Nancy Drew Files – Case 95 – An Instinct for Trouble

already gone upstairs.”

“So that’s where it went,” the woman said

with a tittering laugh. As she accepted the

sheet of paper she added, “Thanks for return-

ing it.”

“I’m Nancy Drew and this is my friend Bess

Marvin.”

“Gerald and Edith Turkower here,” the man

replied. “Smile!” he said suddenly. Before Nan-

cy and Bess could react, he raised the camera

and took three quick shots of them.

“I wasn’t ready!” Bess protested.

“Gerald, really!” Edith admonished. “He’s

such a camera nut.”

“I couldn’t help looking at that article,”

Nancy said casually. “Those whistling mar-

mots are so cute! Wouldn’t it be fun to have

one as a pet?”

“Oh, yes,” Edith replied. “I know a woman

back home who has three of them.”

“Edith likes owning unusual things,” Gerald

said, shooting a keen glance at Nancy.

“I know there are lots of them here in

Yellowstone. But isn’t it illegal to take animals

out of a national park?” Nancy asked, sound-

ing naive.

Gerald nodded. “Sure.” Then he smiled

knowingly. “But there are ways around that.”

Nancy’s heartbeat quickened. Did this cou-

ple want to buy a marmot? Or were they

somehow involved in the poaching scheme?

She decided to dangle a little bait and see if

one of them took it. “I might consider it, but

only if I was sure I wouldn’t get into any

trouble.”

“Nobody likes trouble,” Gerald said. To

Nancy’s disappointment, he didn’t say more

before they wandered off.

“What do you think, Nan?” Bess asked.

“Could they be stealing the marmots?”

Nancy frowned. “They seem more like buy-

ers than sellers,” she said. “But either way,

we’ll keep an eye on them.”

Somewhere downstairs a clock chimed.

Nancy glanced at her wrist. Eleven o’clock.

She was lying in the comfortable brass bed in

her hotel room.

She realized that she had had her book open

to the same page for almost half an hour. The

thought that kept running through her mind

was that Ned cared more about Professor

Trainey than he did about the truth.

Suddenly she couldn’t stand it any longer

and put her book down, stood up, and got her

jacket from the closet. A little fresh air, maybe

a drive, would clear the cobwebs from her

mind, she thought.

Nancy headed outside. The night was cold

and crisp. As she walked toward the parking

lot, she heard voices that sounded familiar.

Just then the headlights of an incoming car

swept across a small group of people about

fifty feet away. Nancy ducked behind a parked

car.

Edith and Gerald Turkower were deep in

conversation with Richard and Piker, the two

park maintenance men.

Nancy crouched down and began moving

between cars to get close enough to hear them.

But the group broke up before she got there.

She went back to her room and tried to sort

out her thoughts. The only link she could think

of between a rich California couple and two

Yellowstone maintenance men was poaching.

Would any of them know how to track the

marmots on the computer? Nancy doubted it.

Someone in the camp had to be involved.

Someone like Dan Trainey.

Nancy was still thinking when the door

opened and Bess rushed in, her face aglow.

“The disco was great!” she exclaimed. “And it

wasn’t even crowded. We had lots of room to

dance. You should have come.”

Nancy smiled. “Next time.”

“Jack is really something!” Bess fell into a

chair. “He is totally dedicated to his work and

knows absolutely everything about the park. I

just hope I can get him as interested in me as

he is in whistling marmots,” she finished with

a laugh.

Nancy smiled. “I get the feeling you had

a good time,” she said, then couldn’t help

sighing.

Bess stared at her. “What’s wrong. Nan?”

“It’s just that Ned’s upset because Dan

Irainey is on my list of suspects. I guess he

thinks his friends should be exempt from my

investigating them.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Bess said. “Ned knows

better than that. Nancy. He’s just tired and

stressed out. He’ll feel different tomorrow.”

Nancy shook her head. “I hope so,” she said.

“Hey, I know,” Bess continued. “There’s

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