A Date with Deception (7 page)

“And you must be Susan Wexler,” Nancy said with a laugh.

“Right,” Susan said, stepping aside to let the three Soviets go in. “Come on. Let's find a table and talk about Jetstream.”

At the word
Jetstream,
both Dmitri and Sasha turned and stared at the two young women. For a second Nancy was afraid Sasha would try to join them. She breathed a sigh of relief when he grabbed Marina's hand and pulled her onto the dance floor again.

Spotting George and Gary, Nancy waved them over and soon the four of them were seated around a table, discussing Jetstream. Gary agreed to do an interview with Susan the next morning, on the condition that it wouldn't be published for a week. He was
counting on Nancy's solving the case, and his story being scrapped for something bigger. Susan wasn't happy with this arrangement, but she agreed to it.

“I can't get a straight story out of
anyone.
None of the brass at Jetstar will talk to me, either,” she complained. “They've always been secretive, but now it's ridiculous. I'm sure something's going on.”

The band started a loud number, and Nancy almost had to shout. “Your article said Aviane wouldn't reveal its plans,” she said. “But did they tell you anything ‘off the record' that you can't print?”

Taking a sip of soda, Susan nodded. “Something about the engines. That's all they'd say. It's not much to go on. You know what I think? They were bluffing. I got the impression that it wasn't all going as smoothly as Aviane would like us to think. I don't believe they have all the bugs worked out of the system yet.”

Nancy didn't respond, but she did feel a little glow of excitement. Susan and she were thinking along the same lines. That meant she might be on to something!

Engines, she mused. It could be in the design, which would be Bill Fairgate's territory. Or the engineering. Eileen Martin would know about that.

“Listen,” Susan said, “you told me you're a detective. You're not asking these questions just because you're curious, right?”

“Right,” Nancy admitted, glancing at Gary and George. “I think something fishy's going on, too. But I'm afraid I can't tell you any more.”

“How about this?” asked Susan. “I'll keep bugging Jetstream to tell me what's going on. Maybe my editor will even let me do another story, just to keep them on their toes. I'll share anything I find out with you. If you learn anything, you tell me first.”

“It's a deal,” Nancy said with a grin.

Susan left a few minutes later, and Gary turned to Nancy. “I hope she never gets around to publishing my story,” he said. “When Jetstream fired me, they said they'd keep the whole thing quiet as long as they got their plane out before Aviane did.” He shook his head. “I'd really hate for my parents to read about this. I haven't told them yet.”

“Maybe you won't have to,” Nancy told him. She pulled the warning note out of her pocket and showed it to her friends. “I found this on my car a little while ago,” she said. “I don't know who wrote it, but I'll find out. And when I do, you'll be cleared, Gary.”

Gary looked relieved, but George frowned. “Whoever wrote this had to know you'd be here tonight,” she said. “I guess that lets Bill Fairgate off the hook.”

Nancy shook her head. “Not if he's working with somebody else. I don't think all the plans have been leaked yet. I'm not saying it's Bill
Fairgate, but whoever it is could be leaking them to a go-between.”

“So what do we do now?” George asked.

“I need to know more about those Jetstar plans,” Nancy said. “They're the key to what's being leaked.” Suddenly she stood up. “You guys dance some more,” she told them. “I'm going for a drive. This band is great, but I need quiet to think tonight. If I'm not back when you're ready to leave, make sure Bess gets a ride home.”

Grabbing a handful of pretzels, Nancy left the Lobster Tank and got into her car. The Jetstream complex was probably locked up like a fort, and she knew she couldn't get in that night. Every fort had a weak spot, though, and Nancy was determined to find Jetstream's.

The jet manufacturing company was about a fifteen-minute drive from the Lobster Tank. Nancy cruised slowly by the front gate, which was lit by so many floodlights it looked as if it were noon instead of ten o'clock at night. Nancy didn't see a guard as she drove by, but she was sure one had to be around somewhere.

She kept on driving until she came to a place where she could safely pull off the road. Across from her was the fenced-in Jetstream complex. There were lights dotted along the fence, but they were spaced far enough apart so that there were long patches of darkness.

Wishing she wasn't wearing white, Nancy got out of the car and crossed the road to the
fence. It was high, but it was chain link. Easy to climb, she thought. She was tempted, but she decided not to risk it. Not only did she have to get inside the grounds, she would have to get into the building, and even if she found a way, she wasn't going to do it right then.

Keeping an eye on the building, Nancy moved on down the fence. After a couple of minutes she spotted an entrance into the building. There was a single light above it, but the door itself was in shadow at the bottom of a couple of steps. Perfect, Nancy thought. There was probably an alarm, though. There were probably alarms all over the place.

She'd have to ask Gary. They tested planes at night, and he must have been there then. He might know something about the security system.

Satisfied that she'd at least found a door that wasn't lit up like a Christmas tree, Nancy started back to her car.

She was about halfway there when she heard it: a thumping, slapping sound behind her in the dirt. It was just a few feet away and coming closer.

Then Nancy heard the breathing, and by the time she figured out what it was, it was too late. A dog burst out of the darkness into a circle of light, stopping just two feet from her. Its lips were drawn back in a vicious snarl, and its dark, sleek body was quivering with tension. It was ready to spring!

N
ANCY STOPPED MOVING
. The dog, sensing no immediate danger, checked itself and didn't spring, but the deep rumbling in its chest got louder and louder until the dog burst out in a series of wild, angry barks. Each time it barked, the dog lifted its front feet off the ground, but it didn't go any closer.

Nancy remained perfectly still. She was almost afraid to breathe for fear the dog might decide it was a threatening action. The warning note flashed through her mind—“Curious detectives do not die of old age.” Whoever had written it just might turn out to be right.

The wind picked up and whipped a loose
strand of hair across Nancy's eyes. Without thinking, she reached up to brush it away. The dog tensed again, and Nancy was sure it was going to attack when suddenly a man shouted, “Gina! Hold!”

The barking stopped immediately. A man wearing a guard's uniform walked up to the dog and patted it on the head. He kept his eyes on Nancy, and so did the dog.

“What are you doing here, miss?”

“I—”

“You couldn't be lost,” he interrupted. “There's no place around here for you to be going to.”

Nancy decided not to say anything to that.

“Come with me, please,” he said. Snapping a leash on the dog's collar, he took Nancy's arm and the three of them started off.

“Look, I admit I was walking around the fence,” Nancy said. “But I didn't go inside the fence and I haven't done anything wrong. I left my car off the road—back there. Why don't you just take me to it and I'll leave?”

“Can't let you do that yet,” the guard said. “I have to check with the other guards to make sure security hasn't been breached. I left the walkie-talkie in my booth when I came to get Gina. It won't take long,
If
everything's okay,” he added.

Nancy knew she hadn't breached security. She just hoped nobody else had, or she'd be in big trouble.

After a minute or two of walking, they came to another gate, near the complex's floodlit parking lot. The guard unlocked the gate and motioned Nancy inside. They walked past the parking lot to what looked like a tollbooth. The guard stepped inside the booth and got busy on his walkie-talkie.

Nancy watched the guard, and Gina watched Nancy. Don't get your hopes up, Nancy told the dog silently. You'll have to settle for a biscuit for dessert tonight.

After a few minutes the guard came out. “Looks like it's your lucky night,” he said. “You're off the hook. I'll take you back to your car.”

He took hold of the dog's leash again and they walked across the center of the complex toward the main gate. There were lights around the airplane sculpture Nancy and George had seen earlier. As they got up to it, Nancy saw words inscribed on its base. Slowing her steps, she was able to read them.

To the Memory of David Martin, Test Pilot, the inscription read. Died in Service to Jetstream. We Salute His Courage.

Below those words were the dates of David Martin's birth and death. He'd died two years before.

“Excuse me,” Nancy said as they walked on. “That memorial to David Martin. Was he Eileen Martin's son?”

“That's right,” the guard said. “He was testing a plane and something went wrong. It looked like he was going to bring it in safely, but the plane exploded when it touched down.”

Nancy understood why Eileen was so motherly to all the test pilots. But what she couldn't understand was why Eileen wasn't fighting tooth and nail to clear Gary's name. Oh, she seemed sympathetic and concerned, but she wasn't doing anything about it. Maybe she believed he was guilty.

Back at Nancy's car, the guard turned to her. “Okay, here's the deal,” he said. “You get in your car and you drive away from Jetstream.”

Nancy nodded and got in. She wasn't about to argue. She'd been lucky and she knew it.

“And,” the guard added in a warning tone, “you stay away. I won't forget you, and neither will Gina.”

Nodding again, Nancy started the car. As she turned around and pulled away, she could see the guard and the dog in her rearview mirror, watching.

She wouldn't forget them, either, she thought. But she would be back.

Nancy drove slowly down the long road that fronted the Jetstream complex. It was late, but she didn't want to hurry. She wanted time to think.

The place was well guarded, but no place
was perfect. That door she'd spotted just before being caught was the one to use,
if
she could get to it.

She hadn't seen the guard turn off any alarms when they went through the gate, so maybe the fence wasn't wired. That meant she could just climb over. Of course the building itself probably did have alarms. She'd have to ask Gary about that.

When the guard had been on his walkie-talkie, Nancy had been able to hear him. He'd contacted two others. That made three guards all together.

As for Gina, she was a trained guard dog. She couldn't be bribed with a nice piece of steak. Were there more like her? It wouldn't be easy, but Nancy could deal with locked doors and even alarm systems. Dogs like Gina were another story.

She knew she'd think of something because she had to get her hands on the Jetstar plans. Jetstream wasn't ready to put the new plane on the market yet, so if Aviane was getting plans from Jetstream they wouldn't have the most up-to-date ones. The Jetstar was already built; it had even been flown. Whatever changes were being made must be in the mechanics of it. If Nancy could just find out what the changes were, she might be a lot closer to discovering the leak.

As she reached the end of the road that fronted Jetstream, Nancy yawned. Enough for
one night, she thought. A good sleep and she'd be ready to start fresh the next day.

She'd just made the turn onto the road leading back to her aunt's when a pair of headlights glared in her rearview mirror. There was a car behind her, so close that the rear window was blanketed with white light.

Blinded by the light, Nancy tapped the brakes, signaling the other driver to stop tail-gating. The car stayed where it was. Nancy tapped the brakes again, honking her horn to help get the message across.

The car still didn't drop back, but the driver did turn the high beams down.

Enough of this, Nancy thought. She slowed down and edged to the side of the road, hoping the idiot would pass her.

The car behind her merely slowed down, too.

Was someone playing a game? Or was someone following her? There had been other cars on the road when she drove to Jetstream, but she hadn't paid any attention to them. One of them could have followed and waited for her. She decided to find out.

Pressing her foot down, Nancy pushed the Honda to the speed limit. The other car sped up, too. It stayed about a car length behind her and its headlights were on the regular beam now.