“As you know, our investigation into the recent auto thefts hasn’t been going well—at least not as well as I’d like.” Reaching over, he swiped at a cobweb clinging to his rubber plant. “Well, this morning I had a long meeting with Chief McGinnis, and we discussed several things.”
Finally Quinones looked up at Nancy. “He said you were a friend of his, Nancy. He also said you were a crackerjack detective, and that I should enlist your help in tracking down the car thieves.”
Nancy could tell that Quinones wasn’t happy with the chief’s suggestion. “I’m not sure I understand,” she said. “Last night I was only trying to help Bess get her car back. We didn’t mean to get involved in your investigation.”
“I know,” Quinones said with a nod. “But now there are—complications.”
“Like what?” Bess asked, puzzled.
“First thing this morning I checked with the lab,” said Quinones. “They told me that no fingerprints were found on the slim jim.”
Nancy sat up straight. “But that’s impossible!” she exclaimed. “You saw those greasy marks on it yourself. There had to be prints.”
Detective Quinones was very sober. “The labs boys tell me that somebody wiped the slim jim clean.”
“But who would do that?” Bess asked, her blue eyes opening wide. “And why?”
Nancy’s mind was racing. “The same person who could tip off the thieves about when the cops would be patrolling the riverfront area,” she said.
“Nobody knows about the patrols except the cops, right?” said Bess, confused.
Nancy nodded. If what she was thinking was correct, this was very serious.
“Someone’s sabotaging your investigation in order to help the thieves, right?” Nancy guessed.
Detective Quinones’s face told Nancy that she was correct.
“Since the saboteur was able to wipe the slim jim clean,” she went on, “that means there’s a bad cop in the police department.”
Chapter
Seven
DETECTIVE QUINONES nervously ran his fingers through his dark hair.
“None of us likes to believe there’s a bad cop on the force,” he said, looking at Nancy and Bess, “but several other things have happened to make me suspicious. The slim jim only confirmed it.”
Quinones cleared his throat and added, “I hope you’ll be able to help me out, Nancy. Of course, if you run into Stan or B.D. your explanation will be that you’re only helping Bess get her car back.”
Bess’s blue eyes opened wide. “You don’t suspect that it’s one of them?”
“B.D. handled the evidence bag last, but it could be anyone,” the detective said wearily. “I’ve been taking precautions to stop whoever it is. I even changed last night’s stakeout plans at the last minute. Every time we’ve had a surveillance before, the thieves have hit somewhere totally different. That made me suspect a leak.”
Nancy leaned forward excitedly. “There’s something else, too. Stan and B.D. both heard us say we were going to the warehouse yesterday,” she said. “They could have warned the people there.”
“Then it isn’t Dirk,” Bess said, brightening.
Quinones raised his brows. “Dirk?”
“Oops!” Bess’s hand flew to her mouth.
Nancy explained who Dirk was and why they thought he might have warned the people at the chop shop.
“He might be in on the ring,” Quinones said. “We’ve had our eye on the racetrack. Some parts from stolen cars have shown up there, though we haven’t been able to trace them to anyone.”
He reached for a pencil and pad. “Let me get some information on this Dirk fellow.”
“If he’s innocent, nothing will happen,” Nancy reassured Bess.
“If he’s guilty, we need to catch him,” Detective Quinones stated. “As for the bad cop, you leave that problem to me.”
Bess and Nancy told the detective all they knew about Dirk. “We’re going to the drag strip this afternoon,” Nancy finished.
Quinones nodded. “Good place for you to start your investigation. Be sure you call me at the slightest sign that something’s not right. Here’s my card. I’ll write my home number on the back.”
Nancy saw his face harden as he noticed something behind her. “Hawkins!” Detective Quinones snapped. “Did the lab find anything about the fingerprints?”
Nancy and Bess whipped around to see the younger detective entering the outer office. B.D. shook his head. “Nope. Said they’re understaffed today and it’ll take a while. Typical.”
Quinones must have arranged with the lab to keep the results a secret, Nancy realized.
“The girls were just giving me a detailed description of the thief,” Quinones said. With a significant look at Nancy and Bess, he added, “Now they’re leaving.”
Quickly Nancy and Bess stood up, said goodbye, and left the office. When they got outside, Bess turned to Nancy. “I feel like I’ve been plunked down in the middle of some police movie.”
“I know what you mean,” Nancy agreed. “I wanted to ask some more questions, but there wasn’t time.”
“Speaking of time,” said Bess, “Dirk told us to meet him at the track at two o’clock.”
Nancy checked her watch. “It’s only eleven-thirty.”
“Right,” Bess said. “That gives me less than three hours to shower, pick out an outfit, fix my hair—”
Nancy laughed. “You must really want to knock Dirk’s socks off.”
“You’ve got that right,” Bess said. “I like the guy. No matter what you think, I know he’s not involved in all this. He’s just too nice to do something so rotten.”
“Well, you still need to be careful,” Nancy warned. “I don’t want my best friend getting involved with a car thief.”
• • •
“This is the racetrack?” Bess asked that afternoon as she drove the silver convertible down a dirt road into a field crowded with cars. The top was down, and dust billowed around the girls.
Glancing around, Nancy said, “I think it’s called a drag strip.”
“So what’s the difference?” Bess asked, checking herself in the rearview mirror. “Oh no! Look at my hair. It’s a rat’s nest.” She parked the car, then took a brush out of her purse and began brushing out the tangles in her blond hair.
Nancy was glad she’d decided to put her hair back in a French braid. Peeking into the side mirror, she brushed back a few wayward strands.
“Oh no. Here comes Dirk, and my hair’s still a wreck,” Bess moaned.
Nancy turned and saw Dirk striding across the grass toward them. He was wearing faded jeans, a light blue T-shirt, and a baseball cap. A tall guy was walking next to him, and Nancy recognized him as Kitty Lambert’s date from the night of the stakeout. He was a little heavier than Dirk, but they both had the same sun-streaked hair and green eyes.
“You look great.” Nancy quickly reassured Bess as they got out of the car.
Bess smoothed out the pale yellow stretch pants and oversize yellow-and white-striped T-shirt she was wearing. “You think so?”
“Hey, you made it,” Dirk said, giving Bess a hug.
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Bess said.
The other guy stepped over to Nancy. “Hi. I’m Jake Walters, Dirk’s older, bigger, and smarter brother,” he said. Taking her hand, he gave it a warm squeeze.
“I’m Nancy,” she said.
“And I’m Bess.”
“Glad to meet you, Nancy and Bess,” Jake said, flashing Nancy a brilliant smile.
What a flirt, Nancy thought. It made her wonder how serious Jake and Kitty Lambert were.
Around them, people were leaning over the chain-link fence or sitting on the nearby grass. A small concession stand stood opposite the starting line. Some buildings that were probably maintenance sheds or garages dotted the surrounding area. The entire perimeter was bordered by cornfields.
Nancy glanced idly around. The track was informal and crowded
. It would probably be easy for anyone to come in and sell hot auto parts without attracting attention.
“So where’s the oval track?” Bess asked curiously as the four of them started across the parking lot.
“There isn’t one. There’s only a straight, quarter-mile track,” Dirk explained. He pointed to a short stretch of road lined with a chain-link fence. “In drag racing, two cars speed down a straight track as fast as they can. The car with the fastest time wins.”
Bess paused, confusion on her face. “I thought there’d be—”
A deafening roar drowned out her words. Nancy clapped her hands to her ears as two cars tore down the track, their rear ends jacked up and their huge back tires spinning. When they reached the finish line, parachutes burst from the back to slow them.
“Those are Funny Cars,” Dirk explained when the noise died down. “Race cars that have been radically modified. Those babies can go over two hundred miles an hour.”
“If you ask me, they should be called Noisy Cars,” Bess said, laughing. “Is that what you race?”
Dirk shook his head. “Nope. I race stock cars. They’re regular cars that are finely tuned for the best performance possible. They’re still pretty noisy, though.”
They passed the concession stand, then crossed the end of the track, where two more Funny Cars were being checked over for the next race. Just beyond was a fenced-off field crowded with trucks, cars, vans, trailers, and people.
“That’s the pit area,” Jake explained. A man in greasy overalls stood at the entrance to the field. Seeing Dirk and Jake, he waved the foursome in.
The brothers led Nancy and Bess to a neon green Firebird. Big D’s Dynomite was written across the side in bright orange scroll letters.
“This is it,” Dirk announced proudly.
Bess patted the hood. “She’s a beauty!”
“Little brother had his test drive a while ago,” Jake spoke up. “The Big D ran great. He should kill the competition.”
Dirk shrugged, but his excited smile told Nancy that he felt pretty confident, too. “My race isn’t until the end of the day, so we’ll have some time together.”
“Great,” Bess said. “You can teach us all about drag racing.” Her yellow pants were already smudged with dirt, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“Any news on the Camaro?” Dirk asked Bess.
He seemed genuinely concerned, but Nancy shot Bess a cautioning glance. They had agreed not to tell Dirk that they were officially involved in the case.
“There’s not much news,” Bess said. “But the police did almost catch the guy I told you about—the one we’re pretty sure stole my car. The one with long red hair in a ponytail.”
Dirk suddenly frowned. “A red ponytail?” he repeated. “Why didn’t you tell me? Are you sure?” Nancy had the feeling Bess’s description rang a bell with Dirk.
Suddenly a loud clank caught Nancy’s attention. She peered around the far side of Dirk’s car. Jeans-clad legs were sticking out from underneath. Just as Nancy bent down to see who it was, a woman pulled herself from under the car.
It took Nancy a second to recognize Kitty Lambert. Kitty’s long brown hair was tucked under a cap, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup.
“Hi,” Nancy said. “You probably don’t remember me. I’m Dirk’s friend, Nancy Drew. We met at the Riverside the other night.”
“Oh, right. Hi,” Kitty said distractedly. She pulled a metal tool tray from under the car. “Dirk, your torque wrench isn’t working. I’ll go get mine.” She brushed off her jeans and walked away.
“Kitty, wait up,” Jake called out, jogging after the brunette.
“Listen,” Dirk said abruptly, “I have to get a part for the Big D. Why don’t you two watch the Funny Cars race? There’s a good view from that grassy hilltop. It overlooks the finish line. I’ll meet you there in a couple of minutes.”
“Great,” Bess said as Dirk waved distractedly and walked off.
As Nancy and Bess headed for the hilltop Dirk had indicated, they passed several groups that had spread out blankets and set up lawn chairs.
“These yellow pants are going to be covered with grass and oil stains by the end of the day,” Bess said with a resigned sigh as they found a spot on the hill. “But it’s worth it. So what do you think about Jake?”
“He’s nice, but I’m not sure I understand him,” Nancy answered. “First he turned on the charm with me, and then he ran after Kitty.” Shaking her head, she added, “I guess he’s just an incurable flirt.”
She stopped talking while two more cars roared down the track. As they waited for the next run, Nancy looked down into the pit area. From their perch on top of the hill, she and Bess could see everything. Nancy’s gaze traveled over to the concession stand, where Kitty and Jake were standing. Kitty picked up something from the booth, then with a wave to Jake, left.
Nancy watched idly as Kitty made her way through the cars toward a man who was working on a motorcycle. When the man stood up, Nancy’s eyes widened. He was huge! Kitty talked to him a second, then strode down a hill to a large, crudely built, garagelike structure.
“There’s Dirk.” Bess nudged Nancy, then pointed to a pickup truck in the parking lot. The truck had a cap enclosing the entire truck bed. “He’s even cute from far away.”
Dirk was talking to someone he was standing in front of and blocking. Nancy watched as Dirk pulled his wallet out of his pocket. The other person’s hands shot out to open up the rear door in the cap and then reached in.
Nancy gasped when Dirk stepped back, revealing the other man. “Bess, look at that guy next to Dirk. He’s got a red ponytail!”
Chapter
Eight
NANCY JUMPED to her feet. “He could be the same guy who stole your car,” she said excitedly.
“He’s here at the racetrack?” Bess asked, following Nancy’s gaze.
“I think so,” Nancy told her. She started down the hill toward the truck. “I’m going to check it out.”
Bess scrambled to her feet, but Nancy stopped her. “You’d better wait here. We don’t want to make him suspicious.”
Nancy jogged quickly down the hill to where Dirk and the guy with the red ponytail were standing. When she reached Dirk’s side, she smiled cheerfully.
“Hi! I need to use a phone. Do you know where I can find one?” she asked. She glanced casually at the guy with the red hair, but his back was to her as he hunted for something in his pickup.
Dirk’s eyes darted nervously around. “Uh, yeah,” he replied. “It’s next to the concession stand.”
Just then the guy with the ponytail straightened up. “I’ve got just what you need,” he said. Turning around, he handed Dirk a small plastic envelope.
When his eyes met Nancy’s, a tiny flicker of fear crossed his face. Nancy knew she had him. She’d found the car thief! She had to call Detective Quinones and tell him right away.
“Uh, thanks,” Nancy told Dirk. “I’d better hurry—I don’t want to miss another Funny Car race.”
With that, she darted off for the pay phone. A girl was already using the phone, so Nancy paced alongside the concession stand while she waited.
The face, the ponytail, the red hair . . . It was definitely the same guy she and Bess had seen twice before. Besides, it seemed obvious that he was selling car parts, and she was willing to bet that at least some of those parts were stolen.
Nancy stopped pacing for a moment as another thought occurred to her. If the parts were stolen, did Dirk know? Did he know the guy with the ponytail was a car thief?
Thinking back, Nancy remembered that Dirk had acted a little uncomfortable when Bess mentioned the guy with a red ponytail. Just now, he’d acted nervous, too. Maybe Dirk was working with him. Maybe he was warning him about Nancy.
Hurry up, Nancy silently urged the girl in the phone booth. After she called Detective Quinones, she wanted to get a peek at the parts in the back of the pickup. It was really a long shot, she knew, bu
t maybe she’d recognize something from Bess’s car. Then she’d have better evidence the parts were stolen.
Finally the girl hung up, and Nancy darted in and grabbed the phone. She left a message for Detective Quinones with the dispatcher, then hung up and took a deep breath. She had to keep cool.
The guy with the ponytail obviously recognized her, but if he thought she hadn’t recognized him, maybe he wouldn’t panic and bolt.
Nancy glanced back at the parking lot. She could just make out the guy with the ponytail locking the door of his truck cap. After looking around, he headed for the garagelike building Kitty Lambert had disappeared into.
Nancy walked casually in the direction of the building, keeping a close watch on the guy. He opened the side door and disappeared inside the building.
What was he doing in there? Nancy wondered. She hurried down a low dirt slope to the back of the building and crouched beneath a small, boarded-up window.
“You didn’t tell me someone almost caught you!” a woman’s shrill voice said from inside the building.
A guy murmured something. Then Nancy heard the woman’s voice again, only this time, the roar of an engine drowned out her words.
Nancy inched slowly along the wall to the side, where it sounded as if the voices were coming from. Then she peered around the corner. Suddenly the side door was flung open and Kitty Lambert ran out, a wrench clasped in her hand.
So the woman with the shrill voice was Kitty! She must have been talking to the red-haired guy. Nancy watched as Kitty strode back to the pit area and Dirk’s car. Nancy didn’t see Dirk, though.
Turning her attention back to the building, she listened for the red-haired guy. There was no sound from inside the building. Nancy knew he had to be in there because she would have seen him if he’d come out the only door that she’d noticed.
Perfect, Nancy thought, smiling to herself. As long as he’s in there, I might as well sneak a peek into the back of his truck.
Stepping away from the garage, Nancy checked to see where Dirk and Kitty were. Kitty was standing by Big D’s Dynomite, talking to Jake. Nancy then spotted Dirk sitting with Bess on top of the hill. Good, the coast was clear.