didn't exactly act guilty. Which makes me think she
   didn't have a hand in kidnapping Jade.”
   “Do you still think Jade's disappearance might be
   connected to the Drakes?” George asked her.
   Nancy nodded. “It's possible. But we need more
   facts. We also need to find Mr. Drake. I want to check
   out his reaction when he sees you.”
   The string quartet stopped playing, and a woman in
   a red dress got up on the stage and tapped briskly on
   the microphone. “Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. I
   want to introduce our main speaker for this wonderful
   event, which was organized by SFEC, the Southern
   Florida Environmental Coalition, for the purpose of
   saving our precious manatee population.”
   The crowd broke into wild applause. “Let's try to
   find Mr. Drake,” Nancy whispered to George.
   Just then Nancy noticed something out of the corner
   of her eye. Griffin Carey—Jade's boyfriend—was
   standing by the buffet table.
   What's he doing here? Nancy wondered.
   Then Nancy noticed something else. Griffin was
   talking to an attractive blond woman. Their heads were
   bent very close together, as though they were
   discussing something very personal or confidential. The
   woman was dressed in a long, dark purple dress.
   There was something familiar looking about the
   woman. Who is she? Nancy wondered. And what is
   Griffin doing with her?
   Nancy tried to make her way over to the two of
   them, but before she had a chance, a wave of people
   cut in front of her, trying to get closer to the stage. By
   the time she and George got to the buffet table, Griffin
   and the blond mystery woman were gone.
   “Oh, great,” Nancy muttered in frustration.
   Just then she noticed something else. Mr. and Mrs.
   Drake were standing across the room, talking. At one
   point, Mrs. Drake turned around and pointed to Nancy
   and George. Mr. Drake nodded, and they continued
   talking.
   What was that about? Nancy wondered curiously.
   Did Mrs. Drake just tip her husband off that George
   wasn't Jade Romero?
   By the time Nancy and her friends got back to
   Flamingo, it was late in the afternoon. After making
   plans to meet for dinner, Susan said goodbye and went
   off to work.
   George and Bess started walking back to their cabin.
   Nancy stopped in the middle of the path. “Wait up,
   guys,” she called out. “I want to go over to the marina
   to see if I can find the motorboat from last night. You
   guys want to come with me?”
   “The motorboat from last night? Why?” George
   asked her.
   Nancy shrugged. “Just a hunch. I want to make sure
   that what happened to Bess was an accident.”
   “Sure, no problem, as long as I don't fall into Florida
   Bay again,” Bess joked.
   The three girls headed toward the marina. The air
   was thick with humidity. Palm trees cast long shadows
   across their path. As they walked, they discussed the
   benefit at the Coconut Beach Club.
   “We know this much,” Nancy said. “Mrs. Drake
   definitely knew Jade. She acted surprised when she
   saw you, George. But she didn't act guilty, which
   makes me think she wasn't involved in any weird foul
   play against Jade.”
   “What about Mr. Drake?” Bess pointed out.
   “We didn't get a chance to talk to him, so there's no
   way to tell. Maybe we can figure out some other way to
   run into him by accident.' “
   Nancy stopped to kick a pebble that was lying in the
   path. “I'm land of wondering about Griffin,” she went
   on. “I wish I knew what he was doing at that party, and
   who that blond woman was.”
   “He sure got over Jade fast,” George remarked.
   “You can say that again,” Nancy agreed.
   After a while the girls reached the marina. There
   were lots of people milling around: park employees,
   tourists, sailors rigging up their boats. Seagulls wheeled
   through the air, squawking noisily. A group of children
   were sitting on the dock, laughing and eating ice-cream
   cones.
   Nancy glanced around, assessing the situation. “You
   take that dock over there,” she told Bess, pointing to
   the dock on the left. “I'll take this one. George, you
   take that one.” She nodded to the dock on the right.
   “What are we looking for, exactly?” George asked
   Nancy.
   “A motorboat with a name that starts with the letters
   P-A-N,” Nancy replied.
   The three girls took off separately. Nancy went from
   boat to boat, checking out the names. There were a lot
   of fun names: Queen of the High Seas, Gone Fishin',
   Salty Dog, Sink or Swim. But Nancy didn't come across
   any that started with PAN.
   After a while Nancy and her friends headed back to
   their cabin. Bess and George hadn't had any luck
   either. “It's possible that the Pan-whatever motor-boat
   doesn't have a permanent docking space here,” Nancy
   said to Bess and George as they walked through the
   front door of their cabin.
   Bess took her pink rhinestone sunglasses off and set
   them down on the front hall table. “Do you think the
   same guy who was driving the gray car was driving that
   motorboat, too?” she asked Nancy.
   “It's possible,” Nancy replied. “It's also possible that
   the two events are totally unrelated. In any case, we
   should—”
   Then she stopped. She glanced around the living
   room, frowning. Something wasn't quite right,
   something was out of place.
   She saw what it was. One of the wooden chairs had
   been knocked down.
   Nancy whirled around. “Bess? George? Did you
   guys knock that chair down?” she demanded.
   “No,” Bess replied. George shook her head.
   Nancy glanced around the room, looking for any-
   thing else that might be out of place. All of a sudden,
   she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. There
   might be an intruder in the cabin!
   Nancy put a finger to her lips, indicating to the girls
   that they should be silent. She walked very quietly over
   to the bedroom, reached for the light switch and
   flicked it on. The room was empty.
   The bathroom door was open. Nancy glanced inside
   quickly, then checked the shower—no one was there,
   either. She checked under all three beds. There was no
   one under any of them.
   “Nancy, what is it?” Bess whispered frantically from
   the living room doorway.
   “It's nothing, false alarm,” Nancy started to say.
   Then she stopped. There was something on the
   headboard of her bed—something that hadn't been
   there that morning.
   Nancy walked over to her bed. When she saw what
   it was, she gasped.
   Someone had stuck a note to the headboard with a
   big hunting knife. The note said: “Drop this case or
    
					     					 			you'll end up like Jade Romero.”
   10. An Alligator Encounter
   Her heart hammering in her chest, Nancy stared at the
   warning note and the hunting knife. First the
   eavesdropper, then the gray car trying to run them off
   the road, then the motorboat incident—and now this.
   The case had become much more intense and
   dangerous than she'd ever expected.
   Bess and George came rushing up to her. “Nancy,
   what's going on?” George demanded.
   Nancy pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket, then
   carefully extracted the hunting knife from the
   headboard. She didn't want to mess up fingerprint
   evidence, if there was any.
   She turned to Bess and George and held up the
   knife and the note. Bess clamped a hand over her
   mouth and stifled a scream.
   “A-a-a knife?” she sputtered. “Someone stuck a knife
   in your bed?”
   “ Drop this case or you'll end up like Jade
   Romero,'” George read out loud. “Hmm, this isn't
   good. Someone's threatening us.”
   “Well, it's definitely not a love letter,” Bess pointed
   out.
   Nancy sat down on the edge of the bed and took a
   closer look at the note. The letters had been cut out of
   newspaper headlines and glued onto the paper to form
   the message.
   She touched the letters carefully with her fingertip.
   The paper was still a little damp.
   The person just put this note together today, she
   thought.
   “Someone's definitely trying to keep us from solving
   this mystery,” Nancy said. “Someone, or maybe a
   couple of someones working together.”
   George held up her hand and began counting. “The
   eavesdropper, the driver of the gray car, the motorboat
   driver—unless that whole thing was a coincidence—
   and whoever left us the knife souvenir. Are they all the
   same person? I guess that's the question.”
   Bess marched over to the phone and picked it up.
   “It's time to bring in the big guns. We have to call the
   police and tell them about this . . . this hunting knife
   incident.”
   Nancy was about to tell Bess to go ahead, but then
   she had a thought. “Put the phone down, Bess,” Nancy
   told her.
   Bess frowned at her. “Huh? Why?”
   “I don't want to tell the police just yet,” Nancy
   replied. “I have another idea.”
   Bess hung up the phone and made a face. “What
   other idea? It had better be good because this case is
   getting way, way too scary.”
   Nancy smiled. “We're going camping—back-country
   camping. In Whitewater Bay, via the Wilderness
   Waterway.”
   “Cool,” George said.
   “Not cool,” Bess protested. “I'm not even interested
   in plain-old-everyday camping. Which means that I am
   definitely not interested in going back-country
   camping. Which means that I am definitely, definitely
   not interested in going backcountry camping in some
   place called the Wilderness Waterway. It sounds too
   wild.”
   “We're going,” Nancy said firmly. “We need to solve
   this case once and for all. And going to the scene of the
   crime is the only way”
   “Crime? What crime?” George asked her.
   Nancy smiled grimly. “Whatever crime made Jade
   Romero disappear from the face of the earth,” she
   replied.
   “Backcountry camping?” Susan gasped.
   Susan, Nancy, Bess, and George were in the
   cafeteria, having dinner when Nancy told Susan her
   idea about going backcountry camping.
   Outside the window, the sun was setting over
   Florida Bay. A few lone fishing boats bobbed on the
   horizon.
   Nancy was really excited about her plan, and she
   hoped she could convince Susan to go along with it.
   She was ticking off a mental checklist of supplies they
   would have to gather: tents, sleeping bags, flashlights,
   batteries, backpacks, containers for food and water,
   and so forth. It had been a long time since she had
   gone camping, and she wasn't familiar with the
   Everglades.
   “Tell her she's crazy, Susan,” Bess demanded. “We
   need to stay right here to solve the Jade Romero mys-
   tery, not go traipsing around in the mud or whatever.”
   She speared a piece of broiled grouper, a popular
   local fish, and popped it into her mouth. “Besides, what
   are we going to eat if we're out there in the jungle?”
   she went on. “Berries or twigs or something?”
   Nancy glanced over her shoulder. Some volunteers
   at the next table were staring at their table curiously.
   They must have overheard Jade's name, she thought.
   She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Look. I
   don't know why I didn't think of this idea before. It
   makes perfect sense. We need to go back-country
   camping in Whitewater Bay, where Jade disappeared.”
   “But the park rangers and police have already been
   there,” Susan pointed out.
   Nancy nodded. “True. But it can't hurt to take
   another look. We might be able to find some clues the
   search party missed.” She added, “Worst-case scenario,
   we might get some new insights into the mystery.”
   “That's a good point,” Susan agreed. She slapped her
   knees. “All right, I'm in. I'll see if I can get a couple of
   days off work.”
   Nancy grinned. “Great!”
   “There'll be showers there, right?” Bess asked
   Susan.
   Susan laughed. “Showers?”
   “Okay, well, sinks, then? Mirrors?” Bess persisted.
   Susan laughed again.
   Bess turned to Nancy. “Do I have to go? Can't I just
   stay at Flamingo and hold down the fort or
   something?”
   “Sure, you can stay here just in case our friend
   comes back to the cabin with another threatening note
   and another hunting knife,” George said to her cousin.
   Bess's blue eyes widened. “Hmm. Now that you
   mention it, maybe it's time I tried this backcountry
   camping thing. I mean, I've gone camping before. So
   what's the difference, right? So we're going to some
   place that's got stingrays and alligators and no showers.
   I'm tough, I can handle it.”
   Just then Griffin walked by, tray in hand. At first he
   didn't seem to notice the girls.
   Nancy really wanted to talk to him, to ask him some
   questions about Jade and about the Manatee benefit.
   She waved to him, trying to flag him down. “Griffin!
   Hey, Griffin!” she called out.
   Griffin stopped. Nancy wasn't sure, but he looked
   sort of annoyed. “Oh, hi,” he muttered.
   “You want to join us?” Nancy said.
   “I'm just on my way out, actually,” Griffin replied.
   “Thanks, anyway.”
   “Before you go, I wanted to ask you some stuff about
   Jade,” Nancy said.
   Griffin hesitated. “I really am in kind of a hurry—”
   Nancy smiled. Why was he acting so unf 
					     					 			riendly?
   “This'll just take a minute. Okay?” she persisted.
   Griffin put down his tray on the girls' table, pulled
   over a chair, and sat down. “Okay. I really don't like
   talking about her, you know? It brings back a lot of
   memories.” He sounded sad all of a sudden.
   “You poor thing,” Bess sympathized, putting her
   hand on his arm.
   “Thanks for understanding,” Griffin said. Then he
   turned to Nancy. “Okay, what did you want to ask me?
   I'll do the best I can.”
   “Was she—Jade—involved in any environmental
   groups that you know of?” Nancy asked him.
   Griffin shrugged. “No, not that I know of. I mean,
   definitely not. She would have told me if she had
   been.”
   “Do you know if she knew Bill and Esther Drake?”
   Nancy said.
   “You mean those developers? I'm not sure.” Griffin
   added, “Hey, speaking of the Drakes. I saw you guys at
   the Manatee benefit yesterday. Did you have fun?”
   “It was a blast,” Bess said. “Really good shrimp
   cocktail!”
   “We saw you there, too,” Nancy said to Griffin.
   “Who was your friend?” she added.
   Griffin looked confused. “Friend? What friend?”
   “The blond woman,” Nancy said. “You know, long
   purple dress?”
   Griffin shrugged and shook his head. “I'm not sure
   who you're talking about. I was there alone. Maybe it
   was just some stranger I was talking to. I don't know.”
   He scooted his chair back and stood up. “Listen, I
   really do have to run. So if you don't have any more
   questions . . .”
   “If I think of anything else, I know where to find
   you,” Nancy said with a smile.
   Griffin smiled back. Then he waved goodbye and
   headed for the exit.
   After he left, Nancy turned to her friends. “I don't
   think Griffin was completely honest with us,” she said.
   “That blond woman wasn't just some stranger he ran
   into. I wonder what he's hiding?”
   Susan frowned. “Blond woman—blond woman—
   you know, I saw Griffin with her, too. You said she was
   wearing a long purple dress, right?”
   Nancy nodded. “Right.”
   “And she had a purple cell phone,” Susan went on,
   taking a sip of her iced tea. “I remember her phone
   because it was so cool-looking.”
   Nancy started. “Purple cell phone? Are you sure?”
   “Yes, definitely,” Susan replied. “Why?”
   Nancy remembered the woman at the Café Blue