“It sure is,” Nancy agreed. She gazed out the window of the van as it headed north through the rugged foothills of Tucson's Santa Catalina Mountains. Here and there, Nancy glimpsed a horse ranch or an adobe house nestled in the hills. But most of what she'd seen for the past hour was an amazing variety of cacti and trees under wide blue Arizona skies.

The driver of the van, a weathered-looking man named Hank Meader, rattled off a bewildering list of different types of cactus. “That's a prickly pear,” he said, pointing to a cactus that grew in round, flat shapes. “The tall ones over there with the curving arms are saguaro, and then there's cholla and ocotillo andÂ .Â .Â .Â ”

Nancy wasn't sure she could keep them all straight, but from other trips she'd taken to the Southwest, she recognized the cottonwood trees and the groves of mesquite.

“I never expected the Sonoran Desert to be so green,” Bess said.

“Green, shmeen,” said the heavyset middle-aged woman sitting next to Nancy. “Who cares about the scenery? I'm here to lose weight. And to get a beauty makeover, of course. I've been saving all year for this trip.”

Nancy smiled and held out her hand. “My name is Nancy Drew. And these are my friends.” She gestured to the two girls in the seat ahead of her. Bess had wavy, straw-colored hair, and George had dark hair cut short.

Bess turned around and held out her hand. “I'm Bess Marvin, and this is my cousin, George Fayne.” George turned and smiled at the older woman.

“Rhonda Wilkins,” the woman said. “You all seem so young.” She frowned slightly. “Why are you going to a spa?”

“I need to lose five pounds,” Bess explained cheerfully. “Besides, I won a week's stay for two. Only I couldn't decide which friend to take, so Nancy and George are chipping in for the cost of the third person.”

“You lucky thing,” Rhonda said enviously. “How did you ever win a prize like that?”

“Bess sold the most Solaire health and beauty products in the Midwest,” George explained.

“I've been selling all fall and winter,” Bess said proudly. “Fortunately, Solaire makes great stuff, so everything sold really quickly.”

“I wouldn't go a day without their moisturizers,” Rhonda agreed. “They're simply the best.”

“If you can afford them,” put in the attractive, dark-haired woman sitting on the other side of Rhonda. She'd been on the same connecting flight into Tucson as Nancy, George, and Bess, and had introduced herself as Melina Michaels. With her slim figure, elegant jewelry, and effortlessly chic clothing, Melina Michaels looked like the sort of person who could afford just about anything. In fact, Nancy noted, most of the men and women in the private van looked wealthy, which wasn't surprising. Spa Solaire was one of the most exclusive spas in the country, offering a complete health and fitness program in a beautiful desert setting.

Ahead, Nancy could see two tall wooden posts with a wooden sign hanging between them. Spa Solaire, the sign said, for Total Health and Relaxation.

Bess gave a luxurious sigh. “I feel relaxed already.”

“Not too long ago, this area was all ranch
land,” Hank said as he drove beneath the sign. “Until last year, when Jacqueline and Laurent Rozier bought the place and turned it into a spa, this was a guest ranch. Spa Solaire has a hundred acres hereâcomplete with hiking trails, riding stables, pools, gyms, tennis courts, mineral baths, and the finest health facilities in the country.”

“Sounds as if he's memorized that speech,” George whispered.

“Probably,” Nancy agreed. Hank, whose graying hair made her think he was in his late fifties, looked every inch the genuine cowboy. Nancy wondered briefly why Hank was driving the spa's van. He looked as if he'd rather be riding horses.

It's really none of your business, she chided herself. But for eighteen-year-old Nancy, who was a well-known detective, curiosity about people was second nature.

Hank pointed out the small adobe cottages, called casitas, where the guests would stay, and the new complex of Spanish-style buildings that housed the office, dining hall, and the various gyms and treatment rooms. Walkways edged in tile connected the buildings. Through adobe arches, Nancy could see courtyards with fountains and stone benches and unglazed clay pots filled with bright, colorful flowers.

“It's beautiful,” George said, “but isn't it
kind of strange for a French spa to look like something out of colonial Spain?”

“The Roziers believe in designing their spa according to the style of the area,” Bess said, who'd read all of the Solaire brochures. “This is southwestern style.”

The van pulled to a halt in a parking area alongside the building marked Office. Nancy and the other passengers got out and found that they weren't the only new arrivals. A woman in a white knit suit was emerging from a black stretch limousine, her diamond rings flashing in the sunlight. Two well-dressed middle-aged couples were unloading suitcases from their rental cars, and a slightly overweight girl who looked about Nancy's age stalked out of a chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce without a backward glance at her chauffeur.

“Lifestyles of the rich and obnoxious,” George whispered.

“Not necessarily,” Bess began. Then her mouth dropped open as a slim, stunning woman with high cheekbones and silver-blond hair stepped forward to greet them. “It's her,” Bess whispered. “Jacqueline Rozier. She was a top model in Paris for years before she and her husband started running spas. She's even more beautiful than her photographs.”

“Bienvenue
. Welcome to Spa Solaire,” said Jacqueline, leading everyone to a shaded
courtyard where a small group of staff members, each holding a clipboard, stood ready to greet them. “I am Jacqueline Rozier, and this”âshe indicated a dark-haired, handsome manâ“is my husband, Laurent. Just to let you know, Laurent has recently received word that our new line of skin products is ready for distribution, so we will have a celebration to launch the new line at the end of this week. We hope you all will join us.”

Jacqueline looked around and smiled at everyone. “Isn't that exciting?” she said. Nancy noticed Melina Michaels's eyes narrow, as if she were disappointed by this information.

Jacqueline then went on to introduce the other staff members. “Some of you have already met Hank, who runs our stables and drives the van. Beside him is Marie Cormier, who prepares our unique herbal wraps, and next to her, Alain Giraud, one of our personal trainers. And this”âJacqueline nodded to a young woman dressed in shorts and a Solaire T-shirtâ“is Kim Foster, our nature expert. They will now take you to your casitas, where you may want to relax and change before your personal fitness evaluation. Here at Solaire, we tailor our program to the individual. Each of you will meet with an expert who will determine the diet and exercise program that is best for you.”

Nancy waited while the staff members read
off lists of names from the clipboards. She, Bess, and George were soon following Kim Foster along one of the walkways.

Bess glanced at Kim's T-shirt and shorts and stopped to take off the coat she was wearing. “Is it always this hot in the beginning of April?” she asked. “It was about thirty degrees when we left River Heights this morning.”

“In Tucson our spring usually starts in February,” Kim explained. “It's been in the eighties for weeks now, and all the wildflowers are in bloom. You're here for one of the most beautiful times of the year.”

“Which casita is ours?” George asked as they continued walking away from the main complex.

Kim waved ahead of her. “Yours is the farthest away, closest to the mountains. That means you may have to give yourself an extra five minutes to get to your activities in time.” She turned to Nancy with a smile. “Now it's your turn to ask a question.”

“All right,” Nancy said. “Why is a nature expert leading us to our room?”

Kim laughed. “Well, if you're on staff at Solaire, you get scheduled for two different kinds of assignments. The first is in your specialty, which for me means leading hikes and giving nature talks. Then there are a few hours each week when we all do more general stuff around the spaâpitching in wherever we're
needed. Your greeting committee was made up of the staff members who didn't have a scheduled workshop or class going on when the van arrived.”

As they reached the farthest casita and Kim began fumbling with the keys from her key ring, Nancy peered through the window. She saw three neatly made beds, a wooden chest of drawers and desk, and a round painted table with three chairs.

“This is great!” Bess said, looking over Nancy's shoulder. “The room looks really cozy, and there's even a basket of fruit on the table.”

“That's Solaire's way of saying welcome,” Kim explained as she opened the door and handed each girl a key. She brushed back a strand of dark hair that had come loose from her ponytail and consulted her watch and clipboard. “Let's see. It's almost three o'clock now, and you've all got four-thirty appointments with Dr. Benay, who's our doctor and nutritionist. That'll be in the west wing of the main building.”

“Why are we seeing a doctor?” George asked. “I'm perfectly healthy.”

Kim nodded. “I'm sure you are, but everyone here checks in with the doctor first to get the right recommendations for diet and exercise. The Roziers are very careful about their clients.” She looked at George carefully. “You seem like the tennis type.”

“I am,” George admitted. “I can't wait to get onto those courts.”

“I'm the dieting type,” Bess volunteered. “I'm here for a complete beauty makeover. And Nancy here is a detective. She just got through cracking one of the toughest cases in River Heights. The police couldn't evenâ”

“Bess!” Nancy exclaimed, feeling her cheeks flush. Sometimes Bess was a little too loyal.

“Really?” Kim said. “You're a detective?”

“Well, Iâ” Nancy began. She stopped as she saw Kim's expression change from friendly interest to something she couldn't define. Nancy followed Kim's gaze toward the mountains but saw nothing other than a few guests walking along the grounds.

Kim glanced at her watch. “I'd better go,” she said quickly. “I'm supposed to give a talk on desert wildlife. See you around.”

The girls said goodbye and entered the casita. A vase of fresh flowers stood on top of the dresser. The beds were covered with lace pillows and bright, handwoven Mexican blankets. In the corner was an adobe fireplace and a stack of firewood. A pair of candlesticks stood on a bookshelf. And from the window over the table the girls had a spectacular view of the Catalina Mountains.

“This is perfect,” Bess said, flinging her purse onto one of the beds.

George hung her denim jacket in the closet.
“Not a bad place to spend a week. All I want to do is play tennis and swim and then play some more tennis.”

“I want some fruit,” Bess declared, eyeing the fruit basket. She shook her head ruefully. “I'm not even here an hour and already I'm starved.”

She walked over to the fruit basket and selected a large orange. “Hey, what's this?” she said, taking a small wooden box from the basket. “Here, Nance.” Bess tossed the box to Nancy and began to peel the orange. “You open it.”

Nancy lifted the lid on the box and dropped it with a muffled scream.

“What is it?” George asked, running over.

“Aâa spider,” Nancy stammered, her heart racing.

“It's a lot smaller than you are,” George pointed out with a shrug. “What's the big deal?”

“It's a black widow,” Nancy told her.

“Are you sure?” George asked.

Nancy nodded as she glanced down at the poisonous spider. It was definitely a black widow, edging over the lip of the box.

At the bottom of the box was a note, written in a delicate, elegant script.
Bienvenue
, it read. Welcome to Spa Solaire.