097 Squeeze Play

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097 Squeeze Play Page 8

by Carolyn Keene

"I have a meeting with Stormy at five," Nancy said smugly. "I told her Fm a reporter. Maybe I can find out something that will break this case."

  "Good luck," Victor said, rising from his chair. "I wish I'd thought of that."

  "Thanks," Nancy said, pushing her own chair back. "And one more thing, how did you find me at the mall?"

  Victor took the two steps to the door but didn't open it. "Guess," he said, grinning.

  "You've been following me," Nancy said, watching his expression. "But for how long?"

  "Since you left the parking garage on Sunday night. Don't worry, though, you're not a suspect," Victor said. "I just want to keep you out of trouble."

  Nancy swallowed hard. She knew the FBI was doing its job, but still she felt angry. She could feel the blood rush into her face and her cheeks turn bright red. It was as though the spark of friendship between them had just been doused.

  "Sorry," Victor said apologetically, seeing her anger rise. "But I didn't know who I was dealing with when I met you. You could have turned out to be a loose cannon."

  "Then you agree that I'm not," Nancy snapped.

  "Now, wait a minute," Victor said, raising his hands in the air. "I didn't say that. I'm just not so sure anymore."

  "So you don't mind if I interview Stormy?"

  "Not as long as you tell me what she says," Victor replied.

  "I'm sure we can find a way to meet," Nancy said lightly, reaching for the door.

  "I don't suppose you'd pay any attention if I told you to be careful?" Victor said smoothly.

  "I think anyone would be careful if she knew she had the FBI on her tail," Nancy replied, stepping out of the van. When she turned the comer, she peeked back and saw Victor smiling at her.

  Nancy found herself watching her rearview mirror as she drove back to Andy's Arcade. She saw nothing suspicious. Still, the idea that she had been followed for two days without knowing it was hard for her to take.

  She pulled into the strip mall, but this time, instead of parking out front, she took a right turn and followed a narrow drive to additional parking tucked behind a Chinese restaurant. This lot was nearly empty, and Nancy pulled her car into a space in the back corner.

  She got out and made a quick visual check of her surroundings. Then, starting at the driver's side, Nancy began to work her way around the Mustang, feeling carefully under the front bumper and the wheel wells.

  She was inching her way around the back bumper on the passenger's side when her fingers touched something hard and square.

  Nancy pulled out a small, metal box with strong magnets on one side. She didn't need to examine it more. She knew it was a transmitter!

  Chapter Thirteen

  No wonder she hadn't seen her tail, Nancy thought. The FBI had been tracking her electronically. She carefully replaced the box, wondering if Victor was good enough to know she had discovered his secret. There was no one in sight as she started toward Andy's Arcade.

  "Nancy, we thought you'd been kidnapped," Bess said from the large, semicircular booth where she sat with George, Luke, and Sean. Across the room teens were working the levers at a bank of arcade games. "What happened to you?"

  Nancy glanced at her watch and realized she was almost forty-five minutes late.

  "We were about to send the FBI after you," George said, joking.

  "That wouldn't have helped," Nancy said. "They were the reason I was late."

  "Is there news?" Sean asked eagerly.

  Nancy saw a young man in an Andy's Arcade apron start across the room toward them. She asked for fish V chips and a soda and waited while each of her friends placed their orders. Then she told them about her visit to the FBI mobile command center and finding the transmitter on her car.

  When the food arrived, George asked, "Want to go to the park after lunch? Luke's going to teach me how to throw a knuckleball."

  Luke smiled over his double cheeseburger. "She's a natural. She'll pick it up easy."

  "Let's all go," Nancy replied.

  "I'm game," Bess agreed, daintily picking up a french fry.

  "Leave me out." Sean frowned. "I'm going back home. Lunch is a nice break, but I really need to stay by the phone."

  After that Sean remained silent, though when they left the restaurant he followed Nancy to her car.

  "I'm getting scared," he said, his face pale. "If we lose the game tomorrow, the series will be over. The Rangers will have won, and the kidnappers won't need Caitlin anymore."

  "Then Caitlin can come back home," Nancy said quietly.

  "Maybe," Sean said. "But let's not forget that Caitlin probably knows who the kidnappers are. They might not let her go."

  It was a possibility, unless Nancy could solve the case before the series was over.

  "You could win the game," Nancy said. 'Then the series would continue."

  Sean frowned. "No, I can't—not when they've told me to lose." He wanted to say more, Nancy could tell, but couldn't.

  "We'll find her," Nancy told him firmly. But after he'd gone, she couldn't help wondering if they would.

  Twenty minutes later Bess and Nancy settled on the grass under an oak tree in River Park. Luke pulled George's Falcons cap down over her eyes and the two were quickly caught up in a game of chase, which Luke soon won, tackling George.

  It was good to see someone having fun, Nancy thought. She and Bess watched as Luke leaned over George's shoulder, showing her how to hold the ball.

  "I think I've got it." George laughed, holding the ball in the air with her knuckles aligned along the seams.

  Luke backed up to catch George's pitches, which were clumsy at first.

  "You've got to fire them in here," he urged as he tossed the ball back to her. "Come on, show me your stuff."

  George made an exaggerated windup and then giggled when Luke had to run down her wild pitch.

  Nancy remembered when Ned had brought her to this same park to show her how to throw a football. That seemed like ages ago. It would be nice to have him here now.

  "That's it!" Luke yelled, jumping to his feet as one of George's pitches finally cooked. "You're not ready for the majors yet, but you've got the basics. Anyone for a soda?" he called, walking toward Nancy and Bess.

  "Thanks, but I've got an interview to get ready for," Nancy said, checking her watch.

  "I'm out, too," Bess said as they got to their feet.

  "That leaves you," Luke said, turning to George with a grin.

  "Sounds good to me," George said. "As long as you promise to call me if anything important happens, Nancy."

  Nancy agreed, and George and Luke headed for his car hand-in-hand.

  Nancy dropped off Bess and got to her house just as the phone was ringing. She answered it casually and was taken by surprise.

  "Nancy?" It was Ned. "I was about to hang up."

  "I'm glad you didn't," she said, sighing.

  "What have you been up to?" he asked. "It seems like forever since we've talked. I bet you have another case by now."

  "Of course," Nancy replied. "I had to do something to stay busy while you were gone." Then she told him about the kidnapping.

  "So, tell me about Sean," Ned said. "He's supposed to be really something."

  She could detect a touch of jealousy in his tone, and smiled. "Why don't you come home and meet him?"

  "I thought you'd never ask," Ned said. "How does Thursday sound? They're letting me out of here a couple days early, and I think I can make it for the last game of the series."

  "I just hope the Falcons don't lose it tomorrow," she said. "But let's think positively. It's a date."

  Nancy hung up, praying that the kidnapping would be solved by then. She changed into a pair of slacks, a white blouse, and a jacket, and took a stenographer's pad and pencil from her father's desk. Then she left the house and drove to the River's Edge Lodge.

  The restaurant was connected to the lobby. As soon as she pushed through the glass doors, she spotted Stormy. The Rangers owner was already at a
round table in the center of the room. She was wearing black pants and a blue T-shirt with a picture of a cartoon cowboy stepping on a bird that looked a little like Freddy the Falcon.

  Nancy introduced herself and pulled up a chair across from Stormy.

  "I hope you're going to cover our victory tomorrow," Stormy said.

  "You seem awfully confident," Nancy commented as she pulled her chair in. A large platter of boiled shrimp sat between them.

  "I'm always confident,*' Stormy returned loudly, cracking open a shrimp and gulping it down. A few customers turned and frowned at her. "We're number one," she chanted, raising her arms to address the entire restaurant and succeeding only in antagonizing the other customers.

  Nancy smiled.

  "I understand you need this win," she said, putting her notebook on the table.

  "Who doesn't need a win?" Stormy said, leaning close to Nancy. "It's what baseball's all about." And then as an afterthought she added, "Have some shrimp."

  Nancy smiled but waved the food away. "The paper said this win is especially important to you," she pressed.

  "You mean my money problems," Stormy answered, brushing her hand through the air as if to wave the comment away.

  "What about them?" Nancy pressed. "Obviously, you've heard the rumors."

  "Nonsense, absolute nonsense," Stormy said.

  "Then you're not having financial problems?"

  "Certainly not," Stormy snapped.

  "And the television deal?"

  "Bad question," Stormy said, dunking another shrimp in a bowl of hot sauce. "I'm not talking about TV tonight."

  Nancy scribbled on her pad, to make her reporter disguise appear real. "I was watching you in the stands yesterday," Nancy said with a smile. "Do you always get to the games early?"

  Stormy laughed heartily. "I try to," she said. "But sometimes it doesn't work out. Like Sunday when I had a flat tire on the way to the park. Can you believe it? I called my mechanic from the first pay phone I got to and told him heads would roll when I got back to Mill City."

  Nancy made another note on her pad. She wondered whether Stormy was telling the truth. If she was, she had an alibi for the time when Caitlin was kidnapped.

  Stormy waved to a waitress and ordered another plate of shrimp. "Enough about baseball," she said. "Let's talk about me. Did you know that when I was twelve, I hit more home runs than anyone else in my city league? But they wouldn't let me play once I got to high school. So as soon as I could, I bought myself a team."

  Stormy continued chatting about herself while Nancy took notes obediently, hoping eventually to get back to more important subjects—such as whether Stormy had ever seen the inside of a Freddy the Falcon suit. She never got the chance.

  Ten minutes later the waitress returned. "You have a phone call," she said to Stormy.

  The Rangers' owner left the table without even excusing herself. She talked for only a few minutes at the phone on the hostess's desk, said a few words to the waitress, and headed out the door.

  Nancy was on her feet in an instant. She caught the waitress on her way to the kitchen. "Excuse me," she said politely. "Did Ms. Tarver say where she was going?"

  "I'm afraid not," the waitress said. "But she did say you could have whatever you wanted and she'd pick up the tab."

  Nancy was instantly suspicious. She spotted a door that led directly to the parking lot, went through it to her car, and watched the front entrance of the River's Edge Lodge.

  About five minutes later she saw Stormy Tarver come out and slip behind the wheel of a black luxury sedan. Delgado had said the FBI was following Stormy, but Nancy couldn't take a chance. She was certain the Rangers' owner was on her way someplace important.

  Nancy started up and pulled into traffic, following the black sedan.

  Stormy turned right at the first intersection and drove north before turning again onto a quiet side street that wound through a residential area. She pulled to a stop at the edge of a park.

  The park was just a block wide and about twice as long. Stormy parked near a bench. Behind it was a small rose garden and a grass-covered hillside that ended at the walk running alongside the next street.

  Nancy rounded the end of the park and pulled into a lot on the upper edge. A row of trees and shrubs partially shielded her from Stormy. Guessing that Stormy was about to meet someone, she came up with a plan. She took the bag of clothes from the backseat and headed for the row of trees.

  Stormy had taken a seat on the bench. Soon another car appeared, the vehicle stopped, and a man got out and approached the bench. Storm clouds had gathered, and the streetlights automatically came on. Nancy had to wait for the man to pass under a streetlight to identify him as Rod Sanders,

  Nancy quickly pulled on her father's old top coat and traded her sandals for a pair of his worn tennis shoes. She had to lace the shoes extra tight to keep them on her feet. Next she stuffed her shiny hair up into a wide-brimmed hat. She dug through the bag and found a green scarf, which she pulled over the hat and knotted under her chin to help hide her face, then smudged some dirt on her cheeks.

  Rod was almost to the bench now, so she turned the coat collar up and grabbed the paper bag. She glanced around the park one more time. There was no sign of the FBI.

  Nancy began to shuffle down the concrete walk, keeping her eyes on the ground as though searching for trash or recyclables. She hoped Stormy and Rod would dismiss her as a bag lady, scavenging in the park.

  Nancy felt a surge of adrenaline as she neared the bench where Stormy was sitting. She could hear the faint murmur of them talking. With great effort she kept her steps slow. As she approached, Nancy spotted a trash can beside the bench and headed straight for it, ignoring the two suspects.

  "Don't get mad at me—you're the one who wanted the job/' Stormy said, raising her voice slightly.

  Nancy set her paper bag beside the trash can and began to rummage around inside it, trying hard to avoid the worst of the garbage.

  "I don't like seeing you during the series. Someone might spot us," Rod said as Nancy pulled an aluminum can from the trash and dropped it into her bag. She could hardly believe her ears.

  "No more notes and no more phone calls," he went on. Nancy pulled her head out of the garbage can, so she could hear Stormy's response. She was so focused on her suspects that she accidentally kicked her bag. It fell over in a loud crash, and Stormy swung around to stare at her.

  Nancy's heart skipped a beat.

  If either of them recognized her, Sean might never see his daughter again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "Watch it!" Nancy said, pretending to accuse them of knocking the bag over. Once again she leaned into the can and began rummaging through the garbage.

  "Sorry," Rod said, obviously thinking she was crazy.

  Nancy didn't react but continued to paw garbage for several minutes before pulling her head out of the can. The bench was empty. Stormy was already in her car, and Rod was halfway to his, covering the distance with long, angry strides.

  Nancy breathed a sigh of relief. She picked up her paper bag and started back toward her car, giving up the slow shuffle as soon as Stormy and Rod had driven away.

  Nancy was walking past the row of shrubs when she heard a voice.

  "Is there anything you don't do?"

  Nancy jumped, but then relaxed when Victor Delgado came out from his hiding place in the bushes. He studied her from head to toe, smiled, and shook his head slowly.

  "It was the best I could manage on short notice," Nancy said wryly.

  "You could have caused real problems with that stunt," Delgado said. "What if they had recognized you?"

  "But they didn't," Nancy said. "And wait until I tell you what they said."

  Victor followed Nancy back to her car and listened carefully as she repeated Rod's words while taking off her disguise.

  "They're definitely in on something together," Nancy said.

  "You're right." Victor took a deep bre
ath and let it out slowly. "And we wouldn't have gotten it without you. More than that, what you did took guts. I guess it's time to tell you that you're a good detective, Nancy Drew."

  "That's nice to hear from the FBI," Nancy said, smiling. "You're not bad yourself. Now, what are we going to do about Caitlin?"

  "Unfortunately, we still have to let our suspects make the next move," Victor said. "Even if Rod and Stormy are involved, we don't have anything on them that would stand up in court. And if we arrested them now, they could refuse to talk, meaning we might never find Sean's daughter."

  "So we just keep waiting and hope one of them leads us to Caitlin?"

  "I'm afraid so," Victor answered. "In the meantime, I think I'll get some sleep. Following you has worn me out."

  It was just a few minutes past one the next afternoon when Nancy left her house for the Falcon's Roost. She had spent a good part of the morning on the phone giving updates to George and Bess, whom she was meeting at the stadium. She knew George would have filled Luke in, and Victor had promised to talk to Sean. Nancy had also spoken with Chief McGinnis and been assured that Delgado's men were watching both Rod and Stormy.

  "Nothing yet," McGinnis had said. "But we'll find Caitlin soon, Nancy, and it will be thanks in large part to you."

  The praise, first from Victor, and then from Chief McGinnis, had felt good, but Nancy couldn't help thinking that it was premature. As she drove toward the stadium, she kept hearing Sean's words in her mind.

  "If we lose tomorrow, the series will be over," he had said. "The kidnappers won't need Caitlin anymore."

  Tomorrow had come. In just half an hour the game would start. Stormy and Rod were her prime suspects, but not the only ones. She hadn't found anything much on Rebecca. If she was involved, who was helping her?

  Her brain boiling over with questions, Nancy brought her Mustang to a halt at the same red light where she had avoided a collision on her way to the second game of the series.

  She shifted her car into reverse and eased it back to make room for a flatbed truck trying to make a wide turn. It was empty, and Nancy guessed it was a lumber truck coming back from a construction site west of town.

 

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