Troubled Waters (Nancy Drew (All New) Girl Detective Book 23) by Carolyn Keene

while. When he straightened up, he said, “Well, I don’t regret it. Otis is like family to Mr. Fillmore. If sneaking around was the only way to find him, I think it was the right thing to do.”
    “Anyway, we weren’t the only ones who ignored the police barriers,” Tanya added. “Just last night we saw—”
    “You came here last night?” I said, taken aback. “But we saw you at Deirdre’s party.”
    “Can’t a girl have fun and do a good deed in one night?” Tanya said, grinning at George and me. “I met Brad afterward, and we drove down here. We almost had a heart attack when we saw J.C. Valdez walking around.”
    “J.C. Valdez?” George asked. She leaned against the side of Tanya’s car, raising an eyebrow. “But didn’t he tell Deirdre he had to leave the party early because he was going to see his parents in Woodburn?” she said.
    “Definitely,” I said, nodding. “That’s an hour away from here, so he couldn’t have been in both places.”
    “All I know is that Tanya and I saw him right over there,” Brad said. He pointed through the piles of debris and branches to a house that stood even closer to the river.
    “I wonder why he lied?” I murmured.
    “Who knows,” Brad said with a shrug. “Like you said, anyone who’s breaking the law to come here wouldn’t exactly advertise what they’re doing.”
    “But why would he come here?” I said, thinking out loud.
    Moving away from Tanya’s car, I picked my way carefully along the muddy road toward the house. I shivered at the sight of a couple of rats scampering over the rubble of a collapsed house. Just beyond was the house Brad had pointed at. I heard Tanya’s engine start, and a moment later George came up next to me.
    “Brad and Tanya are taking Otis to the animal shelter,” she said, trying not to slip on the mud. “They’ll get him some food and water, and then they’ll reintroduce him to Mr. Fillmore.”
    “Great,” I said, still scanning the area.
    I stopped next to an old wooden house that was covered with slime up to its second-story windows. Miraculously, the gabled roof and wood siding had remained intact. Even the elaborate wooden trim of the porch had survived. Not that the place looked like any sort of showcase at the moment. Trash bins lay overturned and filled with foul-smelling water. Slime-covered lawn chairs and tables were wedged against the house at odd angles. The sour stench of mold and mud made me gag.
    “Maybe this is J.C.’s parents’ house,” I said. “Didn’t J.C. tell us the house has been in his mother’s family for generations?”
    George nodded, gazing at the muddy walls and debris. “This place does look pretty old. It’s even got one of those signs that tells about the history of the house,” she said.
    She pointed at a muddy wooden plaque nailed to the clapboards next to the front door. Taking a few steps closer, I peered at it. The plaque was half covered with mud, but I could still make out the words.
    “George!” I breathed out. “This is the Bernard Tilden House!”

14
Race to the Stolen Money
    Y ou’re kidding!” George said, gaping at the house.
    As I moved across the mud-coated walk toward the front porch, I saw skid marks in the smelly slime where someone else had walked. “It looks like J.C. went into the house. I wonder what—”
    “Careful, Nan!” George said.
    I had just put my foot on the steps leading up to the porch. The moldy, mud-covered board gave way with a sickening crunch. My foot slid out from under me, and I fell to the ground with a squishy thump. “Eeew!” I shivered, scrambling up from the slime as fast as I could.
    “Look, maybe J.C. was crazy enough to go in there, but I don’t think we should,” George cautioned.
    I gazed up at the building, rubbing my handsagainst my jeans to get the mud off. “It looks solid enough,” I murmured. But when I grabbed the railing, the whole porch shifted with a creaky groan that made me jump back.
    “We’d