Close Encounters (Nancy Drew (All New) Girl Detective Book 21) by Carolyn Keene Read Free Book Online

ahead the roadforked: The main road leading to Brody’s Mountain was to the left. I went right.
    “Where are we going?” Bess asked as the road curved sharply around a bend.
    “I have no idea,” I answered, checking my rearview mirror. As the road straightened out, I felt a wave of relief; I seemed to have lost the van, and it was simple. “I guess they weren’t really following us.”
    “You were trying to lose them?” Bess gasped in disbelief. “But why?” she asked. “We all agreed to let them shoot us.”
    “We did,” I conceded. “I just thought we were supposed to meet up with them first at the roadblock—sort of set out the ground rules.”
    “What ground rules?”
    “I don’t know. But I want to be sure they have a few—like, would you really have wanted them inside the Antique Attic to document Ellie’s little temper tantrum? Or hanging around while we eat?”
    Bess considered this a moment. “No, I wouldn’t. But, Nancy, speaking of eating . . .”
    “You can’t possibly be hungry again so soon,” I marveled.
    “No, but look up ahead. There’s a farm stand selling pure maple syrup! Let’s stop and get some.”
    “Bess!” I wanted to protest about us wasting time, but I quickly realized that I was the one whohad chosen this detour. “Okay, but . . .”
    Bess groaned. “I promise, I’ll make it quick.”
    Then I remembered how much Dad loved Hannah’s pancakes drenched in syrup. “Me too.” I laughed. “Maple syrup is the perfect present for Dad and for Hannah.” I pulled into the driveway and was greeted by the barking of what sounded like a dozen dogs.
    I waited a moment before opening the car door, but when no dogs came running, I figured they were penned up somewhere.
    Bess and I climbed out and looked around. “This place is great!” she said. “It’s like out of a time warp!”
    The farm was picture-perfect with its two barns, a silo, and a corncrib filled to the brim from the harvest. It hugged the side of a mountain. Steep, newly harvested meadows flanked a wooded area, dark with pines, while the farmhouse and outbuildings sat close to the road.
    Clouds were building over the top of the mountain, and a cold wind whistled through the trees. I wrapped my blue scarf more tightly around my neck and said, “I think that’s part of Brody’s Mountain.”
    “Which explains those ski chalets,” Bess said. She pointed past the barn, where the driveway continued and branched off, one branch leading up a slope to the meadows, the other leading to a circle of tourist cabins bordering the forest.
    I grabbed my purse from the car and followed Bess to the stand. Pumpkins, squash, gourds, and other late-fall produce were attractively stacked in weathered baskets. Several shelves held different-size containers of maple syrup. The stand itself was unmanned.
    I hesitated, and wondered if I should scout out the barnyard to see if anyone was around. At first glance the place seemed deserted, except for the sounds of chickens pecking in their coop and a cow lowing in the barn. From where I stood I couldn’t see if a car was parked behind the house.
    Peeking through the rustic fence that surrounded the property, I saw a stone path that led across the lawn to the house. Deciding I should go and ring the doorbell, I opened the gate, then noticed the sign: NICHOLS KENNELS AND CHATEAU RENTALS.
    A NO VACANCY sign dangled beneath. Apparently the UFO sightings had brought business even to this out-of-the-way farm.
    “I just figured out why there are so many dogs,” I called back to Bess. “These people are breeders as well as farmers.”
    “And the name Nichols rings a bell,” Bess said, holding up one of the containers of maple syrup and showing me the label with the farm’s name. “Where have I heard the name before?”
    I’d heard it too. Something about the chateaurentals jogged my memory. As I was trying to recall exactly where I’d heard the name, an elderly man came charging