A Secret in Time

  “I do remember,” Nancy said. “And I’m pretty sure I saw her at the expo.” She described the woman in black whom she’d noticed when they were about to look at Russell Brown’s jewelry. “I thought she looked familiar. That was because I had seen her picture in the newspaper during the trial. I remember it was a really big scandal because she’s from a rich local family. But they never convicted her because there wasn’t enough evidence.”

  “The robberies stopped right after the trial, though,” Bess pointed out. “That’s pretty incriminating, if you ask me.”

  Just then, Mary Lou Jennings appeared in the doorway. “Have you found something?” she asked. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been hovering right outside. I’m anxious to see this thief captured.”

  Nancy looked up from the coffee table. “Did you know Kimberly Burton was at the expo?” she asked Ms. Jennings.

  A serious expression came over the older woman’s face. She came into the room and sat in an armchair facing Nancy and Bess. “I did know that,” she said, frowning. “And I know all about the scandal last year. It was particularly painful for me because I know the Burton family quite well. Kimberly’s mother and my mother went to school together, and their home is in this neighborhood.”

  “What can you tell me about Kimberly Burton?” Nancy asked.

  The single line reappeared on Ms. Jennings’s forehead. “She’s a rather unusual person,” she said after a short silence. “Kimberly was always getting into trouble, even when she was a little girl. It was always hard to tell, though, whether she was really bad or just wanted everyone to think she was. I always believed Kimberly was bored and just wanted to stir up some excitement.”

  Nancy frowned. “What about the cat burglaries?” Nancy asked. “Do you think she’s really a thief?”

  “Again, it’s hard to say,” Ms. Jennings replied with a sigh. “She pleaded not guilty, and the court ruled in her favor. But she did seem to enjoy all the publicity surrounding the trial. Some people said she was gloating because she had gotten away with the thefts.”

  Nancy nodded. “Why do you suppose she was at the expo yesterday?” she asked.

  “Why, that’s an easy question to answer,” said Ms. Jennings. “During the past year, Kimberly’s been dealing in antique jewelry. Buying and selling it. I’ve seen her pieces. They’re quite unusual.”

  “Like the brooch,” Bess said under her breath to Nancy. “Maybe the way she acquires her pieces is unusual, too.”

  “Could be,” said Nancy. Turning to Ms. Jennings, she added, “I’d like to speak to Kimberly Burton. Do you know her well enough to arrange an introduction?”

  The socialite nodded, “We see each other fairly frequently at auctions.”

  “I don’t want Ms. Burton to know we’re investigating the disappearance of the brooch,” Nancy said. “Maybe we could tell her we’re interested in looking at her jewelry.”

  “She does have several pieces for sale,” Ms. Jennings told Nancy. “Let me see what I can do.”

  The woman left the parlor and returned a few minutes later. “It’s all arranged,” she said. “I told Kimberly that you two collect antique jewelry. She said you could come by tomorrow afternoon.” Ms. Jennings handed Nancy a slip of paper. “Here’s the address.”

  The girls thanked Ms. Jennings and got up to leave. Nancy borrowed the lists of names, promising to return them soon.

  It was late afternoon when Nancy and Bess returned to the Drews’ house, and the girls decided it was too late to go to the lake. The dark blue sedan was still parked across the street, and Hannah still wasn’t home. Once inside, Nancy used the kitchen phone to call Chief McGinnis. Bess picked up on the extension in the study to listen.

  “It’s a good lead,” the police chief said when he heard how the girls had spent their afternoon. “But be very careful. Kimberly Burton could be the thief, and that means she might be dangerous.”

  After they’d hung up, Bess appeared in the kitchen, her blue eyes fearful. “I don’t like the way he said that. Do you really think we should go to Kimberly Burton’s house without some sort of backup? What if she guesses our real reason for going there?”

  “Remember,” Nancy said, trying to calm her friend, “the only thing against Kimberly Burton so far is that she was on trial for burglary. In this country, a person is innocent until proven guilty. Kimberly Burton was never proven guilty.”

  Bess didn’t seem convinced, but she managed a weak smile.

  “If you feel uncomfortable about going with me tomorrow, I’ll go by myself,” Nancy said.

  “Do you think I would give up an opportunity to meet Kimberly Burton?” Bess cried, suddenly herself again. “No way! I couldn’t let you go alone.”

  Nancy smiled. “I’ll pick you up at one.”

  • • •

  The following afternoon Nancy and Bess drove up another long, tree-lined driveway toward a house that was nearly as large and impressive as Mary Lou Jennings’s. This one was a tall stone mansion with towers at the top. Trees surrounding the building cast the house into deep shadow.

  “The place looks haunted,” Bess remarked as she and Nancy climbed the stone steps to the heavy front door. “Does Kimberly Burton live here all alone?”

  Nancy shrugged and rang the doorbell. The girls heard loud chimes echoing inside the house.

  A tall, slim woman in her mid-thirties opened the door. Nancy recognized Kimberly Burton immediately from the antiques expo. She was very pretty and dressed entirely in black. Her almond-shaped eyes tilted upward and they were a startling golden yellow.

  “She does look like a cat, even if she’s not a cat burglar,” Bess whispered to Nancy.

  Nancy hoped the woman hadn’t overheard the remark, but she laughed and said, “I see my reputation precedes me. Please call me Kimberly.”

  To hide her embarrassment, Nancy quickly introduced herself and Bess. “Mary Lou Jennings spoke to you about us yesterday,” she added. “We’ve heard about your antique jewelry collection, and we’d love to see it.”

  Kimberly smiled slyly without displaying any teeth. “I’ve been expecting you,” she said. “Follow me.”

  Her dark, slender form retreated silently down a cool, dimly lit passage with walls of gray stone. The house looked even more like a castle inside, Nancy thought. It was decorated with old tapestries and suits of armor. “Wow,” Nancy said as the woman led them past a wall completely covered with lances, swords, and daggers. “Those weapons look dangerous.”

  “I like to live dangerously,” Kimberly said. “If you don’t take risks, you don’t get any rewards.”

  “Like this beautiful home, I guess,” Nancy said, pretending not to notice Kimberly’s mysterious tone.

  “I wasn’t talking about my home,” Kimberly told her. “That was acquired through sheer hard work by my grandfather and father, who left it to me. Hard work is not my style, though. I think of work as a game, so it’s never hard.”

  “Is buying and selling jewelry your only business?” Bess asked.

  Kimberly smiled and looked meaningfully at Bess. “I have a variety of interests, as you well know.”

  Bess lowered her eyes, and her face turned bright red. “I’m sorry about what I said before. I know you’re not a cat burglar. That remark just slipped out of my mouth.”

  “How do you know I’m not?” asked Kimberly.

  Bess looked confused. Nancy could tell that her friend wasn’t sure how to respond to Kimberly’s comment.

  “I wasn’t convicted,” Kimberly went on. “That doesn’t necessarily mean I wasn’t guilty.” With a graceful movement, she turned and let the girls into a small, dark sitting room.

  Kimberly gestured for Nancy and Bess to sit on a carved wooden bench. Next to it was a table covered with red velvet cloth. “I’ll be right back,” she said.

  Nancy waited until she was sure Kimberly was out of hearing range before she spoke. She kept her voice low. “Ms. Jennings was right,” she told
Bess. “Kimberly Burton is a very unusual character.”

  “It’s almost as if she wants us to think she was guilty,” Bess whispered.

  “If she really was guilty and got away with it, then she has nothing to worry about. She can’t be tried again for the same crime,” Nancy said.

  “I wonder what she’s up to,” Bess said.

  Nancy shrugged. “Beats me.”

  Several minutes later Kimberly reappeared carrying a wooden tray. When she set it down on the table, Nancy and Bess could see that it held several necklaces, some bracelets, and a large brooch. Kimberly laid them carefully on the red velvet, then stepped back.

  The two girls leaned forward to get a closer look. One of the necklaces resembled the one Kimberly was wearing. It was made of squares of hammered silver strung together to form a chain. Another necklace was made of colorful, brightly polished stones with gold beads between them.

  Nancy paid particular attention to the brooch. While it didn’t look exactly like the rose brooch, it was made in a similar style. It was circular and had been designed to resemble the globe. The continents were mapped in amber and emeralds, and the ocean was made of sapphires. If Kimberly had been drawn to the globe brooch, Nancy thought, she might have been interested in the rose brooch, too—if she’d seen it.

  “This is amazing,” Nancy said, gently lifting up the heavy brooch.

  “Exceptional detail,” Bess added. Nancy could tell from the gleam in her friend’s eyes that she understood what Nancy was getting at. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” Bess added, playing along.

  “All my pieces are unique,” Kimberly said proudly.

  “You mean no one has used precious stones this way before?” Nancy asked in her most innocent-sounding voice.

  Kimberly raised one eyebrow and looked down at her. Nancy couldn’t tell if her expression was one of guilt, surprise, or annoyance.

  “This piece has not been duplicated,” Kimberly said.

  Nancy tried not to groan. Kimberly’s answers weren’t getting them anywhere.

  “And where did you get this one?” Bess asked.

  “I never reveal my sources,” replied Kimberly. “Trade secrets, you know. So tell me, do any of these pieces interest you?”

  “I’m interested in the brooch,” Nancy told her. “How much does it cost?”

  “Thirty thousand dollars,” said Kimberly.

  Nancy used every ounce of her self-control not to flinch. She knew she’d burst out laughing if she looked at Bess, so she stared down at the brooch. “I see,” she said, trying to sound as if she spent that kind of money on jewelry all the time. “I’ll need time to think about it.”

  “Of course,” Kimberly replied smoothly.

  “Could we come back to look at it again?” Nancy asked.

  “Of course,” the woman said. “I’ll look forward to our next meeting.” She flashed her catlike smile again. “Shall I show you out?”

  Kimberly Burton led the girls back to the front hall and waved as they walked down the stone steps. Then she shut the heavy wooden door.

  “She’s really puzzling,” Bess said, shivering even though it was eighty degrees outside. “I mean, I don’t know how to take anything she says. Is she serious, or making fun of us, or what?”

  Nancy shook her head as she unlocked the car door, and she and Bess got in. “That’s what we’ll have to find out, I guess.”

  Nancy turned the key to start the car, but nothing happened. “That’s funny,” she said.

  “Are we out of gas?” Bess asked.

  Nancy shook her head. “I filled the tank this morning. Let me check under the hood.” She popped the hood lever, then got out of the car.

  “Nan?” Bess called through the window when Nancy didn’t come back right away. “Is there a problem?”

  “I think you’d better come here,” came Nancy’s voice from behind the hood.

  When Bess got to the front of the car, she gasped in dismay. Every visible wire and hose had been slashed, and the battery was gone.

  “I also found this,” Nancy said, holding out a small piece of paper. It read: The clock is ticking, but not for long. Time’s up, Nancy Drew!

  6

  Over the Edge

  Bess began to shake again, and her eyes were wide with fear as she looked at Nancy. “ ‘T-time’s up’? I don’t like the sound of that.”

  Nancy put an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “It might not be as bad as you think,” she said, trying to look on the bright side. “It could just mean the thief has finally figured out that the clock belongs to me, and he’s going to come after it. That’s what we’ve been waiting for, right?”

  “That’s only one possible meaning of ‘time’s up,’ ” Bess said, “and I don’t like the other one. Who knows how far the thief will go to get the brooch back? Look what he’s done already!” Bess pointed to the sliced wires under Nancy’s hood. “He must have had a really sharp knife.”

  “Or she,” Nancy reminded her, thinking of Kimberly Burton’s collection of medieval weapons. “We may have walked right into the thief’s arms . . . or house.”

  Bess’s eyes widened. “Do you think Kimberly did this?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Nancy replied. “But here’s one theory. Kimberly was at the expo. She steals the brooch and hides it inside the clock, but she can’t get it out without being caught by the police. Then the clock gets packed up, and she has to figure out where it went. First she tries Mr. Gordon’s store. She doesn’t find it there, but maybe she finds the card or some piece of paper saying the clock is mine. She plans to track me down, but instead, we come right to her.”

  “But of course she can’t just ask you for the brooch,” Bess said, picking up on Nancy’s reasoning. “So she sneaks outside, trashes your car, and leaves the note to scare you.” Bess thought for a moment. “She was gone a pretty long time when she went to get the jewelry.”

  “Exactly,” Nancy agreed. “The other possibility is that we were followed here. The thief—whether it’s Lydia or someone else—could have followed me here.”

  “But Lydia already knows where you live,” Bess said. “She wouldn’t have to come all the way out here to do this to your car. And she wouldn’t have had to go to all that trouble to find out who owned the clock.”

  “Unless she wanted to make it look as if someone else did it,” Nancy pointed out. “As I said before, she could have made it look like a break-in at Mr. Gordon’s store. But no matter who the thief is, I have a feeling he or she will come after the clock soon—maybe tonight.”

  “So now what do we do?” Bess asked. “We’re stuck here without transportation. We certainly can’t go back into Kimberly’s house to ask for help.”

  “Sure we can,” Nancy said. “In fact, that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

  “Are you kidding?” Bess asked in alarm. “Who knows what she could do to us in that scary old house? Maybe she has ancient torture equipment down in the dungeon.”

  “Whether she does or not,” Nancy said, “she’s not going to do a thing to us.”

  Bess shot Nancy a wary glance. “How can you be so sure?”

  “She’s far too clever to be so obvious,” Nancy said, heading for the stone steps. “Whether she’s innocent or guilty, she’ll at least let us use her phone.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” Bess said, opening the door to Nancy’s car. “I’ll stay here. If you don’t come out in five minutes, I’ll run and get help.”

  “Okay,” Nancy said with a laugh. “But I’m sure you won’t have to do anything so drastic.” She walked back to the mansion, rang the doorbell, and again heard the deep chimes echoing through the house.

  Kimberly opened the door and smiled at Nancy. “Back so soon?” she asked. “I didn’t know you felt so strongly about the brooch.”

  Nancy studied Kimberly, wondering if her words had a double meaning. Which brooch was she talking about?

  Nancy ex
plained what had happened to her car and asked to use the phone.

  Kimberly frowned and lowered her eyebrows, but she showed no other reaction to Nancy’s predicament. “I didn’t realize I lived in such a dangerous neighborhood,” she said. “You can use the phone in the hall.”

  She led Nancy to an alcove off the entrance hall. There, on a dark wooden table, was an old-fashioned black dial phone. When Nancy picked up the heavy receiver, she noticed that Kimberly moved away but stayed close enough to hear.

  First, Nancy called information for the number of a towing company and arranged to have her car picked up. Next, she called home to see if Hannah could come and get her and Bess, but there was no answer. Nancy didn’t want to bother her father at the office. She was beginning to think she and Bess would have to make the long way home on foot when she suddenly remembered George’s mobile phone.

  Taking her wallet out of her purse, she rummaged through it and finally found George’s number. Nancy dialed and waited through several rings before she heard her friend’s familiar voice.

  “George!” Nancy cried. “I’m so happy you’re there.”

  “Nancy?” George’s voice sounded far away. “Hold on a second.”

  More faintly, Nancy heard her asking someone whether he wanted rainbow or chocolate sprinkles. Then George was back on the line. “Sorry,” she said. “What’s going on?”

  Nancy explained the situation. “Do you think you could come and get us?” she asked. “Is it out of your way?”

  “You’re in luck,” said George. “When I’m done in this neighborhood, I’ll be heading that way. Give me the address. I should be there in about half an hour.”

  “Terrific! Thanks, George.” Nancy gave her directions and hung up.

  “You’re more than welcome to wait indoors,” Kimberly offered.

  Though Nancy didn’t believe Bess’s fears about Kimberly’s “dungeon,” she knew she’d feel safer outside, since Kimberly might have been the one who damaged her car. “Thanks,” she said. “But my friend will be here any minute.”

  • • •

  Shortly after a tow truck had carted Nancy’s blue sports car away, Nancy and Bess heard a happy, tinkling tune in the distance. Gradually it grew louder and louder until a square white Frosty Freeze truck turned into Kimberly Burton’s long driveway.