Suddenly Nancy hesitated. Maybe she shouldn’t mention the evidence tape. She’d let Quinones identify it himself. Then he could decide if it implicated Hawkins or not. “I found something I want you to see.”
“Well, it’ll have to wait till morning,” Detective Quinones said. “Homicide just called with something I have to check on right away. I’ll meet you at the station tomorrow morning at eight-thirty.”
“All right,” Nancy agreed. “See you then.”
• • •
“I’m exhausted,” Bess said when Nancy picked her up at home. “I didn’t get to bed last night until after one.”
Nancy smiled at her friend. “I’m kind of beat, too.”
“Oh—Dirk asked if we could pick him up on our way,” Bess added. “I told him about Hawkins following us, and he said he wants to come to the police station, too,” Bess told Nancy. “He said something about finding the creeps that did in the Big D.”
“I guess that means Dirk’s feeling better,” Nancy said with a laugh.
“He’s really upset about his car, though,” Bess said. She let out a sigh. “I can’t help thinking about the Camaro, too. I know it’s probably in a million pieces by now, but I keep hoping we’ll find it.”
Dirk was waiting on the porch when the girls arrived at his house. He was sitting on the steps, the protective collar still around his neck.
“How are you?” Nancy asked him.
“Great,” he replied. “I don’t feel any pain, but the doctor told me to leave this on for a few days just to be safe.”
Fifteen minutes later the three teenagers entered the auto theft office at the police station. Stan Powderly was there and greeted them with a tired smile. His suit was rumpled, and two half-empty containers of coffee were on his desk.
“Change of plans. Raul called about half an hour ago,” he said, getting up to close the outside door. “We don’t need anyone overhearing this,” he added in a low voice.
“Where’s Detective Quinones?” Nancy asked, as she, Bess, and Dirk sat down. She was instantly alert. She didn’t like the idea that he wasn’t there. She also didn’t want to tell Powderly about the evidence tape before showing it to Quinones.
Powderly was grim. “Raul’s still over at the garage at the racetrack. Early this morning, homicide called him. Seems they found something that—” He paused, a frown of uncertainty on his face. “I guess I can tell you this,” he finally said. “Raul confided in me that you were working on the case, Nancy. Anyway, they found something that definitely implicates Detective Hawkins in the murder of Jimmy Sandia.”
Bess drew in her breath sharply. “So we were right!” she exclaimed softly.
“What did they find?” Nancy asked.
“Homicide found a partial boot print in the dirt near the tractor where Jimmy was murdered. They matched it to Hawk’s cowboy boot.”
“What does that prove?” Dirk wanted to know. “I mean, Hawkins is part of the investigating team. It makes sense that his print would be there.”
Nancy snapped her fingers. “But he didn’t show up until after the homicide people had sealed off the scene,” she said, remembering. “By then Detective Quinones had everyone stay clear so that they wouldn’t mess up evidence.”
“Wow!” Bess exclaimed.
“Yeah, wow,” Stan echoed dryly. “And all this time I thought B.D. was working with us.”
“So why would Hawkins murder Jimmy Sandia?” Nancy asked. She still didn’t want Powderly to know how much she’d already learned.
Stan gave a tired sigh, shaking his head. “Raul told me this morning that someone on the force is working with the auto thieves,” he explained. “Right away I thought of Hawk. He hasn’t been himself lately—as if he’s not part of the team anymore. Plus he’s so cocky. I bet he thinks he can do it all—even break the law—and not get caught.”
So Detective Quinones had finally confided in Powderly, Nancy thought. The boot print must have made him certain that the bad cop was Hawkins.
“What are you and Detective Quinones going to do now?” Bess asked, twisting a strand of blond hair between her fingers.
“Well, we’ve cooked up a plan to catch Hawkins in action,” Powderly replied. He fixed each of the teenagers with a serious look, then said, “And you three are going to be part of it.”
“Great!” Dirk sat up, excited. “Does it involve some fast driving?”
Shooting Dirk a stern glance, Bess said, “Hey! You just got out of the hospital, remember?”
“It’s nothing that exciting,” Detective Powderly said quickly. “Nancy, your job will be to call Hawkins and tell him you’ve located the warehouse. Tell him you can’t find Raul or me, and ask him to meet you there.”
“Where? I mean, we don’t know exactly which warehouse it is,” Nancy said.
The detective gave a small smile. “I had the uniformed cops keep an eye on the street where you and Bess followed Jimmy Sandia. They’ve reported some unusual activity that narrows it down to R. H. Shipping.”
“That makes sense,” Bess commented. “That’s where those goons were on the loading dock.”
Nancy nodded. So far the plan sounded solid.
“Nancy, you can tell Hawkins that Kitty Lambert told you R. H. Shipping is where Jimmy took the stolen cars,” Powderly continued. “That should convince him to meet you there.”
“Sounds good,” said Nancy. “What should we do when we get there?”
Detective Powderly picked up a small tape recorder from his desk and handed it to her. “First of all you’ll be carrying this. You need to get Hawk to confess to something incriminating. Raul and I figured he’d tell you more than he’d ever confess to us. So play it by ear. Raul and I and several other plainclothes officers will be hiding nearby, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Wow. Cops and robbers,” Dirk put in excitedly. “Sounds good to me.”
“Me, too,” Bess said. “I can’t wait to see Hawkins and his chop shop buddies get caught. This’ll show him that nobody steals my car and gets away with it.”
Stan laughed. “Leave the rough stuff to the police, Ms. Marvin. You just need to get Hawk to confess something that will lead us to the others. As far as he goes, the boot print and scrap of evidence tape will put him away for a long time.”
Nancy frowned as the detective’s words sank in, reverberating in her mind.
Evidence tape. She hadn’t told anyone about the tape. There was only one way Detective Powderly could know about it. And that was if he’d been the one to take the tape off the evidence bag and plant the tape in B.D.’s car. The bad cop on the force wasn’t B. D. Hawkins—it was Stan Powderly!
Chapter
Fourteen
NANCY’S MIND began to whirl. She never would have believed that Stan Powderly could be so devious. He had set up Hawkins to take the fall for everything—including murder.
Thinking back to the night before, Nancy realized that it was possible that Powderly, and not Hawkins, had been behind the wheel of Hawkins’s car. If that was true, maybe Powderly knew that she followed him—right to the warehouse.
Maybe that was why it had been so easy to get into the car. Stan had wanted her to find the evidence tape, figuring that she’d report it to Quinones. But what about the boot print homicide had found in the garage? Had Powderly planted that, too?
Suddenly Nancy felt as if a huge weight were pressing down on her shoulders. Powderly was setting them all up now, with his warehouse plan—she knew it. One wrong move could put them all in jeopardy. The only thing on their side was the fact that Stan didn’t know she was onto him.
“Nancy, did you hear what I said?” Bess asked, drawing Nancy’s attention back to the little cubicle.
“What? Oh—sorry, Bess,” Nancy said quickly, not daring to look at Powderly.
“I was saying, we’d better get a move on,” Bess told her. “We’ve got a criminal to catch!”
“That’s for sure,” Nancy murm
ured.
Powderly lifted the phone receiver. “Sunday is Hawk’s day off,” he said, “so he’ll be home. Remember what you should say?”
Nancy nodded. “That Kitty told us where the warehouse was and he’s to meet us there.”
“Right,” Stan said approvingly. “And make sure you mention that you couldn’t find Raul or me.”
Nancy tapped her foot nervously as Stan punched in the phone number. He handed her the receiver as a young child answered the phone with a loud hello. “Daddy, it’s for you!” Nancy heard the boy call.
“Yeah.” Hawkins’s voice was curt.
“Hi. It’s Nancy Drew,” she said over the line. Then she told him the story Powderly had concocted. “I wasn’t able to get a hold of Detective Quinones or Powderly, but I left messages,” she finished. “If you can meet us there, we’ll show you which building it is.”
There was a short pause before Hawkins said, “All right. I can make it in twenty minutes.”
When Nancy hung up, Dirk was already springing from his chair. “Let’s roll!” he exclaimed.
“And find my car!” Bess added.
Nancy pasted an enthusiastic smile on her face. After all, she didn’t want Powderly to suspect anything.
Stan clapped his hands together. “You guys make a good team. I’ll round up the other cops and wait for Raul. When he’s done at the track, he’ll stop at the judge’s to get a search warrant.” He checked his watch. “It’s eight-forty. Be at the warehouse at five of nine. Hawk should be there by then.”
While he talked, Nancy frowned in concentration. Everything he said made so much sense. He’d obviously thought out his plan carefully. Even his reasons why Detective Quinones wasn’t here were logical. If he hadn’t made the slip about the evidence tape, Nancy wouldn’t have been the least bit suspicious.
Powderly shook their hands as they left. “Good luck, team,” he said.
Nancy was silent as she, Bess, and Dirk walked to the Mustang. Bess slid into the back seat behind Nancy, then Dirk got in the front passenger seat.
“Okay, Nan. ’Fess up,” Bess said, leaning forward and resting her arms on the back of Nancy’s seat. “I can tell you’re worried about something. You’ve hardly said a word in the past ten minutes.”
“Do you think B.D. might be dangerous?” Dirk asked. “Don’t tell me the famous detective sees a glitch in Stan’s plan?”
“More like she smells a big rat,” Nancy said. “You guys, I never told Detective Quinones about finding the evidence tape. I was going to show it to him this morning and get his reaction.”
For a moment Bess and Dirk stared at her blankly. Then Dirk said slowly, “So what you’re saying is, if Powderly knew about the tape it means he must’ve put it there himself.”
“You mean Stan’s the bad cop?” Bess asked in disbelief.
Nancy nodded. “Looks like it. We’ve got to find a phone and contact Detective Quinones,” she said, starting the car. “B. D. Hawkins is being set up, and so are we.”
Moments later Nancy spotted a pay phone at a gas station. Pulling in, she grabbed some change from her purse and jogged over to the phone. Since she hadn’t seen Quinones at the police station she decided to try him at his house.
Relief flooded Nancy when the detective answered. “Detective Quinones? This is Nancy,” she said into the receiver. “Has Stan Powderly talked to you this morning?”
“Yeah. He said you called in and postponed our meeting until ten o’clock. I’ll be a little late. I have to stop back at the drag strip.”
“Is that about the boot print?” Nancy asked.
“How did you know?”
Quickly Nancy filled him in on what had just happened. When she was done, she heard a low whistle over the line.
“Wow,” Detective Quinones said. “Stan Powderly! I never would’ve guessed.” Then his voice turned serious. “He’s obviously willing to do anything to save his own hide. I’ll radio for backup to meet me at the warehouse. I want you kids to stay away,” he said firmly. “Stan could be very dangerous.”
When Nancy hung up, she breathed a sigh of relief. It was nice to have the police step in. As she got back into the car, though, another thought occurred to her.
“Oh, no,” she said in a low voice.
“You didn’t get Detective Quinones?” Bess asked worriedly.
“Oh, I got him. He’s going right to the warehouse, but who knows how long it will take him to get there.” Checking her watch, Nancy saw that it was almost nine.
Dirk turned to Nancy, a worried look on his face. “But Hawkins is supposed to meet us there any minute.”
Nancy nodded grimly. “Which means he’ll walk right into whatever trap Powderly’s cooked up.” She started the Mustang and pulled out of the gas station. “We’ve got to warn him!”
Nancy made it to the warehouse in record time. Detective Hawkins’s empty car was already parked in front of R. H. Shipping. Nancy stopped the Mustang beside it, then checked the loading dock and garage door.
“I don’t see anyone,” she said. “But the garage door’s open. Hawkins must have gone in already.”
Following Nancy’s gaze, Dirk said, “Maybe Powderly’s in there, too. Just because his car isn’t around doesn’t mean he’s not.”
“That’s right. We’d better be extra careful,” Nancy warned. Opening her door, she swung her legs out.
“Uh—are we going in there?” Bess asked in a worried voice.
Nancy tossed the keys to Bess. “I’m going in. You guys wait for Quinones. He should be here soon.”
“No way!” Dirk opened his door and jumped out. “You’re not going in there alone.”
Nancy could see that he wasn’t going to back down. “Okay,” she agreed. “Bess, if we’re not out in ten minutes, take off and find the police.”
“Good luck!” Bess said, flashing them the thumbs-up sign.
Nancy and Dirk eased up the loading ramp and slipped into the building through the open garage door. Except for the light streaming in the open doorway, the warehouse was dark.
She and Dirk paused to let their eyes adjust. Finally they could see that they were inside a huge, windowless room. Against the back wall, boxes were piled to the ceiling. A large freight elevator was built into the right wall. A freight elevator to where? Nancy wondered for a second before she remembered Hawkins. There was no sign of him or anyone else.
“I wonder where Hawkins is,” Nancy whispered. She pointed to a door with a window about halfway down the right wall. “Maybe that’s an office. I’ll check.”
She strode across the room and tried the handle. The door was locked. Pulling her penlight from her purse, she shined the beam through the window. “Nothing much in there,” she murmured. “Just a desk and some file cabinets.” She resolved to check back for information about the chop shop. Right now, her priority was to warn Detective Hawkins.
When she turned around, she saw Dirk standing by the boxes piled to the ceiling against the rear wall.
“Someone’s been painting in here,” he whispered as Nancy joined him. “I can smell it.”
“You’re right!” Nancy whispered back, sniffing the air and trying to locate its source. “Maybe there’s something behind these,” she suggested, tapping the boxes. “It looks as though they’re stacked several deep.”
They began moving boxes. When they had cleared a space, Nancy flashed her light into it. The beam illuminated a narrow metal staircase that led upward into the ceiling.
She gave a low whistle. “They sure didn’t want anyone to find this.”
“What do you think’s up there?” Dirk asked.
“Only one way to find out,” Nancy said. Meeting Dirk’s gaze, she asked, “Ready?”
He took a deep breath. “Ready.”
They squeezed between the boxes and climbed the steps, Dirk leading the way. When they emerged onto the second floor, Nancy’s mouth fell open.
Skylights in the roof illuminated a huge room
filled with cars in various stages of being painted or dismantled. One corner of the room was heaped with parts and shipping boxes. Another corner held an array of paint cans and tools. The freight elevator opening was in the side wall.
“Wow,” Nancy exclaimed softly. “I’d say we found the chop shop.”
Chapter
Fifteen
WHAT A SETUP,” Nancy said, walking over to a car that was taped for painting. “All they have to do is grind out the VIN on the newer ones, repaint them, and sell them.”
She turned to take in the rest of the room. As the floor below, there were no people. “I wonder where Hawkins is?” she asked anxiously. “We need to get out of here before Powderly comes.”
Dirk didn’t hear Nancy. He was busy picking up a spray gun. A canister of paint was attached to the gun’s handle, and a long hose led to an air compressor. He idly flicked on the compressor. “It takes about ten minutes for these babies to warm up,” he said. “But when they do, they can change the color of a car in an hour or two.”
“Come on,” Nancy urged. “Let’s get back outside and wait for Quinones.”
They were back at the steps when Nancy heard a low moan coming from behind a pile of shipping boxes in the middle of the room. Dirk’s eyes opened wide. Nancy nodded toward the boxes, and the two crept over.
Nancy saw something move beneath the junk as they approached. Bending down, she pulled a box away, revealing an arm in a brown leather jacket. “Help me, Dirk,” Nancy said. “Hawkins is under these boxes.”
They pulled the empty boxes off the detective. When he was finally uncovered, they helped him to a sitting position. His mouth had been taped shut, and his hands and legs were bound together with rope. Blood was dripping from an ugly-looking cut at the back of his head.
“You’re hurt!” Nancy exclaimed. Squatting down next to the detective, she inspected the wound more closely. “At least it’s not very deep.”
“Here, take this,” said Dirk. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to Nancy, who tied it around Hawkins’s head. Then she peeled back a corner of the tape across his mouth and was just ready to rip it off.