Strangers on a Train (Nancy Drew Diaries #2)(29)

Final Surprise



“AMAZING, NANCY,” GEORGE SAID. “I CAN’T believe you figured things out just from some security guy’s name tag.”

We were sitting in the lobby of the lodge with Bess, Alan, and Wendy. The police were still there. They were dragging Scott to-ward the door, though he wasn’t going easily. He was sputtering with anger and calling the cops every name in the book. It was getting close to time for the buses to leave for the park, and a lot of our fellow Arctic Star passengers were in the lobby, watching the show.

“Well, I can’t believe Scott was our culprit all along,” Bess said. "I figured he was off the hook, since we knew he couldn’t have planted that note in Nancy’s bag.”

"I still don’t understand exactly what happened,” Alan complained. “Anyone care to fill me in?”

"Scott was the hooded person I followed into the woods last night,” I told him. “He was going to meet his contact at that shed.

He needed to confirm that the contact had brought the box of illegal stuff—and probably also needed to pay him for it, of course. Then Scott could smuggle the box onto the Arctic Star and pass it off to someone else when he got back to Vancouver.”

“So was Scott the one who shot at you?” George asked.

“I don’t think so,” I replied. "That was the contact. It seems Scott had already left the shed area by the time I got there. See, he was planning to leave the box in the shed until we were all off touring Denali today. Then he’d have plenty of time to go get it and hide it somewhere.” I shrugged. "He was already back at the lodge—and had removed that hoodie—by the time he heard the shots. He was doubling back to see what was going on when I stumbled into him.”

“Then what happened to the box?” Alan wondered.

"Like I said, Scott’s contact took those shots at me. I guess he heard me crashing around in the woods and hid to see what was going on.” I grimaced. “Once he scared me off, he must’ve moved the box to a different hiding place, which is why the security guard didn’t see it. But the police found it when they searched Scott’s room just now.”



“Wow.” Bess shook her head. "Wait—but you still haven’t told us how you figured out it was Scott.”



"That’s where Fred Smith came in.” I traded a smile with Wendy. "See, the security guard who came to update me this morning was named John. That reminded me that I’ve been hearing that name a lot lately.”

"So?” Alan looked confused. "John’s a pretty common name.”

I smiled. "Right. That’s why it took so long for me to put two and two together. John Sanchez is the name of the busboy who got fired—and framed, according to Fred Smith.” I shrugged. "John is also the name of one of the people I overheard arguing in the kitchen our first night on the ship.”

"I almost forgot about that,” George said. “I always figured that was just a red herring, since it seemed so random.”

"Yeah, I wasn’t too sure myself,” I said. “But I realized that the John from that argument could’ve been John the busboy. And that maybe someone was threatening him because he’d stumbled on to something incriminating.”

Bess’s eyes widened. "I get it!” she exclaimed. "Everyone says John the busboy is super honest, right? He found out about what Scott was doing, so Scott framed him to get him fired.”

“Not at first,” I said. "I guess Scott thought his threats were enough to keep John quiet for a while. But when Vince and Lacey got arrested and security was tightened—and especially after the jewelry store got robbed—he decided it was safer to just get him out of the picture.”

“So Scott was involved in the jewelry store thing, too?” Wendy asked.

"Uh-huh. The police already got him to fess us to that. He loaned his ship ID to one of his sleazy friends—probably one of the guys I saw him meeting with in Ketchikan. The guy was only supposed to pick up something from Scott’s cabin, but on his way out I guess he decided the jewelry store looked like easy pickings.”

"Wow,” George said. “But wait. I still don’t get how you knew Scott was behind all this.”

“I didn’t,” I admitted. “Like I was saying, that’s where Fred Smith came in. He was trying to help John the busboy, so I figured he was our best bet to get John to tell us who threatened him in the kitchen that day.”

“Scott?” Alan guessed.

I nodded. “Scott was the one who framed him. He also threatened his friends and family, so John was too scared to go to the police even after he got fired. But Fred talked him into telling him the truth.”

"Cool.” Wendy looked impressed. “So the case is closed.” She leaned over and poked me. "Don’t forget, you promised I could break the news on my blog. Exclusive interview, right?”

I hesitated. I wasn’t thrilled about having this story splashed all over Wendy’s travel blog, especially after seeing all the information about me out there on the Internet already. Still, Wendy had provided a key clue in solving the case. Maybe I owed her that scoop.

"Urn, sure,” I said uncertainly. “But can we do it later? It looks like the bus is here.” I pointed to the large bus pulling to a stop outside.