The Clue on the Crystal Dove

dark, and she squinted in Nancy's direction.

  Nancy moved into the slice of light near the door-

  way. “Violet? It's Nancy Drew.”

  “Nancy!” Violet exclaimed. “Goodness me! Don't we

  end up in the oddest places together? What are you

  doing at Fern Hill? You say you're lost?”

  “Yes,” Nancy replied. “I'm staying at my aunt

  Eloise's cabin on the other side of the lake. I was out

  canoeing, but then it got dark and now I can't find my

  way back.”

  “What a coincidence that we both decided to travel

  to the Adirondacks today,” Violet said, her lavender

  hair puffing out from under a golf cap. “But we did

  have some rough times this past week, what with all

  those strange things going on at the house. I simply

  couldn't handle it a moment longer, and I see that you

  couldn't, either. Are your two nice friends with you?”

  “We're all staying at my aunt's cabin,” Nancy

  replied.

  “But you were out on the lake alone,” Violet scolded,

  shaking a skinny finger at Nancy. “What if your canoe

  had capsized? No one would hear from you again.”

  “I'm a good swimmer,” Nancy told her.

  “Ah, but this lake can be deadly,” Violet pro-

  nounced. “It's not to be trusted. Would you like to rest

  up inside before you start home? It would be lovely to

  chat with you for a while, Nancy.”

  Nancy followed Violet inside. Shooting a glance at

  the box Violet had been holding, Nancy saw that it was

  full of old letters.

  A thrill went through her. But when Violet sat down

  in a nearby chair, Nancy's excitement turned to

  frustration. How can I sneak a look at the letters with

  Violet here? she wondered.

  “Uh, Violet,” Nancy said, pulling up the zipper of

  her sweatshirt, “I'm a little cold from being out on the

  lake for so long. Could I have a cup of tea, please?”

  Violet shot up from her chair. “Where are my

  manners?” she muttered. “Of course you may have

  some tea, my dear. Excuse me.”

  The moment Violet turned her back, Nancy kneeled

  down by the cardboard box. She slipped off her

  sweatshirt and got to work. On the top of the box were

  letters addressed to Van Hoogstratens she hadn't heard

  of. But as she dug deeper, she found a letter addressed

  to Julius Van Hoogstraten, with Gustav Kinderhook's

  return address.

  With mounting excitement, Nancy opened the let-

  ter. “Dear Julius,” she read, “It's lucky for me that I'm

  fluent in English because I wouldn't want my wife and

  daughter to look over my shoulder as I write and know

  my distressing news.

  “I have discovered that you are passing off my

  glasswork as your own. A fellow Dutch glassworker,

  Hans Guilder, saw your collection when he attended a

  party at your house as an escort to a young lady you'd

  invited. Maybe you did not realize that Hans was a

  colleague familiar with my work. If you had, you

  probably would not have allowed him inside.

  “Hans was interested to learn that you'd created a

  display of glass birds when you'd lived in Holland. But

  the moment he saw them he was suspicious because

  they are so distinctly my own style. And when he saw

  my olive branch upon the crystal dove, he was

  convinced of your treachery. He immediately told me

  about your terrible deed.

  “Yes, Julius, you did buy the birds from me before

  you went to America because you had always admired

  them, but you did not buy the right to tell the world

  that you had made them. I can't believe that you—my

  former pupil and employee—would do such a thing.

  What has the world come to when you betray an old

  teacher such as myself?

  “I am highly displeased. I am planning to correct

  your act of piracy by letting the world know that I am

  the true creator of your beautiful ornithological display.

  Mark my words, Julius, you will be shamed before

  everyone. Sincerely, Gustav Kinderhook.”

  Nancy looked up to make sure that Violet wasn't

  there. Sure enough, she was still bustling around in the

  kitchen, slamming cabinet doors and singing to herself.

  Nancy folded the letter and stuffed it in the pocket

  of her sweatshirt lying on the floor. Then she dug back

  into the box. Even if I don't find anything else, Nancy

  thought, this letter proves that the Van Hoogstraten

  Collection is a fake.

  As she searched in the box, Nancy felt a pang of

  sadness as she thought about the Van Hoogstraten

  family. They had believed their ancestor had this great

  artistic talent, when all he had really created was a

  terrible deception. He must have been desperate to be

  known for something other than his wealth, Nancy

  thought.

  Nancy's gaze focused on a letter with familiar

  handwriting near the bottom of the box. This one was

  also addressed to Julius with Gustav's return address.

  Nancy opened the envelope.

  “Dear Julius,” she read, “I want to thank you for the

  $10,000 that you sent me to buy my silence. Rest

  assured that I will tell no one I am the true creator of

  your glass bird collection.

  “I took your money reluctantly. If the money had

  been for me, I would have reported your fraud and not

  accepted the payment, but I desperately need it to pay

  my sick daughter's medical expenses. She has been

  very ill, but the money can buy her an expensive new

  treatment. There is finally hope for her. I must be

  grateful for that, even though I hate myself for

  participating in your rotten scheme.

  “I trust this will be the last of our letters. Sincerely,

  Gustav Kinderhook.”

  As Nancy's eyes scanned the last line, she paused.

  Someone was behind her—she could tell. Violet with

  my tea? she wondered.

  A sharp blow cracked down on her head, and Nancy

  crumpled to the floor, too stunned to cry out. As she

  lay on the floor helplessly, she could feel her legs being

  lifted up and her body hauled toward the open front

  door.

  From the kitchen Violet's cheerful voice rang out,

  “Nancy, dear, do you take cream and sugar in your

  tea?”

  Nancy thought about screaming for help. But even if

  she could muster up the strength, what good would it

  do? she wondered. Violet was no match for this person,

  and anyway the lodge had no phone. The attacker

  seemed pretty strong, and if Violet tried to get in the

  way, she might end up hurt, too.

  Nancy closed her eyes, pretending to be uncon-

  scious. After all, she reasoned, she was too weak to

  fight, and she might as well gather her strength. She

  had a feeling she would need it later.

  The person stopped at the porch stairs and lifted

  Nancy up. A low grunt made Nancy realize that her

  attacker was a man.

  Hoisting her onto
his back, the man headed toward

  the lake, his footsteps thumping on the path. Nancy's

  head hung below his shoulders, and in the dark, she

  had no way of telling who he was.

  A bolt of lightning ripped through the sky, but all

  Nancy could see was the bottom of a pair of blue jeans

  tucked into sturdy hiking boots.

  Thunder blasted through the air. Seconds later

  Nancy saw her aunt's canoe below her on the shore.

  The person laid Nancy down inside it. Then he pushed

  the canoe into the dark water and climbed inside.

  Sitting in the back, he began to paddle. The canoe

  made hardly a sound as it glided over the calm lake

  water.

  Slowly Nancy felt her strength returning. Deciding

  that she could fight back if she had to, Nancy sneaked a

  glance at the person above her.

  15. Birds of a Feather

  A chill went through Nancy as lightning illuminated the

  steely eyes of Alden Guest.

  The lightning died, and a thunderclap instantly

  followed. The skies opened, and a torrential rain swept

  over the lake, lashing the water brutally. But Nancy

  could still see Alden, staring ahead as he rowed with

  firm, swift strokes.

  Alden's eyes flickered toward Nancy as he switched

  his paddle to the other side of the canoe.

  His gaze locked with hers. “So you're awake,

  Nancy,” he snarled. “I'll have to do a better job on you

  this time.” He raised his oar to strike her as she lay at

  the bottom of the canoe.

  Nancy didn't wait another second. As lightning

  flashed through the sky again, she raised her leg and

  karate kicked Alden in the chest.

  Knocked off balance by Nancy's attack, Alden

  dropped the paddle in the water as his arms flailed in

  the air. The canoe rocked wildly back and forth, and

  Nancy remembered Aunt Eloise's warning that it could

  carry only one person safely.

  More lightning lit up the sky as they struggled to

  right the canoe. But it was no use. Seconds later the

  canoe tipped over, plunging them into the water.

  Sheets of rain pounded the canoe. Nancy held onto

  it as she yelled for Alden. “We've got to get off the

  lake!” she cried. “The lightning.”

  Alden popped up on the other side of the canoe.

  “Not until I've taken care of you,” he cried, then dis-

  appeared below it.

  He's going to pull me under the water, Nancy

  thought. She began to swim, taking strong even strokes

  as she forced herself to stay calm. But which way is the

  closest shore? she wondered, her eyes struggling to

  penetrate the thick darkness.

  Another streak of lightning lit up the lake for what

  seemed like an eternity, and Nancy saw the shore

  about fifty feet away.

  Something splashed behind her. Nancy shot a look

  over her shoulder before the lightning died. Adrenaline

  shot down her spine. Alden was gaining on her.

  Nancy plunged ahead, expecting Alden to grab her

  ankle at any second. Thunder echoed across the lake as

  Nancy swam. Her arm muscles ached with the strain of

  swimming, and she choked down waves that slammed

  into her whenever she gasped for air. But no matter

  how hard it was to swim in the middle of the storm, she

  forced herself to press on.

  I've got to swim faster, she told herself. I can't let

  him catch me.

  A blinding flash and then a blast like an explosion

  ripped apart the air. Nancy whirled around. Flames

  engulfed a tree on a small island behind her. Lightning

  had struck it, she realized. She could be next— or

  Alden. But where was he?

  A dark form rose up on her left. Nancy put her face

  back in the water and pressed on, her arms moving like

  knives as they sliced through the lake. She couldn't

  think about how tired she was. She had to keep

  moving.

  Nancy felt something gripping her legs. Alden! she

  thought, with a stab of fear. But no—it was something

  soft and slimy, slick with algae. No matter how hard

  she tried to escape from its clutches, it wouldn't let her

  go.

  Nancy reached into the water and tugged at the

  weeds, trying to free her legs. But she was completely

  tangled. A shudder ran through her—she felt as if an

  octopus or a lake monster had snagged her from the

  deep.

  Nancy jerked at the stems in frustration. She tried to

  move again, but it was as if she were in a nightmare.

  No matter how hard she struggled, her legs wouldn't

  move.

  Nancy heard a splash about five feet away. Alden

  would be on her in seconds.

  Nancy yanked desperately at the weeds that bound

  her legs, but they were too tough. She swiveled toward

  Alden, getting ready for a fight.

  Alden suddenly started thrashing. “I'm stuck!” he

  sputtered, his voice panicked.

  Summoning all her energy, Nancy yanked the weeds

  once more. Relief flooded through her as the stems

  snapped. Finally she was free.

  Skimming the surface of the water to avoid the

  weeds, Nancy shot toward shore. As she dragged

  herself from the chilly water, she scanned the area of

  the lake where she had last seen Alden.

  Nancy started. Alden was five feet behind her, rising

  from the water on the rocky shore.

  The rain poured over them as Alden held up a knife.

  “I had my penknife in my pocket,” he explained.

  “Those weeds couldn't keep me down for long.

  Surprised, aren't you, Nancy?”

  He stooped to pick up a rock. With that in one hand

  and his penknife in the other, he marched toward

  Nancy.

  “You think you can escape from me, Nancy?” he

  growled as lightning flared through the sky. “I must

  admit you were a challenge for a while, but now I've

  finally got you.” He laughed, eyeing Nancy pitilessly.

  “You don't have me yet, Alden,” Nancy countered,

  trying to edge around him.

  “I'll knock you out with this stone and throw you in

  the lake, and no one will ever suspect me,” Alden

  declared. “Eloise will think you drowned when your

  canoe capsized in the storm.”

  For a split second Alden stared at her, his face a

  mask of hatred as more lightning glowed. Then he

  rushed her, holding up the stone. But Nancy was

  quicker. In two quick karate moves, she kicked the

  stone and the penknife from his hands. Shocked, Alden

  stepped back.

  Nancy didn't give him a moment to relax. With one

  more kick in the chest, she knocked him to the ground.

  “Hey, Nancy!” George's voice rang out from the

  porch of Fern Hill as a flashlight glimmered. “Guys, I

  think she's down there. I see a shadow by the lake.”

  “I'm here,” Nancy yelled back, “with Alden.”

  “Alden?” she heard Bess gasp.

  “Nancy, be careful. We're coming,” Aunt Eloise

  cried. “The sheriff is w
ith us.”

  “The sheriff?” Alden moaned as he lay on the

  ground. Leaning on his elbows, he gazed despondently

  at the group dashing down the path from Fern Hill.

  “Then it's all over for me.”

  Seconds later the sheriff appeared—a stout, middle-

  aged man—followed by Bess, George, and Eloise

  Drew.

  The sheriff went straight to Alden, pulled his arms

  behind his back, and clamped a pair of handcuffs on his

  wrists. “The moment I stepped onto the porch of Fern

  Hill,” he said, “I saw you attacking this young lady—

  before George alerted everyone that she was here.

  That bolt of lightning lit you up. Young man, I'm

  arresting you for assault at the very least.” Looking at

  Nancy, he added, “I'm impressed by your self-defense

  skills. Those were some karate kicks.”

  “Thanks,” Nancy said, smiling. To Aunt Eloise,

  George, and Bess, she added, “So how did you guys

  know that I was in danger here? I mean, you actually

  brought the sheriff.”

  “I can explain everything,” the sheriff said. “Eloise

  called me the moment the storm started, because she

  was worried that you were out on the lake. Since my

  police station isn't far from her house, I picked up

  Eloise, George, and Bess on my way to Fern Hill. I

  thought there was a good chance you'd taken refuge

  here, and I wanted to check it out before searching the

  lake. I knew there was no phone here, so you wouldn't

  be able to call your aunt.”

  “Oh, Nancy, I'm so glad you're okay,” Aunt Eloise

  said, hugging her. “My goodness, you're completely

  drenched. Let's get you back to the cabin. Violet has

  made a roaring fire.”

  A few minutes later Violet handed Nancy a cup of

  tea and a dry towel. “Stand here by the fire, dear. You'll

  be warm in no time. Of course, you could borrow some

  of Julius's second wife's clothes,” Violet added

  doubtfully. “They've been gathering dust in her closet

  all these years. In fact, I was just cleaning out that

  closet when you first arrived.”

  “Don't worry, Violet,” Nancy said, setting her teacup

  on a table while she dried her hair by the fire, “my

  clothes will dry out soon, thanks to your great fire.”

  “What a shocking thing you've done, Alden,” Violet

  declared, glaring at him as he stood inside the lodge

  with the sheriff. “You've wounded our family pride.”

  “Time to get going,” the sheriff said. “I've got to get