Chapter
One
NANCY, WATCH WHERE you’re going!” With a shudder, Bess Marvin glanced at the waves dashing against the rocks below the cliff road and squeezed her eyes shut. “You’re going to get us killed.”
Nancy Drew, hands competently gripping the wheel of the rented jeep, shot a quick look at her friend. “Calm down, Bess,” she called into the sea breeze that was blowing her hair back from her face into a red-gold halo. “I’m in complete control.”
“Yeah, come on, Bess,” George Fayne said from the backseat. “Relax.” Leaning forward, she touched her cousin Bess’s arm. “Open your eyes. The Oregon coast is one of the most beautiful in the world, and you’re missing it.”
Bess just shook her head and yanked her floppy khaki hat down over her eyes. She slid even lower in her seat. “If we’re going to die, I don’t want to watch it happening.”
“Sometimes I don’t understand you,” George said, shaking her head. “Only a couple of hours ago we were in a plane that was five miles up in the air. You weren’t scared then. But now you’re terrified because we happen to be a few hundred feet above the ocean waves.”
“And rocks—don’t forget the rocks,” Nancy teased.
“Stop it, you two,” Bess wailed. “You’re not being fair. Anyway, a plane’s different. You’re closed in, in a nice comfy seat, with someone bringing you food—” She paused to sigh, a smile on her face. “That cabin attendant was adorable, wasn’t he?”
“Now, that’s the Bess I know and love.” George grinned.
George caught Nancy’s eye in the rearview mirror, and they exchanged knowing smiles. Bess could be on an arctic iceberg and still manage to find a cute guy.
George and Bess were cousins as well as best friends, but they were complete opposites. George had short, curly dark hair, dark eyes, and the long, toned body of an athlete. Bess was blond with a short, curvy body and a two-track mind—boys and food.
“Okay, I’ll admit this is a fairly gorgeous place,” Bess said, forgetting her fears long enough to raise the brim of her hat and peer around. “But I’ll still be glad to get off this road. How much farther to Club High Adventure?” Then she added with a low mutter, “As if we need more adventure after this!”
“Not too far,” Nancy assured her.
“Hey,” George said, “for a few minutes there I almost forgot we’re here on a case.” She made a sweeping motion toward the pine- and alder-covered hills that rose sharply to the left of their jeep. “I was only thinking about getting on my hiking boots and tackling these mountains.”
Bess glanced at Nancy with a small, worried frown. “Do you think it’s going to be a dangerous case?”
“It doesn’t sound all that serious. And it’ll probably take only a day or two to clear up.” Then she laughed. “But how many times have I said that, and then it’s turned out to be just the opposite?”
At the age of eighteen, Nancy had established herself as a world-class detective. As the daughter of a well-known criminal attorney, Carson Drew, Nancy received many cases through her father. This one at Club High Adventure was no exception.
Marva Phillips, the daughter of an old college friend of Mr. Drew, had called him about the problems she was having with the club she had inherited at her father’s death three years ago. Mr. Drew suggested that Nancy was just the person to help find a solution to the death threats Marva’s guests had been receiving.
Although no real attempt had been made against anyone, Marva was afraid that her business would be ruined. On the phone she pointed out to Nancy that there wasn’t a guest in the world who would voluntarily visit a resort where there was the possibility of being killed.
Nancy had agreed that the sooner she got to Oregon, the better. So after some hurried packing, Nancy, Bess, and George had boarded a plane to Portland, Oregon.
“Well, I sure hope we can find out who’s sending the threats and fast,” George said. “That way we’ll have time to enjoy ourselves. Just looking at that brochure Marva sent you makes me drool. A resort totally devoted to wilderness sports, like rock climbing and kayaking and spelunking—” She closed her eyes and leaned back. “Now, that’s my idea of heaven.”
“I’ll tell you what activity I think sounds like heaven,” Bess piped up, checking her windblown hair with the aid of a pocket mirror. “The evening barbecues with dancing under the stars.” She cocked her head to one side. “Do you suppose they have a cute dancing instructor?” She shook her head at her own question. “Never mind. I’ll find someone. Maybe a personal trainer. I’m glad I brought my new striped leotard—”
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Nancy said, laughing. “But do either of you see a sign?” Nancy had downshifted and slowed the jeep to almost a crawl. The high hills to their left had fallen off into a thickly wooded ravine. “Marva said there’d be a sign to mark the entrance. But I don’t see a space even wide enough to be called a driveway.”
As they rounded the next bend, Bess pointed excitedly. The sign read: “Entrance to Club High Adventure.” Nancy smiled and turned the jeep onto a narrow lane.
The gravel road climbed through a series of tight turns. Lush walls of overhanging trees on either side almost blocked out the sunlight. At ground level and nearly choking the road, light green ferns mixed with rich, dark rhododendrons, whose branches were almost solid with huge pink flowers. Nancy had to shift the jeep down to first.
“Talk about a wilderness getaway,” Bess commented. “I almost expect to see Big Foot jump out from behind a rhododendron.”
“You never know,” George said. “This is the northwest. And if there really is a Big Foot, this is his stomping ground.”
“Thanks. I really needed that.” Bess groaned at George’s joke. “How much farther, Nan?”
“Not too far, I hope. I’m glad we went for the four-wheel drive,” Nancy said as their jeep bumped along the narrow gravel road.
“Yeah,” George said. “We’d never make it if we’d listened to Bess and rented that red sports—” She broke off as they took the last steep turn. Suddenly they were out of the woods and at the top of the cliff.
Ahead of them lay a gentle sloping meadow, in the middle of which sat a cluster of buildings. Rising behind these were steps of increasingly taller hills, which finally led up to the high coastal mountains.
“That must be the main lodge,” Nancy said, stopping the jeep long enough to take in her surroundings. She was pointing to a long, low contemporary structure of redwood and glass that sat at the edge of a sparkling crater lake. There were three small sailboats on the water, tacking into the breeze.
“Hmmm—that looks great,” George said, watching the boats. “And it’s one sport where I don’t need lessons.”
“Yeah,” said Bess with a snort. “Along with karate, deep-sea diving, bicycling— Hey, check that out,” she exclaimed. She was pointing almost directly overhead. “What kind of kite is that? It’s huge.”
Nancy stopped the jeep. The three girls hopped out and looked up to see a large yellow kitelike object floating above them.
“It isn’t a kite, Bess,” George said when she got a good look. “It’s a hang glider. See, there’s the pilot.”
The glider had circled so that now they could see a white-helmeted figure hanging below the glider’s sail. The pilot was holding onto a bar similar to that on a trapeze.
“That’s the control bar,” George explained, pointing.
“Now, that’s something I’d really like to learn how to do,” Nancy said with enthusiasm.
“Definitely,” George agreed.
“What’s definite,” Bess said with a shudder, “is that you two are insane if you want to try anything that dangerous.”
“Aw, come on, Bess,”
George coaxed. “Nothing could be better than flying on your own steam.”
“You know what my idea of fun is,” Bess retorted. “A pool, a bronzed hunk, and—Hey, that’s pretty weird, the way that guy’s flying that thing. What’s he doing, anyway?”
“I don’t know. Maybe some new kind of maneuver.” George was frowning.
The glider had stopped making its wide, lazy circles, and was instead stuttering with short jerks in midair. All at once, the yellow material began to ripple and then flap in the wind, as the glider rocked back and forth.
“Nancy!” George grabbed her friend’s arm. “Doesn’t it look like that guy’s in trouble?”
As she spoke they watched the pilot frantically maneuvering the control bar, first pushing, then—apparently realizing that was the wrong move—pulling it back against himself. As he did, the glider’s nose dipped, the flapping stopped, and he appeared to be in control again.
“Whew,” George said. “He’s okay. Boy, that was scary. For a second I thought he was going to cr—” She stopped talking, mouth open.
The glider had once more come to a shuddering stop. This time, though, before the pilot could do anything, it started to fall, spinning toward the ground just in front of them.
“He is crashing!” Bess screamed.
Chapter
Two
WE’D BETTER SEE what we can do to help,” Nancy said, already running.
Bess didn’t move at first but watched in horror as the glider crashed in a crumple of aluminum tubing and gaily colored material.
Seconds later all three of them had reached the crash site. Nancy was afraid they might be too late to help. The pilot wasn’t moving, and the fall had jarred his protective helmet loose. As Nancy knelt beside the still form of the pilot, she saw a spill of shiny auburn hair surrounding the pretty face of the now unconscious young woman.
“That’s no guy!” Bess said, stating the obvious. “Do you think she’s going to be okay, Nancy?”
“There’s no blood that I can see,” Nancy said over her shoulder to her friend. “But she’s out cold.” Nancy ran her hands along the girl’s arms and legs. “Nothing seems to be broken. Still, I think you should take the jeep and go for help, George.”
“Looks like help’s on the way.” Shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun, George was looking up the road at a dark green minivan that was barreling toward them.
With a spatter of gravel the minivan skidded to a stop. The driver and his passenger were already out and running before the loosened gravel had a chance to settle back into place. Both were dressed in what Nancy decided must be the club’s unisex uniform for staffers: khaki shorts and dark green polo shirts.
As the young female passenger dropped to her knees beside the fallen woman, Nancy recognized her as Marva Phillips—there was no mistaking the elfin face and cap of honey blond hair. She’d seen a photo of Marva in the club’s brochure. There’d also been a photo of her companion, from whose tanned features and sun-streaked light brown hair Nancy recognized Marva’s assistant, Gil Forrest.
“Oh, no!” Marva cried out as she saw the injured woman’s face. “It’s Lisa Gregson.” Marva seemed to be speaking to no one in particular as she blurted out, “Is she—is she—”
Nancy started to answer. But before she could, Marva had leapt to her feet and was facing the driver of the van. “What kind of lousy instructor are you, Gil?” she yelled. “This is all your fault. How could you have allowed this to happen? Lisa’s hurt—maybe dead.” Marva nervously put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, this is awful—just awful.”
“She’s not dead,” Nancy said in a voice loud enough to get the club owner’s attention. “But she is injured and could have a concussion. A doctor should examine her as soon as possible.”
At that moment Lisa’s eyes fluttered open. “Wh-what happened?” she asked weakly. Then her eyes focused and she looked past Nancy to Gil. “I don’t understand. Something was wrong with the glider. . . . wouldn’t respond to . . .” She winced suddenly, obviously in pain. “Ouch, that hurts,” she said after touching the side of her head.
“This young lady’s right,” Marva said, meaning Nancy. “Lisa should see a doctor. Maybe we should take her to the hospital in Newport.”
“No!” At the suggestion Lisa had jerked up to a sitting position. “The last thing I want is to go to any hospital.” Gil was supporting Lisa, his arm about her shoulders. “I’m all right,” Lisa insisted. “I just have a little headache. That’s all.”
“Well, if you’re sure . . .” Marva appeared to hesitate. “All right. But we’re going to call the club doctor and have him check you over, just to be sure. In the meantime, you’ve got to take it easy.” She turned to Gil. “We’ll drive her to the infirmary.” She paused, then gave a little shake of her head. “Gil, I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she said in a lowered voice. “We’ll talk about this later.”
Gil’s reply was a cold shrug as he helped Lisa to her feet.
Marva turned to speak to Nancy. “Thank you for your help.” She put out her hand. “I’m Marva Phillips. I own Club High Adventure.” She nodded her head in Gil’s direction. “And this is my assistant, Gil Forrest.”
Nancy smiled. “I’m Nancy Drew, and these are my friends.” She introduced Bess and George, then suggested they ride back to the club together. “It would be a good chance for us to talk,” Nancy added.
Marva managed a wan smile. “I’m so glad you’re all finally here. And, yes, I think it’d be a good idea for us to ride back together.” She glanced at Gil. “Can you handle Lisa by yourself?”
“I can manage,” Gil answered curtly.
Nancy couldn’t help noticing the unhappy frown that slipped across Marva’s face as Gil held his arm longer than necessary around Lisa’s waist.
“Oh, Marva.” Lisa smiled at her sweetly, then allowed her head to drop weakly on to Gil’s shoulder. “Would you mind stopping by my cabin to let my roommates know I’m all right? I was supposed to meet them for lunch. Now that I’m going to the infirmary, I don’t want them to worry.”
“Sure, Lisa. I’ll be happy to do that.” Nancy could see Marva was barely able to keep her eyes off Gil as he helped Lisa into the van and went around to the driver’s side. Finally, as Gil drove off with Lisa, Marva turned back to Nancy.
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you,” she said again. “Especially after this accident.”
“After all the threats, do you think this really was an accident?” Nancy asked as she stepped over to the damaged glider and began to examine it. But since she didn’t know much about hang gliders, she wasn’t sure what to look for.
“I hate to think it could have been deliberate,” Marva said as she watched Nancy. “But it is possible. Lisa was the first to receive a threat.”
“But it could have been an accident, couldn’t it?” Bess had picked up Lisa’s helmet and was handing it to Marva.
“Yes, but Lisa’s had some experience. And, despite what I said to Gil, he is one of the best hang-gliding instructors around.”
“What Lisa said about the glider not responding makes me wonder,” Nancy said thoughtfully as she stood back from the glider. “I think you should send someone out to see that no one touches this glider until Gil can look it over. I’d like his opinion on whether or not the glider was sabotaged.”
“I’ll do that,” Marva agreed as the four walked to the jeep and climbed in. “Let me show you to your cabin. We can talk afterward.”
Marva directed as Nancy drove. “Take the road that cuts to the left, past the clubhouse,” she said as they drove past the main complex.
Gil had parked the minivan and was helping Lisa from the front passenger seat. A crowd of curious guests had gathered.
“I honestly hope she’s as fit as she looks,” Marva commented drily. “I know it’s insensitive of me, but if anything is seriously wrong with her, my insurance could easily be canceled. And her father is the kind of man who would
sue me for everything I have.”
“What kind of insurance company would cancel a policy because of one accident?” George asked. “That’s what insurance companies are for.”
“Not when one accident is coupled with everything else that’s been going on here,” Marva said. “Oh, Nancy, you’ve just got to help me. I’m already at my wit’s end. And after this”—she gestured to Lisa hanging onto Gil’s arm—“I just don’t know what to do.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Nancy assured her. “To do whatever I can to find out who’s behind these threats. I won’t leave until I do.”
Marva smiled a little and relaxed enough to point out a tiny flowered meadow and stream where, she said, deer came to drink every evening. Nancy was only a little surprised that Marva could go so quickly from being proud and confident to being on the verge of tears. The threats were clearly taking their toll on her.
They continued on the road several more yards to an area of individual redwood-and-glass cabins, perched in the middle of dense woods but still within a hundred yards of the rocky coastline. Marva directed Nancy to pull up in front of the third one.
“Every cabin has its own special view,” she explained as she helped them with their luggage. “Yours looks out over the mountains. The one next to you”—she pointed to a cabin just visible between the trees—“looks onto that deer-grazing area. That’s Lisa’s cabin. Her roommates are Sara Lakin and Kirsten Peterson. Oh, that reminds me. I’ll have to tell them about Lisa as soon as we’re finished.”
Marva didn’t look too eager to break the news to Lisa’s roommates about her accident. But she shook herself and tried to smile as she let Nancy, Bess, and George into their cabin.
Inside, the girls’ cabin was a subtle combination of luxury and comfort. Two roomy bedrooms, each with its own full bath, opened onto a living room with a cathedral ceiling and stone fireplace.
“This must be the VIP cabin!” Bess exclaimed, dropping her yellow duffel bag on the cream-colored carpet. She plopped down on one of the two turquoise couches that flanked the fireplace. “All I need now is something to eat. It seems like hours since we had breakfast. And with the time change, it’s way past our lunchtime.”