Hidden Meanings by Carolyn Keene Page A

I fired him,” Gina said.
    â€œTell her, Gina,” Sally said in a low voice. Her gentle gray eyes actually looked stern.
    Nancy perked up. “Tell me what?”
    Sally turned to Nancy. “Well,” she began, “Gina faked the first break-in, hoping to make Jane Sellery look bad. Gina messed up our room herself and then put that Brookfield pen under the bed. She’d swiped it from Jane that afternoon. She told me the truth last night, after the fire, because I was so scared about all these incidents. I told her she had to tell you.”
    Nancy turned to Gina, stunned. “Why did you do that? Jane might have gotten into serious trouble.”
    Gina tossed her head and looked away. “It was a practical joke,” she said. “I saw Jane laughing at me in the lobby after I fell in the water, and it made me angry. I wanted to get back at her.”
    Nancy blew out a sigh of disgust. “So just to carry on this stupid feud, you created all this trouble?” she asked angrily. “Do you realize that someone from the housekeeping staff nearly got fired because of that break-in? Not to mention the worry it caused Mr. Ruxton and Ms. Peabody and Mr. Wasilick—”
    Gina stuck out her jaw. “I didn’t expect people to take it so seriously,” she said sullenly. “But then the other stuff happened, and that was real.” She looked up at Nancy. “The person who was almost fired—is her job safe now?” she asked, sounding sincere.
    â€œWell, yes, but she had a very unpleasant couple of days,” Nancy said tensely. “Now I’m going to have to rethink my whole investigation. At least I can drop Jane from the suspect list.” She drew an exasperated breath. “Will you both be at the workshop all afternoon?”
    Gina and Sally nodded.
    â€œI’ll meet you here just before dinner,” Nancy said. “Tomorrow’s the last day of the conference. Until then, Gina, be careful. This hotel is a prime place for our culprit to hurt you—I’ll bet he strikes again before you leave. Be on your guard every minute!”
    Saying goodbye to Gina and Sally, Nancy went down to the lobby. As she hunted for Bess, Nancy tried to get her mind off Gina’s prank. Feeling a tap on her shoulder, she spun around quickly.
    â€œIt’s me,” Bess said with a cheerful grin. “Guess who I found? Mr. Baggy Pants.”
    â€œYou did?” Nancy asked, her spirits rising.
    Bess nodded. “He came in through the front doors and I followed him upstairs,” she reported. “He went to room 637. He had a keycard and let himself in.”
    â€œGood work!” Nancy said with delight. “Sixth floor, huh? But he was on seven earlier today, and he took the elevator up —not back down to six. Seems pretty suspicious to me. The front desk won’t give out information on guests, but maybe Ms. Peabody can help us find this guy’s name. And while we’re there, we can speak to her about Paul’s job.”
    The girls went to Maureen Peabody’s office. Ms. Peabody wasn’t in, the secretary told them, but she had been authorized to give Nancy access to any information she needed. Her computer showed them that room 637 was registered to a Harold Karabell from Chicago.
    At Nancy’s request, the secretary agreed to make a printout of all the phone numbers that Karabell had dialed from his room during his stay. It would be ready in an hour, she said.
    â€œSo he’s from Chicago—that doesn’t tie him to the Washington, D.C., matchbook I found,” Nancy said as she and Bess left the office. “And there’s still the possibility he’s with the workshop. Can you find Mr. Ruxton and check out that angle?”
    Bess nodded eagerly and sprinted off.
    Looking at her watch, Nancy saw it was almost three. She hurried to the escalator and rode it up to the mezzanine-level café. Ned waved