Making Waves

  “This used to be an inn that offered lodging for seafarers,” Andy said as the group stepped inside the building.

  Nancy was too preoccupied to pay much attention to the old sailing prints he pointed out on the walls of the tavern. She had to get at the truth about Andy, and that meant calling Stan Yadlowski and asking him to find out more about the separate bank account and Steele Lumber. Also, she was dying to find out if he’d traced the license plate.

  “I need to use the powder room,” Nancy said as soon as they were all seated at a large round table.

  “Me, too,” Bess put in.

  As the two girls wound their way past tables crowded with diners, Nancy could hear a band tuning up in an adjoining room.

  “This place looks like fun,” Bess said.

  Nancy nodded distractedly. The rest rooms were in an alcove just before the doorway leading to the room where the band was playing. “Great, there’s a pay phone,” she said, heading for it. “I’m going to call Stan,” she told Bess. “You keep watch. I don’t want Andy or Annabel finding out.” Seeing Bess’s perplexed expression, she added, “I’ll explain later.”

  Under the pretense of watching the band warm up, Bess paused at the edge of the alcove. From there, Nancy knew she could see their table.

  After pulling out Stan’s card, Nancy dialed his number. All she got was the answering machine. She left a message asking him to check out both the account and the lumber company.

  When she and Bess joined the others back at the table, a middle-aged waitress with bleached blond hair was standing next to Andy, order pad in hand.

  “I sure was sad to hear about Nick,” the waitress was telling Andy and Annabel. Her eyes were misty with sympathy behind her glasses. She patted Annabel’s shoulder and gave Andy’s a squeeze. “You two must be heartbroken.”

  As Nancy slipped into the chair beside Ned, her gaze landed on a woman sitting at the bar. Leah O’Halloran! At least she thought it was Leah. The woman’s back was toward Nancy, and her long brown hair was in a french braid. Still, there was something about the woman’s figure.

  “And to have that tragic thing happen to Mike and Leah O’Halloran,” the waitress continued, drawing Nancy’s attention back to her own table. “Annapolis has never seen so much excitement.”

  Nancy spotted the waitress’s name tag. “Did you know Mrs. O’Halloran, Sheila?” Nancy asked.

  The waitress shook her head. “Not as well as I knew Nick. He was in here all the time. A regular, you know? But sometimes Nick would meet Mrs. O’Halloran and her husband for lunch—business stuff about the O’Hallorans’ sailing the boat.”

  “Oh.” Nancy slumped back into her seat. Nothing unusual about that. Her gaze darted back to the bar where the brunette had been sitting, but she was gone.

  “Still—” Leaning over the table, Sheila dropped her voice to a dramatic whisper. “It’s strange that the police haven’t found Nick’s body. And you know, it’s probably just a coincidence, but Old Bill’s been missing, too.”

  With a conspiratorial expression, Annabel said to Sheila, “That’s probably because sharks ate them both.”

  Nancy glanced sharply at Annabel. How could she be so flip about two people’s lives!

  “Humph,” Sheila snorted, straightening abruptly. “I should have known you wouldn’t care if Nick was shot,” she said to Annabel. Then Sheila flounced off.

  “That wasn’t too smart, Annabel,” Andy told her. “By tomorrow, Sheila will have told the whole town that you shot your husband.”

  Annabel shrugged. “So?”

  “Uhhh, I hope someone ordered for Nancy and me,” Bess said, obviously trying to defuse the tension.

  Parker shot Bess a grateful smile. “How do onion rings and nachos sound?” he suggested.

  “Who’s Old Bill?” Nancy asked. “The waitress mentioned that he had disappeared, too.”

  “Old Bill’s the town bum,” Andy explained. “He’s been hanging around the dock for years.”

  Just then Sheila brought back a round of sodas. “Sheila.” Nancy put a hand on the waitress’s arm. “You said something about Old Bill disappearing.”

  “Come on, Nancy,” Annabel scoffed. “Don’t you ever quit this detective stuff? It gets boring.”

  Nancy didn’t let Annabel’s rude comment stop her. Sheila flashed Annabel an angry look, then turned her back on her. “What did you want to know, honey?” she asked Nancy.

  “When did you first notice that Old Bill wasn’t around?”

  “About four days ago, I guess,” the waitress said, putting one hand on a hip. “He used to come around pretty regular for a handout at dinner. Leftovers, you know. Then he just stopped coming.”

  Andy, Annabel, Bess, and Parker had started talking among themselves about the race, but Ned leaned across Nancy and asked Sheila, “Did anyone report it?”

  “No, come to think of it . . . Sheila’s voice trailed off, and she shrugged.

  “But sometimes he’s disappeared for a couple of days. You know—too much to drink.”

  “Thanks for the information,” Nancy said.

  “Anytime, honey.”

  After the waitress had gone, Nancy sat back in her seat and slowly sipped her soda.

  “So what’s going through that beautiful head of yours?” Ned whispered in her ear.

  Nancy frowned. “Things seem to get more and more complicated,” she said.

  “You don’t think this stuff about Old Bill has anything to do with Nick Lazlo, do you?” he asked.

  “No,” Nancy replied. “As Sheila said, it was probably a coincidence that the two disappeared within days of each other. Still, I like to look at all the angles.”

  “Probably Old Bill will show up,” Ned guessed, then he lowered his voice. “But somehow I doubt Lazlo will. If his body drifted in the current, the Coast Guard divers may never find it.” Abruptly he smiled. “Now, how about forgetting there’s a mystery for a while, and enjoying the evening?”

  Nancy tilted her head up to kiss him. “It’s a deal.”

  • • •

  “That tavern was a great place,” Bess said an hour later, as she, Parker, Nancy, and Ned strolled in the small waterfront park on the Annapolis City Dock. Andy and Annabel had stopped to talk with friends before leaving the tavern. They were going to meet back at the boat in half an hour.

  Some sailboats were moored to the pilings, while others were tied up against the bulkhead. A sidewalk bordered the outside edge of the park. As Nancy strolled hand in hand with Ned, she realized there was no wall or rope to keep someone from falling off the sidewalk into Spa Creek.

  “Did anyone notice that woman who looked like Leah O’Halloran sitting at the bar?” Nancy asked when they stopped to admire a sleek sailboat.

  Parker shook his head. “I would’ve noticed someone with a figure like hers,” he said teasingly.

  With a look of mock anger, Bess jerked her hand from his. “Oh, really?”

  Laughing, Parker held his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I was just kidding. My back was to the bar, remember?”

  “Mine wasn’t,” Ned put in, “but I didn’t notice her, either.”

  Nancy shrugged. “Maybe it was my imagination.”

  “You are getting pretty wrapped up in this case, Nancy,” Bess pointed out. “What was all that stuff about Old Bill?”

  “Hey,” Ned cut in. “Here we are in a moonlit park in historic Annapolis. Why don’t we do something romantic?”

  “Like what?” Nancy asked with a smile, sliding her arm around her boyfriend’s waist.

  Before Ned could answer, Parker grabbed his arm and started pulling him ahead of the girls. “Wow! Check out that cool sailboat,” he said.

  “So much for romance.” Bess sighed, then glanced behind Nancy. “You’d better move—a late-night jogger’s headed this way.”

  Nancy stepped closer to the edge of the bulkhead. Directly below her, moonlight shimmered on the surface of the water. Several boats bob
bed and swayed in the water.

  “Let’s catch up with the guys,” Bess said, starting ahead. “I’d like to see that boat, too.”

  Nancy started to follow, but suddenly someone shoved her roughly in the back.

  “What—?” Nancy felt herself fly forward over the edge of the bulkhead, her arms and legs flailing. She screamed, and then she hit the water. A cold, dark curtain closed around her.

  Chapter

  Ten

  MURKY WATER tugged at Nancy’s clothes, pulling her down. Total darkness surrounded her, and she panicked as she realized she couldn’t tell which way was up.

  Frantically she kicked her feet and stroked with her arms. A searing pain shot through one hand as her knuckles scraped against something rough. Her lungs were about to burst when suddenly a strong arm encircled her chest in a lifesaving hold and began pulling her to the surface. Scissoring her legs, Nancy helped propel herself upward. When she burst above the water, she hungrily gulped air into her lungs.

  “Nancy! Are you all right?” Nancy heard Ned’s voice behind her. Still gasping for breath, she could only nod. Ned relaxed his hold. With his hands on her shoulders, he turned her around in the water to face him.

  Nancy gave him a weak smile. For a second the two held each other as they treaded water. “Thanks!” she finally gasped.

  “You guys,” Bess called from the walkway above. “There’s a ladder on that boat moored next to you.” She pointed to the sailboat beside them. A rope ladder hung off the stern.

  With a hand on Nancy’s shoulder, Ned steered her toward it. After they climbed into the boat, the two of them stood dripping in the cockpit to catch their breath.

  “W-what happened?” Nancy finally asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Ned said. “Bess screamed, and Parker and I turned around in time to see you doing a belly flop into the water.”

  Nancy shivered. “But who pushed me?”

  “Bess yelled something about a jogger, so Parker took off after him the same instant I dove into the water.” Ned picked up her hand. “Hey, you’re bleeding.”

  Fanning out her fingers, Nancy stared at them. Her knuckles were scraped raw. “I must have grazed them on the side of the bulkhead,” she murmured. A cool breeze hit her wet hair and clothes, and she huddled closer to Ned.

  “Nancy, Ned, are you two all right?” Bess called from the dock. She was standing by the bow of the sailboat. Nancy could see Parker behind her, jogging back from the other side of the park.

  “We’re fine,” Nancy called. She and Ned walked to the bow, then jumped onto the dock. Bess slipped off her sweater jacket, and Nancy took it gratefully.

  “He got away,” Parker said with dismay when he stopped beside them.

  Bess put a hand on her hip. “You mean she got away,” she declared firmly.

  “It was a woman?” Nancy asked.

  Bess nodded. “Looked that way to me. Her legs were awfully slender and shapely for a man’s.”

  Ned and Nancy looked at each other. “Leah O’Halloran!” they announced in unison.

  “Maybe you did see her at the bar,” Parker added, shaking his head in amazement. “She might have overheard us asking questions.”

  Bess reached for Nancy’s hand. “Do you think that was a warning?”

  “Or something even worse,” Nancy said. “It’s possible that whoever pushed me in was hoping I’d never come up.”

  An uneasy silence fell over the group. Finally Ned said, “Come on. Let’s see if there are any dry clothes and some first-aid stuff on the Surprise.”

  Half an hour later, Ned and Nancy were dressed in waterproof storm pants and jackets. “Not too stylish,” Nancy joked as she sat down on the bench in the Skipper’s Surprise’s cockpit. “But at least they’re dry.”

  “Tell us again what happened,” Andy said, his brow creased with worry lines. He and Annabel had boarded the sailboat about ten minutes after the others arrived.

  Annabel rolled her eyes. “I think once was enough, Andrew,” she said. “Especially since it was probably an accident. I mean, why would anyone want to push Nancy into the water? Now let’s get under way, or we won’t be home until midnight.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Andy reluctantly agreed. “We can talk about this tomorrow, Nancy. I don’t like the idea of my friends being in danger because of something I’m involved in.”

  What exactly are you involved in? Nancy wanted to ask, but Andy was already headed to untie the bowline. Her mind was swimming with questions. If Leah O’Halloran was involved with Nick’s disappearance, then how did Andy and Annabel fit in? Was it possible that Leah was working with one of them? Annabel or Andy could have tipped Leah off that they were going to the tavern and then to the park.

  Nancy shook her head as her thoughts grew darker and darker. Tomorrow they all would be racing together on the Skipper’s Surprise in the middle of the Chesapeake Bay. She would have to keep really alert—she didn’t want to take another dive into the water, that was for sure.

  • • •

  At nine o’clock on Sunday morning, Nancy called Stan Yadlowski before she left for the race. Again she got his answering machine. This time she left the Devereux’ number.

  “No luck?” Bess asked as Nancy hung up the phone in the Devereux’ kitchen.

  Nancy shook her head. “I wonder what our friend Stan is up to,” she said. “Maybe he’s dodging us.”

  The two girls left by the kitchen door and walked down to the dock. Both were carrying backpacks with changes of clothes, sunblock, and bathing suits.

  “Hey! Check out the two gorgeous sailors!” Parker called out cheerfully from the dock. Andy, Annabel, and Ned were already busy on the deck of the Skipper’s Surprise, unpacking sails and checking the sheets, which were the lines that were used for pulling the sails in and out.

  Parker greeted Bess with a big hug, then the three of them stepped over the lifeline onto the boat. From his perch on top of the cabin, Ned gave Nancy a big grin. “Ready for a great race?”

  Annabel looked sharply at Nancy and Bess. “There’s a stiff wind, so we’ll need ballast. That means moving quickly from the port to starboard deck whenever I holler,” she added. Turning on her heel, she went to the cockpit and took the wheel. “Okay, let’s get under way!”

  Ned and Parker reacted immediately by untying the stern lines and bowlines from the dock, while Andy was busy unfurling the different sails. As Annabel started the motor, the two boys leapt back onto the boat. Nancy went to the bow to get the jib ready to hoist.

  Half an hour later, the Skipper’s Surprise was sailing briskly down the Severn River toward the Naval Academy.

  “At ten o’clock, all the boats that are racing rendezvous off the channel marker AH-One that leads into the Severn River,” Andy explained to Ned, Nancy, Parker, and Bess.

  “How do you know what course you’re supposed to race?” Ned asked.

  “It’s pretty complicated,” Annabel answered. “The race committee first checks wind direction and velocity.”

  “Wind direction determines where the weather mark will be placed,” Andy added. “Velocity determines how long the course will be.”

  Bess gave Andy a puzzled look. “Pardon my being so stupid, but what is a weather mark?”

  “A big orange buoy. They set the markers in Chesapeake Bay,” Andy told her. “The weather mark is the one that’s set upwind. Since the wind appears to be northeast, it’ll be set by the eastern side of the Bay Bridge. We’ll sail to the weather mark first, then head southwest to what’s called the leeward mark.”

  “That should be fun,” Nancy said. She was sitting between Ned and Bess on the rail behind the lifeline. Their bare feet dangled over the edge of the boat. Cool water sprayed Nancy’s legs, and the wind whipped through her hair. If this was what it was to be ballast, she decided she didn’t mind a bit.

  Half an hour later, the Skipper’s Surprise approached a large group of sailboats. Andy pointed out the race
committee boat, designated by a blue flag with the gold letters RC on it. Spread out in the surrounding area were about a hundred and twenty-five sailboats, their triangular sails white against the blue sky.

  “We’re racing against all those boats?” Bess asked, her mouth dropping open.

  Annabel rolled her eyes. “Don’t you know anything?” she scoffed. “There are five classes of boats, separated according to size. We’ll be racing against twenty boats or more in our class.”

  “That’s still some pretty stiff competition,” Ned said, letting out a low whistle.

  Andy patted the boom of the Skipper’s Surprise. “That’s why sailors are always looking for an edge. If our keel shape can pare a few seconds per mile off our racing time, the Skipper’s Surprise will be a winner.”

  “And so will Lazlo Designs!” Annabel crowed. “Every sailor in the world will be flooding the company with orders for the Nican Forty.”

  Suddenly Nancy’s eyes widened. The keel shape! Why hadn’t she thought of it before?

  Holding on to the lifeline, she pulled her legs up and spun around to face the cockpit. “Andy!” she called out. “Could someone be trying to steal your design for the keel shape?”

  “I don’t know,” Andy said, frowning. “I never even thought about that possibility.”

  “That’s right!” Bess hit her palm against her forehead. “Why didn’t we think of that before?”

  “Because we were concentrating on why someone would shoot Nick,” Nancy explained. “Then Stan Yadlowski complicated things with his story about the pirates.”

  For a second, the group was silent. Then Parker asked the question that was on Nancy’s mind. “Is everyone thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked. “That maybe Stan isn’t who he’s pretending to be?”

  Nancy nodded. “Stan Yadlowski might be a private detective,” she said in a gloomy voice, “but maybe he’s not working just for Bayside Insurance. Maybe someone else paid him to break into Andy’s office to find the keel design for the Nican Forty!”

  Chapter

  Eleven