“What a day,” Bess said glumly while Officer Jackson slid into the cruiser to broadcast her report. “First Dirk, and now this.”
“Bess,” a male voice said behind them. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”
Nancy and Bess turned to see Dirk Walters coming down the restaurant stairs. The brunette was right beside him. Dirk hopped down the last three steps and came to stand in front of Bess.
“Why the cop?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”
“My car was stolen,” Bess told him.
“Stolen! Are you sure?”
Nancy nodded. “We checked the entire lot,” she told him. “Plus the manager told us it wasn’t the first one that’s been stolen from this area.”
Dirk gave a low whistle. “That’s awful.”
“Awful doesn’t begin to describe it,” Bess said. “It was brand-new! At least to me. My first car.” Her lower lip began to tremble.
Dirk took her hand. “Hey, cheer up. I bet a couple of kids just ‘borrowed’ it for a joyride. The cops will probably find it across town.”
“Uh, Dirk, I have to go,” the brunette suddenly said. She was still standing on the steps.
Nancy noticed that the woman was a little older than they were—maybe in her mid-twenties—and very attractive. Her face was already tan and was carefully made up, and she wore a rose-colored silk dress with a soft, flowing skirt. Nancy detected a hardness in the woman’s brown eyes, and frown lines had already formed on her brow.
“Oh, sorry.” Dirk sprang back up the stairs. Taking the woman’s elbow, he escorted her over to Nancy and Bess. “Kitty Lambert, this is Bess Marvin and Nancy Drew. I went to high school with them.”
“Nice to meet you,” Nancy said.
Bess gave Kitty a forced smile. She wasn’t happy about meeting Dirk’s date.
“Kitty’s going to crew for me the next couple of races,” Dirk said enthusiastically. “Isn’t that great?”
“Yeah, great,” Bess echoed flatly. She was curiously eyeing the brunette.
Kitty gave them a polite smile. “Nice meeting you, but I have to run. Sorry about your car, Bess. See you Friday, Dirk,” she called over her shoulder. She walked quickly across the parking lot to a white Firebird and got in.
Dirk waved as Kitty drove away, then turned to grin at Nancy and Bess. “Imagine, Kitty Lambert, the best mechanic around, crewing for me.”
“She’s a mechanic?” Bess asked.
Dirk nodded. “The best. I’m still not sure why she agreed to work for me. Lots of the hotshot drivers want her. The only thing I can figure is that she’s got a thing for my older brother, Jake.”
Bess shot Nancy a relieved look. “Or maybe she figures you’ll be the next Grand Prix champion,” she suggested brightly.
Dirk chuckled. “Actually, that’s a different kind of racing from drag racing.”
“Sounds like I have a lot to learn,” Bess added. She opened her mouth to say something else but stopped when Officer Jackson came over.
“The report is in, so all the patrol cars in the area will be notified,” the officer told them. “The auto theft unit will contact you as soon as they learn anything. In the meantime, make sure you call your insurance company.”
“Do you two need a ride home?” Dirk asked.
“Thanks, but I have my car here,” Nancy replied.
“Then I’d better be going.” Turning to Bess, he asked, “Walk me to my car a second? It’s right over there.”
As they walked away, Nancy said to Officer Jackson, “The manager told us that some other cars were stolen from this area recently.”
The policewoman nodded, putting her pad back into her shirt pocket. “Two others to be exact. They were taken from the main parking lot across the street last weekend. We’ve stepped up our patrols, but the thieves have eluded us so far.”
“But why this riverfront area?” Nancy asked.
“Who knows?” Officer Jackson shrugged. “My guess is that most of the people who are attracted to the nightclub and restaurants here are young people, and young people generally like sporty cars. The thieves know the owners will be inside dancing and eating so they’ll have plenty of time to break in and steal a car. Plus, this lot isn’t very well lighted. We’ve already spoken to the owners about the problem. They’ve agreed to do something about it, but it’ll take a while.”
Bess rejoined them, a faint smile on her face, and Nancy couldn’t help smiling, too. Obviously, the budding romance with Dirk was back on track.
“Officer Jackson was telling me about the other thefts in the area,” Nancy explained to Bess.
“So what are the odds of finding my car?” Bess asked.
“Oh, the odds are good,” Officer Jackson told her. “About ninety percent of all stolen cars are recovered.”
“That’s terrific!” Bess exclaimed.
“Well, not so terrific.” The policewoman became very serious. “Usually by the time the cars are found, they’ve either been burned, wrecked, or are in pieces.”
Chapter
Three
YOU MEAN I may never see my Camaro in one piece again?” Bess asked, her face falling.
Officer Jackson nodded. “Unfortunately. If it was stolen by a professional, your car’s probably in a chop shop by now.”
Seeing Bess’s confused expression, the officer went on to explain. “A chop shop is where a thief can get rid of a stolen car. The shops dismantle the cars or repaint them. Then they resell them whole or as parts.”
“Don’t tell me any more,” Bess groaned and covered her ears. “It’s all too awful!”
Officer Jackson smiled sympathetically. “Well, I’ve got to go,” she said. “Call the station if you have any questions or want to check on the progress of the investigation. Ask for Detective Quinones. He’s in charge of auto theft.”
The girls thanked the police officer. After the cruiser had driven away, Nancy turned to Bess.
“Come on. While you’re standing there, some kid could be joyriding in your car. If we leave now, we may even catch him.”
Bess’s outlook brightened. “You think so?”
“Well, there’s always a chance.”
“Then let’s go!” Bess grabbed Nancy’s arm and pulled her toward the side lot where the Mustang was parked. “Just wait till I get hold of the creep who stole my car,” she said angrily. “I’ll—”
“Call the police?” Nancy suggested.
Bess giggled. “Probably.”
Nancy unlocked the car doors, and she and Bess slid in. “So did you and Dirk make up?” Nancy asked.
“Yeah. In fact, he invited me to lunch tomorrow. I think he knew I was a little bent out of shape about Kitty.” Bess’s smile faded as she added, “But believe it or not, my mind’s not on Dirk right now. I only want to find my car.”
Nancy drove out of the parking lot and up the winding road away from the river to the main highway. After rolling down the window, she propped her elbow on the door. Warm spring air blew into the car and ruffled her reddish blond hair.
“Let’s think. If you were a kid joyriding in a hot Camaro, where would you go?” she wondered.
“I’d head straight for the action,” Bess said without hesitating.
“And where’s the action in River Heights?” Nancy asked Bess.
“The mall!” they chorused together.
“So let’s try there first. We’re only about five minutes away,” said Nancy. She checked her watch. “It’s nine. The mall closes at nine-thirty, so the parking lot should be starting to thin out.”
Bess crossed her fingers. “Let’s hope whoever took my car just left it there.”
“Yeah, let’s hope.” Nancy was glad they had decided to search for the Camaro. It was better than doing nothing, and it seemed to have lifted Bess’s spirits. Deep down, Nancy knew the chances of finding the car were pretty slim, but she just didn’t have the heart to tell Bess.
As Nancy pulled the Mustang into the ma
ll’s huge parking lot, Bess rolled down her window and stuck her head out. The two girls scanned the cars as they cruised slowly up and down each row.
Twenty minutes later Bess let out a breath in a loud sigh of frustration. “This is crazy,” she grumbled. “My neck’s got a kink in it, and there’s no sign of my car. I think we’re on a wild-goose chase.”
“Do you want to give up?” Nancy asked.
“No. It’s just that—Hey, look over there!” Bess straightened up and pointed out the front window of the Mustang. A yellow Camaro was backing out of a parking space.
“Hold on!” Nancy said, stepping on the gas.
The Camaro started to pull forward just as Nancy swung her car around, blocking its path. She then stomped on the brakes. The car had barely stopped before Bess opened her door and jumped out.
“Bess!” Nancy called, throwing open her own door. “Be careful. The person could be dangerous!”
Her warning came too late. In two strides, Bess had already reached the driver’s side of the Camaro.
Nancy raced after her—then did a quick double take as the window on the Camaro was slowly cranked down. A white-haired woman was in the driver’s seat. Not only that, but the Camaro’s interior was blue instead of brown.
“Is something the matter?” the elderly woman asked in a quavering voice. There was a puzzled expression on her wrinkled face.
“Uh . . .” Bess stammered. “We’re looking for—It’s just that—”
“My friend thought you were her grandmother,” Nancy fibbed. “Sorry—our mistake.”
The woman nodded. “That’s all right.” She waved cheerfully before putting the car in reverse and stepping on the gas. With a squeal of the tires, the Camaro whipped back into an empty parking space. Nancy and Bess jumped out of the way as the Camaro lurched forward again, narrowly missing them before it sped down the aisle away from the Mustang.
“See the way she’s driving?” Bess sputtered. “She can’t be an elderly lady. She’s a thief in disguise—and you’re letting her get away!”
Nancy laughed. “Relax. That wasn’t your car. It had blue seats. Plus the window wasn’t broken.”
“I knew that,” Bess retorted with an embarrassed laugh. “I just got carried away.”
“Next time be a little more cautious before charging up to a car,” Nancy said as they climbed back into the Mustang. “If that had been the kid who stole your car, he might’ve been dangerous.”
Bess nodded thoughtfully. “I didn’t think about that. You’re right. Well, where should we go now?”
Nancy started the Mustang again and headed down the last row of the parking lot. “I hate to say it, but how about home? It’s getting late, and I’m kind of beat.”
Seeing Bess’s disappointed expression, Nancy quickly added, “Not that I’m giving up or anything. It’s just that—”
“There’s no way we’re going to find my car,” Bess finished dejectedly.
“It is pretty unlikely,” Nancy admitted. “How about if we check out the Loft and Commotion on the way home?” she suggested, hoping to cheer Bess up. “They’re hot high-school hangouts. Maybe a kid took your car so he could party at one of those places.”
Nancy pulled out of the parking lot and headed for Commotion. She stopped at the first traffic light just as it was turning red. A yellow car waiting on the right side for the light to turn green caught her eye. It was a yellow Camaro.
Nancy nudged her friend. “Look. Check out the plates when it passes by us.”
Bess leaned forward as the Camaro drove under the traffic light and continued straight. Nancy and Bess couldn’t read the faint tags, but they could tell that they were black and white, like Bess’s dealer plates.
“That’s got to be my car!” Bess said excitedly.
Nancy’s light turned green, and she flipped on her left turn signal. “Let’s follow it.” She made a sharp turn and almost caught up to the Camaro. There was a light blue sedan between the two cars.
“We’ve got to get beside it, to see if the window’s broken,” Bess said determinedly.
“Maybe you can see what color the seat covers are,” Nancy added.
Just then the light blue sedan turned off the road. Nancy sped up until she was right behind the Camaro. Then she glanced into the left lane of the two-lane road.
“There are no cars coming,” she told Bess. “I’m going to pull up beside the Camaro. You check it out—but do it quickly!”
Stepping harder on the gas pedal, Nancy shot into the left lane and zoomed up next to the Camaro. Bess stuck her head out the open window. Nancy looked over just in time to see the driver turn his head and stare at them in surprise. He was a guy about their age, with red hair pulled back in a ponytail.
“Mud brown! That’s my car!” Bess called out.
At the exact same time the Camaro’s motor gave a loud roar, and the car burst ahead of them. Nancy angled back into the right lane and tried to keep up with the yellow sports car.
“The dashboard and seats were definitely brown,” Bess said excitedly. “I couldn’t tell about the window. It was rolled down.”
“That guy wasn’t too pleased that we were interested in him, either,” Nancy added, her eyes still on the car up ahead. “Let’s keep following and find out where he’s headed.”
Just then the Camaro did a quick U-turn, its tires squealing as the rear end fishtailed.
“Hey, careful with my car!” Bess yelled out the window. Then she steadied herself against the dashboard as Nancy cut the wheel hard to the left.
“Hold on!” Nancy shouted, swinging the Mustang around. “I don’t want to lose him.”
She could see the yellow Camaro about a quarter mile ahead. Fortunately, there wasn’t any traffic, so Nancy went the speed limit trying to catch up to the yellow Camaro.
Soon they were driving into an area with which they weren’t very familiar. Large warehouses loomed over the dark streets, which were illuminated only by an occasional street lamp.
“Where are we?” Bess asked worriedly.
“The industrial section of town,” Nancy replied. “Lock your door.”
Up ahead, the Camaro made an abrupt right turn. Nancy flicked on her blinker and wheeled the Mustang after it.
“Nancy, look.” Bess pointed to a sign as they turned the corner. “It’s a dead end. We’ve got him now!”
Nancy’s heart sank a moment later. She could see to the end of the street, but the Camaro was nowhere in sight.
Slowing her Mustang, Nancy cruised down the street. Both sides were lined with huge warehouses with loading docks jutting off them. Stacks of empty crates and boxes were piled high against the walls of several of the buildings. Except for two large tractor trailers parked beside one ramp, the area was empty of cars and trucks.
At the end of the street, which was bordered by a chain-link fence, Nancy turned the Mustang around and stopped.
“I don’t get it,” Bess said, gazing back the way they had come. “Where’d my car go?”
“I don’t know. There aren’t any alleys or side streets, and it certainly looks as if everything’s closed for the night.” Nancy shook her head in frustration. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say your car disappeared into thin air!”
Chapter
Four
HOW COULD my car just disappear?” Bess asked.
Nancy thoughtfully studied the rows of dark warehouses. “I bet the driver pulled into one of these buildings.”
“He disappeared so fast, though,” Bess said.
“Which means he knew exactly where he was going and the door must have been open,” Nancy guessed.
Bess’s blue eyes widened as she realized what Nancy was getting at. “You think the chop shop is in one of these buildings?”
“Could be. The question is, which one?”
“Well, we’ll just search them all and find out,” Bess said firmly. She opened the car door, but Nancy caught her arm and pulled her back.
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“Not so fast. Auto theft is big business, Bess. If anyone catches us snooping around, we might find ourselves in a whole lot of trouble.”
Shivering, Bess closed and relocked the car door. “So now what?”
Nancy stepped on the gas and began driving back down the dead-end street. “We find out exactly where we are now, then call the police,” she told Bess.
The girls didn’t see any street signs at the intersection. “We can use the Pacific Trucking Company and Illinois Overseas signs as landmarks,” Nancy suggested, pointing to the buildings on either side of the intersection. She turned left, heading back the way they’d come.
“Look. That street sign says Twelfth, and there’s Fourteenth,” Bess added. “So the dead end must be about Tenth.”
They drove until they were once again on the main highway, busy with late-night traffic. At a well-lit gas station, Nancy spotted a phone booth. They parked next to it and got out of the car.
“Let’s hope they’ll let us speak to someone in auto theft,” Nancy said, dialing the River Heights police. She told the dispatcher that she had some information about a stolen car and asked to speak to Detective Quinones, the man Officer Jackson had said was in charge of auto theft.
The dispatcher told her that the detective wasn’t available and instructed her to come in first thing in the morning to file a report.
“In the morning!” Bess wailed after Nancy hung up. “By then my car will be in a hundred pieces!”
“Maybe not.” Nancy tried to reassure her. “It’s late, and all those warehouses seemed deserted. Probably the guy with the red ponytail just drops off the cars he steals at night. The Camaro might not get worked on until tomorrow.”
“Let’s hope so,” Bess said, “because I’ll be furious if all they recover tomorrow is my ugly brown dashboard!”
• • •
“This is the office of the auto theft unit?” Bess whispered dubiously to Nancy the next morning. The two girls had paused outside a small, dingy room on the top floor of the River Heights police station.