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the door was open. Ned went in to check it out. Then he sent me down to get you.”
    Sally met Nancy’s eyes. “Nancy—what if some kidnapper is after Gina? She’s my best friend, you know. I’m so scared for her!”
    â€œThen you’re lucky Ned’s around. He’ll protect you,” Nancy said reassuringly.
    When they reached the room, Gina was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking visibly shaken. Ned sat on the bed beside her, one arm around her shoulders. When Nancy walked in, he threw her an apologetic glance. Seeing Gina’s state, Nancy nodded her okay.
    But, she thought to herself, Gina was awfully cool about last night’s break-in. Why is she so upset this time? To get attention from Ned?
    Examining the door, Nancy saw no sign of forced entry. But she thought that the room was much less a mess than it had been the night before. Had the thief found what he was looking for this time?
    Then, on a hunch, Nancy went into the hall to look for Rosita Ortiz. She found her in the nearest supply closet, sitting with her head in her hands. As Rosita raised her frightened face, Nancy saw she had been crying.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” Nancy asked her.
    â€œOh, miss, it’s you!” Rosita cried. “I didn’t know where you were, but I had to tell you—I can’t find my passkey!”

Chapter

Five
    Y OUR PASSKEY IS MISSING ?” Nancy asked Rosita, trying to sound calm. “When was the last time you had it?”
    â€œHalf an hour ago,” Rosita said in a quivering voice. “A guest asked me to open his room. He said he left his card inside. In training they tell us never to use a passkey for a guest. We must say to go ask the front desk. But he was very nice.”
    Nancy drew a careful breath. “This man—what did he look like?”
    Rosita looked scared. “He was not wearing a suit, just a shirt and pants,” she said, struggling to remember. “Brown hair. American. Very tall.”
    Tall, Nancy thought. Like Nick Kessler? “Was it room 707?” she asked.
    â€œOh, no,” Rosita declared. “After what happened yesterday, I would not open that door.”
    â€œYou just let him in and left?” Nancy asked.
    Rosita shook her head. “He needed me to help fix a closet door,” she said. “It had come off the track. He and I both bent down to fix it. Maybe my key fell off then.” She showed Nancy an empty key clip hooked to her belt. “I went back, but when I knocked, he was not there. So I looked here for my key.” Rosita waved her hand, indicating the shelves of the supply closet. The sheets and towels were in disarray from her frantic search.
    Nancy tried to imagine the scene in the man’s room—two people bent down near the sliding doors of the closet, probably close together. It would have been easy for the man to slip the key off Rosita’s key clip.
    Nancy asked Rosita to show her which room the man had been in. She knew that it might not have been his real room—maybe he had asked Rosita to open any room, as a ruse to steal her passkey. But Nancy wanted to explore every possible lead.
    Rosita and Nancy left the supply closet and wandered down the hall. Reaching the end, Rosita became flustered. “Maybe it was here,” she said, stopping at room 724. Nancy knocked. No answer. “No, I think it was this one,” Rosita continued, changing her mind. She went to room 726. “But . . . they all look the same,” she said with a helpless shrug.
    Disappointed, Nancy pulled a small notebook out of her purse. “Here’s my name and room number,” she said, writing them down and tearing out the page for Rosita. “If you see that man again, please call.”
    â€œI will,” Rosita promised. “But please, miss, don’t tell Mr. Wasilick I have lost my key!”
    â€œI think you’d better report it,” Nancy