Hot Pursuit

by Carolyn Keene

  “Okay,” Bess said nervously. “But hurry up—and be careful!”

  “This place is sealed up tight,” George whispered as she and Nancy circled the hut. “Not even an air vent.”

  “No windows, either.” Nancy paused and stared at the small stucco building. “And since we don’t have X-ray vision, we’ll have to come up with another approach.” She gazed up at the thatched roof. “Feel like doing a little climbing?”

  “The roof?” George blinked. “I’m sure we can get up there. But it looks flimsy. Do you think it’ll hold us?”

  Nancy smiled. “There’s one way to find out.”

  They found a palm tree that arced a few feet away from the rooftop, and Nancy shimmied up it. She held on tight as the tree swayed a little, then gracefully swung down onto the roof.

  The straw roof was flimsy, but Nancy lay down flat and distributed her weight over a portion of it. It was enough to support her. A moment later George was lying on the roof beside her.

  “Now let’s see if we can get a look inside.” Grabbing a handful of straw, Nancy pulled it loose from the twine sheathing, while George pulled a second clump loose. The rooftop was a few inches thick, but they managed to thin out one spot so that they could see inside.

  The hut was empty then, but Nancy and George didn’t have to wait long for some activity. As they watched, the lights were switched on.

  “There’s someone inside,” George whispered.

  “No one went in through the door,” Nancy whispered back, “so he must have come through the tunnel.”

  Nancy peered through the slit. She was surprised to see a heavyset, jovial resort employee—Daniel! Nancy was willing to bet he was the one who had pushed the steel barrel at her earlier.

  With a congenial smile, Daniel led two women in from the tunnel door. He closed the door behind them, pulled the black book from the file cabinet, and logged an entry in it. One woman handed him an envelope. Daniel opened it and pulled out a wad of U.S. dollars.

  “Wow!” George mouthed.

  “There’s the payoff,” Nancy whispered. “Now let’s see what he sells them.”

  Daniel motioned for one of the women to sit in front of the screen. Working quickly, he took first her picture, then the other woman’s. Nancy watched curiously as he went to a file drawer and pulled out two yellow squares of paper.

  “Didn’t you suspect Vincent of smuggling jewelry?” George whispered.

  Nancy nodded. “But now I think they’re dealing in some other illegal trade.”

  As they whispered, Daniel rolled one of the yellow sheets of paper into the typewriter. It looked like some kind of certificate. Nancy squinted and finally could make out the embossed lettering: Lawful Permanent Resident. Then she noticed the seal of the United States of America.

  “Those are U.S. immigration certificates!” Nancy whispered excitedly.

  Daniel typed information on both certificates, then escorted the women out the door toward the hotel.

  “They take money in exchange for immigration cards,” Nancy said in a rush. “They aren’t smuggling jewelry—they’re smuggling people! The luggage those people were carrying wasn’t filled with stolen goods. They were just carrying their personal belongings.”

  George’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. “That means—”

  She was interrupted when the door from the tunnel opened again. This time, Steven Gibbs entered and ushered in what appeared to be a family of three along with their suitcases.

  “Gibbs!” George whistled softly.

  “Looks like he’s in on the operation, too,” Nancy whispered. “Or maybe in charge of it.”

  She was watching Gibbs take a young girl’s photo when she heard a stirring noise beside her.

  “I’m slipping!” George whispered, grabbing at the roof’s thatching.

  Nancy reached out to steady her friend, and George managed to grab hold of a bamboo beam. Nancy noticed that the motion had caused a few strands of straw to fall into the hut. She held her breath as they fluttered to the floor just inches from Gibbs’s face.

  “What’s that?” he barked, glaring up at the thatched ceiling.

  “We’ve been discovered!” Nancy whispered as Gibbs jumped up and raced for the door.

  Chapter

  Thirteen

  NANCY GLANCED DOWN at the ground, but she knew the distance was too great to risk jumping. She and George would have to climb back down the coconut palm tree, and that would take time. Gibbs was sure to see them before they could get away!

  “Bess!” Nancy hissed. Bess’s head popped up from behind a hibiscus bush. “Gibbs is coming. Stall him.”

  Bess raced toward the hut, pausing to pick up a coconut. Nancy heard Bess say “Hi” to Gibbs just as he opened the door. “Remember me, Bess Marvin, Mr. Gibbs? Maybe you can help me,” she continued.

  Gibbs sounded impatient as he asked, “What is it?”

  “I was looking for the bunkhouse for male staff. Andrew asked me to meet him there, and I’m late.” Bess giggled flirtatiously. “Do you know Andrew? He’s one of your lifeguards—the one with the muscles.”

  Easing herself down the tree trunk, Nancy laughed to herself. Bess was doing a great job! She just hoped Gibbs was falling for it.

  Gibbs muttered, “Of course, Andrew . . .”

  Nancy jumped the last few feet and scurried into the bushes, with George right behind her.

  “Just one more thing,” Bess said. “When I was coming down the path, this coconut fell. It hit the roof of your hut, then bounced off and landed at my feet. It almost brained me!” she finished.

  Way to go, Bess! Nancy thought. That would explain why pieces of straw had fallen into the room. She held her breath, waiting to see if Gibbs would go for the story.

  “It hit the roof?” Nancy heard him ask.

  “Almost scared me to death,” Bess said. “You should put warning signs under those trees.”

  Gibbs sounded more relaxed as he told her, “That’s not a bad idea, Bess.” He gave her directions to the bunkhouse, then disappeared back into the hut.

  “What a performance!” George said a minute later as the three girls rushed back down the path.

  “Is there really a lifeguard named Andrew?” Nancy asked.

  Bess laughed. “Beats me, but Gibbs pretended that he knew the name. I think he likes to act as if everyone here is part of one big, happy family.”

  “When the truth of the matter is that Pineapple Grove may just be a cover for a major smuggling operation.” Nancy led the girls to a secluded section of the main lobby. The huge, overstuffed basket chairs set in a cozy nook gave them a place to sort out their latest discovery.

  “Smuggling?” Bess’s eyes widened.

  “A people-smuggling operation.” Nancy told her what she and George had seen inside the hut. “Gibbs and his men are helping illegal aliens to get out of their native countries. They give their clients U.S. residency cards, then help transport them to the U.S. mainland.”

  “Though once they have papers, they can fly into the States on their own,” George pointed out. “After all, St. John is a U.S. territory. Customs and immigration inspections aren’t too strict when you fly in from an American territory.”

  Nancy nodded. “That’s why those guests were coming from the hut at night. The smugglers must bring them in at the secret landing, sneak them through the tunnel, and process their paperwork in the hut. Then the ‘guests’ can enjoy a few days at the resort before they go off to start a new life in America.”

  “But why pay to come into the U.S.?” Bess asked, frowning. “Why don’t they just come in legally?”

  “For some people this is the only way,” Nancy explained. “Immigration can be really complicated, and it takes a long time. And if they come from certain countries, where there might be immigration quotas, it’s almost an impossibility.

  “That explains what Eva was doing here,” Nancy continued. “And the Cordero brothers, too. Their names w
ere on the ‘client’ list in the hut.”

  “Wow!” Bess exclaimed. “All that money and trouble to sneak into the States. I guess we don’t always realize how good we have it.”

  George was drumming her fingers on the arms of her chair. “But where does Ricky Angeles fit into Gibbs’s operation?” she asked.

  “Ricky must be trying to smuggle his sister Maria in,” Nancy answered.

  “Of course!” George whistled through her teeth. “But something must have gone wrong.”

  Nancy nodded. “That’s why he threatened Gibbs.”

  “Therefore, Gibbs has been trying to have Ricky killed,” George added, following Nancy’s logic.

  “Right. They must have decided it would be easy to eliminate Ricky on the bike trip. Gibbs and Daniel would definitely have access to a master key, so one of them could have slipped into Ricky’s room and tampered with his music equipment.”

  “I guess they didn’t count on your brilliant rescues, Nancy,” Bess said, grinning.

  Nancy thought for a moment. “But something tells me there’s more to Ricky’s story,” she said. “Why would Gibbs try to kill him? He’ll never get extortion money with Ricky dead.”

  Bess shivered. “In other words, this case isn’t completely solved yet.”

  Nancy stood up. “Not until we hear the truth from Ricky Angeles.”

  • • •

  “Late-night visitors?” Ricky said, opening the door to his room and motioning for Nancy, Bess, and George to come in. “I just got out of the infirmary tonight.”

  Ricky turned off his television, then crossed to sit on the edge of his bed. Although he was still pale, he seemed alert and gave them a cheerful smile. “Any news?” he asked.

  Nancy told him what they had seen in the hut. “When I discovered that Gibbs was smuggling people in”—she paused before finishing—“I realized that your sister was supposed to be among them.”

  A look of surprise came over Ricky’s face. He stood up abruptly and went to stare out the balcony window. “So you know,” he said slowly. “I would have told you, Nancy, but this thing has become dangerous.”

  “You don’t have to convince us of that,” George told him, then described Nancy’s narrow escape from the moving steel barrel.

  Ricky buried his face in his hands for a moment. “I didn’t realize Gibbs was so desperate to keep things quiet. But I should have known. I knew that those close calls weren’t accidents.”

  With a look of resignation, he sat up straight and faced the girls. “Gibbs was supposed to be providing me with an invaluable service,” he explained. “For twenty thousand dollars, he promised to get my sister Maria into the States.”

  “What about you?” Bess asked. “Did you come to the U.S. illegally?”

  He shook his head. “Back then the immigration laws were different. When I was a boy, my family was driven out of Mindanao, a southern island of the Philippines, because of the fighting that was going on there. When my parents realized how much danger we were in, they decided to send me to the U.S. with my grandfather.”

  “What about your parents?” George asked. “Were they reluctant to leave their homeland?”

  “They were planning to follow with Maria.” Ricky’s eyes filled with tears. He swallowed before continuing. “But before the arrangements were completed, they were killed—casualties of the fighting. Maria was all alone. Eight years old and all alone. She stayed with some neighbors, then went to work when she was old enough.”

  Nancy didn’t know what to say. She didn’t approve of bringing Maria into the U.S. illegally, but she hoped Ricky could be reunited with his sister. The thought of the young girl left alone was heart-wrenching. Nancy couldn’t imagine living through something so terrible.

  “What about the immigration authorities?” she suggested after an awkward pause. “Did you try to get Maria in through legal means?”

  Ricky nodded wearily. “We’ve had an application on file at the U.S. Department of Immigration for years. But the processing takes so long. Then once you’re approved, there’s a quota system. The authorities put a cap on immigrants from certain countries, like Mexico and the Philippines. Right now it’s nearly impossible for Filipinos to get into America. Maria would have a chance if she were the wife or daughter of an American citizen. But it takes a lot longer for other relatives, even brothers and sisters. She may never get in legally.”

  “That must be hard,” Bess said gently. “All these years you two have tried to get together, but your countries are keeping you apart.”

  “It’s always been rough on Maria,” Ricky admitted. “I was fortunate to have my grandfather in America. But now he’s gone, too.”

  The comers of Ricky’s mouth turned down. “It’s been an endless struggle. I heard about Gibbs’s operation through a friend. I didn’t have any trouble talking the band into coming here, and once our agent agreed, everything was set. When I was coming here on the plane, I was so hopeful. I kept picturing Maria’s smiling face, knowing that soon she would be in America.” His voice became choked with emotion. “But now everything has backfired.”

  “What happened?” asked George.

  “I wish I knew. Gibbs says that she never met his contact on the boat leaving the Philippines, but I don’t believe him. I was skeptical when he first explained the delay. Then, when I saw Courtney wearing Maria’s earrings, I knew that Gibbs was lying. Those earrings are proof that Maria made it here to Pineapple Grove.”

  Nancy looked at Ricky. “Where do you think Maria is now?”

  Ricky’s eyes glimmered with sudden fury. “I’m not sure, but I bet Steven Gibbs knows more than he’s letting on.”

  “Has Gibbs ever tried to increase his fee?” Nancy asked. “Maybe he’s keeping her hidden until you come up with more money.”

  “No.” Ricky shook his head. “I still owe him half the money, but he knows I’ll pay as soon as I see her, and he’s never asked for a penny more than the price we originally agreed on. He just keeps telling me to be patient.” He turned to Nancy, a desperate look in his eyes. “I’m afraid something really terrible has happened to her.”

  As Nancy listened to Ricky, she realized that the situation was much more serious than she had guessed at first. Looking from Ricky to her friends, she said, “This has gone way too far. I think we’d better go to the police.”

  “No!” Ricky shook his head vehemently. “We can’t do that. I won’t risk Maria’s life.”

  “Ricky—” Nancy began, but she was interrupted when he pulled a piece of paper from the drawer of the nightstand and handed it to her.

  “I found this in my room when I returned from the infirmary,” he told her. “Someone must have slipped it under the door.”

  Nancy stared down at the note typed on plain white paper. There was no signature, but the sender’s message was clear: Stay away from the police—if you want to see your sister alive again!

  Chapter

  Fourteen

  THAT’S A pretty strong warning,” Nancy commented, passing the note to Bess and George.

  Ricky swallowed nervously. “That’s why I don’t want to get the police involved. Besides, the local police wouldn’t listen. Everyone around here adores Gibbs. Pineapple Grove has brought a lot of money and jobs to the area.”

  “You’re right,” George agreed. “And it wouldn’t be safe to place a call to immigration officials using the resort phone system.”

  “Still,” said Nancy, shaking her head, “we have to find a way to report this.” Ricky started to object, but she was emphatic. “Ricky, the immigration agents may be the only ones who can save your sister’s life. I can’t promise that she’ll be admitted to the States, but right now we have to concentrate on finding her—alive.”

  “And how do you suggest we do that?” Ricky challenged her.

  “I’ll do my best to track her down.” Nancy glanced at her watch. “It’s after midnight—a little late to start combing the resort now. But I�
�ll start searching first thing in the morning. Do you have a recent picture of Maria that I can use?”

  Ricky pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and took out a color photograph, which he handed to Nancy.

  “Thanks,” she told him, studying the smiling face of the pretty, slender girl with dark hair. “This should help.”

  “What about the police?” George asked.

  “Well,” Nancy said after a pause, “I think our best bet is to contact the Department of Immigration—personally. So tomorrow morning you and Bess take the early air taxi to Saint Thomas for a tour of the island. First stop, Department of Immigration.”

  “That’s some tour,” Bess said jokingly. “I can’t wait to hear what you have in mind for the afternoon. But no kidding, Ricky,” she added, smiling at the bass player, “we’re glad to help out any way we can.”

  Ricky smiled back at her, but he still seemed nervous. Getting up from the bed, he started pacing again. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Stay calm and cool—and be careful,” Nancy told him firmly. “We don’t want to give Gibbs and his men any more opportunities to hurt you.”

  Shooting Nancy a worried glance, he asked, “Should I bow out of filming tomorrow? I could help you search the resort.”

  “No, I don’t want you to make any moves that might let Gibbs know we’re onto him.”

  “We’d better go now,” Nancy said, heading for the door. “We’re going to need a good night’s rest!”

  • • •

  The next morning, after seeing Bess and George off at the boat dock, Nancy began a systematic search of Pineapple Grove. She didn’t know who on the staff might be involved with Gibbs’s operation, so she tried not to attract the attention of anyone wearing a turquoise and white resort uniform. But the staff was so large and helpful that everywhere she turned she ran into a maid asking if she needed directions or a waiter offering her a cool drink!

  After three hours of knocking on doors and peeking in windows, she had checked the arts and crafts shop, the bakery, the sports equipment shed, the kitchen, and about a dozen other buildings and sheds. If Maria Angeles was hidden at the resort, Nancy thought dejectedly, her presence was a well-guarded secret.