Hot Tracks (13 page)

“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 murmured.

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.”

W
HAT 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.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” a voice said behind them.

Nancy whirled around. Stan Powderly stood over her, a gun in his hand.

“If I'd wanted Hawk to talk, I wouldn't have taped his mouth shut,” Powderly went on.

“But he's hurt,” she protested.

“Obviously not hurt enough,” said Powderly. “I thought I hit him hard enough to put him out for good. Too bad your head's so hard, Hawk. Now you'll have to watch.”

Dirk eyed Powderly uneasily. “What are you going to do to us?” he asked.

Powderly just grinned. For the first time Nancy could see the evil in his face. With his pink cheeks and round belly, he looked like a sinister clown.

“He's not going to do anything,” Nancy retorted. “Bess will tell Detective Quinones where we are. He should be here any second.”

At that, Stan chuckled. “Your little friend isn't going to save you.”

He stepped aside as two men came up the steps, holding a struggling Bess. Like B. D. Hawkins, her mouth had been taped. Nancy recognized the craggy face of the driver who'd nearly run them down with the car carrier. The other guy was the blond man who'd been on the loading dock that same day.

“Now that they've seen her, tie her up downstairs,” Powderly ordered the goons. “I don't want any chance of her helping her friends.”

“You're hurting her!” Dirk growled, lunging forward.

“Don't move!” Stan ordered, swinging his gun at Dirk. “Or I'll blow you all away.”

Dirk stopped in his tracks. His gaze locked on Bess's as he helplessly watched the two thugs drag her back down the steps.

“As for the great Detective Quinones,” Stan continued, “he's going to be hunting through a warehouse at the end of the street, where I parked your Mustang and B.D.'s car.”

“Pretty clever,” Nancy said, rising slowly to her feet. “But then I knew you'd have to be clever in order to kill Jimmy Sandia and frame your own partner.”

Detective Powderly glared at her. “Too bad I had to kill Sandia, but you'd fingered him. It would have only been a matter of time before the cops would have caught him. And as for Hawk—well, since Kitty looks innocent of Jimmy's murder, I had to pin it on somebody.”

Hawkins was glaring at his partner, but the tape prevented him from saying anything.

Chuckling to himself, Powderly went on. “But it worked out great. Now Kitty's the only one who can link me to the auto theft ring. And soon the beautiful Ms. Lambert will be killed resisting arrest.”