report? It’s near the north entrance,” he con-
tinued.
Nancy followed him back up the road to the
ranger station.
Once inside and settled in a chair, she
watched while Robbins filled out a report. “I
don’t suppose you got the license number?”
Nancy shook her head ruefully. “Sorry,
things happened too fast. I did notice the
words Minden Linen painted on the door of
the van. Does that mean anything to you?”
“It’s the biggest linen service in this area. All
the hotels in Yellowstone get their sheets and
towels from there. I know their chief dispatch-
er. I’ll call him,” Martin suggested.
Even though she only heard Martin’s half of
the conversation. Nancy could tell that some-
thing was wrong.
“Well?” she asked eagerly once he had hung
up.
“One of their drivers, Bert Heckleby, missed
a couple of deliveries this morning,” Martin
replied. “He’s not answering calls on his radio
either.”
Could someone have paid Heckleby to at-
tack her? Or stolen his van?
“I get the feeling that there’s more to this
than you’re telling me,” Martin said.
Taking a deep breath. Nancy explained
everything, including the propane stove explo-
sion and the missing marmots.
Martin nodded. “Jack’s kept me up to date
on the problems, but he’s not convinced the
marmots are being poached. He thinks some-
one may be trying to sabotage the study.”
“That’s a possibility,” Nancy replied. “But
traps and tranquilizers have been stolen. That
points to poaching.”
The ranger frowned. “I did pass on word of
this to the people at the Fish and Wildlife
Service,” he said. “But there’s no telling what
they’ll do about it. I wish I could help more,
but I simply don’t have the staff.”
After Nancy told Martin that she was a
detective, he grinned and nodded apprecia-
tively. “I’d welcome any help you can give, but
be careful. Poaching is dangerous business-
especially when big money is at stake.”
“I understand that whistling marmots can
bring as much as five hundred dollars apiece
on the black market,” Nancy remarked. “If
fifty of them really were stolen, the poachers
stand to make twenty-five thousand dollars.”
Martin glanced above Nancy’s shoulder.
She turned to see Jack Billings at the open
door of the office.
He grinned at her and put a slide projector
on the table in the comer of the room. “That
ought to work now, Martin. Hey, Nancy. What
brings you here?”
“You’d better look after this girl. Jack,”
Martin cautioned. “Somebody doesn’t like
her. A guy in a van just tried to run her off the
road.”
“What? Are you serious?” Jack moved clos-
er to Nancy and put his hand on her shoulder
solicitously. “Are you okay? You want me to
drive you back to the hotel?”
“No need,” Nancy replied. “I’m on my way
to visit Brad, anyway.”
She thanked Martin and then walked out-
side with Jack. The morning sun glinted
against the dent in the side of the white rental
car.
“You need to be more careful. Nancy. I’d
feel terrible if anything happened to you.”
“So would I,” she joked. She couldn’t help
feeling attracted to him, but the warmth and
concern she saw in his eyes made her feel
awkward. “I’ll tell Bess I saw you,” she added
pointedly.
“Please do. She’s a great girl,” Jack said,
smiling. “I’ll see both of you later, right?”
Nancy got into her car and drove off with
only a wave for an answer. On the way to the
hospital, she kept thinking about Jack. She
hoped Bess wasn’t getting into something
she’d regret.
* * *
Brad’s face broke into a welcoming smile
when he saw Nancy. “Hi. It’s great to see you.”
“Hi yourself,” she replied, dropping into a
chair by the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Great! The doctor said I’ll be out of this
place in a day or two.”
“I’m glad.” Nancy leaned forward. “Listen,
Brad, I want to talk about the problems the
study’s been having. Did you find out anything
while you were investigating?”
“The professor is in real financial trouble,”
Brad replied reluctantly. “I found lots of
overdue bills in his tent. You know he’s put his