Page 9 of Trail of Lies


  The snow continued to fall, and when darkness came, Nancy wondered how Steve could find his way. It seemed as though they’d been traveling for hours, although Steve assured her it had been only a little more than one hour.

  “We’re almost there,” he said, turning the sled sharply to the right.

  Nancy squinted her eyes. It wasn’t her imagination. There was something dark a few hundred yards ahead of them. The cabin! Lindsay’s dogs began to bark from excitement. Then the night was filled with the sound of answering barks.

  Steve pulled the sled to a stop and turned off the light on his forehead. Nancy unfastened the belt that had held her in. She jumped to her feet and ran to the cabin. She flung open the door.

  At first glance the cabin seemed empty. Then Nancy saw a dark form on a low cot by one wall. Heart hammering, she ran over and bent down to see who it was.

  George was lying there, eyes closed. Her face was perfectly white, and her skin was icy to the touch.

  “George!” Nancy said in a low, urgent voice. She shook her friend by the shoulder. But George neither spoke nor stirred. She just lay there, still as death.

  Chapter

  Fourteen

  NANCY’S HEART STOOD STILL. “George!” she whispered again. Peeling off her mitten, she placed gentle fingers on George’s throat just below the left ear.

  There was a pulse. It was slow but steady. Nancy turned to Steve. “She’s okay,” she said quickly, seeing the expression on his face. “You’d better look for Craig—I’ll take care of George.”

  Steve spun on his heel and went back out into the darkness. Nancy thought quickly. Craig had probably given George some kind of sedative. She had to get her friend moving to work the drug out of her system.

  “George!” she called. She slapped her friend’s cheeks lightly. “It’s Nancy. Wake up.”

  At first there was no response. Then George’s eyelids flickered. Her pupils were dilated, and she didn’t seem to recognize Nancy.

  “George! It’s Nancy.”

  A glimmer of recognition made its way into George’s eyes. “Check the dog food,” the drugged girl said. Her words were slow and deliberate, as though she had to force them out. She closed her eyes again, drifting back to sleep.

  Steve strode back into the cabin and stamped the snow from his boots. “Is she okay?” he demanded fiercely.

  Nancy shook her head. “It looks like Craig gave her some kind of sleeping pill. We have to get her back to your house and call the doctor. Did you find Craig?” she asked.

  “No—I don’t know where he is,” Steve said. He looked around the room, then walked to the stove that stood in one corner. He opened the large box next to it and peered inside. “Maybe he went to get wood. There’s not much in here, and I didn’t see any outside.” He unzipped his parka. “In this weather nobody would take a chance on running out of firewood.”

  “How about your dogs?” Nancy asked. “Are they all right?”

  Steve nodded. “They’re used to being outside, even in a storm. Craig unharnessed them, so I guess he’s planning to stay here for a while.”

  Nancy felt a cold draft sweep along the floor. She looked up.

  “You bet I plan to stay,” Craig’s voice boomed from the open door. He was dressed in a light blue snowsuit, and his blue eyes glittered dangerously, chilling Nancy more than the arctic wind.

  Craig closed the door behind him and glanced around the room. “Quite a cozy gathering, isn’t it?”

  Before Nancy or Steve could reply, George opened her eyes and started to sit up. When she saw Craig, she moaned and sank back onto the cot.

  “What did you do to her?” Steve demanded, a worried frown etched on his face.

  “Nothing.” Though it was only one word, Craig’s tone indicated how unimportant George was.

  Steve clenched his fists and took a step toward Craig.

  “Don’t,” Nancy warned him in a low voice. Craig’s eyes blazed with excitement, as if he was looking for an excuse to fight. That was the last thing they needed.

  Steve evidently realized the same thing, for he lowered his hands to his sides.

  Craig sneered. “What’s the matter, big man? Didn’t they teach you how to fight at those fancy schools your daddy sent you to?”

  “You were really clever to arrange the smuggling,” Nancy said, trying to shift Craig’s attention. “I still haven’t figured out how you managed all the details.”

  “Playing for time, huh?” Craig said with a sidelong glance at Nancy. Her stomach contracted. He wasn’t going to take the bait.

  Then Craig smiled and leaned back against the wall. “Well, I may as well boast a little,” he said easily. “Because you kids won’t be going anywhere for a long, long time.

  “It was all so easy,” he went on. “I was out with some friends one night when I heard this guy in Seattle was looking for a partner in the shipping business—someone who wanted to make lots of money. That was right up my alley. The guy had contacts in the Far East who made ivory statues. He needed someone in Anchorage to get the stuff off a ship and into the hands of the dealers.” Craig tossed his head arrogantly. “It was Craig Miller to the rescue. All I had to do was pull a fast one on old man Wilcox. Boy, is that guy slow on the uptake!”

  Steve growled low in his throat and started to move toward Craig. Nancy put a cautionary hand on his arm.

  Craig looked from Nancy to Steve, then back again. “You’re a little rusty yourself, Ms. Drew,” he told her. “That ivory was right under all of your noses, all the time.” He crowed with laughter.

  Steve could control his anger no longer. “I can’t believe it!” he cried. “I thought you were my friend.”

  Craig’s laughter stopped abruptly. His voice was little more than a snarl. “Do you think I liked being one of your employees? It was demeaning having to work as your kennel boy. But you never thought about that, did you?”

  Now that Craig was talking, there was no stopping him. “Do you think I liked training your dogs but never getting to race them?” he demanded. “All the work but none of the fun? I’ll bet you never thought about that, any more than you thought about what it’s like to be poor. Well, I’ll tell you and Ms. Drew here one thing. I’m never going to be poor again.”

  Craig smiled, but his smile was filled with malevolence. Nancy could hardly believe this was the man who’d once been friendly to her.

  “You were too smart for your own good,” he told her. “You wouldn’t take my hints and stop the investigation.”

  “Hints? You mean all those . . . mishaps?” Nancy asked carefully. Her eyes darted around the room as she sought a weapon of some kind.

  “Mishaps.” Craig chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh, that’s very funny. Mishaps. Yes, I guess you could call tumbling down a flight of stairs and nearly being trampled by a team of runaway sled dogs ‘mishaps.’ ”

  He looked down at George, and his smile was not a pleasant thing to see. “I would have pulled it off without a hitch, you know. It was just bad luck that your pal George came in at the wrong time and saw me hiding the ivory.” He pursed his lips primly. “There’s a lesson in this somewhere—something about minding your own business. Too bad you all won’t live to put it into practice.”

  That was more than Steve could take. He lunged forward to tackle the friend who’d betrayed his trust.

  But Craig was quick. In one fluid motion he stepped to the side. He grabbed Steve’s arm and twisted it behind his back. Then he pulled a big, old-fashioned revolver from the pocket of his parka. He raised the butt and brought it down on Steve’s head.

  Steve crumpled to the floor.

  Nancy started toward him, but Craig’s barked command stopped her. She turned and looked at him.

  His eyes were serious at last. “I’m afraid this is goodbye,” he said. Slowly and deliberately he raised the gun and pointed the barrel at her. “It’s your turn now, Nancy Drew.”

  Chapter

  Fifteen

/>   NOT IF I CAN HELP it!” Nancy cried. Moving with reflexes that had been honed by her martial arts classes, she lunged forward and kicked up and out, catching Craig’s arm.

  The gun flew from his hand and landed with a loud clatter on the other side of the cabin.

  “You—!” Craig’s face contorted with fury. His hands reached for Nancy, the fingers curled as if to strangle her.

  Nancy moved deftly to the side. Suddenly Craig lost his balance and toppled to the floor. His head hit the hard boards with a crack, and he lay still.

  For the briefest instant Nancy stared at her assailant, wondering how he’d tripped. Then she saw Steve’s leg where Craig had been standing. Still on the floor, Steve was conscious. He peered up at her, rubbing his head.

  “Did I get him? All right! Let’s get him tied up,” he said, rising to his feet.

  While Steve held Craig on the floor, Nancy found nylon twine in a cupboard. In minutes they had bound the unconscious Craig’s hands and ankles. Once Nancy thought she saw his eyelids flicker. She leaned forward and peered intently at his face, but it remained slack.

  “That must have been some blow to his head,” she commented.

  “I hope it hurt,” Steve said angrily. “Come on, let’s get George out of here.”

  The two of them bundled George into the extra blankets Nancy had brought and carried her to the sled.

  Nancy was surprised at how much snow had fallen while they were in the cabin. And it kept coming down, thicker and faster.

  When Steve had fastened the belt around George and was sure she was secure, he turned to Nancy.

  “Here’s the headlight,” he said, holding out the bright battery-powered light. “Do you know how to work it?”

  Nancy nodded, but there was a question in her eyes. “Why do I need it?” she asked.

  “Because you’re going to take George back to the house,” Steve answered.

  Nancy looked at him, startled by his reply. “I can’t. I’m not a musher,” she protested.

  Steve gave her a little smile. “Let’s not argue again. Someone’s got to deal with Craig, and it ought to be me. He was my friend. If it hadn’t been for me, you and George wouldn’t have been involved in this mess.” He handed Nancy the light and helped her secure it to her cap. “Get George to the doctor. I’ll harness my dogs and then bring Craig back with me.”

  Nancy hesitated. It was fine to tell her to take the dogsled, but she was a rookie musher.

  “Look, Nancy,” Steve said. “This storm isn’t letting up any. You’d better get going. The dogs will follow their own trail and lead you back.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Nancy told him. “And, Steve—good luck to you.”

  She took her place on the runners. Her right foot reached to release the brake.

  “Hike!” she called.

  Butterscotch turned and looked at Nancy, as though surprised by a new driver. Then she barked to the team, and the sled began to move.

  “Home, Butterscotch,” Nancy urged the powerful husky. “Take us home.”

  As the trail began to climb a hill, she jumped off the runners and ran behind the sled. Steve had made it look easy when he’d done it. After she’d crested her first hill, though, Nancy had a new respect for Steve, Lindsay, and all the other dog mushers. It was hard work running through the deep snow.

  Nancy shouted words of encouragement to the dogs. Then, remembering something Craig had said about Lindsay’s techniques, she took a deep breath. “This land is your land, this land is my land . . .” she sang. The dogs barked and put on a little more speed.

  Nancy lost all sense of time. All that mattered was getting George safely home. So far the sled was staying upright, and the dogs were running as though they knew the way.

  The snow continued to fall, leaving a thick blanket of white on top of George. Nancy smiled. Snow was a good insulator. It would help keep George warm.

  She was singing another rousing chorus of “This Land Is Your Land” to the dogs when she heard dogs barking behind her. Steve and his team were rapidly catching up. Nancy turned to wave.

  Her headlight cast a beacon far enough so that she could see beyond the dogs to the musher who stood on the runners. His suit was light blue, and a lock of blond hair had escaped from his knit cap.

  Craig!

  He must have been faking unconsciousness back at the cabin, Nancy realized. Somehow he had overpowered Steve and taken the dogs from him. Her heart began to pound. “Oh, hurry!” she called to the dogs, forgetting the commands she had learned.

  “Give it up, Nancy!” Craig cried out. “You can’t beat me on a dogsled.”

  Nancy gave the sled a forward push, trying to get the dogs to run faster.

  Craig was getting closer.

  Fighting for her life and George’s, racing through an Alaskan snowstorm, Nancy started singing again. As if to show her approval, Butterscotch turned and barked at Nancy. The dogs picked up speed.

  “It won’t work!” Craig yelled.

  Nancy sang louder. He hates this song, she remembered. Maybe because it works!

  The trail was too narrow for Craig to pass her. She tried to remember how much farther it was before the trail widened again.

  They were still in the forest when Nancy saw the trees begin to thin out. In just a few yards the trail would be wide enough so that Craig could pull up alongside her.

  As soon as he saw the broadening of the trail, Craig shouted to his dogs, quickening their pace. An instant later he had pulled his sled even with Nancy’s.

  “End of the line,” he said with an evil grin.

  Nancy shouted to Butterscotch. The lead dog barked her command to the rest of the team, but the dogs could go no faster.

  From the corner of her eye, Nancy saw a movement on Craig’s sled. What was he up to? she wondered fearfully.

  Craig reached into the basket and pulled out a coiled whip.

  Nancy bit her lip. “Easy, Butterscotch,” she called, hoping her voice sounded more reassuring than she felt. “It’ll be all right.”

  Nancy started singing again. It was all she could do. She knew how Lindsay’s dogs hated the sound of a whip. She’d seen firsthand how they reacted to loud noises. Nancy was not a skilled racer who could control a team that ran wild. All she could do was try to prevent them from spooking.

  Craig lifted the whip over his head.

  Nancy raised her voice in song.

  Crack! The sound of the whip echoed through the night.

  Butterscotch held fast for a second when the other dogs started to tug on the line. Nancy felt the sled gain momentum as terror propelled the dogs to get as far from the frightening noise as they could.

  The team swerved, and for a second Nancy felt the sled begin to slip. Then Butterscotch barked a short command. Though the other dogs yipped their disapproval, they obeyed. The sled continued to gain speed.

  Nancy gripped the handlebar tightly and looked to her right. Craig was still there. He gazed at her and touched a mocking hand to his cap.

  In that instant, a snowshoe hare hopped across the trail. Craig’s dogs swerved to the right to chase the rabbit. When he realized what was happening, Craig quickly tugged on the handlebar.

  But it was too late. With a sickening thud, the sled flipped over and slammed against a tree.

  There was a blur of blue as Craig let go of the handlebar. Then a small avalanche of snow came down from the tree and buried his still form in a deep drift.

  Chapter

  Sixteen

  NANCY GASPED and turned her eyes away. For a moment she thought of stopping, but then she realized there was nothing she could do to help Craig out here.

  “Home, Butterscotch, home!” Nancy cried. Quickly the sled pulled out of the forest. The wind was stronger, blowing snow into Nancy’s face. Despite her heavy clothes and face mask, her fingers were numb and her face ached. The ride went on and on, like a nightmare.

  At last the trail became familiar, and the
dogs ran more quickly, knowing they were close to home.

  At the sound of her dogs’ barking, Lindsay ran from the barn. “You’re safe!”

  “Help George!” Nancy shouted as she pulled the dog team to a stop. With Lindsay’s help, she tugged her woozy friend out from under her warm blanket of snow and wool. Quickly they bundled her into the car.

  “We’d better call the police,” Nancy said as they drove to the Wilcox house.

  “I already did,” Lindsay told her. “I wasn’t sure where the cabin was, so I called Amanda. She gave the police directions.”

  Minutes later Nancy and Lindsay supported George as they brought her into the Wilcox house. Carson and Henry ran toward the girls, a babble of questions tumbling from their lips.

  Nancy held up one hand. “Wait just a minute, please,” she said with a tired laugh. She and Lindsay helped George into the den and deposited her on the couch. Then Nancy flopped down beside her.

  “Okay, now I’m ready to talk. . . .”

  • • •

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Henry Wilcox asked George for at least the sixth time.

  George nodded. By the time the doctor had arrived, she was already recovering from the effects of the sedative. His announcement that there was no permanent damage only confirmed what she’d been telling everyone—that she’d be fine.

  The doorbell rang, and Henry jumped to his feet. He was hoping, Nancy knew, that it was the police returning with Steve and Craig.

  Nancy watched his face fall as Amanda came into the den.

  “I wanted to make sure . . . everyone was okay,” Amanda said in response to Nancy’s unspoken question. Something in Amanda’s voice told Nancy her concern was for Steve.

  “I didn’t expect you,” Henry told Amanda. He started to say something more, then swallowed his words.

  “You mean because your son and I aren’t dating anymore?” Amanda asked.

  Henry nodded.