Deadly Doubles (3 page)

George whistled. “Have you called the police yet? . . . You’ve got to,” she said when Nancy shook her head. “Even if Teresa’s not in danger, something’s going on! You can identify those men.”

“From the way they acted, I think they’re professionals, but they’re inexperienced—or they’d have made sure who I was before they grabbed me. It might be a good idea to let Senator Kilpatrick know what happened before I call the police.” Nancy broke off, her eyes narrowing.

Teresa and her companion had reached the road. They crossed it, so deep in talk that neither of them looked up. Just as well, Nancy thought. The “cute guy” was the stunning dark-haired, dark-eyed athlete who had let Nancy cut through the gym building earlier. But instead of entering the building, Teresa and the young man veered around it and headed toward the parking lots.

Nancy turned to Bess and George. “I have to warn her. You two meet me back at the hotel. There’s a shuttle bus from here that you can take. Okay?” She sped off after Teresa and her companion.

By the time Nancy reached the parking lot, the two athletes were already ahead by several rows of cars. Nancy saw a group of fans stop the San Carlos girl for autographs. Almost immediately the man with her pulled her away from them. Then, still holding her, he began to run toward the next lot.

Another abduction? Nancy picked up speed. Suddenly, as they stopped beside a blue car, he released Teresa’s arm.

Teresa abruptly turned to throw her arms around his neck.

Nancy’s mind eased a little. From the way the two were kissing, it was clear that they were in love. It was also clear that they were in a hurry, and she thought Teresa looked a bit frightened. He unlocked the driver’s door and, instead of going around to unlock the other, motioned for Teresa to climb behind the wheel and then slide over. She obeyed.

As the man climbed into the driver’s seat, Nancy began to run. She was able to reach her rented car and gun the motor before the athletes’ blue car nosed its way to the lot exit. But instead of turning toward the main road it swung into the lane, heading straight toward Nancy.

It passed her and zoomed down the dirt road, traveling at high speed.

Nancy swung her car into a tight three-point turn and took off after them.

The two cars bounced onto the highway and headed in the direction of Alexandria. Soon they were swallowed up in homebound traffic. Nancy began a skillful game of cat and mouse, trying to stay only one or two cars behind the blue car. She couldn’t afford either to lose them or to alarm them.

They passed the Tyson’s Corner shopping mall and the skyscrapers of Crystal City. National Airport loomed ahead of her, then lay behind. At last the blue car was rolling, exactly at the speed limit, along Washington Street.

It turned a corner with a screech of the wheels—and swung into the driveway of the very hotel where Nancy and her friends were staying.

Nancy followed the car into the underground garage and parked several spaces away. Was her raincoat still in the backseat? It was. She pulled it on and thrust on sunglasses. They might look ridiculous, but they’d keep Teresa’s companion from recognizing her. What Nancy had to say to Teresa she meant to say in private.

Her hopes of getting into the elevator with the two athletes were defeated. The young man pushed the Close button as soon as he and Teresa were inside. But Nancy had noticed the mirrored back wall of the elevator car, and she watched which floor button he pushed. Hoping that the elevator would get held up at the lobby, she tore up the emergency stairs and was loitering in the third-floor corridor as the two stepped out.

They hurried down the corridor and around a bend. As she pretended to unlock the door to one of the rooms, Nancy saw them exchange a few words. They seemed to be arguing. Teresa shook her head. Then she rose on tiptoe to kiss the young man—hard—broke off to unlock her door, and slipped inside.

The handsome athlete strode rapidly down the hall toward Nancy. As soon as he passed her, Nancy ran to Teresa’s room, pulling her glasses and raincoat off as she did so. She knocked sharply.

After a moment a guarded, Spanish-accented voice replied, “Who is it?”

“Housekeeping. I have your extra towels.” Nancy was glad she’d noticed that the hotel didn’t provide many. She hoped that through the peephole her knit top would look like a maid’s uniform to Teresa.

After what seemed like minutes, Nancy heard the sound of a dead-bolt lock being thrown. A chain clinked. Then the door opened wide enough for a stack of towels to be passed through.

Nancy and Teresa looked straight into each other’s eyes.

Teresa’s expression turned from surprise to fear—and then to shock as she realized the strong resemblance between them.

At that moment a loud yell came from the direction of the elevator. It was followed instantly by the rapid fire of an automatic pistol.

Chapter Four

I
NSTANTLY
N
ANCY SHOVED
Teresa back into her room and slammed the door shut. “I’m a detective. I work for the U.S. government.” Nancy spoke in Spanish, as rapidly as she was able. If she didn’t quite work for the federal government, working for a senator was the closest thing to it. “Stay inside! Lock the door and don’t open it till I come back and say, ‘It’s Nancy. It’s okay’!”

She saw comprehension flood Teresa’s face, and as she dashed off she heard the door lock. Nancy turned the corner and came to a complete stop in front of the elevator.

The corridors in both directions were empty. The red lights on the plaque above the elevator showed that the car was going down, down, all the way to the garage level before it stopped.

It was too late to catch whoever was on the elevator. Nancy scooped up the house phone on the console table opposite the elevator door. “This is an emergency! Send someone from Security to the third floor right away!”

As she dropped the receiver Nancy detected a faint moaning. Her heart pounding, she traced the sound to a room scarcely fifteen feet away. Should she wait or take a chance?

If someone was wounded, there was no time to lose. Nancy hammered on the door, then tried the handle.

“Just a minute, miss!” A heavy hand closed on Nancy’s shoulder. As she jerked around, the burly man produced his badge. “Security. Suppose you explain what’s going on.”

Quickly Nancy identified herself. “I’m a guest on the floor below. I phoned for you because I heard shots—right here by the elevator, I’m sure. And I just heard moaning from beyond this door.”

“There’s no moaning now,” the house detective answered skeptically. Sure enough, the third floor was as quiet as a tomb. “From the second floor, are you? What were you doing up here, anyway?”

“Visiting a friend,” Nancy said briefly. “And I did hear shots!” Rapidly Nancy scanned the walls and floor around the elevator. Suddenly she dove beneath the console table. “Look at this,” she exclaimed as she straightened up. “It’s a spent bullet. A nine-millimeter, isn’t it?”

The detective’s eyes narrowed. “You heard moaning? As if somebody’d been hit?”

“I’m not sure. It was very weak, but there doesn’t seem to be any blood around here.”

The detective knocked on the door. “Security! I’m holding my badge up to the peephole for you to see. Open the door or I’m coming in with a passkey!”

The door opened slowly. “Oh, thank goodness. I’ve been so frightened,” a small, white-haired woman said weakly. “I tried to call the front desk to tell them, but my hands were shaking so—”

“Tell them what?” Nancy asked gently.

“Why, about the kidnapping—” The little woman stopped, gasping for air. Nancy steered her to a velvet chair as the detective went to the bathroom for a glass of water.

“Drink that, and try to tell me. I’m sorry, ma’am, but it may be important.”

“Yes, I know.” The woman sipped some water, then went on. “I’m Mrs. Sherman. Mrs. John Sherman, from Atlanta. I was taking a nap before dinner. And I heard pushing and shoving coming from the hall outside. Then somebody screamed. I suppose I shouldn’t have, but I—I opened the door a crack. I was afraid it was children playing, you know, and that one of them was hurt. So I looked out—”

Mrs. Sherman swallowed hard. “That’s when the shots came. And I saw three men—no, four. One of them had the gun. He was pointing it at a nice young man while the two others were shoving him into the elevator.” She spread her hands. “I would have helped him if I could! But it was happening so fast—they fell into the elevator, and the door slammed, and then I—I started having a dizzy spell.”

The detective strode to the telephone. “This is Dixon. There are a couple of patrolmen having coffee in the coffee shop. Get them up to Room Three-twenty-two pronto!” he ordered. Then he turned back to the woman and took out a pen and notepad. “Do you think you can describe the men you saw?”

“Oh my, yes,” Mrs. Sherman said firmly. “One of them was your size, and the other two were a little shorter. They were in their twenties, I would say. The bigger one, the one with the gun, was older. They all had olive skin, and one of the young ones had a small mustache. The other had a scar on his face. They were wearing dark pin-striped suits.”

Nancy almost gasped. The descriptions fit her own kidnappers exactly!

“And the victim?” Dixon prodded.

Mrs. Sherman’s eyes filled with tears. “He was such a nice young man! One of the tennis players, I think. At least, he wore whites and some kind of badge. Beautiful dark wavy hair.” Nancy recognized the description even before the woman added, “I’ve seen him before, with that tennis girl who’s staying down the hall.”

First an attempt to kidnap Teresa—now a successful kidnapping of her boyfriend! Now what do I do? Nancy wondered, perplexed. Tell what I know, or wait till I’ve talked to Senator Kilpatrick? For all I know, national security could be involved!

Before she could decide, the room exploded into action. Two young patrolmen arrived. Pushing her way between them was a forceful, middle-aged Hispanic woman.

“What is happening? I am Seńora Ramirez, chaperon for the San Carlos entry in the international tennis tournament, and I demand to know! If there is danger, I cannot allow my charge to stay here!”

At that, everybody began talking at once. The police took down Nancy’s story, or as much of it as she’d revealed to the man from Security. One of the patrolmen went up to the room on the other side of the hotel where Roberto—Teresa’s boyfriend—was staying. Detective Dixon and Mrs. Sherman tried to calm Seńora Ramirez. The police demanded to see Teresa. Seńora Ramirez demanded that the police first provide an official Spanish translator and somebody from the San Carlos embassy. Then she took off in the direction of Teresa’s room while the police made the necessary phone calls.

Nancy discreetly left the room. Not waiting for the elevator, she ran down the emergency stairs, two at a time, to the second floor.

George and Bess jumped up as Nancy entered. “Another kidnapping! This time it’s Teresa’s boyfriend. I have to call Marilyn Kilpatrick,” Nancy said as she ran for the telephone. Before she reached it, George had dug into Nancy’s purse and brought out the telephone number.

The senator wasn’t in her office. She was in conference somewhere, and whoever answered the phone did not know when or where she could be reached. “Tell her Nancy has to talk to her
soon
,” Nancy said urgently. She didn’t feel secure about leaving a more explicit message.

“I think you’d better deal us in,” George said quietly as Nancy put down the phone.

“I think so, too, even though I’m not supposed to without permission.” Nancy took a deep breath. “I’m supposed to receive a message from a courier in the Hollins Gymnasium locker room. Originally it was for this afternoon. Then the meeting was changed to tonight. I don’t know what it’s about, but it has to do with San Carlos. Senator Kilpatrick is involved in a secret top-level diplomatic mission.”

George whistled. “Do you suppose it has something to do with the attempt to kidnap Teresa?” she asked.

“I think so. Teresa’s staying in a room one floor above us but facing the back. At least the police are with her.” Nancy glanced out the window. “No they’re not! Those two down there by the patrol car were the ones who talked to me, but they’re leaving, and they don’t have Teresa or Seńora Ramirez with them.” Nancy stopped, thinking.

“Bess, stay here in case the senator calls. Tell her what happened. George, come with me. The sooner we get some answers from Teresa Montenegro, the better.”

Nancy and George ran for the emergency stairs. They were running so fast that George crashed into a dark figure who was on her way down. It was Seńora Ramirez, out of breath and distraught. She grabbed Nancy and began shouting at her in Spanish.

“Please! Speak more slowly,” Nancy pleaded, also in Spanish.

“Seńorita Montenegro—she is my responsibility, and she has tricked me—”

Nancy finally understood that Teresa had asked her chaperon for some aspirin. While the older woman was in the bathroom getting it, Teresa had slammed the door shut on her and run out.

“She is going for the car I have rented. I know it. She took the keys—”

“We’ll get her. Come on, George!” Nancy shouted.

They sprinted down the stairs and headed for the parking garage, leaving Seńora Ramirez behind.

The garage was dim with shadows, lit only by a few overhead bulbs and the twilight coming in through the exit and entryway.

“Split,” Nancy whispered, gesturing for George to take the left side. George nodded. Her tennis shoes made no sound as she ran.

A banner hung over the center parking area. It read International Women’s Semi-Pro Tennis Tournament. Someone was doing a good job of promotion, Nancy thought briefly as she threaded her way to the right lane.

Something moved. Was it—yes, it
was
Teresa, furtively hurrying toward a car. Nancy started to run.

Then, all at once, a car engine roared to life nearby. Headlights glared blindingly, and Nancy saw the great shape bearing down on her—and on Teresa!

With a burst of speed, Nancy flung herself at the girl from San Carlos, knocking her down. Teresa screamed. At the same moment, Nancy wrapped her arms around Teresa tightly and jerked to the right. The two of them rolled over once, twice, as the car screamed by in a dark blur, just inches away from them.