The Secret at Solaire by Carolyn Keene Page B

trainer,” George said.
    â€œNo, but my father was one,” Alain said, “for a college football team. I grew up in France with an exercise regimen that makes Solaire’s routine look like an afternoon nap. And I’m a pretty good amateur detective, too.”
    â€œSpare us,” George murmured.
    â€œI tried,” Alain went on. “But you kept getting in the way, Nancy Drew. I never expected you to try anything as crazy as breaking into Hank Meader’s house. What did you think you were doing?”
    â€œTrying to find Kim Foster,” Nancy replied evenly. “Did you even realize she’s been kidnapped?”
    â€œWhy don’t we all stop arguing and try to help each other?” George said. “Hank Meader just pulled out of the parking lot.”
    Without another word, Alain, Nancy, and George all piled back into the Solaire station wagon. “Go to the left,” Alain told Nancy, “and then north on Silverbell.”
    â€œWhy?” Nancy asked. She knew George was right. She and Alain ought to be sharing information and helping each other, but she still found it hard to trust him.
    â€œBecause,” Alain said, with an obvious attempt at patience, “that’s where Hank Meader has another house.”
    â€œAre you sure?” Nancy asked.
    â€œPositive.”
    Nancy followed Alain’s precise directions to a narrow dirt road on the north side of the Tucson Mountains, about fifteen miles outside the city.
    â€œThis is more like a footpath than a road,”George observed as Nancy slowed the car to negotiate the overgrown trail. Carefully, she steered around a large rock, then gasped as the front wheel sank into a small ditch.
    â€œKeep going,” Alain said. “The car will pull through.”
    Nancy rode the car out of the ditch. Darkness was falling fast. She peered out through the windshield.
    â€œDoes anyone really live up here?” she asked. “I don’t see a single house. Who could deal with this road every day?”
    â€œThe road isn’t a problem for a pickup truck,” Alain pointed out, “which is what Hank normally drives. Keep going. He’s farther into the mountains.”
    â€œHave you actually been to this place?” George asked, frowning.
    â€œI drove up here one day last week,” Alain said. “I just walked around the outside of the place.” He gave Nancy a wry glance. “Unlike some people, I’m not fond of breaking and entering.”
    â€œIt was necessary,” Nancy said evenly. “Anyway, I didn’t break in—the window was open. And I found proof that Hank was at the falls the day Kim Foster disappeared. I think he kidnapped her because she knew he was sabotaging the spa.”
    â€œYou may be right,” Alain said quietly. “I had suspicions about that myself, becauseHank mysteriously had to go into town that day. I just hope we’re not too late now.”
    Nancy winced as the car dipped down into another deep rut and rumbled out. The road bent sharply to the right and seemed to narrow even more.
    â€œThere!” Alain said suddenly.
    Nancy hit the brakes. “Where?” she asked, peering out into the darkness. “I don’t see a thing, except lots of cacti.”
    â€œTurn the lights off,” Alain said. “Unless you want Hank to see you. Actually, maybe we’d better walk the rest of the way. If he’s there, he’d hear the car. Pull off the road.”
    â€œWhat road?” Nancy muttered, but she did as Alain had asked. “Are you sure there’s a house up here?” she asked.
    â€œIt’s about a quarter of a mile past where the road bends to the right,” Alain said, getting out of the station wagon.
    Nancy and George followed Alain as he made his way through high grasses and prickly pear cacti. I sure hope we can trust this guy, Nancy thought with a shiver. Because if Alain wasn’t