The Mystery at Lilac Inn - Carolyn Keene [36]
At this point Nancy happened to notice that Jean Holmes was taking in the scene with avid interest. For a fleeting moment the sleuth detected a hard, calculating look replacing Jean’s usually shy expression. But the next moment the waitress picked up a tray and went toward the kitchen.
In the meantime, Maud had also risen. “By all means call the police. It’s about time they learn the truth,” she said, with a scornful glance at Nancy. Declaring she had lost her appetite, the woman left the room.
Pale and trembling, Emily sat down. “I’m sorry,” she said weakly. “I just couldn’t take Maud’s arrogance another minute.”
“I don’t blame you,” Helen spoke up sympathetically, then whispered, “At least Maud didn’t act as if she were mixed up with the theft of the diamonds.”
“That’s right,” Dick conceded. “But where do we go from here? Unless this mystery’s cleared up, we may not be able to open the inn in July. Also,” he added glumly, “Emily and I might have to postpone our wedding.”
“Oh, no!” Emily wailed.
Dick said he could foresee no other course of action. His funds were low, and if he and Emily were to make a success of the resort, the necessary outdoor work must be completed. A pool and tennis courts, yet to be built, had been especially featured in his publicity campaign.
“I’ve already mailed out thousands of brochures,” he said.
“Yes, and we’re booked almost solid for summer reservations,” Emily said unhappily. “Oh, Nancy, what shall we do? I hate to give up hope of getting my diamonds back.”
Nancy replied firmly, “I’m not giving up. If you agree, Emily and Dick, there are a few more angles of this case I want to investigate. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to tell Lieutenant Brice the whole story.”
The engaged couple readily consented. “Nothing matters now except finding out the truth,” Emily said.
After lunch Nancy drove to Benton. For privacy, she telephoned the State Police officer from a booth in the drugstore there. When Nancy had finished her account, he assured her he would do all he could to turn up possible new leads to Nancy’s impersonator. Then Nancy called Chief McGinnis. The typed envelope, he said, had brought no results.
“I’ll confer with Lieutenant Brice about happenings at Lilac Inn. By the way, no luck yet in finding the stolen truck.”
Nancy’s next call was to her father. Mr. Drew confessed alarm upon hearing the details of his daughter’s meeting with her double. “No telling what she and her accomplices may be up to,” he warned. “But whatever you do, Nancy, don’t overstep anyone’s legal rights.”
“I’ll remember.”
By the time Nancy returned to the inn, it was late afternoon. The sky had filled with black clouds, and the air was close and oppressive. “There’s going to be a thunderstorm,” Nancy thought as she entered the lobby.
No one was in sight. But just then Mr. Daly came from his office. He said that nothing had been found to account for the quakelike vibrations.
“I’m afraid, Mr. Daly,” Nancy said, “that the cause is man-made. How, I don’t know yet.”
The former owner of the inn was shocked. “To think this fine building must endure such treatment!” He told Nancy that the inn had been built in 1760 by an English family, and had catered to both stagecoach and river travelers. The inn had passed from one generation of the original family to the next. “Some people said that Lilac Inn was a refuge for slaves who had escaped from the South.”
“Maybe that’s why the secret room was built,” Nancy remarked. “Who owned the inn previous to you?” she asked.
“A Spaniard named Ron Carioca who’d lived in the West Indies. It was he who planted the beautiful lilac tree—for good luck—outside the front entrance.”
Just then Mr. Daly’s phone rang, and he excused himself to answer it. Nancy walked on into the dining room and looked out the bay window. The sky was getting darker each minute.
“Oh, hello, Miss Drew.” The voice was Jean Holmes’. She carried a large vase filled with yellow iris and reddish-purple