along and finds it before we freeze,” Bess said.
“If someone skis by us on that trail, we'll still need to
shout for help,” Nancy said. “But they'll have a better
chance of hearing our voices if they stop to pick up this
message.”
“Good thinking,” Dexter said, “because most people
would ski by too fast to hear us.”
“Especially with all this wind,” George added.
“But what if the last person has already skied down
the mountain?” Bess asked.
Bess echoed Nancy's worst fears, but Nancy saw no
point in worrying the others. “I'm sure that the ski
patrol goes down each slope at the end of the day, just
to make sure that no one broke a leg or something.”
Five minutes later they heard voices on the trail.
“Hey, we're stuck!” Dexter bellowed. “Help!”
A ski patroller in a maroon parka appeared in the
space between the trees, waving a two-way radio at
them. Nancy could barely make out his partner behind
him.
Ten seconds later the lift started up with a jolt, and
the ski patrollers gave the kids the thumbs-up sign
before picking up Nancy's pole and moving on.
“Thank heavens!” Bess exclaimed, with a deep
breath of relief.
The lift sailed up the mountain again without a
problem. Once they'd reached the top, Nancy skied
over to the lift operator's hut and asked, “What hap-
pened? Did the lift break or did you guys forget we
were on it?”
“The guy at the bottom must have really goofed,
miss,” the operator said, a huge wad of bubble gum
snapping in his jaws. “See, he calls me with the number
of the last occupied chair after we close the lift at four
o'clock. Then I call him back when that chair arrives at
the top, and we stop the lift. Well, the number of the
chair he gave me was the one that carried the
passengers before you. Problem was, there was a good
thirty-chair gap between you guys. I was just getting
ready to close up shop and ski down for the night when
ski patrol came by to say that passengers were still
onboard. Oh, and if all that stuff wasn't weird enough,
my phone line went dead, too.”
The operator advised the kids to warm up with a cup
of hot chocolate in the mountaintop lodge, which
would be closing at four-thirty. As he was gesturing
toward a round stone structure behind a stand of trees,
a familiar dark-skinned man with a gray beard sneered
at Nancy from the top of a nearby trail. The moment
they locked gazes, the man skied away
“Who's that?” Nancy asked, trying to jog her
memory.
“Bill Ehret,” Dexter replied. “He owns Thunderbird
Ranch. I know him because he's a friend of Dad's.
Actually, the reason Dad and I came to stay at Elk
River Ranch is that Mr. Ehret recommended it. He
thinks this whole area is great for outdoors stuff
because it's so uncrowded, and that's exactly what Dad
likes.”
“Excuse me, guys,” Nancy said quickly, pushing
herself toward the top of the trail with her remaining
pole. Over her shoulder, she added, “I don't need any
hot chocolate. Meet you at the base lodge.”
Dexter frowned, throwing her a puzzled look as she
took off. Nancy hoped she wasn't being rude, but she
was eager to know why Mr. Ehret had been lurking
around the area after their scare on the lift. Could he
have given the lift operator the wrong information and
then cut the phone line? she wondered.
Nancy paused for a moment at the top of a double
black diamond slope called Twister. Mr. Ehret's bright
green parka was already halfway down it. If she didn't
keep him in sight, she might lose him on one of the
many woodland trails opening off the expert slope.
I can't let myself get freaked by this hill, Nancy
thought, even though I have only one pole. Taking a
deep breath, she plunged down, doing quick parallel
turns through the gigantic moguls at a frighteningly
steep angle. Meanwhile, Mr. Ehret was zooming over
the moguls way ahead, sending up showers of snow in
his wake.
I guess Mrs. Stevenson's bad driving didn't affect
this guy's skiing after all, she mused as he executed a
perfect right turn onto an adjoining trail.
Nancy struggled to catch up. She leaned back on her
skis with knees bent and pole tucked under her arm for
maximum speed. In the setting sun, the moguls cast
huge shadows that obscured parts of the snow like
murky pools, making the skiing especially treacherous.
By the time Nancy reached the narrow trail where Mr.
Ehret had turned, he was already far ahead, a bright
speck amid dim tree shadows.
I'll never get him this way, Nancy thought, catching
sight of him turning left onto yet another trail. She
studied the trees to her left. I'll bet if I go through the
woods, I'll end up on the trail Mr. Ehret is on now, she
reasoned. I just wish I had more light.
Nancy took a deep breath, then forged ahead into
the woods. As she picked up speed, huge trees seemed
to come at her like enemy soldiers. Sometimes an
overhanging branch would slap her in the face, its
needles pricking her skin. It was like a nightmare
obstacle course, and she had to use all her athletic skill
to avoid slamming into tree trunks.
Nancy's legs were shaking by the time she reached
the trail below, and to make matters worse, Mr. Ehret
was a good fifty feet ahead. By the time the trail
opened onto a broad intermediate slope leading to the
base lodge, a group of lingering skiers had appeared
from a higher part of the slope, blocking Nancy's way.
Frustrated, Nancy excused herself, angling to get
around them. Once free, Nancy scanned the wide
slope, but Mr. Ehret had disappeared.
Nancy raced down the hill. There's a chance I'll
catch him at the lodge, she hoped.
Several people were taking off their skis and leaning
them against wooden ski rests when she arrived. Nancy
studied the group but recognized no one. A patch of
bright green flashed into her view amid a throng of
departing skiers way over by the parking lot.
Could that be Mr. Ehret getting into a maroon
Jeep? she wondered. The person was too far away for
her to tell.
Nancy clenched her fists, feeling incredibly frus-
trated. She knew that by the time she took off her skis
and hurried over there, she'd be too late to catch him.
Nancy skied over to the base of the chairlift, where
the lift operator was talking to a telephone technician.
“I'm so sorry, miss,” the operator said, when he
learned that Nancy was one of the group who'd been
stranded on the lift. “I tried to call my partner at the
top of the lift, but for some reason, our phone line was
dead. We're getting ready to fix it
now.”
After learning that the operator hadn't noticed
anyone hanging around his area earlier, Nancy thanked
him for the information. Then, after retrieving her ski
pole from the ski rack where the patroller had hung it,
she joined Bess, George, and Dexter, who were taking
off their skis by the base lodge.
After Bess explained that the mountaintop lodge had
closed when they got there, Dexter threw Nancy a
questioning look and said, “Boy, were you in a hurry,
Nancy—and you went down Twister, too, with one
pole! Was it something I said?”
Nancy laughed. “Sorry to run off like that, Dexter. I,
uh . . . thought I saw someone I knew.”
That evening, after privately telling the Marshalls
about their day, Nancy, George, and Bess sat down to a
hearty buffet-style spaghetti-and-meatballs dinner at
Elk River Ranch. Once they, Paul, Dody, Dexter, and
the Marshalls were all seated, Nancy asked Dody how
he knew Bill Ehret.
“Oh, Bill and I go way back,” Dody said, helping
himself to some salad. “We were foreign correspon-
dents in the Soviet Union during the cold war, and also
in Vietnam. He's exactly like me—enjoys living life on
the edge. Some people think he's a crotchety old
geezer, but they just don't know him.”
“He's just a real straight shooter,” Dody explained.
“He's not afraid to tell it like it is. I admire his
gutsiness. He'd fight to the finish for his beliefs.”
“With all due respect, Dody,” Paul said, scowling, “I
think you're dead wrong. Bill Ehret is an awful man.
He's obsessed with keeping wild wolves out of
Wyoming. If he saw one he'd shoot it without thinking
twice, even though he knows it's illegal.”
Dody speared a lettuce leaf with gusto, then said, “I
understand where you're coming from, Paul, but Bill's
just superindependent. He's not going to let himself be
pushed around by anybody. That's both his strength
and his weakness.”
After they'd all finished, John suggested adjourning
to the living room for coffee and dessert. Taking her
cappuccino cup to a chair by the fire, Nancy challenged
George to a game of chess.
“You're on, Nan,” George said excitedly, setting
down a plate of cookies on a nearby table while she
helped Nancy set up the board. “Hey, what's that?”
Nancy looked up to see George pointing at the elk's
head above the fireplace. A piece of folded white paper
was impaled on its right antler.
“It looks like it might be a note,” Nancy said.
Everyone gathered around Nancy as she moved a
side chair directly under the elk's nose.
“Be careful, Nancy,” Alice warned. “That chair looks
a bit wobbly. I wouldn't want you falling into the fire.”
“After skiing down Twister today, Nancy can defi-
nitely manage a chair,” Dody said pleasantly.
Nancy assured Alice she'd be fine, then reached for
the paper. Moments later she was back on the floor,
opening it up.
“ Hear ye, hear ye!' ” she read. “Ban wild wolves
from Wyoming if you ever want to see your tame one
again!' ”
11. On the Brink of Disaster
“Let me see that!” John thundered, taking the note
from Nancy. After reading it, his gray eyes flashed with
anger. “This is beyond belief. Someone must have
taken Rainbow to make us vote against allowing wolves
into Wyoming.”
“That's so horrible!” Jenny exclaimed. “This person
took an innocent mother wolf and her puppies just to
win a political issue?”
“But how much power do these guys have?” Nancy
asked. “I mean, could someone really get the govern-
ment to change its mind and ban them?”
“I doubt it,” Paul said, “though some ranchers are
suing to make reintroduction illegal. Anyway, Nancy,
this note is probably directed at me. Alice, John, and
Jenny haven't been involved with the wild wolf
controversy at all. They're completely neutral. I'm the
one who's been pushing to bring wild wolves back to
Wyoming.”
“So you think that this person is trying to manipulate
you into changing your mind about relocating wolves
here?” Nancy asked Paul.
“Seems that way,” Paul answered. “See, after the
government decided to relocate the wolves, I'd go to
town meetings to try to get people to accept the idea of
wild wolves living in the western states. I wrote a lot of
letters supporting this program, and this thief must
think my opinion carries weight with people in charge.
But the only thing I could really do to affect anything
would be to support the ranchers' lawsuit against the
program.”
“If you ask me, the creepiest thing about the note is
that the person sneaked in here with it this afternoon,”
Jenny said. She gave a little shiver. “I mean, I don't
remember seeing it at lunch. Mom, Dad, and I must
have been alone in the house when the person came.”
Nancy had a sudden urge to talk to George and Bess
privately about the case. “I'm tired,” she said, throwing
them a meaningful look. “I'm going upstairs.”
“Me, too,” Bess and George said in unison. After
thanking the Marshalls for dinner, the three girls met
in Nancy and George's room.
didn't have a chance to tell you this earlier because
Dexter was with us, but Paul had actually been up
there on my list of suspects.”
“Really? Why?” Bess asked, eager to know.
Nancy told Bess and George about finding Paul's
letter to his professor, as well as his stun gun and darts.
She also mentioned that Paul had been out in the
blizzard when Rainbow had vanished. “He claimed
he'd been working on the wolf exhibits, but who knows
what he'd really been doing,” she finished.
Sitting on the edge of Nancy's bed, Bess cupped her
chin on her hand and said, “You said Paul had' been
up there on your suspect list. Does that mean he's off
the hook now?”
“Well, the note makes me a lot less suspicious of
Paul,” Nancy said. “I mean, since he's always talking
about bringing more wolves to Wyoming, why would
he hold Rainbow hostage to make the opposite thing
come true? He'd be giving his enemies a way by get-
ting rid of wild wolves. That doesn't make any sense.”
“Here's what else doesn't make sense about Paul,”
Bess said. “He knows how much Jenny cares about
Rainbow, so why would he give his own fiancée all this
grief by stealing her pet wolf?”
“He wouldn't—unless he was a total creep,” Nancy
said.
George eyed Nancy thoughtfully “I just don't think
he did it. I mean, his letter ma
y have hinted that he
could have set Rainbow free because he doesn't believe
in taming wild animals. But an animal lover like Paul
would know that freeing a tame wolf in the middle of
winter with her five newborn puppies would be much
crueler than keeping them as pets.”
“If Paul was really at a town meeting today while the
puppies were stolen, he's probably not guilty,” Nancy
said. “I'll call the town supervisor tomorrow to find out
if he was there.”
“Now, what about Rusty?” George said, slipping out
of her clogs and sitting cross-legged on her bed. “He's
definitely a weirdo, but is he organized enough to
sneak in here and kidnap the wolves?”
“I think he's guilty,” Bess said firmly. “He seemed
totally thrilled to get that Swiss army knife back, and he
was a pretty good actor about not letting on that it was
his.”
“You know who my number one suspect is now,
guys?” Nancy said. “Mr. Ehret.”
“Mr. Ehret!” Bess exclaimed. “Why?”
“A couple of reasons,” Nancy replied. “First, he was
hanging out at the top of the chairlift when we got
there, and he gave me this really mean look— maybe
because he was mad that his plan didn't work.”
“Plan?” Bess echoed.
“I think he wanted to strand us on the lift,” Nancy
explained. “He could have used a cell phone to call the
lift operator to say that the people before us were the
last ones up. Then he could have cut his phone line so
the guy at the bottom couldn't give out the right
information.”
Nancy paused while she rummaged through her
drawer for a nightgown. After slipping it on, she added,
“But the main reason I suspect Mr. Ehret is the note
we just got.”
“Why?” George asked. “Because he's a rancher, and
ranchers are known for not wanting wolves around?”
Nancy nodded. “Just think—Mr. Ehret is a rancher
who's totally against relocating wolves to Wyoming.
Maybe he took Rainbow and her puppies to get Paul
on his side. I mean, Paul has a high profile about help-
ing endangered wolves, and his opinion might have
some influence, especially if he joined the ranchers'
lawsuit. I think we should investigate Thunderbird
Ranch—Mr. Ehret's place—tomorrow.”
“Okay by me,” George said, stifling a yawn. “I don't
know about you guys, but I could use some sleep.