Hidden Meanings by Carolyn Keene Page B

asked Nancy.
    â€œPossibly,” Nancy said, “although Paul still did leave work when he wasn’t supposed to. I can’t really approach Mr. Wasilick about it. He doesn’t like me. But I will try to talk to Ms. Peabody.”
    Paul broke into a relieved smile. “Thanks!” Waving goodbye, Paul climbed into his car and drove away. “I can’t believe Mr. Wasilick suspects Paul of setting that fire,” George said, annoyed.
    â€œWell,” Nancy said slowly, “he was missing at the right time. And if Mr. Wasilick knew Paul had a grudge against the Fiorellas—”
    â€œNancy, don’t tell me you think Paul did anything wrong!” George interrupted, looking upset.
    Nancy sighed. “He did deliver that dead rat, George,” she said. “He fits Rosita’s description of the man who lifted her passkey. He works in the kitchen, so he could have left those skewers. Maybe he does hate the Fiorellas, or maybe—what if Gina’s dad’s enemies paid him to get close to Bianca in the first place?”
    George and Bess both drew back. “Nancy, you really have a suspicious mind,” Bess said.
    â€œLook, guys, I like Paul,” Nancy insisted, “but we still don’t know why this stuff is happening to Gina. The only way to prove Paul’s innocence is to find out who really did these things. We have to step up our surveillance. Let’s see . . . you both know what Jane Sellery looks like. But, George, you’ve never seen Nick Kessler. He’s big and very muscular, with short dark hair, blue eyes, and a square jaw.”
    â€œGot it,” George said. “I know what that guy with the beard looks like—I saw him yesterday at the pool.”
    â€œBut I wouldn’t be able to recognize him,” Bess said. “Do you really consider him a suspect, Nancy?”
    â€œIt’s just a hunch,” Nancy said, “but we can’t overlook anything. He could have heard us talking about the oleander, George. We know he was in the lobby two days ago, when Gina fell into the pool.” Suddenly Nancy paused. “Hey, Bess, he’s in that photo Sally took of Evan Sharpless. Let’s go see if she has a copy of it, to show you what he looks like. Even though her negatives were stolen, there’s a chance she may have made some prints in the darkroom.”
    George said goodbye and headed for the pool, where she was scheduled to lifeguard. Nancy and Bess made their way to the workshop meeting area in the Muskoka Lobby. The red-carpeted landing was filled with students. Felt-covered blackboard-style displays had been set up in one section, and editors were busily pinning up photos, hand-lettered headlines, and typed squares of paper.
    Nancy spotted Ned, leaning against a side wall. “There’s Ned, so Gina must be nearby,” Nancy said.
    â€œThere’s Gina,” Bess said, pointing to a blue display board with the school name Lloyd Hall mounted on it. Wielding a long steel ruler, Gina was intently lining up a photograph with a block of copy. Sally knelt at the bottom of the board, sorting through more photos. Both were dressed in George’s old sweatsuits. Somehow, Nancy noticed, Gina still looked glamorous.
    Sally saw Nancy and waved. Nancy walked over to admire the display. “Looks great,” she said.
    Gina leaned back, squinting critically. “I don’t know why they stuck us in this dark corner,” she complained. “Sally’s pictures deserve better lighting, and nobody can read this copy I wrote.”
    â€œGina, Sally, this is my friend Bess,” Nancy said. “She works here at the hotel.” Gina threw Bess a dismissive glance. Sally smiled and said hello.
    â€œBess is a big Evan Sharpless fan, Sally, and I told her you had some super shots of him,” Nancy declared. “I hope they weren’t all stolen.”
    â€œAs a matter of fact,”