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Chapter 2 The Mystery at Lilac Inn by Carolyn Keene

Strange Happenings
A jinx on Lilac Inn! Nancy and Helen stared at Emily in astonishment.

“Tell us about it,” Nancy urged her friend.

Emily sighed. “I will. I didn’t want to worry Aunt Hazel, so I’ve kept my suspicions to myself.”

The chestnut-haired girl said that four days ago her fiancé had left for New York. Prior to that time, everything had been running smoothly at the inn. An hour after Dick’s departure, one of the waitresses had come to Emily’s office to give notice.

“When I asked her why she was dissatisfied, she said it was because the inn was—was haunted!”

“What did she mean?” Nancy asked.

Emily said she had not taken the statement seriously. “At the time I was sure the waitress, Mary Mason, was just making up an excuse for leaving. She packed and left on the bus to River Heights that day. Now I’m not so sure she hadn’t seen something strange.

“Sunday morning Gil Gary reported that our finest lilac tree near the front entrance had been stolen. No ghost did that!”

“What a shame!” Helen exclaimed.

“Mr. Daly was heartbroken,” Emily said unhappily. “Several years ago he rooted this lilac—the Lucie Baltet variety with a lovely pinkish flower. It was just beginning to blossom abundantly.

“The third strange occurrence,” Emily continued, “was around twelve o’clock last night. I was awakened by the sound of music and traced it to our record player in the recreation room. No one was there.”

“Perhaps someone at the inn was playing a joke,” Nancy suggested.

“No. Everyone denied this,” Emily answered. “A window in the recreation room was partially open. It looked as though it had been forced. And I know all the windows had been closed earlier.”

There was a thoughtful silence for several seconds, then Emily linked arms with her chums. “I won’t worry you with any more mysteries,” she said. “Let’s have lunch and later concentrate on wedding plans.”

Near the dining-room door Emily stopped to introduce her friends to a kind-faced, white-haired man. “This is Mr. Daly, the former owner, whom I told you about. I just couldn’t get along without him. I’m so glad he decided to stay awhile, even though he wants to retire.”

“How do you do?” Nancy and Helen smiled and shook hands, then went to a corner table near an old hutch cabinet.

Nancy’s mind was still on the series of events Emily had just related. It did sound as if something peculiar was going on at Lilac Inn!

Nancy had learned from her lawyer father, Carson Drew, that a seemingly unrelated chain of events often became a single baffling mystery. The young sleuth had found proof of this in solving several cases herself—her first being The Secret of the Old Clock, and more recently, The Bungalow Mystery.

Mrs. Willoughby and John McBride joined the girls. Emily asked them where Maud was.

“I believe she’s sun-bathing on the dock,” Mrs. Willoughby replied. “She ate an early lunch.”

There was a tense note in the woman’s voice which Nancy quickly detected. The girl detective recalled the conversation she and Helen had overheard that morning. Had further trouble developed?

When Anna, the waitress, brought the first course of beef broth, Emily changed the subject abruptly. “Lilac Inn is really a fascinating place,” she said. “The original floors are still intact, and it’s rumored that George Washington ate here in the stagecoach days.”

John smiled. “According to reports, our first president must have eaten at every dining place in this country!”

During the luncheon of creamed chicken on toast, peas, salad, and iced tea, Helen asked whether Emily had a neighbor who wore his hair in a crew cut. She explained about the man who had rowed off, instead of coming to the girls’ rescue, when their canoe capsized. Emily and her aunt shook their heads.

“Not a very gallant guy,” John remarked. He asked several questions about the man with the crew cut and seemed very much disappointed when Helen could add nothing more to the description.

Later, Nancy said to John, “Your career in the Army must be interesting. Do you have a special assignment?”

“Wish I could tell you, Nancy. But it’s classified, or confidential, to civilians.”

“I understand.” Nancy smiled. Presently she turned to Emily. “I saw Doris Drake on the way here. Her house isn’t far away, is it?”

“About a mile up the road,” Emily answered.

After luncheon Emily offered to show Nancy and Helen around the inn and take them on a tour of the extensive grounds.

“I’ll get the jeep for that trip,” John offered.

Emily showed her friends the parlors and writing room, and the modern wing containing the pine-paneled recreation room.

“Very attractive,” Nancy remarked. She spotted a record player in one corner. “Is that the one the intruder used, Emily?”

“Yes. And here’s the window which I found forced open last night,” Emily pointed out.

Next, Nancy and Helen were escorted upstairs to see Emily’s attractive, old-fashioned two-room suite. “When the inn is ready, there’ll be accommodations for fifty guests—”

At this instant a piercing shriek came from the garden. The three girls dashed down the stairs and rushed outside.

“The cry came from near the river,” said Nancy, running in that direction.

John McBride and two gardeners joined them. They made a thorough search, but found no one.

Emily turned to Nancy with questioning eyes. “Are you thinking what I am—that the person screamed just to frighten us? And make this place almost seem haunted?”

“Yes. But why? Is someone trying to balk your expansion program here?” Nancy suggested.

“Possibly. But I can’t figure out the reason,” Emily replied. “Well, I’ll show you the rest of the house.”

She took the visitors to the far wing, where the kitchen was located. Its gleaming wall ovens and natural-stone colonial fireplace, complete with spit, fascinated Nancy.

“Emily, you’ll have no trouble filling every room in this inn,” she said enthusiastically. “It’s absolutely charming!”

“I hope you’re right,” Emily replied fervently. “If only the mystery haunting this place could be solved! You’ll help, Nancy?”

“I’ll certainly try, Emily.”

The three girls went to the parking lot where John awaited them at the wheel of the jeep. “Hold onto your hats!” he called.

His three hatless passengers grinned as they hopped into the rear seat. The vehicle shot forward and turned into a dirt lane.

Soon they were driving among groves of apple and peach trees. At Emily’s request, John stopped the jeep near an apple tree. She got out to examine the leafy branches. “We’ll have an abundant crop this season,” she commented. “There are lots of tiny apples forming.”

John had climbed out also. Suddenly he stooped and examined the ground.

“What are you looking at?” Nancy called to him.

“A big fat beetle.” John laughed.

Nancy chuckled, but she had the feeling that John had been evasive in his reply. As the jeep started off, she looked back. There was a trail of marks leading toward the river.

“They look like flipper tracks,” she thought. “I wonder if John made them or if he suspects someone else did.”

Later, when the young people returned to the inn, they found Maud Potter on the patio. Nancy was amazed at the change in the woman’s manner. Now she was smiling broadly as she waved a folded newspaper.

“Nancy!” she cried effusively. “You’re a skin-diving celebrity!”

“What do you mean?” Nancy asked, puzzled, as Mrs. Willoughby joined the group.

Maud opened the paper and pointed to page one of the River Heights Evening News.

“Why, Nancy Drew!” Helen exclaimed. “Your picture—and a write-up! You never breathed a word!”

Everyone clustered around to see the picture of Nancy in a bathing suit, diver’s mask, and flippers and the accompanying article. The caption read:

Daughter of Local Lawyer, Carson Drew, Learns Her A-B Seas in Skin Diving.

The article went on to tell that Nancy had just completed a course in advanced skin diving in the Muskoka River, and that she had finished first in total points in the twenty-student group.

“ ‘When asked by our reporter where she hoped to practice the sport,’ ” John read aloud, “ ‘Miss Drew replied she would like to skin-dive in both salt and fresh water. This writer strongly suspects that there will be times when she will use her newly acquired knowledge in solving mysteries at which Miss Drew, we understand, is proficient.’ ”

With an admiring glance, John said, “Meet a fellow frogman. I practically grew up in flippers.”

“Really? Oh, I have a wonderful idea!”

Nancy said she would still like to find out, if possible, what had upset her canoe so suddenly. “Maybe there is some submerged object I didn’t notice. It could be a hazard to other people in boats. John, why don’t you take a look underwater at that same spot?”

“How about both of us going?” John suggested, smiling.

Emily spoke up. “Nancy, you and Helen must stay here longer. You can work on the mystery and also go skin diving with John.”

Both girls accepted eagerly. “We’ll paddle home tomorrow,” said Nancy, “pick up more clothes and my diving equipment, then come back.”

For the rest of the afternoon, the three girls discussed the subject of gowns to be worn by Emily’s bridal attendants. Nancy and Helen were delighted to learn that the color was to be lilac pink.

“By the way, Em,” Helen said, “do you know where lilacs came from originally?”

Their hostess nodded. “A German traveler brought the flower from the Orient to Europe in the sixteenth century. Eventually the lilac was introduced to America.”

All this time Nancy had noted that Emily was doing her best to seem cheerful, and Maud too continued to act carefree. Emily had arranged a steak cook-out on the patio, and the social director joined in the lively banter. When they finished eating, she brought out a guitar.

“How about some Western tunes?” she suggested gaily.

“Fine. Let’s all sing,” Helen answered.

At eleven o’clock the group said good night and the River Heights girls tumbled into bed.

The next morning Nancy had just finished dressing when there was a knock on the cottage door. John called out:

“Phone call for you, Nancy, at the desk in the lobby. The cottage phones aren’t connected yet.”

“Thank you.” Nancy hurried to the lobby and picked up the receiver. “Hello? . . . Why, Hannah! What’s the trouble?”

Hannah Gruen was the Drews’ housekeeper, and had “mothered” Nancy since the age of three when her own mother had passed away.

“Oh, Nancy!” Hannah sounded almost hysterical. “Come home right away! Your father isn’t here, and someone broke into the house last night!”

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