But as she reached the big glass doors, Nancy halted, frowning. “But how did those nuts get into Cindy’s cereal, Bess?” she pondered. “What if someone put them there deliberately?”
“You mean like a practical joke?” Bess asked.
“Not a very funny joke,” Nancy declared. “Serious allergies can be very dangerous. What if Cindy’s throat swelled closed, or she went into anaphylactic shock and her heart stopped?”
“Nancy!” Bess stared at her in horror.
“I’m not saying that’s what happened,” Nancy added hastily. “But it’s possible. And if the person responsible for her death found her, he or she might have hidden the body somewhere, hoping that the crime would never be discovered.”
“Cindy dead?” Bess said, her eyes filling with tears.
Nancy shuddered at the thought, then reached over and patted her friend’s shoulder. “Let’s hope not,” she said. “If she is alive, then she’s probably in hiding.”
“Where do you think she might be?” Bess asked as they pushed through the doors.
Walking down the street, Nancy tried to imagine herself in Cindy’s situation. If she had to disappear, wouldn’t she want to have help from someone she trusted? A close girlfriend, like Bess—or her boyfriend?
“Maybe there’s someone who does know where she is,” Nancy said. “Do you still have Cody’s address?”
Bess stopped to rummage through her wallet. She soon found the address. It was on the west side of Chicago, out toward Oak Park.
“Let’s go,” Nancy said, setting off at a jog for the parking lot to get the Mustang.
Twenty minutes later they were parking in front of Cody’s apartment building. “Keep your eye on the door and your fingers crossed,” Nancy told Bess. “I’m going to try to trick him into leading us to Cindy.”
Nancy went to a pay phone on the corner and called Cody. He picked up on the second ring.
“Hi, this is Nancy Drew,” she said. “Look, Cody, I’m getting really upset. Stella told Ann Bowers this morning that she’s decided to give the Healthibits job to Gayle. For some reason, they don’t believe Cindy was kidnapped, they think she just skipped out.”
After a silence Cody said, “I can’t talk now, Nancy. I’ll call you later.”
Nancy hurried back to her car and motioned for Bess to slide down in the seat. A minute later they saw Cody rush out of his building. He got into a white compact car. As soon as he pulled out, Nancy and Bess followed, half a block behind him.
For the next hour Nancy used every trick she knew to keep Cody from spotting them. He led them north for miles, into the forests of Wisconsin, on smaller and smaller roads. Nancy had to stay far back, out of sight, and often she couldn’t see Cody’s car. Eventually, as she rounded a bend, what she’d been dreading happened.
“Nancy! We’ve lost him!” Bess exclaimed.
“Not yet, we haven’t,” Nancy replied grimly. “Maybe he saw us and sped up, but maybe he just turned off somewhere. You watch your side and I’ll watch mine.”
A hundred yards farther along, Nancy suddenly hit the brakes. “Look!” she said in a low voice.
A track led off to the left, into the woods. A branch that overhung it was still swaying, as if something had just brushed past it. Nancy pulled off the road on the opposite side, hiding the Mustang behind a thick cover of bushes. “From here we hike,” she announced.
She and Bess followed the track through the woods. In five minutes they reached a clearing. Through the trees, a pond sparkled in the sunlight. Cody’s car was parked at the edge of the clearing, near the foot of a muddy, bramble-choked path.
“Nancy, look!” Bess exclaimed, pointing at the ground next to the white car.
In getting out, Cody had stepped in a patch of mud. Nancy instantly recognized the shoeprint.
It was an Ourson running shoe—size ten.
15
The Island’s Secret
As she looked down at the incriminating footprint, Nancy felt her thoughts spin. So Cody had been the eavesdropper they’d chased into the basement freight tunnels. And it had been Cody who’d pushed the Dumpster at them yesterday.
That meant that Cody was willing to resort to violence. What if he was the one who had doctored Cindy’s cereal, hoping an allergic reaction would force her to give up the Healthibits campaign?
Was this place Cindy’s hideout? Or her prison? Or her grave?
“It was Cody who attacked us!” Bess said indignantly. “He must have been afraid that we’d find out the truth.”
“It looks that way,” Nancy agreed. “But that wasn’t his car that tried to run us down in the garage last night. His car’s a white compact. The one last night was a dark sedan.”
“He must have borrowed another car or stolen it,” Bess retorted. “We’d better be careful. If he spots us, he could be dangerous.”
Nancy took the lead, following the narrow path through the trees along the edge of the pond. The air was still and humid, and soon she felt a trickle of sweat on her face and neck. A cloud of tiny bugs hovered around her head, too. She tried to brush them away, but it was like trying to wrestle mist.
Then Bess tapped Nancy’s shoulder and whispered, “Look—a tiny island with a cabin on it.”
Nancy peered through the screen of trees. The island, not much bigger than a tennis court, was about fifty feet from shore. A swaying footbridge linked it to the bank. The cabin was small, too—no more than two or three rooms. A deck jutted out over the water, looking like a perfect place to spend a lazy afternoon pretending to fish.
“They must be inside,” Nancy whispered back. “Let’s be quiet—we don’t want Cody to know we’ve found them.”
The two girls crept along the path until they reached the footbridge. At this end, the ropes that supported it were tied to a sturdy oak tree. Bess examined it, then gave Nancy a questioning look.
Nancy pointed to herself, then toward the island. She stepped onto the bridge, moving carefully from plank to plank and gripping the cords that served as handrails. Once across, she turned back and beckoned to Bess.
