Nancy called Ms. Bowers back with the news, then told Mrs. Sunderland, “We’re on our way now. Wish us luck.”
“I do, I do,” Cindy’s mother replied. “Just get my little girl back!”
• • •
It was after eleven when Nancy parked her blue Mustang on a side street near Ann Bowers’s building. She and Bess grabbed their overnight bags from the backseat and walked inside. The doorman recognized them and smiled. “Oh, yes. Ms. Bowers called down to say that you’ll be staying a few days,” he said.
Upstairs, Nancy rang the bell. To her surprise, Cody Charles answered the door. His expression was somber.
“Thanks for agreeing to help,” he said.
“Ms. Bowers told you about the phone call?” Bess asked.
“Yep,” he said. “But it was no surprise. I’d already got a call myself. I almost managed to tape it, but it took me too long to remember which button to punch on my answering machine.”
Bess and Nancy followed him into the living room, where Ms. Bowers jumped up to greet them. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you girls,” she said. “I have no idea what to do. Thank goodness Gayle was here when I got that terrible call. Otherwise, I’m sure I would have collapsed on the spot.”
“What do the police say?” Nancy asked.
“Well . . . ” Ms. Bowers said, her voice trailing off.
Cody jumped in. “I feel strongly that we shouldn’t bring in the authorities yet,” he said. “The person who called me said that if I told the police, it would be bad for Cindy.”
“Kidnappers usually say that,” Nancy pointed out. “But the authorities will know how to deal with them. They’ve had a lot more experience than you or me.”
“Oh, I know,” Cody replied, seeming troubled. “But I just don’t think we should make a move too soon.”
“Cody pointed out something else,” Ms. Bowers added. “Once the police are involved, there’ll be no way to hush up this incident. And I’m afraid it could have a serious effect on Cindy’s career.”
“Being kidnapped is bad publicity?” Bess asked in a skeptical tone.
“I’m not sure it fits in with the wholesome image the Healthibits girl should have,” Ms. Bowers replied solemnly. “Though of course it’s not her fault, this kind of thing could hurt her image in the business as a reliable girl. I discussed this with Cindy’s mother, and she agrees with me.”
“I don’t like it,” Nancy said slowly. “But I’ll go along, for the time being.”
“Thanks,” Cody said, with an audible sigh of relief. “Listen, I have to go, but you have my number, right? Please, call me the instant you learn anything.”
After he left, Ms. Bowers sighed. “At least there’s one good thing about getting that terrible phone call,” she said. “It gives me some ammunition in case McVie and Martin tries to invoke the escape clause and fire Cindy. They wouldn’t dare penalize a kidnapping victim that way.”
Nancy caught Bess’s eye. She could see they both had the same thought. Whether she realized it or not, Ms. Bowers had just admitted that she had a strong motive to invent the kidnappers’ call—it was a perfect way to protect her client’s career. Had Gayle really been there when Ms. Bowers got the call? Nancy made a mental note to question the young model later.
“What did the kidnappers say about ransom?” Nancy asked Ms. Bowers.
Ann Bowers looked surprised, as if the question hadn’t occurred to her. “Why, nothing at all,” she replied.
Nancy gave Bess another glance. No ransom demand? Then why had Cindy been kidnapped?
“Perhaps they’re waiting for our anxiety level to rise before they discuss money,” Ms. Bowers mused. “And they must know I’m not her parent—maybe they wanted to give me a chance to contact her mother.”
“When it comes down to that,” Nancy put in, “why didn’t they contact Mrs. Sunderland? Surely they could force Cindy to give them her home number.” Nancy winced inwardly. It was scary to think of Cindy being pressed for information at the hands of her kidnappers.
Ms. Bowers fidgeted. “It is mysterious, isn’t it?” she said—then gave a shrug. “Well, that’s why you’re here. Let me show you your room. Oh, remind me to give you a set of apartment keys. And you’ll need a magnetic card that lets you into the garage, so you can park your car down there.”
As she led them down the hallway, Nancy wondered why Ms. Bowers seemed so eager to change the subject. A lot of things about this supposed kidnapping just didn’t add up.
After she and Bess had dropped their bags in the guest room, Nancy said, “Ms. Bowers, I’d like another look at Cindy’s room. Can you come with us? You might notice something that we’d otherwise miss.”
“Of course, dear,” Ms. Bowers replied.
Cindy’s room looked just as it had the day before. “Bess, this time you take the bathroom and I’ll search this room,” Nancy suggested.
“Okay,” Bess replied.
Nancy went to work on the dresser, opening each drawer in turn and sifting carefully through the neatly piled clothing. When she was finished, all she had learned was that Cindy had a lot of nice clothes. She was about to start looking through the wastebasket when Ms. Bowers said from the doorway, “I wonder where Wilbur is?”
“Who’s Wilbur?” Nancy asked, puzzled.
“Cindy’s favorite stuffed animal,” Ms. Bowers replied. “A very cute pink pig. He’s Cindy’s good-luck charm. I don’t see him anywhere.”
Nancy scanned the shelf of animals, then kneeled down to peer under the bed. No pink pig.
“Was Cindy in the habit of taking Wilbur with her wherever she went?” Nancy asked, intrigued.
“As a mascot, you mean?” said Ms. Bowers. “Not as a rule, no. But yesterday was a special day. She would have taken him with her for luck.”
Nancy nodded. “If he’s not here, maybe that proves she was headed for the studio when she left the apartment,” she mused.
“Nancy, I’ve found something,” Bess called from the bathroom. She came out, holding a narrow piece of flimsy paper.
