Читать книгу A Ghost In The Closet - Mabel Maney - Страница 13

“Despite our queer encounter with that devious dognapper, all in all I’d say it’s been a lovely day,” Cherry exclaimed as she slipped off her ballerina flats and stretched out on the wide back seat of Nancy’s snappy canary-yellow convertible. It was a soft summer night and the little group was as happy as could be. Nancy and Cherry were contentedly curled up in the back seat while Midge was behind the wheel, expertly steering the automobile down the country lane leading to River Depths. She had one arm around Velma, who was humming a gay tune.

The girls had made quite a day of it; first the Dog Show and the exciting rescue of the purloined poodles, then a leisurely supper at a quaint restaurant overlooking the lake, and to top it off, a romantic movie at the Royale followed by scrumptious chocolate sodas at an inexpensive but clean corner drugstore.

Midge grinned. She had a crisp new fifty-dollar bill in her wallet—her reward for returning Mrs. Meeks’ diamond dog collar—and her girl by her side.

“It’s been a great night, hasn’t it?” Velma sighed contentedly as she snuggled closer to Midge.

“Sure has,” Midge replied. That evening had been fun, but their earlier experience at the Dog Show had left her feeling uneasy. Who could relax knowing innocent dogs all over town were in danger of being snatched? “If only we could have caught that fellow,” Midge thought to herself. “Nancy, do you think—” but she stopped when she realized no one in the back seat was listening. Cherry and Nancy appeared to be lost in their own world, one of summer evenings spent round a windswept lake.

“Lake Merrimen is certainly one of the loveliest bodies of water I’ve ever seen,” Cherry chirped happily, recalling the sight of the large, limpid lake ringed by giant paper birches, the best-loved tree in America. As dusk fell, the inky black water reflected the starry skies and the creamy white bark of the tall, elegant trees shimmered in the moonlight. Cherry made a mental note to write a letter that very night to her nurse chums back in Seattle describing the high white clouds, deep blue water, boats and passengers in bright summer clothing that dotted the calm surface of the crystal-clear lake.

Cherry, an Idaho girl, secretly wondered what it would be like to be a Lake Resort Nurse and spend her summers cautioning vacationers about the dangers of sunstroke, or to be a Prairie Nurse in a nifty tan uniform warning people about the hazards of grass allergies. Either job, Cherry knew, would be a challenge!

“Why, I could be happy being an Illinois Nurse,” she suddenly realized. She snuck a peek at Nancy, who was leaning on the door of the car, her titian-haired mane blowing in the warm breeze. Her eyes were shut, but Cherry could tell by the contented expression on her face that she was having the very same thought!

“Golly,” Cherry gulped. All day long, she had wished Jackie was with them, but now she couldn’t get over how lovely Nancy looked in the warm glow of the midsummer moon. Suddenly the tender feelings she had once had for Nancy came flooding back.

Just then Nancy opened her eyes and gave Cherry a winsome smile. “Lake Merrimen is everything I said it would be, isn’t it?” Nancy asked softly.

“It certainly is,” Cherry enthused. “Imagine seeing for myself a Midwestern lake whose water is purported to cure chicken pox and halitosis,” she cried.

“Next visit, we’ll use my boat, the Swift Sleuth, and I’ll take you to the spire of rock that juts up from the middle of the lake. It’s called Treasure Island,” Nancy promised with a twinkle in her eye.

“Now I know firsthand why they call this part of the country America’s Playland,” Cherry chirped. “Why, a girl could spend years exploring all its natural wonders!”

Nancy gave Cherry’s hand a warm squeeze. “I was so hoping you’d say that,” she sighed happily.

Golly, was Nancy asking her to stay in Illinois? To spend her life bringing comfort to sick Midwesterners? Cherry quickly fumbled about for a topic that would steer the conversation away from a future of which she was still so unsure.

“Although you explained it earlier, I still don’t understand how that man managed to vanish in a puff of smoke,” she began. “It simply isn’t possible. Why, it defies all known laws of gravity and science!”

All he had left behind was the large black trunk now safely stowed in the trunk of Nancy’s convertible, and a small pile of pink powder which Nancy had scooped up in her handkerchief and stowed in her purse for later analysis.

“While his disappearing act was certainly a clever trick, it’s one any professional magician could replicate,” Nancy reasoned, switching in a flash from a starry-eyed romantic to the level-headed detective known and loved by all. She added, “Why, when I was working on The Case of the Ill-Timed Illusion, I went to Professor Casmire Cardini, the world-famous magician, for help. He taught me one important lesson: things are seldom what they seem.”

“But he disappeared in a cloud of smoke,” Cherry insisted. “He opened his umbrella, smoke appeared and he was gone. I saw it with my own eyes!”

At this, Nancy chuckled. “That’s what makes it seem like magic,” she said. “He most likely used the smoking powder as a diversion so he could slip away, change his outfit and walk out of the arena disguised as your average dog lover. It’s an old illusionist’s trick. In fact, I’ve seen stage shows where master magicians have made elephants, lions and even whole houses seemingly disappear!

“Why, Professor Cardini once demonstrated an illusion in which a woman was transformed into a man!”

“Goodness,” Cherry cried. As a trained nurse, that was something she’d certainly like to see!

“Many is the time I’ve found a mystery to be nothing but an illusion hiding the truth. This is frequently true of cases involving ghostly hauntings,” Nancy told Cherry in a modest tone.

Cherry shivered. She was by nature logical and clear-thinking, but still, the thought of ghosts sent a little shiver down her spine. She pulled her thin summer cardigan around her shoulders. Nancy, seeing her distress, put her arms around her chum and held her close. She began stroking Cherry’s neck with a slow, gentle motion that made Cherry quiver in the queerest way.

Just then Midge swerved into the circular drive in front of the stately Clue residence. Cherry flew right out of Nancy’s arms.

“Sorry,” Midge grinned. “I almost missed the driveway. Oh, look, Jackie’s home,” she cried enthusiastically upon spying a light from Jackie’s second-floor bedroom in the charming three-story brick house. “Hey, Jack, we’re back,” she hollered.

“Honey, you’ll wake the neighbors,” Velma cautioned.

Midge nipped her girlfriend gently on the ear. “I’ll wake the neighbors? Who’s the noisy one in this family?” she teased. Even in the moonlight, Cherry could see Velma turn bright red. The flushed girl hopped out of the car and headed inside the house, Midge hot on her heels.

“I simply must get out of this dusty dress,” Nancy murmured in Cherry’s ear. “Shall we go to my room and find something cool to slip into? I’ve got two pairs of shantung silk lounging pajamas—one creamy white, and the other, the palest of pink. They would be divine on a warm night like tonight.”

Cherry had to admit she was feeling decidedly wrinkled. “I’ll take the ice cream to the freezer first,” she volunteered. Housekeeper Hannah Gruel, who was tucked in bed recovering from the heart attack she had suffered while in prison falsely accused of the murder of Nancy’s father, would turn seventy-two in just two days, and the girls were planning a quiet celebration to honor the woman who had been like a mother to Nancy since the death of her real mother twenty-two years ago.

“Swell,” Nancy breathed excitedly. “I’ll meet you in my room.”

While Nancy raced upstairs, Cherry deposited the fresh-churned frozen concoction in the deep freeze of the cheerful modernized yellow and white kitchen. “This is the very room in which Carson Clue was shot,” she shivered, staring at the linoleum in front of the Frigidaire where the well-known attorney had lain. She had to admit she was still a little shaken up by all the talk of ghosts. Just then Cherry felt something brush her calf. “Eek!” she cried, spinning around to find, much to her relief, that it was only Nancy’s little terrier, Gogo, playfully nipping at her ankles.

“Phew,” Cherry breathed with relief. She reached for the box of crunchy dog biscuits at the back of the counter and accidentally knocked a tea cake off the platter piled high with treats that Velma had baked especially for Hannah’s birthday party. Gogo immediately pounced on the sweet, and quick as a bunny, pushed open the screen door and fled. Cherry raced after her.

“I hope she doesn’t make herself sick,” Cherry thought worriedly as she searched the fragrant garden for the small dog. She had stomach-ache potion in her first-aid kit, but she had no clue how much to give a terrier. It didn’t matter—Gogo was long gone.

Cherry sighed. From where she stood, she could see Nancy’s bedroom window, her light ablaze. “I’d better get upstairs before Nancy starts to fret about me,” Cherry thought. But she couldn’t bring herself to go inside just yet. Somehow, she just didn’t feel ready to face Nancy—or those shantung silk lounging pajamas!