Trail to Nowhere

Nancy’s eyes widened on hearing this startling information. “Did Brett Hulme give any reason for his interest? ”

“No... but as I recall he brought along a sketchpad and made drawings of several specimens.” Taggart reflected a moment and added, “I think he came hoping to see some particular kind of spider, and he seemed disappointed that he couldn’t find exactly what he was looking for.”

“How long ago did this happen? ”

“Oh, I’d say three or four years ago.”

Nancy drove home thoughtfully. The spider expert had just provided a second link connecting Brett Hulme to the mystery, and her sleuthing instinct told her it might well prove important. But the time frame puzzled her. Nancy could not forget the beautiful silvery cobweb she had glimpsed only recently on Brett’s workbench.

The rest of Nancy’s afternoon was taken up with running errands for Hannah and answering a pile of letters, a job she had not had time to attend to for a while.

For a change, she spent a quiet evening at home, reading and watching television. By giving her mind a rest from the mystery, Nancy hoped, she could return to the case refreshed.

The next morning, Nancy picked up George Fayne and Bess Marvin, and the three girls drove to the Footlighters’ barn theater.

“I wonder what job they’ll give me to do? ” George wondered aloud. She and Nancy had volunteered to help the group prepare for its performance at the Oceanview Festival.

“Search me, ” Bess replied. “But I do know they want Nancy to watch the play and learn Connie Phelps’ lines.”

George shuddered. “Count me out of anything onstage! I have this absolute faith I’d make an idiot of myself in front of an audience! ”

As the girls pulled into the Footlighters’ parking lot, voices could be heard from the barn theater as members busied themselves checking out and refurbishing props and costumes for the mystery melodrama, A Scream in the Dark, which was to be staged at the festival.

Later, Hamilton and Margo Spencer rehearsed the cast on some scenes that needed polishing. Nancy sat and listened and watched.

“It’s awfully difficult to learn a play this way, Nancy, ” Mrs. Spencer said, slipping into the seat next to the young sleuth.

“Yes, but I’m getting a good idea of what to do and what not to do.” Nancy laughed.

“Suppose I give you a script to take home and study.”

“That would be great.”

“It always helps to know we have a good understudy ready to step into a part, ” Margo went on. “Judging by your past performances, we’ll have no worry about this one.”

“She’s right, Nancy.” Hamilton Spencer had joined them. “I wish you’d consider acting in our productions regularly. You have too much talent not to put it to use.”

Nancy blushed. “Unfortunately, solving mysteries doesn’t leave me much spare time.”

“Do think about it, though, dear, ” Mrs. Spencer said, patting her arm.

During a break in the rehearsal, Nancy filled in Bess and George on the progress of her investigation. “I can’t help wondering, ” she mused, “if this spider thing may have had something to do with breaking up the romance between Brett Hulme and Kim.”

“I doubt it, ” George said firmly. “If you ask me, it was more a problem of career versus marriage.”

“What makes you so sure? ”

“Listen, if that’s what George thinks, it must be so! ” Bess put in with a laugh. “She’s been following Kim Vernon’s career ever since she broke into golf. I think she’s Kim’s biggest fan! ”

“Come to think of it, ” said George, “I remember an interview in a sports magazine where she talked about that very subject. I may still have it.”

“I’d like to read it, if you do, ” Nancy said. “Okay, I’ll look it up at lunchtime. Why don’t you two come home and eat with me? ”

“What’s on the menu? ” Bess inquired, then turned to Nancy with a giggle. “You know how George is---she’s always trying to get me to eat carrot sticks and lettuce! ”

“Don’t worry, cousin dear. We’ll have cold chicken and ham and cheese and German potato salad and homemade bread.”

“Oh, yummy! ” Bess squealed.

The girls ate their lunch on the sunny patio in back of George’s house. Afterward, George went inside to try to find the sports magazine she had referred to. Minutes later she emerged, waving it in her hand.

“Ta-da! Here, see for yourself what Kim says, Nancy.”

The teenage detective scanned the article with interest. It confirmed what George had said at the barn theater. Reading the interview, Nancy felt that Kim Vernon sounded bitter. She had said that a professional golfing career would never mix with marriage, because the average husband would never put up with a wife who had to spend so much time on tour, away from home.

“Well, what’d I tell you? ” George inquired as Nancy looked up from the magazine.

“Very interesting.”

Later that afternoon, when the Footlighters broke off for the day. Nancy decided to pay another visit to Brett Hulme’s workshop before going home. As she entered, the young designer looked up with a friendly, if guarded, smile.

This time, Nancy caught no shimmer of silver on his desk: it was a heavy gold-link bracelet that he was working on.

“More sleuthing? ”

“A little.” Nancy smile apologetically. “but that’s not the only reason I came.”

Switching off his worklight, Brett led her to an alcove with some comfortable chairs where they could sit and talk.

“Kim was very upset when she read about the close call you had with that rock thrown through your window, ” Nancy began.

From the way Brett Hulme’s eyes had kindled with interest as she spoke, Nancy felt more certain than ever that he still cared for Kim Vernon. But he remained wakwardly silent. However, as she introduced the subject of the magazine interview, Brett gradually relaxed and began to talk.

“Yes, Kim and I were engaged. And it’s all my fault that we broke up, ” he confessed unhappily. “I made the mistake of pressuring her. You know, insisting that she give up golf or cut down on tournaments, that sort of thing. I was selfish. I didn’t realize how hard Kim had worked to get where she was. Of course I know better now.”

Hoping that she had gained Brett’s confidence, Nancy at last mentioned her chat with Paul Taggart. “He said that you once came to look over his red spider specimens. Would you mind telling me why? ”

At her unexpected question, Brett Hulme seemed to freeze up. A trapped, suspicious look flickered across his face.

At that moment, the telephone rang, saving Brett from replying. Nancy thought that he looked relieved at the interruption. He sprang toward the phone, and lifted the receiver.

Evidently Brett found the call rather unpleasant as well, judging by his disturbed expression. His guarded remarks were made in a low voice. Nancy was only able to her him address his caller as Mr. Shand and later say, “All right.” Then he hung up.

Turning to Nancy, he said curtly, “I’m sorry if I seem rude, but something important has come up, and I have to go see someone right away.”

“Of course. I understand, ” Nancy said politely. She rose from her chair and, saying good-bye, went out to her car. But the call had aroused her curiosity, and she decided to see where Brett Hulme had to go in such a hurry.

Turning out of his drive, Nancy went only a little way down the road, then pulled over among some trees at a point where she could watch his house. Screened by the roadside shrubbery, she waited for Hulme to emerge.

Presently a white car exited from his drive. But instead of turning in Nancy’s direction, back toward River Heights, it headed the other way.

Where is he going? Nancy wondered.

Keying her engine back to life, she started to follow him cautiously. The road dead-ended only a mile or so away on a pleasant promontory over-looking the river.

Nancy turned off quickly onto a little-used dirt path that was heavily overgrown with vines and brush. Then she stopped her car again, got out and made her way on foot to a spot where she could see what was going on without being seen herself.

Brett had parked his car and was pacing back and forth on the promomtory, hands thrust deep into his pockets, and a brooding expression on his face. Was he thinking of Kim?

Nancy watched patiently from behind her screen of trees and shrubbery, thinking he might be waiting to meet someone. But after ten minutes or so, Brett merely stepped into his car, maneuvered it in reverse and headed back the way he had come.

Nancy hastily returned to her own car and resumed trailing him, although he was now out of sight. As his workshop came into view, she was just in time to see his white car pulling around to the back of his house.

So his story about meeting someone had been just an excuse to avoid answering her question about his interest in red spiders!

Still puzzled, but encouraged that she was at least on the right track, nancy drove home.

But a frightening sight awaited the teenage sleuth as she unlocked the door of the Drews’ house and entered the front hall.

Hannah Gruen was lying motionless on the floor!