087 Moving Target

  Nancy looked over at CJ and nodded. "It'd take all three of us to move that hunk," she teased. "It'll be easier to feed him."

  'And me!" said George. "I'm so hungry I could eat"—she hugged the stuffed toy that CJ had given her—"I could eat an elephant!"

  "There's a restaurant down the road," Ned said. "Let's try that."

  With arms linked, the two couples strolled out of the fairgrounds, heading toward one of the two lighted buildings on the main street.

  The restaurant was noisy and jammed with people. Nancy looked around quickly. There was no sign of Michael and Kendra, but Erik was sitting with a group at a large table. She recognized two of the group as the guys who had been playing pool in the game room earlier.

  "They must be with the cycling club from up north," CJ said.

  "Yes, the desk clerk told me that three groups are staying at Bannon House this weekend," Ned replied. "Ours is the smallest." He waved at a couple sitting at the back of the restaurant. "I played football against that guy last fall," he explained.

  Nancy scanned the room for a table. "Unfortunately, it looks as if that's the only vacancy," she said, pointing at an empty table beside Erik's group.

  "That's all right," said George. "We don't have to socialize. All I want to do is E-A-T!"

  Erik looked up as they approached, and a genial smile crossed his face. "Hey, park yourselves," he said, waving at them. He nodded at

  the student sitting at the end of the table. "Pull that table over," he ordered him, waving his hand. "The more the merrier. I'll do the introductions."

  The student jumped up and pulled the empty table next to theirs as Erik called out names.

  "What's put him in such a good mood?" George muttered.

  "Not me," Nancy whispered back at her. "Last time I talked to him he could have cheerfully killed me."

  "Erik has been telling us about his rigorous training program for you guys," one of the women at the table said. "You're really lucky to have him leading your group."

  "Just can't believe our good fortune," George mumbled to Nancy, as she sat down.

  CJ leaned over her shoulder. "Keep cool," he said. "Ned and I will go place the orders. What'll you have?"

  "Cheeseburger, fries, and a ginger ale," said George.

  "Got it," replied CJ, grinning. He and Ned walked to the counter to place their orders, and Nancy turned to the student beside her.

  "My friend George here," she said, nodding her head at the dark-haired girl, "will be in the thirty-kilometer race next month. Are any of you competing?"

  "Are you kidding?" asked the young woman, "That's for serious bikers like Erik. I'm surprised

  that your friend even signed up for it. From what Erik has been telling us, she—"

  George glared across the table at Erik. "She what, Erik? What have you been telling them? Why don't you tell me?"

  Erik smirked. "Your knee is probably going to keep you out of this race," he said. "From what I saw today, you're about as agile as—" He looked across the table at the stuffed toy in her arms. George was already getting up. "As an elephant!" he shouted after her as she ran out of the restaurant.

  Nancy caught up with George outside. "I'm sorry, George," she said, putting her arms around her. "Don't pay any attention to that jerk."

  "It's not just Erik," George said, sniffing. "It's everything! My knee brace disappears, my bike is sabotaged. Then this weird nonsalesman who carries a gun shows up and keeps offering me rides, and Kendra and Jennifer are both giving me the deep freeze. And Erik insults me publicly. I should never have come on this bike trip."

  "But then I wouldn't have met you," CJ said, coming up to the two girls.

  "True," George replied, managing a weak grin. "Did we get any food?"

  "Nope. I killed the order when I saw you leave. Do you want to go back in?"

  "Not if I were dying," George said. She motioned to a store across the street. "The general

  store is still open. They should have some munchies."

  "What happened in there?" CJ asked.

  George started to explain to CJ as Ned arrived and Nancy took his hand. "We'll meet you in front of the store," she said to them. She quickly told Ned what they had found in Michael's van, as she led him across the street to a phone booth. "This shouldn't take long," she said, and handed him the panda. Ned leaned up against the booth to wait.

  When she came out, she looked glum. Ned handed her the panda, and she hugged it as she said, "The only Michael Kirby the police have a record on is fifty-three years old and serving time."

  The two of them headed down the street to meet up with George and CJ. The store, the only other lighted building on Main Street, also served as a bus station, according to a sign outside. CJ and George were sitting on the rickety steps outside, munching on cheese and crackers. "Want some dinner?" George offered, extending the cracker box.

  "Actually," said Nancy, climbing the steps, "I have my heart set on an ice cream bar."

  "Dessert!" said George. "Sounds good."

  The four of them trooped inside and headed toward the freezer.

  "Don't you kids ever go home?" asked the man behind the counter. "I'm about ready to lock up. Where are you from, anyway?"

  "We're on a bike trip from Emerson College," Ned answered. "We won't be long. We just want some ice cream bars."

  "Emerson, huh? Well, I had one of your bunch in here tonight earlier, asking about a post office and a bus to Cleveland."

  Nancy frowned. "What did this person look like?" she asked.

  "Didn't notice," the man replied grumpily.

  "But can you remember anything about the person? Anything at all," Nancy persisted.

  He scowled. "She had kinda blond hair and was 'bout that tall." He wagged a finger at George, then shook his head.

  "For the life of me," he said, "I can't figure why she was so desperate to get out of town."

  Chapter Eight

  "Sounds like Jennifer," Ned whispered to Nancy.

  She nodded slightly as the man continued. He seemed to be warming up to his subject now.

  "She was wearin' kind of a bright green sweatshirt. I remember the shirt because I said she must be Irish. Said she wasn't. Didn't talk much. She didn't exactly ask for Cleveland. Said she wanted a bus that didn't go to Emersonville. I told her that no more buses were coming through tonight, but a bus headed for Cleveland would be coming through on Monday. She seemed real disappointed. And then she left without buying anything but a newspaper."

  "Thanks for your help," Nancy told him, letting Ned pay for the ice cream bars. When they were outside again, she turned to him. "Why would Jennifer want to catch a bus? A bus that did not go to Emerson?"

  Ned shrugged. "I haven't the foggiest idea."

  "Asking about a post office is odd, too," George said. "What would she have to mail?"

  CJ looked from one to the other and shook his head. "Boy, you guys are something else," he said good-naturedly. "You can make a mystery out of almost anything. She didn't go to the fair, so she stayed in her room and wrote a letter to her boyfriend or her mother or something!"

  "Maybe you're right," George said. She was feeling guilty that they hadn't told CJ about Michael's threat or finding the gun in his van, and he didn't know that Jennifer had lied about working on Friday night. Nancy had asked George to keep it quiet because until they had more information, talking about it would only cast more suspicion on people who might be innocent.

  "You up for a game of Ping-Pong?" Ned asked Nancy as they approached Bannon House. Lights were still burning in the game room, although most of the rooms upstairs were dark.

  "Not tonight," Nancy said. "George and I have some stuff we have to take care of." She ignored George's surprised look and continued. "But I bet CJ will take you on. We'll see you guys in the morning." Her panda under one arm, she grabbed George's arm with her free hand and hurried her off toward the stairs.

  "Boy," said George as they walked down the sec
ond-floor hallway toward their room. "You sure can wreck a girl's love life pretty fast. You don't even let me get walked to the door." She tipped her head to one side as though deep in thought. "Let's see," she said slowly. "This 'stuff' we have to take care of. It wouldn't have anything to do with Jennifer, would it?"

  Nancy laughed. "As a matter of fact, yes." She pointed to a sliver of light showing under the door of the room almost directly across from theirs. "Look, somebody's up."

  "She's rooming with the charming Ms. Matthews, right?"

  Nancy nodded. She knocked gently on the door. There was no answer. She knocked again.

  "Strange," said George. "Maybe she's gone somewhere."

  "Only one way to find out," said Nancy. She put her hand on the knob and turned it slowly. The door was unlocked. Gently she pushed it open and stepped into the room, with George behind her. The small light on the dressing table between the two beds cast a dim light in the room. A cluster of pill bottles and cosmetics covered one side of the table, next to an empty bed. The other side held only an alarm clock.

  Jennifer was sleeping in the second bed, the blanket drawn up to her chin.

  "We'll talk to her in the morning," Nancy whispered, motioning for George to back out.

  Suddenly Jennifer sat up, startled, grabbed a book, and flung it at them. George held up the stuffed animal to deflect the book.

  "Jennifer, it's okay. It's Nancy and George." Nancy reached over and quickly flicked on the overhead light.

  "Okay?" Jennifer's voice wavered. "You scared the life out of me! What are you doing in here?"

  "Look, we're sorry we frightened you, but we saw the light on," said George. She picked up the book from where it lay in front of her and handed it back to Jennifer.

  Jennifer's voice trembled. "Seeing a light on doesn't mean you can barge into someone's room."

  "I know. We're sorry," Nancy said quickly. "We shouldn't have come in, but the door was unlocked."

  "The door was unlocked because Kendra came back from the fair to get something, and she left her key on the bed when she went out again." Jennifer pulled her knees up and tucked the blanket around her legs. "What do you want her for?"

  Nancy moved closer to the bed. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you. I was curious about why you asked at the store about a bus—"

  "And why you were looking for a post office," George chimed in.

  "What?" Jennifer said. "Since when is it a crime to ask about a post office? Or a bus schedule?"

  "I thought you might be planning to check out on us," Nancy replied. "A lot of strange things have happened in the last twenty-four hours, including George's 'accident.'"

  "I didn't have anything to do with that!" Jennifer's eyes darted from one to the other, and an undertone of fear crept into her voice. "You believe me, don't you?" She looked away. "It's none of your business, but the truth is I'm not having much fun on this trip. I was thinking of cutting it short."

  "But the store owner said you wanted a bus that wasn't going back to Emersonville," George said.

  Jennifer shrugged. "Where else would I go? He must have misunderstood. And as for the post office, I have a monthly tuition plan, and the payment is overdue. Now are you satisfied? You can believe it or not."

  "I'd like to believe it," Nancy said. "I really would."

  For a minute she considered asking Jennifer why she'd lied about working at the diner the night before, and whether she knew the night manager who'd been arrested for the burglary. But then she reconsidered. Jennifer didn't seem ready to open up just yet.

  George, who was standing silently by the bed, looked down at a newspaper thrown on the blanket. It was folded to the article about the burglary on the Emerson campus. Jennifer's eyes followed George's gaze and traveled back up to her face.

  "Please leave," she said in a low voice.

  "Just one more thing," said Nancy, turning as she reached the door. "Where's Kendra?"

  Jennifer shook her head. "I have no idea-Somewhere with Michael."

  "See you tomorrow," Nancy said, and opened the door.

  "Whew!" whispered George, once they were out in the hall and the door to Jennifer's room was closed. "That's one nervous lady. Do you believe the story about the tuition payment?"

  "No," Nancy said. "I think she's scared and lying. But why? That's what I can't figure out."

  "Did you notice what she'd been reading in the paper?" George went on.

  Nancy nodded. "The article about the Emerson burglary. Everybody seems to be interested in that crime. First Michael, with his file of clippings. Now Jennifer. I noticed you looking at the nightstand. What was all that stuff?"

  "Three prescription bottles with Kendra's name on them. One was something for allergies. I couldn't read the labels on the others. The rest of it was cosmetics."

  "Do you have your key?" Nancy asked, as they walked across the hall to the room they were sharing.

  George nodded. "Here," she said, thrusting the stuffed elephant at Nancy. "Hold Charley."

  "Charley?"

  "Charles Jonathan, actually. I named him after CJ," she explained, as she took the key out of her pocket. "You know, Nan, he's really a special person." She slipped the key into the lock. "FU be glad to crawl into bed tonight. I'm exhausted." She pushed open the door and flicked on the light. "Nan!"

  Quickly Nancy moved past her and entered. The room was in shambles. Things were strewn on the floor and on the beds. Everything in their panniers had been dumped. Nancy's backpack had been emptied and discarded in a corner, and the pocket on George's had been ripped out.

  Nancy bent over and picked up a brown paper bag on the floor by the door. Scrawled on it in heavy black ink were the words: Get off my turf!

  Chapter Nine

  "That has to be intended for me," George muttered as she looked over Nancy's shoulder at the note. "And I'll bet my bike on the identity of the writer." She pushed her mutilated pack aside and sat down on the bed, hugging Charley around the middle.

  Nancy turned to face her. "George," she said slowly. "Maybe you need to call it quits. Drop out of the bike trip. Bess could come and pick you up."

  George forced a lopsided smile. "This is not exactly a friendly greeting," she said, waving her arm at the mess. "But, Nan, we know Kendra has both skills and experience in messing up rooms, and I'm not going to cave in to her! I promise I'll be careful, but I'm not going back early."

  "Okay." Nancy sighed. She had known before she suggested it that George wouldn't leave early. "I'm going down to the registration desk. 1*11 be back in a few minutes."

  "Nan, it's almost midnight. Nobody's going to be there."

  Nancy grinned at George and set her panda bear down beside her. "That's what I'm counting on," she said. "Take care of brother bear." She was out the door before George could answer.

  Nancy quickly ran down the stairs and glanced around. Night lights were burning in the lobby. No one was in sight.

  Nancy tiptoed to the desk and fumbled in her fanny pack for the small flashlight she carried on her key chain. The guest register was still open on the counter. Smoothing out the paper-bag note, she compared the writing on it to the signatures in the book. It only took a minute to confirm her suspicions. She clicked off the flashlight and hurried quietly back upstairs to room twenty-two.

  George had picked up some of their things and was sitting on the bed, surrounded by her biking gear. She looked up as Nancy came in.

  "What's up?" she asked.

  Nancy smiled wryly. "I just ran a handwriting check on our bag here. Kendra did it. No question about it. The handwriting matches her signature in the guest register. Big swooping O's and backhand slant. She wrote the note, but I'm not convinced she trashed our things."

  "Come on, Nan," said George. Her voice sounded tired. "She's got a history of this sort of thing."

  "I know. I'll talk to her tomorrow. Thanks for straightening up. Between us, we can pick up the rest in no time. Then let's get some sleep."

>   "Best idea I've heard in the past hour," George said.

  The next morning was gray and chilly, and Nancy topped her jeans with a V-neck sweater over a turtleneck shirt. "I guess summer is really over," she said to George, who was having trouble getting her eyes open.

  "Can't you wait till morning to get up?" she mumbled at Nancy, squinting out of one eye.

  "It is morning, silly," Nancy said. "Get up! You'll feel better when you get moving."

  "Is that guaranteed?" George asked, stretching. Before Nancy could answer, she continued. "You look as if you're going somewhere. What's on the agenda? Besides biking, that is?"

  "I'm going to have a talk with Kendra," Nancy said. She had the door open a crack and was looking across the hall. "But I'm waiting for Jennifer to leave their room. . . . And there she goes! Save me some breakfast," she said.

  "Breakfast," George repeated. "Food. Food! I knew there was some good reason I should be out of bed." She jumped up and started dressing. Nancy chuckled and closed the door behind her.

  Kendra was barely awake when Nancy knocked. She opened the door a crack and squinted at her. "What do you want?" she asked. She looked pale without her makeup, and there were dark rings under her eyes.

  "I need to talk to you," Nancy said.

  "About what?" Kendra asked belligerently, blocking the door. "I'm not even dressed."

  "About this," Nancy said, pulling the paper-bag note out of her pocket.

  "A grocery bag?" Kendra said. "You're kidding." She tried to shut the door, but Nancy's foot prevented it.

  "No, I'm very serious," said Nancy. "If you prefer, we can talk about it at the breakfast table, and everyone else can join in."

  Three guys from one of the other cycling groups came out of the room next door and gave a friendly wave to the girls. Nancy acknowledged the greeting and Kendra scowled. "Oh, come in," she said to Nancy. "I'd rather not stand out here in the hall looking like a refugee."

  Nancy bit back a smile at Kendra's reference to her appearance, and reentered the room she had been in just the night before. Jennifer's bed was made, and her backpack was propped against the wall with her helmet beside it. Kendra's side of the room was a mess.