George grinned. “I can see it now. Nancy could be a combination baby-sitter and detective.”
“Exactly,” Carson agreed. “What do you think, Nan?”
She didn’t have to think about it at all. Although Nancy was only eighteen years old, she was an accomplished detective. She’d solved dozens of cases. The idea of helping Amy and figuring out who had been breaking into Terry Kirkland’s house intrigued her. “Ask Terry when his next show is scheduled,” she answered. “And tell him I’ll be there.”
“Ahem,” Mr. Drew said. “I hope you’ll forgive me, but I already took the liberty of doing that.”
“And?” Nancy asked eagerly.
“He has three shows coming up next week,” Carson replied. “They’re all in northern California, so he’ll only be gone a day or two at a time.”
“That’s the week before Joanne’s wedding,” Bess said. “She asked me if I wanted to fly out early. You know Joanne, she’s doing everything herself and could use a few extra hands.”
“I offered to help with the food,” George said. “I figured I ought to put my catering experience to use.” George had worked for a caterer when Nancy had solved the mystery of The Double Horror of Fenley Place. “But then we found out that most of Joanne’s family will be staying with her, and there really wasn’t room for us.”
“Terry’s got a big, beautiful three-story house,” Mr. Drew said thoughtfully. “Maybe what he really needs are three baby-sitter detectives.”
Bess and George had often accompanied Nancy on her investigations. Bess wasn’t quite as fearless as George, but their company always made solving mysteries more fun for Nancy.
“This is perfect!” Bess cried. “We’ll go out early with Nancy. And while she works on the case, we’ll work on the wedding.”
“Actually, I think I’d rather work on the case,” George said.
Nancy held up one hand, laughing. “Let’s check with Terry first and make sure he’s willing to take in all three of us. If he is, I’m sure we’ll all find plenty to do.”
• • •
Four days later, on a Friday afternoon, Nancy stepped out of the San Francisco airport terminal and into the warm California sunshine. “I can’t believe this is winter,” she said to Bess and George. “It must be over seventy degrees out.”
“You’re lucky. You’ve caught us during one of our February warm spells,” Terry Kirkland said to the girls. He and his daughter, Amy, had met them at the gate. Terry was a tall, slim man in his late thirties. He had longish, slightly graying hair and a warm, easygoing manner that made Nancy like him at once. “I hope you can get in a little sight-seeing while you’re here,” he said. “But if it’s the city you want to see, I’m afraid it’s going to be a drive. Cherry Creek, where we live, is a good hour and a half away.”
That didn’t bother Nancy at all. She had been in San Francisco before on other cases. This time she was looking forward to being in the country.
“Actually, it’s perfect,” Bess said. “You live about half an hour away from our friend Joanne.”
“We really appreciate your letting us stay at your house,” George said.
Terry grinned. “I think it will work out for everyone. I can’t begin to tell you how glad I was when Carson called and told me he was sending the three of you.”
“Me, too,” Amy piped in. “Ever since our housekeeper quit, Dad’s been worried about me.”
Terry took his daughter’s hand as they began walking through the parking lot. With her long, straight black hair, nine-year-old Amy resembled her Vietnamese mother.
“Lots of houses are broken into around here,” Amy said matter-of-factly. “It’s nothing to get scared about.”
“As you can tell, Amy is the calm one in the family,” Terry said as he opened the side door of his van. “So I’m panicking for both of us.”
Terry loaded their suitcases into the back, and the three girls got into the backseat of the van. Amy insisted on sitting beside Nancy.
“How bad were the break-ins?” Nancy asked as Terry pulled out of the airport parking lot.
“In terms of what was taken, not bad at all,” he answered. “The first time they took the stereo system and TV.”
Nancy nodded. “Electronics are the easiest items to fence.”
“I guess so,” Terry agreed, “because the next time they came back and cleaned out my computer, the microwave, the answering machine, and Amy’s portable cassette player. What’s surprising is they didn’t take any of the really valuable stuff—my glasswork.”
“That would be much harder to resell,” Nancy explained. “Someone might recognize your work. It sounds as if these were fairly typical robberies.”
“Not exactly,” Terry said. “After the first break-in I had a very sophisticated alarm system installed. Whoever broke in the second time dismantled the alarm as easily as unplugging a lamp.”
“The thief must be a real pro,” George observed.
The three girls caught their breath as Terry drove onto the Golden Gate Bridge. Below them San Francisco Bay sparkled in the late afternoon sunlight. Directly across the bridge lay the low green mountains and windswept coast of the Marin Headlands.
“We live over there,” Amy said, pointing to the west. “Our house is all the way on the other side of Mount Tamalpais, beyond Stinson Beach.”
Nancy glanced briefly at the beautiful coastline, but her mind was focused on the crime. “It sounds as if your thief was casing the house. The first time he, or she, broke in to see what you had that was worth stealing. Maybe there was only time to take the two obvious things, the TV and the stereo. The second time was the real robbery.”
“Or maybe it was two different thieves,” George suggested.
“Good point,” Nancy said.
“I just hope they got what they wanted,” Terry said as he turned onto a winding mountain road. “All that matters to me is that they don’t come back.”
“Don’t worry, Dad,” Amy said confidently. “Nancy and I will get to the bottom of this.”
Terry gave his daughter a wry smile. “I hope you work quickly.”
