“We need to talk to Cindy’s mom,” Nancy replied. “I called her last night and set up a time to meet her. She’s pretty upset and worried, but she agreed to talk to us. As she told Ms. Bowers yesterday, she hasn’t heard from Cindy. But maybe she can tell us more about Cindy’s state of mind—whether she’d be likely to run away from this job, for instance.”
“Do you really think that’s possible?” Bess asked. “There sure are lots of people who have a motive to keep Cindy from doing the commercials. Cody wanted her to drop the campaign, even if he says he wouldn’t have stood in her way. Ann Bowers may have thought Cindy was going to leave her for another agent. And what about someone who’s using Cindy to hurt Carlo—that guy Miklos, for example? Or someone from Amalgamated Cereals, trying to sink the whole project?”
“Amalgamated Mills,” Nancy corrected her friend. “And that’s not such a far-out idea. What if Miklos was being paid by Amalgamated? He could easily have sabotaged the set. He could even have lured Cindy someplace by calling with a change of plans—she wouldn’t doubt one of Carlo’s assistants. And he might have been our eavesdropper yesterday. Working in the building, he would probably know about that tunnel.”
“Nancy, that’s brilliant. It all fits!” Bess exclaimed, waving her second doughnut excitedly.
Nancy smiled and brushed specks of powdered sugar off her sleeve. “Yes, but at this point we could come up with three or four other scenarios that fit just as well,” she said. “We need more facts before we can really narrow down the possibilities.”
After finishing breakfast, the girls got into Nancy’s blue Mustang and headed for the Sunderland house. Mrs. Sunderland lived in a small split-level house in one of the older subdivisions of River Heights. Nancy parked in the driveway, and she and Bess followed the neat stone walk up to the front steps.
Mrs. Sunderland opened the door even before they had a chance to ring the doorbell. She was in her early forties, with shoulder-length brown hair and arresting blue eyes. Cindy had clearly inherited her good looks from her mother. But Mrs. Sunderland’s face looked creased with worry, and her eyes were rimmed with red as if she had been crying.
“Please come in,” she said. “I’m so glad you came. You two girls are my best hope for finding Cindy.”
“You haven’t heard anything further?” Nancy asked as they followed her into the living room.
“Nothing,” Cindy’s mother replied, wringing her hands and sinking down into an armchair. “I’m worried sick. I wanted to go up to Chicago myself, but Ann Bowers said I should stay here, in case Cindy came or called me here.”
Nancy and Bess exchanged a glance. Did Ann Bowers have some other reason for keeping Cindy’s mother out of the way?
“It’s so distressing,” Mrs. Sunderland went on. “Just when Cindy’s career was going so well . . . ”
“How did she feel about her big break?” Bess asked. “Her friend Gayle said she seemed awfully nervous.”
“Nervous? Of course, who wouldn’t be?” Mrs. Sunderland replied. “But she was also thrilled. She couldn’t wait to get started. When she came down with a head cold a couple of weeks ago, she acted as though it was the end of the world. You see, she was afraid it might cause problems with the campaign.” A brave smile lit up Mrs. Sunderland’s face. “If you can’t taste anything, it’s a lot harder to look excited about eating cereal, I guess.”
“May we look at Cindy’s room?” Nancy asked.
Mrs. Sunderland stood up. “Sure, if you think it’ll help,” she said. “It’s this way.”
The room, at the end of a short hall, looked like something from a catalog. The bedspread, curtains, and wallpaper were all in the same pattern of yellow roses. Stuffed animals were lined up on a long shelf under the windows. On the dresser stood an array of tiny sampler bottles of designer perfumes.
In the distance, the telephone rang, and Mrs. Sunderland jumped. “Uh, make yourselves at home,” she said anxiously. “I’ll be right back.”
Bess began looking through the dresser drawers. Nancy peered into the closet, which was mostly empty, then wandered into the adjoining bathroom. Like Cindy’s bathroom in Chicago, it held an astonishing collection of shampoos and body lotions, as well as herbal cold remedies, vitamins, and allergy medicines.
“Nancy!” Mrs. Sunderland suddenly called from the bedroom doorway. Her face was pale, and she gripped the edge of the door tensely. “Would you get on the phone, please? It’s . . . it’s Ann Bowers. I’m afraid she’s had bad news.”
Nancy hurried out into the hall and picked up the receiver. “This is Nancy. What is it?”
“Nancy, can you and Bess come back to Chicago right away?” Ms. Bowers said, in a voice that trembled. “I need your help. Someone just called me. He said that he’s one of the people who’ve kidnapped Cindy.”
Holding the phone tightly, Nancy asked, “Did you actually speak to Cindy?”
“No,” Ms. Bowers replied. “But just before he hung up, I—I heard someone scream. I’m sure it was Cindy!”
8
Kidnapped!
Nancy was silent for a moment, as she tried to take in Ms. Bowers’s news about Cindy.
Ms. Bowers filled the silence. “There’s a guest room in the apartment that you and Bess can stay in,” she offered. “Please, tell me you’ll come as soon as possible.”
“I’ll talk it over with Bess and let you know,” Nancy said. “Here’s Cindy’s mom again.”
Nancy handed the receiver to Mrs. Sunderland, then took Bess aside and filled her in. Meanwhile, Mrs. Sunderland kept nodding numbly as she talked to Ann Bowers. Finally she said goodbye and dropped the receiver back onto the cradle. She looked stunned. Bess helped her to a seat.
“I don’t understand,” Mrs. Sunderland moaned. “Why would someone kidnap my baby? She never did anything to hurt anybody. And why did they call Ann Bowers? Why not me?”
Nancy had been wondering that, too. “Which address is on Cindy’s ID?” she asked. “This one, or the one in Chicago?”
“I have no idea,” Cindy’s mom admitted. “Chicago, I suppose. You think maybe the kidnappers didn’t know where to reach me?”
“It’s possible,” Nancy told her. “There are a lot of questions about this. But I promise we’re going to do our best to find the answers—and to find Cindy.”
Mrs. Sunderland leaned forward to grasp Nancy’s hand. “Is there anything I could do to help?”
Nancy gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “I think Ms. Bowers is right. You should stay here, in case someone tries to contact you,” she said. “If there’s any reason for you to come to Chicago, we’ll call you at once.”
“And what about notifying the police? The FBI?” Cindy’s mom continued, sounding more and more distraught.
“I think that’s something you ought to talk over with Ms. Bowers,” Nancy said gently. “She knows the situation better than we do at this point.”
Nancy used Mrs. Sunderland’s phone to call her dad, then Bess called her mother. Both quickly gave permission for the two teens to return immediately to Chicago.
“But keep in touch with me—and be careful,” Carson Drew warned, before saying goodbye. “Kidnappers are dangerous criminals.”
