“We don’t know very much when you come right down to it,” Arden reminded her. “If a real detective questioned us, there’s very little we could tell him.”
“How long will it take that Serge Uzlov to get down?” Sim asked of no one in particular. “I wish he’d take a plane.”
“There’s no place here at Marshlands for a plane to alight,” Terry answered. “Unless he took a seaplane and landed on the bay. Think what excitement that would cause!”
“I suppose so,” Sim admitted as they turned in the driveway. “We’ll just have to wait. I won’t have a fingernail left by evening. I chewed them nearly all off waiting for that phone call.”
Terry whistled for her mother. At the sound of that shrill call, Mrs. Landry, try as she did to appear rather uninterested in the whole baffling case, came out of the house quickly and listened with great interest to the story of the message.
“And, Mother,” Terry finished, “as we left the store we met Melissa coming in, and she was wearing a tie pin of Dimitri’s. What do you think of that?”
“Did you say anything about it?” Mrs. Landry asked.
“We didn’t let her know we recognized it, and she said she found it on the beach,” Terry answered.
“Perhaps she did. Surely you don’t think Melissa had anything to do with all this?” Mrs. Landry questioned.
“That’s just it. We don’t know who had anything to do with it,” Terry moaned.