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Witness to Murder

Page 6

by Franklin W. Dixon


  "You hungry, Annie?" Joe asked.

  She smiled ironically. "No, but I bet you are."

  The first fast-food place they came to, they ordered and then ate as they drove along the highway. It's good being alone with Annie, Joe thought as he checked the rear view mirror and switched to the fast lane. Inside the van they were safe, in a warm and cozy cocoon far from the problems of the world.

  With Annie so quiet Joe had time to do some serious thinking. He didn't like there being tension between Frank and him, but he knew that Annie was right when she said Frank had never liked her. And now Frank was doubly suspicious of her. It was also true that there were some facts about the case that just didn't add up. Maybe it was time to ask some questions.

  "Annie, you asleep?" She turned to look at him and gently shook her head. "Can we talk?" This time she nodded. "That day in Mr. Pizza, when you got the phone call from Phil, that wasn't the first time you'd heard from him lately, was it?" Joe glanced over at her, curled up so sweetly in the seat beside him.

  She hesitated but finally spoke. "No. Phil called me a few days earlier from New York. He wanted me to come to the city to see him. He said he'd hit the big time, and he wanted another chance with me."

  "What did you tell him?"

  "That I wanted nothing to do with him. Believe me, Joe, I was through with Phil Sidler. I was afraid of him."

  "But what happened? He wouldn't take no for an answer?"

  "He said he was coming to talk to me. I begged him not to. I told him it wouldn't do any good, that I wouldn't see him." Annie twisted the ring on her right hand. "He wanted to know if there was anyone else."

  "What did you tell him?"

  "I knew he'd be jealous, Joe. If I mentioned another guy, he'd have a fit. So I lied. I told him no, but that I still didn't want to see him. He called again when he got to Bayport. He said he was coming to Mr. Pizza to get me. He said I'd change my mind when I heard about all the money he'd made."

  "You think he was talking about the diamonds? That he'd double-crossed Cutter for the stones?"

  "I don't know. I didnVask where he'd gotten the money. He was always involved in some crazy get-rich scheme that only made him poorer. Joe." Annie reached out in the dark and put her hand on Joe's arm. "You believe me, don't you? I never knew how nice a guy could be until I met you. I'd never do anything to hurt you." In the beams from an oncoming car Annie's face was suddenly brightly lit, and Joe's heart did a flip-flop when he glanced at her gorgeous hazel eyes.

  Annie snuggled closer to him. And Joe could smell her cologne and shampoo as her hair softly brushed his cheek.

  Joe hadn't thought he could ever care for any-one after Iola had been killed. But he had started feeling good about Annie. Now the accident had come between them. And he was beginning to have doubts about Annie's story. Some of it didn't add up. His mind whirled with unanswered questions as he drove through the dark night. He glanced into the rear-view mirror every few minutes to make sure they weren't being followed. "Wake up, Annie." Joe gently roused the girl an hour later. "We're almost there."

  "I wasn't asleep." Annie yawned. "I was thinking."

  "About me?" Joe teased. "I wish I'd met you years ago." "Years ago I was just a kid," Joe had to admit. "You're no old man now." Annie laughed. She looked out the window. "Why are we driving on these back streets?" She glanced into the side-view mirror, suddenly alert. -

  Joe had pulled off the highway at the exit for Allendale. He'd driven around the gray and deserted streets several times before heading for the motel he remembered. He didn't want to alarm Annie, but he was being realistic. "I want to be sure no one's following us." "You think they would? You think Cutter's men could have been watching your house?" Annie's voice rose in alarm.

  "Calm down, Annie. I said I was just being careful. No one's followed us. I've been watching all the way from Bayport."

  "And I thought your mind was on me." Annie tried to smile, but Joe could see that she was still tense.

  Pulling into the parking lot for the small motel, Joe managed a laugh. "Holiday Hideout." He read the name of the motel. "Like the sound of that?"

  "It's hard to think of this as a holiday," Annie answered solemnly, looking at the neon vacancy sign.

  They had to ring the bell to wake someone up so they could register. A woman unlocked the door. She was tying a bathrobe around her ample waist, her hair in rollers, her eyes heavy with sleep as she came out to greet them.

  "Do you have a room left?" asked Joe.

  The proprietor eyed the two of them, then smiled when she noticed Annie twisting her ring. Joe saw that she'd switched it to her left hand, and she was looking at him with dreamy eyes. He felt his face heat up. The woman laughed. "I can always spot honeymooners. I'll bet you two eloped, didn't you?" She reached under the desk and fumbled for the guest register. "I guess you'll only want the one night, won't you? Going on to Niagara Falls?"

  Joe didn't know what to say. Honeymooners wouldn't choose to spend a week at the Holiday Hideout.

  "We don't have much money, Mrs. — " Annie was asking for the woman's name. "Booth. Edith Booth."

  "Mrs. Booth. We can't go far. So we thought we'd find someplace clean and inexpensive and then take some day trips. I understand there are lakes near here where we can picnic."

  "Why, sure. In the morning I'll give you a map and point out the places of interest. I understand starting out broke. Why, me and Earl, that's my husband, didn't have two quarters to rub together when we got married. But if you love each other — "

  "Could I pay three nights in advance?" Joe interrupted the woman, who sounded as if she'd go on forever now that she'd decided to be friendly. "Then we'll see if we want to stay longer."

  "That'd be fine." Edith Booth handed the pen to Joe.

  He hesitated and glanced at Annie, who took his arm and smiled up at him. "Want me to write it, Joe?"

  "No." Joe quickly scribbled Mr. and Mrs. Joe Hardy. This was getting ridiculous, he thought.

  He paid cash and, after getting the key, hustled Annie out.

  She burst into laughter the minute they got into the van to drive the short distance to the room. "Oh, Joe, you should have seen your face when I pretended we were married."

  "Why did you do it, Annie?" he grumbled as he moved the van to Unit 10, the farthest from the office and the street, dark and shadowed except for the small light over the door. Mrs. Booth wanted them to have privacy.

  "It was fun, Joe. But how will I explain it when she sees me alone tomorrow, though?"

  "You can say we had our first fight and I left you because you're so conniving. Here's some money, Annie. I'll try to call every day." At least Annie's little game had made her forget about being afraid. Joe was glad for that.

  He walked Annie to her room. "I hate to leave you here alone. Some husband, huh?" he teased.

  "I'll be fine, Joe," Annie assured him. "My suitcase." She hurried back to the van. "I still think I should have left Bayport alone, though. I don't have much money, but if you'd have lent me some — what you're spending for the motel — I'd have paid you back when I got another job."

  "I want you to be able to stay in Bayport, Annie." Joe pulled her close. "Frank and I will get to the bottom of this mess. Then you can go back to work and we'll take up where we left off — Mrs. Hardy." Joe laughed.

  "Very touching," said a deep voice from the shadows. The tall man, the one Annie had so neatly disposed of, moved forward into the light. The single overhead bulb reflected off the gun that he had shoved into the small of Annie's back.

  "You couldn't have followed us!" Joe said, frustrated. He had taken every precaution. How had this man materialized out of the shadows just after they arrived?

  "I'll take those diamonds, Annie. Back away and don't try anything," he said to Joe. "Not if you want to see this girl alive in the morning."

  Chapter 11

  "I don't have any diamonds," Annie snapped.

  "But you know where they are
. I'll bet on it." The tall man pushed on Annie's shoulder so she was facing him now. There was no doubt that he was in control. "My instincts are never wrong."

  "Are you a friend of Phil's?" Annie asked.

  Joe studied this man who was so persistent and sure of himself. He didn't look like he'd be a friend of Phil Sidler's. Tall, middle-aged, graying slightly at the temples, he might have been a college professor or a businessman.

  Maybe he had found out about the robbery and decided this was an easy way to make his fortune. Or maybe he headed a rival gang and the two were fighting over this haul. That was it, Joe decided. The guy had to be a rival of Cutter's.

  Joe was trying to identify his slight accent, although he wasn't sure what good that would do.

  "Who are you?" Joe insisted.

  "A concerned party." The man pointed toward the van with the gun. When Annie didn't move right away, he gave her a quick shove with the flat of his hand.

  Joe had no choice but to climb back into the van with Annie. The tall man settled himself in the seat behind Joe and Annie so he could keep the gun trained on her.

  "Back to Bayport, Joe," he instructed. "I'll leave my rental car here."

  So he'd been watching the house and he'd followed them the whole way. Joe felt like an incompetent beginner. How had the guy done it? And how did he know where they lived? They had left him unconscious in that parking garage ! in New York City.

  Joe glanced at his gas gauge. It was approaching empty. Good. What would this man be able to do with a car out of gas on the highway in the middle of the night?

  "What good will it do us to return to Bayport?" Joe asked, trying to get the guy to talk. Maybe he'd let something slip.

  "We're going on a little treasure hunt with Annie planning the itinerary. Someone has three million dollars' worth of diamonds, and I want them."

  "Three million?" Joe whistled. No wonder the thieves were so insistent.

  "Three million?" Annie echoed.

  "It doesn't take that many diamonds if they're quality ones. They could be hidden in a very small space." Joe decided that the tall man knew what he was talking about.

  "You think Phil Sidler had them? That he really did double-cross Cutter and his men?" Joe asked.

  The man relaxed back into his seat. He seemed willing to talk, but Joe noticed that he kept the gun leveled at Annie. "Phil did have them at first," he said, "But they weren't in his hotel at Bayport or in his apartment in New York. We're still looking for them. Logic tells me that Phil either - gave them to Annie or that he told her where they were hidden."

  "How many times do I have to tell people I have no idea what's going on here?" Annie protested. "Phil told me nothing, and I certainly don't have three million dollars' worth of diamonds or I wouldn't be here."

  "If Phil had told Annie anything, she'd have told the police," said Joe. "Wouldn't you, Annie?"

  "Of course I would." Annie turned her head and stared out her window.

  Joe was not so sure. Three million dollars would tempt almost anyone, he thought. He was at a point where he didn't know what to believe, so he concentrated on driving. Until he thought of a plan, he wasn't in control of the situation, anyway.

  "Of course, it is possible that the hiding place of the jewels died with Phil," the man in the backseat said. "Who are you?" Joe asked again. "You're not in Cutter's gang. You're not a friend of Phil's. What's your connection with all this? Are you part of a tour group? Did you miss your bus?" The man smiled. He seemed pleased by Joe's defiance. "Let's just say that I'm trying to return the diamonds to their rightful owner." "And who is that?" Joe turned slightly, only to see the gun raised and aimed at him.

  This time there was no answer. They droVe a few miles in silence and then, "Slow down, Joe. Drive the minimum speed for a few miles."

  Joe sighed, resigning himself to following orders until he was in a position to disarm their passenger. He slowed the van to forty miles an hour, a mere crawl on the turnpike. There was no traffic on the highway now. The clock in the van read two a. m.

  "Can I turn on the radio?" Joe asked with some sarcasm in his voice. "Forget it," the man barked. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, Joe noticed a single pair of lights behind the van. He wondered why the car wasn't passing. No one drove forty on the turnpike — not even little old ladies.

  "Speed up," came the voice from behind him. "Drive about five miles over the speed limit but no more. We don't need the highway patrol pulling us over."

  Joe pressed his foot down on the accelerator and sped up. As he guessed it would, the car behind them kept pace.

  "Just as I thought," the tall man said, looking worried. "Trouble."

  Annie looked in the side-view mirror. All she could see were a pair of headlights. "It's Cutter," she said. "Hurry, Joe. Don't let him get me again. He threatened me before. If he catches me again, he'll kill me, Joe. I know he will.

  "Annie." She was practically hysterical. "Stay calm, Annie. I won't let them get you."

  In compliance with the tall man's orders, he continued slowing down and speeding up, sometimes placing his foot on the brake abruptly. As the cat-and-mouse game continued, Joe tried to relieve his impatience by reviewing the situation.

  He'd made a mistake bringing Annie upstate. Both of them could have been safe in the Hardys' home right then. Now it looked as if Joe might be responsible for her death—and possibly his own. If Cutter's men were following, they'd be playing hardball this time. There'd be no easy escape.

  Had their escape earlier been a farce, anyway? Had Cutter let them go, planning to tail them until Annie led him to the diamonds? Joe realized with a sudden shock that he now believed she had the jewels. He must be tired. The only thing he knew for sure was that they wouldn't stop at anything to regain that fortune.

  The next time Joe slowed down, the car behind them pulled up beside the van. The driver tried to force Joe off the road. But Joe swung left onto the shoulder, then swerved hard to the right and speeded up, leaving the other car behind.

  "Any suggestions?" Joe asked, sarcasm in his voice. "You're in charge of this little game."

  "I hadn't planned on Cutter's following us," the man answered.

  Joe was tensed for action as he sped off into the tunnel of light that his headlights cut into the dark. He pulled into the passing lane and drove faster.

  "One of them has a gun, Joe!" Annie screamed. The car had pulled up beside them on her side. "An Uzi. He's going to shoot."

  Joe didn't think the guy would shoot Annie if he believed she knew where the diamonds were. But better not take chances. Flicking a switch, he brought bulletproof panels down to cover all of the windows. Now Joe could use the van almost as a tank. He slowed, then glanced into the other lane. Speeding up, he left the smaller car far behind. Now the only thing he had to worry about was their shooting out his tires. , Annie said, glancing at Joe, "I'm starting to believe maybe you can take care of us."

  Deftly weaving from lane to lane so the guys behind him couldn't get a clear shot at his tires, Joe became aware of every muscle in his body. He hungered for action, a real confrontation to end this chase. But instead he called up his powers of patience.

  He knew that eventually the state police would have to pull him over. The way he was driving he had to attract attention — at least that was what he was hoping. And when the police did stop him, the car behind them wouldn't stick around. But with the kind of luck Joe was having lately, the trooper on duty would be taking a coffee break. Not much action in the wee hours of the morning.

  Joe pressed his speed higher and higher, continuing to weave back and forth. He guessed the guys pursuing them weren't going to shoot because they would have gotten off a couple of rounds already. They didn't want to risk Annie in an accident.

  "Good idea, Joe," the voice behind him commented. "Attracting the state police is smart. In fact, the police do seem to be the perfect answer here. Take the next exit."

  The man had to be bluffing. He couldn
't really want the law to stop them. But Joe decided that the tall man must have figured that if their action got Cutter's men off their tail, he was all for it.

  "Hang on," he said to Annie. He needn't have bothered. She was clutching the door in a death grip.

  Joe braked and took the off ramp at a speed that sent the van careening dangerously. Without stopping, he made a right-hand turn that led eventually onto the main street of a small town. The small car fell behind.

  The streets of the town were brightly lit but devoid of people. One all-night gas station was closed up tight. But they were in luck. A policeman sat in his patrol car in the parking lot of a local cafe. Probably he had been dozing or listening to his radio, but he came to life when Joe shot by.

  Light swirling, siren screaming, he pulled out after the van. Gratefully Joe pulled up to the curb, flipping a switch to roll the window shields down. He'd take the ticket gladly. He was happy, though, that Frank had been driving in New York City. Both the Hardys' driving records were getting badly tarnished by this case.

  "Tell him you want to go to the station. Say you have an incident to report. And don't try getting away — either of you," their passenger growled.

  Before Joe could react to the stranger's surprising behavior, the policeman was at his window.

  "Out for a little drive, are you?" he asked as Joe rolled his window down and handed him his license.

  "Sir, I can explain. There was an incident on the highway that I need to report. A car tried to run us off the road. My friend here and I felt we were in danger."

  "Please help us," Annie added in a voice that was filled with terror.

  The officer looked at Joe's license, then handed it back slowly. "All right. But this had better be good. Third street, turn left, second building on the right, back entrance. I'll be right behind you, so don't try any funny stuff."

  "No, sir," said Joe, and groaned with relief after the officer turned away. He'd tried all the funny stuff he knew earlier.

  "Very good, Joe. You sounded very much like a law-abiding citizen. And our friends have stopped following us."

 

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