Nancy turned off the microfiche reader. A tight, sad feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Marisa had lost her parents and her grandmother. She had lost her sight. This week her dog had been taken, her life had been threatened, and she had broken up with her boyfriend. Now Nancy suspected her of a major crime. Nancy sighed. She hoped she was wrong. She wanted to believe Marisa. But if Marisa was innocent—who was guilty?
Why did the old counterfeit money suddenly resurface? Who vandalized the inn? And who threatened Marisa? These questions ran through Nancy’s head as she drove back to Bess’s house. If Emmaline was the counterfeiter, she didn’t work alone. Frank Goetz and Don Blevins might have been her accomplices, but were there others? And could other members of the old counterfeiting ring be involved in the recent incidents? If so, they had eluded the police for twenty-five years. How would Nancy track them down now?
Nancy arrived at the Marvin house and jumped out of the car with Bess’s library book. “Bess!” Nancy called as she entered the foyer. Mrs. Marvin’s potted palm tree lay on its side. Nancy bent to turn it upright and Casey ran to greet her. “What did you do now, Casey?” Nancy rubbed the puppy’s head affectionately. Casey followed Nancy into the living room. Books, papers, and slightly chewed laundry covered the floor. Bess sat on the sofa, her head buried in her hands. Nancy drew in a deep breath. “I think I brought that dog-obedience book just in time.”
Bess looked up. Her eyes were red. “It’s not Casey’s fault. She had a very nerve-racking morning,” she said. “We were robbed.”
13
Birthday Surprise
“Robbed?” Nancy repeated. She sat down next to Bess. “Did you call the police?”
Bess shook her head. “No. I wanted to ask you first.” She gestured around the room. “I think this might have something to do with the counterfeiting case.”
“Why?” Nancy asked.
“The only thing that was taken was Mrs. Whitby’s sewing machine,” Bess said. “Who knows why, but I’m sure it’s not a coincidence. But why would anybody want that one piece? Marisa said it wasn’t particularly valuable.”
“I don’t know,” Nancy said. “Are you sure nothing else was stolen?”
Bess nodded. “I’m sure. But my parents aren’t going to be too happy about the broken window in the laundry room—that’s how the thief got in.” Bess shook her head. “I was gone for twenty minutes. I was taking your breakfast to George.”
Nancy bent down and picked up a handkerchief from the scattered laundry on the floor. She used it to lift the telephone receiver. “I’m definitely calling the police. They can send someone to dust for fingerprints.”
Nancy phoned Detective Lee, who promised to have uniformed officers at the Marvins’ house within the hour.
As Nancy hung up the phone, the doorbell rang. Bess ushered Marisa and Misty into the living room.
“How did you get here?” Bess asked Marisa.
Marisa flushed. “Devon gave me a ride.”
Bess grinned. “Well, that’s one good thing that’s happened today.”
Marisa sighed. “Yeah. I think so. We had a good talk.” She made her way to the couch and sat down. “Bess, what am I stepping on? Is it laundry?”
“Yes. I would pick it up,” Bess explained, “but this is officially a crime scene.”
Marisa groaned. “What happened?”
“I’m sorry to say that someone stole your grandmother’s sewing machine,” Bess said.
“Your sewing machine, you mean,” Marisa said. “That’s terrible. What else was taken?”
“Nothing,” Bess replied.
“Nothing?” Marisa frowned. “This has something to do with the counterfeit money, doesn’t it?”
“We think so,” Nancy said.
“I can’t believe this. Did you call the police?” Marisa asked.
“Yes,” Bess said. “And you don’t want to hang around here while the police poke around the house. It’s your birthday. Nancy, why don’t you do something with Marisa?”
“Good idea,” Nancy said. She knew it was her job to keep Marisa occupied until her surprise party that evening at Café Olé. “Do you think you could teach me Braille, Marisa?”
Bess looked shocked. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind for birthday entertainment.”
Marisa laughed. “That’s okay. I’d love to do something useful. Why do you want to learn Braille?”
“So I can read your grandmother’s journal—some of it, at least,” Nancy said.
“And check out my story, I suppose,” Marisa said. “Very sensible. That’s what I would do if I were you.”
“Is that okay with you?” Nancy asked.
“Absolutely,” Marisa said.
“I tried to get a book on Braille at the library,” Nancy explained, “but Eric had already checked it out.”
Marisa smiled. “Eric’s amazing. He’s always wanted to learn Braille. I’m sure he’s the best volunteer the library’s ever had—and they’ve had many.”
“Wait a minute.” Nancy snapped her fingers. “The librarian told me today that your grandmother was a major benefactor of the library.”
Marisa nodded. “I didn’t know that, but I’m not surprised. She loved to read.”
“Then I’d bet she took advantage of their volunteer reader service,” Nancy said.
