business in Juneau, so we took his company plane, and off we went to the capital for the afternoon. Tomorrow we're going to Fairbanks.”

Henry laughed. “It isn't that unusual to have a private plane in Alaska. We have so few roads here that planes are sometimes the only means of transportation.”

“Almost as good as dog sleds,” Steve said. Nancy suspected he was trying to needle his father.