Hot Tracks (5 page)

Beside Nancy, Bess slowly let out the breath she must have been holding the whole time. “I'm okay, too. If I can get my heart to stop pounding like a drum, that is.”

Nancy jumped as someone rapped on her windshield. A man's face was pressed close to the glass. He had scraggly blond hair and was unshaven.

As he bent down to reach her window, he asked, “Are you all right?” The man was over
six feet tall and burly, with arm muscles that bulged out of his T-shirt sleeves. There was an unreadable expression in his eyes.

Nancy nodded. “Fine. I'm not so sure about my car, though. That was quite a jolt.”

“Well, you better back it up and get it out of here. We've got work to finish up,” the guy said gruffly. Then he stepped away.

Nancy didn't know if he was threatening her or simply being brusque, but she didn't want to find out. She was about to do as the man asked when Dirk leaned forward and called out her window, “Not until I check the car.” In a lower voice, he added, “You don't want to drive off if something's wrong.”

“We might not have any choice,” Bess said nervously. Several other guys had appeared on the loading dock. “Let's get out of here, Nan.”

“Dirk's right. It could be dangerous to drive,” Nancy told Bess. Turning off the ignition, she got out of the car, Dirk right behind her.

“Sorry about the boxes,” Nancy said to the men on the loading dock, gesturing toward the cardboard cubes that were scattered everywhere.

The blond man watched Nancy with steely gray eyes. “It's a good thing for you they were empty.”

“You knocked your front end out of alignment,” Dirk called from the right side of the car, where he was kneeling.

Going over to him, Nancy saw that the right
front tire was scuffed and the rim of the wheel was bent. “You can still drive it, but get it to your mechanic as soon as possible,” Dirk said, straightening up.

“Thanks for checking,” Nancy told him. The burly blond man was right behind them, his arms crossed over his chest. The other men were already restacking the cardboard boxes.

Nancy tried to ignore his intimidating stare. “Did you happen to notice that carrier's license plate number?” she asked him.

He shook his head. “Nope.”

“Then how about the company that owns the carrier? Is the driver someone you know?” Nancy persisted.

“Don't know that, either.” The blond man turned and began helping the others stack boxes. “But I know one thing,” he tossed over his shoulder. “If I were you I'd get out of here. This isn't the kind of place young folks should be hanging around.” As if to emphasize his words, he took a knife from his pocket, plunged it into one of the boxes, and ripped it in two.

Dirk took Nancy's elbow and firmly propelled her to the driver's side of the Mustang. “Uh, thanks again,” Nancy called while Dirk climbed into the back seat. She then slid into the front.

“Hurry up,” Bess whispered, nervously peering out the window at the men on the loading dock.

Nancy started the car, but looked at the
building in front of them carefully before pulling away. “There's no sign on this warehouse. I wonder who owns it. I hate leaving without finding out anything.”

“Oh, we found out plenty,” Bess said as Nancy backed down the ramp. “Like not to come here during the day.”

“I'm pretty sure that that car carrier's trying to run us down was no accident,” Nancy said, steering her Mustang onto the main road.

“What are you talking about?” Dirk asked.

Nancy looked at him in the rearview mirror. “That driver could have stopped. He had to have seen us. And those guys on the loading dock sure acted as if they were hiding something.” She tapped the steering wheel. “Which proves there's a chop shop somewhere on this street. Maybe right where we crashed, or in the building where the carrier was parked.”

“I don't know,” Dirk said, shaking his head. “You'd think the thieves would have brains enough to play it cool. I mean, trying to run us over was like waving a sign that said, Chop Shop in Here.”

Bess laughed. “You're right. Hey, are you guys hungry? I was so nervous back there, I must have burned off a zillion calories. Let's eat.”

They stopped at a pizzeria downtown. Bess and Dirk kept up a steady stream of talk while they ate, but Nancy hardly spoke. She was glad Bess and Dirk were hitting it off, but something
about their encounter at the warehouse was still bothering her.

Someone had to have warned the guy driving the carrier that they were coming. Only one person that she could think of knew that they were headed there, and that person was Dirk. After Bess called him, he could easily have phoned his contacts at the chop shop—if it
was
him. Nancy couldn't figure out why he would have stayed in the car, though.

“Hey. Can you guys drop me off at Harry's Garage?” Dirk asked as they left the pizzeria. “I need to pick up some parts. My brother works there, so he can give me a ride home.”

“Sure,” Nancy agreed. The garage was just a few blocks away. When they got there, Dirk climbed out on Bess's side. After he'd shut the door, he leaned his arms on her open window.

“Thanks for the wild ride, Nancy,” he said, his green eyes twinkling. “I guess I'll see you girls tomorrow at the track?”

Bess grinned at him. “You got it.”

As Nancy drove away, Bess turned to her with dreamy, glassy eyes. “Wow. What a guy,” she said. “Aren't you glad we invited him?”

“Yeah. I like Dirk, too,” Nancy agreed. Taking a deep breath, she added, “That's what makes this hard to bring up.”

Bess straightened up in her seat and questioned Nancy, “What are you talking about?”

“Somebody tipped off that guy in the carrier that we were coming,” Nancy said quietly.

“But who? Nobody knew except—” Bess's face blanched white. “No. No way,” she protested. “Dirk in cahoots with car thieves?”

“It makes sense. He's an expert driver, and he knows cars. Guys who race cars always need parts.”

Bess shook her head. “I still don't believe Dirk would work with criminals just to get parts. I mean, you don't have any proof.”

“That is what we need,” Nancy agreed. “Proof. We need to catch someone stealing a car and follow him to the right warehouse. Then the police will have everything they need to move in.”

“Oh, right. As if some thief is going to let us hang around while he steals a car,” Bess said, rolling her eyes.

Nancy grinned at Bess. “Actually, that's exactly what I have in mind,” she said. “Only the thief won't know we're there.”

• • •

At nine o'clock that night, Nancy picked Bess up at her house.

Before Bess got into the car, she gestured to her clothes. “What do you think, Nan? Black shirt, black pants, black socks and shoes—the height of fashion,” she joked.

“It is if you're tracking down car thieves,” said Nancy, laughing. She, too, was dressed all in black, and she wore a dark ski cap to cover her reddish blond hair.

“I thought Dirk said you shouldn't be driving
your car,” Bess said as Nancy headed the Mustang toward the riverfront area.

Nancy patted the dashboard. “It's going into the shop tomorrow. Alignment isn't a terrible problem, so we're safe for now. I'm not sure how we're going to get around after this, though.”

“Don't worry about that,” Bess said. “The insurance company's paying for a rental car that I can drive for thirty days—or until we recover the Camaro,” she added confidently. “My dad picked it up after work tonight, but he had to go to a meeting so I haven't seen it yet. For once I'll get to chauffeur
you
around.”

Ten minutes later the girls were driving down the winding road that went from the highway to the riverfront.

“What now?” Bess asked. “How do you know where the car thieves are going to hit?”

“We have to think like one,” Nancy replied. “Officer Jackson said two cars were stolen from the main parking lot of the riverfront renovation. Then your Camaro was taken from the restaurant lot. The way I figure it, that leaves the lot at the nightclub, the Scene. I bet it's crowded on a Thursday night, too.”

Bess nodded. “So we're going to stake out the Scene's parking lot?”

“Right.” Nancy drove past the nightclub, which was perched next to the Riverside on a cliff overlooking the river. The parking lot was across the street from it.

“Officer Jackson was right when she said the lots here aren't well lit,” Bess commented as Nancy pulled her car into the lot. There was only one streetlight at the entrance. Most of the cars were just black silhouettes in the darkness.

“Tonight that will be in our favor,” Nancy reminded Bess.

Nancy found a spot next to a sedan in the middle of the lot. “If we hunch down between my car and the sedan, we should be able to see anyone coming or going. We'll leave the door propped open in case we need to make a quick getaway.”

The overhead light winked on as Bess opened her door to get out. She giggled and reached up to remove the plastic cover and unscrew the bulb. “Better take this out. Nothing like advertising that we're here.”

The two girls sat on the gravel next to the Mustang. Nancy kept a look out by the rear fender, which faced the back part of the lot and a dark side street. Bess's spot by the front tire gave her a good view of the entrance to the Scene.

For two hours they watched as laughing couples and groups parked their cars and went into the nightclub. Nancy was beginning to wonder if they were wasting their time when Bess said in a low voice, “Hey, look.”

Nancy joined Bess at the front of the car in time to see a man and woman leaving the nightclub. The woman was laughing and holding
on to the man's arm. When the woman passed under the single streetlight, Nancy recognized Kitty Lambert's long, brown hair.

“She sure seems to get around,” Bess whispered.

“The guy looks familiar, too,” Nancy whispered back.

“He looks like Dirk!” Bess said angrily.

“It's not him, though. He's too tall,” Nancy cut in. “I bet it's Dirk's brother. Dirk said something about Kitty having a thing for his older brother, remember?”

“Here they come.” Bess and Nancy huddled close to the Mustang as Kitty and her date turned down the row opposite the Mustang and stopped at a shiny new Firebird. A few minutes later the car pulled out.

A police car cruised past soon after that. “That's the second police car we've seen,” Nancy mentioned. “They probably patrol every hour.”

She moved back to the rear end of the car, so she could keep an eye on the rear of the lot. It was the darkest area. A thief could sneak into the lot, hot-wire a car, and drive it onto the side street and out of sight before anyone saw him.

“How much longer?” Bess whispered twenty minutes later. “My back has a cramp in it, and my right leg's asleep. I may never walk again.”

“We can't give up now,” Nancy said quietly. “Besides, if we don't stick it out tonight, we'll just have to do this again tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow!” Bess groaned. “I hope—”

“Shhh.” Nancy held a finger to her lips. Was that the crunch of gravel she'd heard?

The two girls fell silent, but there was no sound. Then very faintly Nancy heard it again.
Crunch. Crunch.
Someone was creeping into the lot, very slowly, trying not to make a sound.

Nancy peered around the rear fender of the Mustang. Silhouetted against the night sky was a tall figure wearing a baseball cap and a long coat. It was much too warm to have on a coat.

Nancy put her finger to her lips and gestured for Bess to stay put. The figure was too tall and broad shouldered to be a woman, Nancy decided. She watched him stealthily make his way to a red sports car two rows down from the Mustang.

The person stopped at the driver's window of the sports car. After glancing around, he reached under his coat and pulled out a flat metal rod. It was a slim jim, a tool used to break the lock of a car, Nancy realized.

They'd found their thief! Now they just had to follow him and his stolen car to the right warehouse, call the police, and bingo! The auto theft ring would be out of commission.

Nancy silently gestured for Bess to slip into the car.

Nodding, Bess started to creep toward the open door. Suddenly she stumbled and pitched face first into the gravel. With a muffled
cry, she threw her arms out to catch herself.

Nancy whirled her head around to check on the thief. She hoped he hadn't heard!

Her heart sank when she saw that the figure had paused and was turned in her direction now. He tucked the slim jim under his coat, then took off for the side street.

“Bess, call the police!” Nancy hissed over her shoulder as she started after the guy. Keeping low, she jogged down the aisle until she was even with him. She tried to get a look at him, but a row of cars was between them, and in the dark she couldn't make out his face.

Suddenly he began to run. He must have heard her! Sprinting, Nancy raced through the row of cars that separated them and grabbed at the flying tails of his coat. The person whipped around, and something metal fell to the gravel with a clang.

Before Nancy could get a better grip on him, blinding car lights from the side street flashed in her face.

“Police! Freeze!” commanded an amplified voice.

Nancy froze, but the thief took off. Nancy saw a red ponytail escape from under his baseball cap before he disappeared down the side street.

“Stop him! He tried to steal a car,” Nancy yelled, pointing after the fleeing figure. Someone
burst from the police cruiser and ran after the thief.

The next thing Nancy knew, someone had grabbed her arms, twisted them behind her, and snapped on handcuffs.