Lost in the Everglades by Carolyn Keene

Author:Carolyn Keene
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin
Published: 2001-09-05T04:00:00+00:00

“I want to report a hit-and-run.”

Back at their cabin at Flamingo, Nancy was on the phone with the local police. George was lying on the floor, dressed in sweats, doing some ab crunches. Bess was in the bathroom, taking a shower. Nancy could hear her singing.

After a moment Nancy was transferred to a police officer named Detective Garcia. Nancy told her what had happened to her, Bess, and George on their way home from Miami. Detective Garcia took down the information, then began asking Nancy some questions.

“You didn’t get the whole license plate number?” Detective Garcia asked.

“I’m afraid not. Just ‘JDO.’ The rest of it was covered with mud.”

“Were those the first three letters, or the last three letters?”

“First.”

“Uh-huh,” Detective Garcia said. “You say it was some sort of a gray four-door sedan? Did you catch the make?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Dark gray or light gray or silvery gray?” Nancy thought for a moment. “More like dark gray. Like a charcoal gray.”

“Uh-huh. What about a description of the driver? Male or female? White, African-American, Asian-American, Hispanic, or other?”

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t tell,” Nancy said apologetically. “The person was wearing a coat with the collar turned up, plus a wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses. I couldn’t even tell if it was a man or a woman.”

“A coat in this heat?” Detective Garcia sounded surprised.

“That’s what I thought, too,” Nancy said.

Detective Garcia asked Nancy a few more questions, then she took Nancy’s name and phone number at the cabin. She promised to try to run a license check based on Nancy’s information and call her with the results.

Nancy thanked her and hung up. “Any progress?” George asked her. “Nine, ten, eleven,” she said as she continued to do her ab crunches. “I’m almost finished with this set,” she explained.

“She said she’d do what she could, based on the partial license plate number and the description of the car,” Nancy said. She picked up the phone again.

“Nowwho’re you calling?” George asked.

“I’m going to try to find the leader of CAMC— Citizens Against Manatee Commons. This Jeff Kelly guy.”

Nancy cradled the phone against her ear, then picked up the phone book and put it on her lap. She looked up Jeff Kelly’s name. There were a dozen Jeff Kellys in the phone book.

“Oh, great,” Nancy moaned, then began dialing.

A man answered on the first try. “Hello?”

“Hi, Jeff Kelly? Is this the Jeff Kelly who’s the head of CAMC?”

“The head ofwhat?You’ve got the wrong number.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Nancy hung up and tried again. She went through eight similar conversations before she finally got lucky.

When she dialed the number of the ninth Jeff Kelly, a man’s voice answered. But instead of the usual “Hello?” he said, “Sandy?”

Nancy started. “Uh, no, this is Nancy.”

“Sorry, I was expecting another call,” the man said. “What can I do for you?”

“Is this Jeff Kelly of CAMC?”

“Speaking.”

Nancy hesitated for a second. Should she come right out and ask him if he knew Jade Romero? Or should she get more information about CAMC and the Drakes first?

She decided on the latter course.

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