after a moment. “I'm not sure. You should ask Griffin.

  And in answer to your second question—yes, she was

  concerned about preserving the Everglades. Everyone

  who works here is really, really concerned about that.”

  Nancy fell silent. She thought about what Susan had

  said and made a mental note to talk to Griffin as soon

  as possible.

  Bess got up and went over to the railing. “Wow,

  sunset cruises are so cool.”

  “Bess, be careful,” Susan warned her. “Don't stand

  so close to the railing.”

  “I'm fine, I'm holding on tight,” Bess said. She bent

  down and pointed to something in the water.

  “Ohmigosh, look, there's the cutest little osprey or

  heron or whatever swimming around down there—”

  Just then a motorboat passed by, going way too fast.

  Nancy saw the name of the boat out of the corner of

  her eye. Pan-something, she noted. Panther, maybe?

  The motorboat circled the Seabreeze, kicking up

  more water, then sped back toward the Flamingo

  marina. The Seabreeze bobbed wildly in its wake.

  “Oh, no!” Bess cried out. She lost her balance, and

  went over the railing.

  8. Mistaken Identity

  Nancy stared in horror as her friend slipped overboard.

  Bess hit the dark water with a loud splash. “Help!”

  she screamed. “Hellllp!”

  Nancy leaped to her feet. So did George and Susan.

  “Susan, tell Jody and Michael to stop the boat!” Nancy

  shouted.

  “Okay!” Susan turned and rushed off.

  Nancy glanced down at Bess, who was bobbing

  around in the sunset-streaked waves. Bess, who was a

  good swimmer, had panicked, Nancy could tell. She

  wasn't even trying to swim. At least she has her life

  preserver on, Nancy thought. In the distance Nancy

  could hear the motorboat gunning its engines and

  speeding back in the direction of Flamingo.

  “Nancy, there are sharks in the bay!” George cried

  out.

  “I know. She's panicked. I'm going in after her.”

  “What do you want me to do, Nan?” George asked

  calmly.

  “Stay here and keep an eye out for—for sharks.”

  Nancy shook off her leather sandals. “Hang on, Bess!”

  she shouted. Then she executed a perfect dive into the

  water.

  The warm, salty water swirled around Nancy's head.

  She came up for air, sputtering for breath. She saw

  right away that Bess was just a couple of feet from her.

  “Nancy! Hellllllllp!” Bess screamed, flailing her

  arms.

  Nancy swam over to her. “Bess, just relax. I'll get

  you.”

  Bess grabbed Nancy around the neck. They both

  went underwater for a minute.

  Bess was holding Nancy's neck way too tightly.

  Coming up for air, Nancy tried to shake her off. “No,

  not like that,” she sputtered. “We'll both drown! Let

  me put an arm around you in a cross-chest carry. Come

  on, you know how to do it. Relax, it'll be okay.”

  “Oh, yeah, like I can really relax!” Bess wailed.

  Finally Bess calmed down and let Nancy help her

  back to the Seabreeze. As they swam, Nancy saw

  something out of the corner of her eye: a creature with

  its silvery black head out of the water. For a second

  Nancy almost panicked. Was it a shark? No. She

  quickly realized that it was some sort of large fish. The

  fish bobbed up again, and then swam off in the other

  direction.

  Nancy and Bess finally reached the Seabreeze. Jody

  and Michael had stopped the boat and were gazing

  anxiously over the edge. So were Susan and George.

  Nancy and Bess climbed the metal ladder that was

  attached to the side of the boat. When they got to the

  top, George offered a hand to hoist them up and over

  onto the deck.

  “Are you okay?” Susan demanded.

  “We're fine,” Nancy replied breathlessly.

  Jody handed Nancy and Bess towels. “My gosh, what

  happened?”

  “I was looking at this cute little bird or whatever,

  and I got too close to the edge,” Bess said sheepishly.

  “You're lucky you got out of there before the sharks

  got curious,” George chided her.

  All the blood drained out of Bess's face. “I was just

  starting to forget about them! George, you shouldn't

  have reminded me—now I'll have nightmares forever.”

  George glanced at Nancy and grinned apologetically.

  “I guess I shouldn't have mentioned the sharks.”

  “I guess not.”

  Jody and Michael went belowdecks to turn the

  Seabreeze back toward shore. Nancy's and Bess's

  dresses were soaked. They sat on a bench and huddled

  under layers of towels.

  “Now what?” Bess said, shivering. She ran a hand

  through her sopping-wet hair. “My hair is a total wreck,

  and I spent an hour blow-drying it today!”

  “I'm sorry our evening was ruined, girls,” Susan

  apologized. “We'll go back to your cabin, get you guys

  changed, and then drive to my favorite little lobster hut

  for dinner. My treat.”

  “Lobster, what a great idea,” Bess said.

  “Sounds good to me,” George agreed. She turned to

  Nancy. “Nan? What about you?”

  “Huh? What? Oh, lobster sounds fine,” Nancy

  replied.

  But she was lost in thought about the incident that

  had just taken place. Was it pure coincidence that the

  motorboat had been going by us so fast? she wondered.

  Or was it not coincidence at all?

  The following afternoon Nancy, Bess, George, and

  Susan arrived at the Coconut Beach Club. The club

  was a short drive from Flamingo, right on the water. It

  was in a beautiful old Art Deco building from the

  1920s. Nancy couldn't help noticing all the limousines

  and sports cars that were pulling up to the entrance.

  This is going to be a fancy party, she thought and

  was glad she and her friends had dressed up.

  Bess pulled a mirror out of her purse and examined

  her face as they opened the front door. “Do I look

  okay? Is my lipstick on straight?”

  “You look great! No one will ever know that you

  were almost eaten by sharks less than twenty-four

  hours ago,” George teased her.

  Bess glared at her. “George! You promised you

  wouldn't mention the sharks!”

  “All right, you two,” Nancy scolded. She turned to

  Susan. “I'm so glad you could come with us.”

  “Even volunteers get an afternoon off once in a

  while,” Susan said, grinning. “Besides, I'm kind of

  eager to meet the famous Bill and Esther Drake. I've

  read about them in the papers and seen them in the

  local news but never in person.”

  The four friends went inside, signed in at the

  Welcome table, and paid the entrance fee. The lobby

  was swarming with people who were dressed in

  everything from jeans and T-shirts to fancy suits and

  cocktail dresses.

  “
Isn't this a fabulous event,” Nancy heard one

  woman say to another. “Saving the manatees. What a

  fabulous cause!”

  “Yes, it is a fabulous cause,” the other woman

  agreed. “Manatees, are they some sort of endangered

  bird or something?”

  “No, darling, manatees are those enormous pre-

  historic-looking creatures that live in the water and get

  in the way of motorboats,” the first woman explained.

  “Actually, they're rather ugly.”

  Nancy and her friends proceeded into the main hall,

  which was even more crowded than the lobby. There

  was a huge buffet table at one end of the room, and a

  drinks table at the other. A string quartet was playing

  classical music.

  Nancy glanced around. “I'm going to try to find Jeff

  Kelly. George, you stay close to me, in case we run into

  the Drakes.”

  George nodded. “I know my assignment.”

  Bess frowned at Nancy. “Explain George's as-

  signment to me again.”

  “George is going to pretend to be Jade when I

  introduce her to the Drakes. That way, I'll be able to

  tell if the Drakes and Jade knew each other,” Nancy

  explained in a low voice.

  “You're the makeup queen, Bess. Didn't you notice

  that I had different makeup on?” George pointed to

  her face. “Purple eyeshadow and bright pink lipstick.

  Susan told me that's what Jade always wore, which is

  not exactly my look.”

  Bess squinted at her. “Oh, yeah. Wow, I've never

  seen you in purple eyeshadow. It's a huge improve-

  ment, actually,” she teased.

  “Thanks a lot,” George grumbled.

  “Just kidding! Gotta get you back for all those shark

  jokes,” Bess said with a grin.

  The four girls worked their way through the crowd.

  After a while Bess excused herself to hit the buffet

  table. Susan found some people she knew, and stopped

  to talk to them.

  Nancy and George continued weaving through the

  mob, trying to find Jeff Kelly. At one point they ran

  into Mrs. Fitzgerald, Susan's dorm mother at

  Flamingo.

  Mrs. Fitzgerald was dressed in a black cocktail dress

  with a Save the Manatees button pinned to it. She

  noticed George's makeup and gave her a quizzical

  smile.

  “I know, I know,” George said before Mrs.

  Fitzgerald had a chance to say anything. “The makeup.

  I really look like Jade now, don't I? I'm land of on

  assignment. Don't ask.”

  “Okay, I won't,” Mrs. Fitzgerald said, shrugging.

  “But, yes, you do look like her.”

  “So you're interested in saving the manatees, Mrs.

  Fitzgerald?” Nancy asked her.

  Mrs. Fitzgerald nodded. “Of course! This is a very

  worthy cause.”

  “I couldn't agree more.” Nancy glanced around. “By

  the way, do you happen to know Jeff Kelly?”

  “Jeff Kelly?” Mrs. Fitzgerald repeated. “That name

  sounds so familiar.”

  “He's the leader of CAMC. Citizens Against

  Manatee Commons,” Nancy explained.

  Mrs. Fitzgerald nodded. “Oh, yes, him.” She glanced

  around the room, then pointed. “It's that man over

  there, standing to the right of the door. He's wearing a

  maroon tie.”

  “Thank you.”

  Nancy and George headed over to the door. Jeff

  Kelly was a middle-aged guy with a rugged build,

  graying-black hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was

  dressed in a gray pinstripe suit. He, too, wore a Save

  the Manatees button.

  Nancy introduced herself and George. “We talked

  on the phone yesterday,” she reminded Jeff.

  Jeff's blue eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah, right. You were

  interested in chatting about Manatee Commons.” Jeff

  glanced at George. “You—you look familiar. You've

  been to some of the CAMC meetings, right?”

  George glanced at Nancy, waiting for a cue. Ob-

  viously, she wasn't sure whether she should pretend to

  be Jade or not.

  Nancy smiled at Jeff. “Actually, she hasn't. But we're

  wondering if someone who looks a lot like George has

  been to the CAMC meetings. Her name is Jade

  Romero.”

  “Oh, yeah, Jade Romero. Wow, you two do look

  alike,” Jeff said to George. “Yeah, this Jade girl's been

  to a few of our meetings. I haven't seen her around in a

  while, though.”

  Nancy nodded. “Would you say that Jade is—was—a

  pretty major player in CAMC?”

  Jeff started. “A major player? No, you could hardly

  call her that. She came to a few of our meetings, that's

  all. She took some of our literature.”

  Nancy considered this new information. One theory

  about Jade's disappearance was that she'd been deeply

  involved in the opposition against Manatee Commons

  and that the Drakes had targeted her in some personal

  way. But according to Jeff, Jade had not been a big part

  of CAMC. Of course, that didn't mean she hadn't been

  a thorn in the Drakes' side in some other way.

  But either way, did the Drakes have a hand in Jade's

  disappearance?

  First, I have to figure out if the Drakes knew Jade to

  begin with, Nancy thought.

  Just then a familiar face drifted into her line of

  vision. Mrs. Drake was walking through the center of

  the room, away from the buffet.

  “Excuse me, Jeff,” Nancy said to the CAMC leader.

  She grabbed George's arm. “Come on, George. I

  mean, Jade. You're on!”

  George looked confused. “Huh?”

  “Esther Drake at three o'clock,” Nancy explained.

  The two girls made their way through a crowd of

  people. Nancy went up to Mrs. Drake, who had

  stopped to admire a painting on the wall.

  Mrs. Drake was dressed in a beautiful blue suit.

  Pinned to the right side of her collar was a panther

  brooch made entirely of diamonds. On the left side of

  her collar was a Save the Manatees button. She was

  nibbling from a plate of hors d'oeuvres.

  “Mrs. Drake?” Nancy called out. “Hello, what a

  surprise!”

  Mrs. Drake turned around. Her eyes fell on Nancy.

  “Oh, hello, dear! What are you doing here? Covering

  the event for your newspaper—what was it, the Coral

  Gables Times? The Fort Lauderdale Falcon? I am so

  bad with names.”

  Then Mrs. Drake noticed George, and gasped. Her

  plate of hors d'oeuvres slipped through her fingers and

  fell to the floor.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked George.

  9. A Warning

  The plate of hors d'oeuvres hit the floor with a loud

  crash. Crackers, cheese, celery sticks, and canapés

  scattered everywhere.

  Mrs. Drake didn't even seem to notice that she'd

  dropped her plate. She continued to stare at George

  with a flustered expression.

  Nancy glanced at the older woman and tried to

  suppress a smile. Bingo, she thought. Mrs. Drake
r />   knows Jade. Does that mean Mr. Drake knows Jade,

  too? Nancy couldn't imagine that Mrs. Drake knew

  Jade, but not Mr. Drake.

  A waiter rushed up to them with a broom. “Here, let

  me clean that up,” he offered.

  Then Mrs. Drake came out of her spell. She blinked

  at George, a blush creeping across her cheeks. “I'm

  sorry, my mistake! I—I thought you were someone

  else,” she stammered.

  “Who did you think I was?” George asked inno-

  cently.

  Mrs. Drake shook her head. “Oh, never mind. No

  one important.” She smiled at Nancy. “Nancy, right?

  I've got your name straight, finally! How are you,

  dear?”

  “I'm fine, thank you,” Nancy said. “Mrs. Drake, this

  is my friend George Fayne.”

  “Nice to meet you, George,” Mrs. Drake said,

  shaking George's hand. “Lovely party, isn't it?”

  “Yes, lovely,” George agreed.

  “Is Mr. Drake here, too?” Nancy asked Mrs. Drake.

  She wanted to “introduce” George to Mr. Drake before

  Mrs. Drake could tip him off that she wasn't Jade.

  Nancy was really curious to see how he would react to

  the Jade look-alike.

  Mrs. Drake smiled. “Yes, he's here somewhere.

  Wheeling and dealing, I'm sure, as always.”

  George stared at Mrs. Drake's brooch. “Wow, what

  a nice pin! Is that a tiger?”

  “Actually, it's a panther,” Mrs. Drake explained.

  “The panther is an endangered species here in Florida.

  And as I mentioned to your friend Nancy, we at

  Panterra Corporation care about endangered species.”

  She added, “So, George, are you a reporter, too?”

  George glanced quickly at Nancy. “Actually, no.

  That's Nancy's line of work. I'm—I'm into fitness.”

  “Oh, my, good for you,” Mrs. Drake said. “It can be

  so hard to find time for exercise! Anyway, excuse me,

  girls, won't you? I have to speak with some of those

  interesting CAMC people.”

  Nancy and George bid Mrs. Drake goodbye. After

  she had gone, George turned to Nancy, baffled. “She's

  going to talk to the group that's opposing Manatee

  Commons? I don't understand.”

  “She's either very smart or very out of it,” Nancy

  said, staring after Mrs. Drake. “I can't figure her out.”

  She added, “In any case, it's obvious from the way she

  reacted when she first saw you that she knew Jade.

  That's very interesting information. The thing is, she