Nobody's Business

  “Same difference,” Blaster said. “I spent a lot of time putting those together. I don’t want anybody else to get their hands on them.”

  Nancy took the “Haunted House” tape out of the player and showed it to Blaster. “We know that someone is trying to scare us away from the place, and twice now we’ve heard ghostly noises inside the inn,” she said. “If these tapes match the sounds we’ve heard, you’re going to look guilty. If they don’t, it will help clear you.”

  “I don’t need to be cleared!” Blaster shouted. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

  “Then prove it,” Ned challenged him. “Let us listen to the tape.”

  Master Blaster stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Fine,” he said hotly. “I’ve got nothing to hide. Go ahead and play it.”

  Nancy once more loaded the “Haunted House” tape into her player. Her heart started to beat faster as she pressed the Play button.

  “Aaaaaaaaaaagh!” The tormented cry filled Nancy’s car, giving Nancy a creepy feeling. The wails sounded just like the ones they’d all heard the first day at the inn.

  “Sound familiar, Ned?” Nancy asked.

  “Very,” he replied, nodding.

  Master Blaster’s face turned bright red. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

  Nancy pressed the Stop button and faced the deejay squarely. “Where were you last night, around ten o’clock?” she asked.

  “What difference does it make?” Blaster demanded.

  “Because that’s when we heard some of these sound effects,” she answered. “Right before a white sheet came flying off the balcony in the ballroom, rigged to look like a ghost.”

  Blaster looked from Nancy to Ned, then started to laugh. “Give me a break,” he scoffed. “Who’d pull a stupid trick like that?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t remember,” Ned said. “You must have set it up yourself, right after you turned on the stereo.”

  The deejay held up his hands defensively. “Look, man, I wasn’t anywhere near the inn last night!”

  “That’s funny, because your tapes were,” Nancy shot back.

  “Well, someone must have borrowed them, like you just tried to,” Blaster contended. “They could have made copies and put the originals back when I wasn’t looking.”

  He was putting on a good show of innocence, Nancy had to admit. But that didn’t change the fact that he’d acted suspiciously after some of the accidents. Pressing the Eject button, she put the tape in its box and gave it to Blaster.

  “Why are you so determined to blame me for something I didn’t do?” Blaster demanded, taking the cassette. “I know you’ve been talking to my grandmother. Well, I’m warning you now. Stay away from her!”

  Ned leaned across Nancy to say, “What are you so afraid of, Blaster? That we’ll find out the truth about you? Like the fact that you used to go out with Julie Ross?”

  Blaster hesitated, then said angrily, “My personal life is none of your business.”

  “It is when it could explain all the trouble going on here,” Nancy said. “Maybe you’re jealous of Andrew because he took Julie away from you. Sabotaging his renovation project would be a good way of getting back at him.”

  Blaster gaped at her. “Why would I want to do that?” he demanded. “Andrew promised me I can be the deejay at the dance club here when the inn opens. It’s not big time or anything, but it would be a good start for my career.”

  Nancy fell silent. He had a good point, and she doubted he was lying—he had to know she could easily check his story with Andrew. Still, that didn’t let him off the hook completely.

  Giving Master Blaster a hard look, Nancy asked, “Then what were you doing by the back door Monday afternoon, right after we heard the ghost noises? And don’t tell me you were just getting some air.”

  Blaster drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. After a long silence he admitted, “I was trying to decide what to do about the fact that I’d just seen my ex-girlfriend running away from the inn. Yes, I saw Julie. I saw her the second time, too, right after Ned fell.”

  Nancy nodded. That explained the clay on the light switch and the wall.

  “If you saw her, why didn’t you say anything?” Ned asked.

  “Even if she’s the one causing the trouble, I didn’t want to turn her in,” Blaster answered with a guilty look. “I still care about her, even after everything she did to me. Oh, why am I even bothering to explain anything to you? I can see you don’t believe me.”

  With a disgusted look at Nancy and Ned, Blaster turned and stalked back to the inn.

  “You don’t really believe him, do you, Nan?” Ned asked when Blaster had disappeared inside.

  “I don’t know,” Nancy said. “I think he’s telling the truth about having seen Julie. That would explain why he was so nervous when I asked him what he saw the day he was up in the alcove.”

  As she and Ned got out of the Mustang, Ned said, “I guess things don’t look good for Julie now, do they?”

  Nancy shook her head. “I still want to check out Guy Lewis and his connection to Colleen Morgan, too,” she said. “Come on. Let’s go find Andrew. I want to use his phone to call Chief McGinnis.”

  When they got inside the inn, they didn’t see Andrew, or anyone else for that matter, on the first floor. Finally Nancy and Ned found Andrew, Bess, Colleen, and what looked like the entire Teen Works crew in the basement.

  At first it looked as if there was more junk piled up in the basement than there’d been the day before. Then Nancy noticed that only the area near the bottom of the stairs was crowded with old furniture and newspapers. The rest of the basement was nearly empty.

  “We’ve got a good system going,” Andrew explained, spotting Nancy and Ned. “It’s like a bucket brigade. Once we get everything near the stairs, we’re going to pass it up hand to hand. We ought to be finished by the time the haulers get here after lunch. Then we’ll be on schedule to pour the concrete floor in the morning.”

  Nancy was relieved to see that Andrew still seemed dedicated to keeping the renovation going. Maybe she’d been wrong to think he was sabotaging the inn to get the insurance money.

  “Listen, I’ll come down and help you move stuff in a few minutes,” she told Andrew. “Meanwhile, could I use the phone in your office, Andrew? I’ve got to make a quick call.”

  “Sure,” Andrew said.

  Nancy hurried back up the stairs to the lobby, entered Andrew’s office, and closed the door behind her. Seconds later she was dialing the number of the River Heights police headquarters.

  “Hello, Nancy,” Chief McGinnis greeted her warmly when the call was put through to him. “Don’t tell me you’re on another case.”

  “It must be fate,” Nancy joked. “But listen, I was wondering if you could check somebody out for me. His name’s Guy Lewis. He graduated from Bentley High School in 1977.”

  Nancy explained about the sabotage and pranks at the inn and told the chief about finding evidence that Lewis may have been there recently.

  “I’ll have to run a check and get back to you,” Chief McGinnis told her.

  “Could you also check out a woman named Colleen Morgan or Colleen O’Herlihy?” Nancy asked.

  There was a long pause before the police chief inquired, “You mean the wife of Frederick Morgan, as in Morgan Lumber, Morgan Steel, Morgan Financial Services . . . ?”

  “That’s the one. It looks as if she went to high school with Lewis. Not that that necessarily means anything, but if there’s any connection between them, I’d like to know what it is.”

  “I’ll put someone on this right away,” Chief McGinnis said. “Where do you want me to call you with the information?”

  Nancy thought for a moment. “I’ll call you,” she decided. “Colleen Morgan’s working here at the inn. I don’t want to risk her overhearing me. Why don’t I try you in an hour or two?”

  “Good enough,” the chief agreed. “We shou
ld have something by then.”

  After thanking him, Nancy hung up. When she returned to the basement, everyone was moving the last of the furniture to the base of the stairs.

  Nancy wanted to ask Andrew whether he’d really offered Blaster the deejay job, but Blaster was right next to him, helping him move a dresser. Seeing Bess and Natalia Diaz struggling to carry a fire-blackened mattress from a pile of them at the back of the basement, Nancy went over to help. They dumped it near some others near the stairs, then returned to the back wall for another.

  “Phew,” Nancy said as she grabbed one end of the mattress. “This thing stinks.”

  Wrinkling up her nose, Bess added, “From the smell down here, you’d think the fire happened yesterday instead of fifty years ago.”

  “My eyes are watering,” Natalia put in. “The first thing Andrew should do once we clear out this stuff is fumigate the place.”

  Nancy’s eyes were beginning to water, too, and her throat felt dry. There was a choking, bitter smell in the air.

  Suddenly she paused and cocked her head. “Do you smell something?” Nancy asked Bess and Natalia.

  Natalia nodded. “It’s getting hard to breathe. And it’s getting hot in here, too.”

  “It’s the exercise,” Bess said, grunting under the weight of the mattress. “All this heavy lifting is making us burn calories faster—”

  “I don’t think so,” Nancy interrupted. She dropped her corner of the mattress, a feeling of dread welling up in the pit of her stomach. A moment later she pointed in horror at the huge pile of broken wooden furniture directly between them and the stairwell.

  A thick plume of choking, black smoke rose from the pile, rapidly filling the basement. Already the other teens in the basement were coughing and rubbing their eyes.

  As Nancy watched, the huge pile of furniture erupted into flames. Almost instantly everything was awash in a searing orange blaze.

  “Let’s get out of here!” Nancy cried.

  She pulled Bess and Natalia toward the stairs, but their way was blocked by a wall of rapidly spreading flames. The other teens were scrambling around the burning debris, too, looking for an escape route.

  Within seconds the fire had completely engulfed the base of the stairs, and Nancy realized the awful truth.

  They were trapped in an underground inferno, and there was no way out!

  Chapter

  Thirteen

  WE’RE GOING TO DIE!” Bess cried. The other teenagers started screaming, too.

  Nancy’s eyes and lungs were burning, but she tried to remain calm. “Stay low, everybody!” she yelled. “And keep your nose and mouth covered!”

  As the others obeyed, Nancy squinted through the heavy smoke. If she didn’t find some way out, they’d all be fried to a crisp in minutes.

  “I never should have piled all that stuff in front of the stairs!” Andrew yelled from close by. His black hair was plastered to his sweat-soaked forehead, and his round glasses reflected twin orange flames. “What an idiot I was!”

  Coughing, Nancy searched desperately for an escape route. The flames extended all the way around the stairs, but she saw that some parts of the fire burned higher than others. The flames rising from the damp, moldy mattresses were only a foot or so high.

  “That’s it!” Nancy exclaimed, picking up the mattress she, Bess, and Natalia Diaz had dropped. “We’ll make a pathway.”

  “What are you talking about?” Bess asked.

  “We’ve still got a bunch of mattresses we haven’t moved yet,” Nancy told her, pointing to the ones piled against the stone wall. “We can drop them over the burning mattresses. That should smother the flames long enough for us to get out of here.”

  “Good idea,” Ned said, then broke into a cough as smoke filled his lungs. “Everybody, grab a mattress!”

  Nancy, Bess, and Natalia dumped their mattress on a smoldering pile near the stairs. Then some of the other teens laid their mattresses upright on either side, making a temporary protective wall. When two more mattresses were down, they formed a path to the stairs.

  “Now run!” Nancy cried out, urging the others over the lumpy, hot mattresses. When everyone had gone ahead, she and Andrew brought up the rear. Just as she made it to the bottom step, the pile of mattresses burst into flame.

  Nancy nearly scorched her hand as it came to rest for a split second against the metal banister. Jerking it away, she scrambled up the stairs and staggered into the lobby.

  Gasping for breath, she ran for Andrew’s office so she could call the fire department. Before she even got to Andrew’s door, however, she heard the wail of approaching sirens outside.

  Was the fire department really on its way already? Nancy wondered, pausing. How could that be? The fire had started just a few minutes ago, and everyone at the inn had been stuck in the basement. Who had alerted the fire fighters?

  Joining the sweaty, red-faced crowd rushing for the front door, Nancy saw two bright red fire trucks just pulling up the curved driveway.

  “I don’t believe it!” Andrew cried, standing on the front doorstep of the inn. “How did they know?”

  “That’s what I was wondering,” Nancy said as the fire trucks screeched to a halt and a dozen fire fighters in black raincoats, helmets, and rubber boots jumped out.

  “It’s in the basement,” Andrew directed them as they rushed inside. “Follow me.” After instructing the Teen Works crew to remain outside, he followed the fire fighters inside.

  For a few minutes Nancy wandered through the crowd, looking for Ned and Bess. But before she found her friends, Nancy spotted a familiar mass of brown curls with a copper streak.

  Julie Ross was rushing through the chaos of fire fighters and distraught teenagers. Tears were streaming down her grief-stricken face. “Andrew!” she called, her voice breaking. “Where are you?”

  It seemed obvious that Julie still cared about Andrew. She must have come running from the boutique the second she heard the sirens. But then Nancy remembered Julie’s angry words the first time she’d spoken to her at the crafts store: “I hope that old dump burns to the ground.”

  Nancy frowned, wondering if it could be mere coincidence that Julie was so close to the inn just minutes after a fire started. Even if she’d been at her boutique nearby and had smelled smoke, she couldn’t possibly have gotten to the inn so fast. Maybe Julie’s display of concern for Andrew was just an act to cover up the fact that she was the one to start the fire.

  Just as Nancy was about to follow Julie, someone grabbed her arm. She turned to see Ned standing there, a relieved look on his face.

  “The fire’s out,” he told her.

  “Already?” Nancy asked. She checked over her shoulder and saw that Julie was still milling in the crowd outside the inn. Nancy resolved to keep her within eyesight.

  Ned nodded. “Fortunately for Andrew, it was contained in that one area and didn’t spread,” he told her. “The fire fighters were able to douse it pretty quickly.”

  More sirens echoed through the bare trees, and three Melborne Township police cars pulled up the driveway alongside the fire trucks. Half a dozen officers got out.

  A tall female officer and her partner, a beefy red-haired man, got out of the car nearest the inn’s entrance. “Andrew Lockwood?” the female officer called.

  Andrew appeared in the front entrance of the inn, his sweatshirt sooty and his glasses fogged with smoke. “I’m Andrew Lockwood.”

  “I’m Lieutenant Oscarson. I’d like to ask you a few questions,” the female officer said, taking out a leather-bound notepad. “Are you the owner of this place?”

  Andrew walked down the steps and paused a few feet away from Lieutenant Oscarson. “My father is. I’m renovating it for him.”

  “Yet you’ve taken out an accident insurance policy on the inn in your name, with yourself as the beneficiary?” the lieutenant inquired.

  Andrew took off his glasses and began wiping them nervously on his sweatshirt. “Uh .
. . that was my father’s idea,” he said. “He wants to give me the inn after it’s finished. I know how it must look. . . .”

  Lieutenant Oscarson fixed Andrew with a stern glare. “About fifteen minutes ago we got an anonymous tip telling us there was a fire at the inn and that the fire was arson,” she told him. “We were also told that you’d recently increased your insurance policy. That makes you our prime suspect.”

  Andrew’s eyes grew wide with panic. “That’s not true!” he protested. “I mean, I did increase my coverage, but I didn’t start this fire.”

  “I can vouch for him,” Ned said, looking straight at the police officer. “I was with him every second before the fire started. He didn’t do anything except move some old furniture around.”

  There was something else about the officer’s accusation that struck Nancy as odd, too. Stepping forward, she told Lieutenant Oscarson, “There was no fire fifteen minutes ago, when the call came. It started less than ten minutes ago, which was after you got the tip. Doesn’t that seem odd?”

  The lieutenant quickly flipped through her notepad. “We haven’t yet determined the exact time the fire started.”

  “The call had to come before the fire started,” Nancy insisted. “None of us had a chance to call the fire department after we got out of the basement, yet the fire trucks were here as soon as we got upstairs. I think the person who called is the arsonist. How else could he or she have known in advance that a fire would happen?”

  “In that case it doesn’t make sense that Andrew would do it,” Ned put in. “If he wanted to torch the inn and collect on the insurance, I doubt he would have called the fire department and the police department and given himself away.”

  Lieutenant Oscarson leaned back against the hood of her police car and studied Nancy and Ned carefully. “You’re saying the caller named Andrew to take suspicion off himself?”

  “Or herself,” Nancy amended. “Do you have any idea who called in the tip? Even knowing whether it was a man or a woman could be helpful.”

  Making a note in her pad, the officer said, “One of our emergency operators took the call. I’ll try to track it down. Meanwhile, I’ve still got to take Andrew down to the station for questioning.” She stood up and opened the back door to her car.