Nancy Drew Files – Case 95 – An Instinct for Trouble

“No way!” Bess scoffed. “I can tell the dif-

ference, believe me.”

“Come on, Bess. I just saw the Turkowers

head out the front door. I want to check out

their room.”

Nancy led the way to the house phones and

asked the switchboard for the Turkowers. After

half a dozen rings, the operator said, “Sorry,

Room three twenty-six doesn’t answer.”

Nancy and Bess climbed the stairs to the

third floor. At the Turkowers’ door. Nancy

rapped lightly, then tried the knob. It was

locked. After a quick glance up and down the

hall, she pulled a small case of lockpicks from

her shoulder bag and went to work. A few

moments later the door sprang open.

“Bess, you stand guard while I search the

room,” Nancy said. Bess nodded and Nancy

slipped inside.

Like the room Nancy and Bess were sharing,

this one had rough-hewn plank walls, brass

beds, and an old-fashioned washstand com-

plete with porcelain bowl and pitcher. The

window looked out onto a steaming geyser

field.

Nancy opened the oak wardrobe in the

comer. The right side held women’s clothes.

To her amazement, there were only three out-

fits hanging there. Nancy had expected Edith

to be like Bess and bring virtually everything

she owned.

She moved to the dresser and started pulling

drawers open. Quickly, she riffled through a

pile of men’s shirts and sweaters. She came up

empty-handed.

As she pushed the drawer closed, she noticed

that it seemed to be sticking. She pulled it all

the way out and held it up so she could see the

underside. There was a manila envelope taped

to the bottom of the drawer.

Carefully removing it, she opened the enve-

lope and pulled out a sheet of fax paper. There

were no headings, simply a list of animals,

each followed by a dollar amount and one or

two locations. She scanned the list, her eyes

stopping at an entry that said: “Whistling

Marmot-$400-$500-Yellowstone Park.”

Someone had inked a little star next to it.

Shocked, Nancy realized that she was look-

ing at a list of how much wild animals would

bring on the black market.

Taking care not to crease the fragile sheet,

Nancy put it back in the envelope and retaped

it to the underside of the drawer. Then she

took one last peek at the room to make sure

she hadn’t left anything out of place and

slipped out the door.

On the way downstairs, she told Bess what

she had found.

“Well, that settles it,” Bess declared. “I

knew right from the start that Edith and

Gerald weren’t ordinary tourists. They’re in

the marmot black market up to their necks.”

Nancy frowned. “I still think someone from

the Emerson group has to be involved, too. All

the thefts, not to mention Brad’s and Ned’s

injuries, point to an inside job.”

“What’s next. Nan?” Bess asked.

“Let’s head out and find Richard and Piker.

I want to ask them a few questions about what

they were discussing with the Turkowers,” she

said.

Bess rolled down her car window, but the

breeze was too chilly, so she put it up again.

The road led along the bank of the Firehole

River, kept warm by the hot springs in its bed.

A layer of white mist hid the surface of the

water. Nancy slowed down as they passed the

Fountain Paint Pots, a series of pools turned

vivid colors by the algae that lived in them. All

at once she hit the brakes.

“What is it?” Bess asked, alarmed. “Is some-

thing wrong?”

“Look-in the middle of those aspens,”

Nancy replied, pointing.

“What is it?” Bess repeated. “A bear?”

“No, it’s a van,” Nancy said. “And if I’m

not mistaken, it’s the same one that tried to

run me off the road this morning.”

“Are you sure?” Bess gasped.

Nancy nodded and pulled onto the shoulder

of the road. Getting out, she walked down a

dirt trail toward the half-concealed van. As she

approached, she saw the words Minden Linen

painted on the side.

“This is it,” she said over her shoulder. “You

can see the dent where it grazed off the tree.

And look.” She pointed to a streak of white

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