Strangers on a Train (Nancy Drew Diaries #2)(10)

"Oh?” Was it my imagination, or had she briefly grimaced when she’d said the part about saving her pennies?

"Yeah. Figured I’d skip it and see if I could find something a little more interesting to share with my readers.”

"So have you found anything yet?” I asked.

She grinned, waggling a finger in my face. “Nuh-uh, not telling!” she singsonged. "You’ll just have to check out my blog to find out.”

"Guess I’ll have to do that,” I said politely.

“Really?” she said eagerly. "Cool! Tell all your friends to go there too, okay? Because so far, this trip isn’t exactly driving zillions of hits to the blog. I knew I should’ve done the Elvis pilgrimage to Graceland this time instead.”

Interesting. So her blog, Wendy’s Wanderings, wasn’t exactly setting the Internet on fire these days. Was that suspicious? I wasn’t sure, though I supposed it did make Wendy’s theoretical motive even stronger.

Before I could come up with any more questions, Wendy’s eyes lit up. "Whoa, check that out!” she exclaimed, racing toward a nearby table full of earrings. I didn’t understand why she was so excited until I read the sign, which explained that the earrings were made of moose droppings. Wendy pulled a camera out of her pocket and snapped a few photos. "That’s so going on the blog,” she murmured gleefully.

As she started digging through the earrings, I decided to take the opportunity to exit stage right. “See you later,” I said, hurrying off before she could answer.

Once I was back out on the street, I texted Becca to see if she was available to meet with me. She texted back almost immediately, saying she was free for a few minutes if I could meet her back on the ship.

Soon I was hurrying into a snack bar on one of the Arctic Star’s middle decks. Becca was sitting at a table with her laptop open in front of her. She glanced up when I came in and waved me over. A handsome young man was bustling around behind the counter, but otherwise the place was a ghost town. Actually, the whole ship was all but deserted. Other than the employees who’d swiped my ID and checked me in, the only person I’d seen since boarding was a maid vacuuming one of the hallways.

"Hi,” I said, sitting down across from Becca. “You know, this ship is kind of creepy when it’s empty.” My words echoed in the almost deserted snack bar.

“I know what you mean. The ship feels different without passengers. Kind of peaceful, and yes, maybe a little creepy.” Becca snapped her laptop shut.

Meanwhile, the young bartender had just come around from behind the counter. He was carrying a pair of tall, frosty glasses of iced tea.

"There you go, ladies,” he said, setting the drinks down in front of us. "Anything else?”

"Thanks, Omar.” Becca smiled at him. "And yes, actually, could you do me a favor? Marcelo’s up in his office, and I know he’d love a cup of coffee. Would you mind bringing him one?”

"Sure thing.”

As the young man hurried out, coffee cup in hand, Becca winked at me. “Okay, now we can talk freely. At least until he gets back.”

I grinned. "Nicely done. I didn’t realize you had such a talent for misdirection and deception. Have you ever considered leaving the cruise industry and going into undercover work?”

Becca chuckled, but soon her face went serious again. "So what did you want to talk about, Nancy? Are we any closer to figuring out who helped that robber get onboard?”

“I don’t know.” I took a sip of my iced tea. "But I have a question for you. What do you know about the busboy who got fired this morning?”

"John Sanchez?” Becca nodded. "How did you know about that?”

I explained about the scene I’d witnessed on the dock. “So now I’m wondering if there’s a connection,” I finished.



Becca shook her head. "That wasn’t very professional,” she said with a sigh. "Chuck must have been too upset to wait until they were back onboard. I know he thinks of his entire staff as family.”



“Chuck?” I echoed.

"Sanchez’s boss,” Becca explained. “He got an anonymous tip this morning advising him to check the guy’s locker. When he did, he found the drugs hidden under a spare apron.”

"An anonymous tip?”

"Yeah, apparently someone e-mailed him from one of the public computers in the ship’s Internet cafe,” Becca said. “The message wasn’t signed. Why? Do you think any of this is connected with the case?”

"I’m not sure yet.” I tucked the info away to think about later. I knew we might not have much time before the bartender came back, and I wanted to ask her all my questions. "I also wanted to talk to you about Scott again. You know—the shore excursions guy. You said he’s got a good rep in the industry, but how well do you really know him?”

Becca shrugged. “Not that well. I never met him before he got hired here. All I know is he used to work for Happy Seas Cruises, and his old boss put in a good word for him with Captain Peterson. Why? Has Scott done something suspicious? You asked about him before, right?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Sort of.” The more time passed after the incident on the train, the more I doubted my own reaction. Was I grasping at straws by treating Scott as a viable suspect?