095 An Instinct for Trouble by Carolyn Keene Read Free Book Online Page B

ways,”
    she began, “a marmot would be better off with us than in the wild. We’d give it such a good home,” she cooed. “Gerald and I are staunch animal rights supporters. Why, I’ve even be-
    come a vegetarian.”
    Nancy noticed the startled expression on Bess’s face, but before she could figure out what caused it, their broiled trout had arrived.
    After lunch the Turkowers excused them-
    selves, saying they planned to drive to Yellow-
    stone Lake.
    “That couple is definitely phony,” Bess said in the main lobby.
    “What makes you say that?” Nancy asked.
    Bess rolled her eyes. “If Edith is so into animal rights,” she demanded, “why was she wearing a sweater with a mink collar?”
    “Maybe it was fake fur,” Nancy suggested.
    “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