Hotline to Danger (9 page)

“Was Paul telling the truth?”

“Uh-huh. Luckily, I got off because the clerk at the store couldn't identify me in the lineup and my friends stuck to their story.” He laughed. “Plus, all we got was some change and aspirin. Big heist, huh. Last I heard, the store dropped the charges.”

“What about the fact that several store owners saw you arguing with Paul on Monday night not far from the murder scene?”

Kip raised one brow. “Okay, so Remer and I argued. I told him if I saw his ugly face around Nighthawk territory again, I'd kick him out myself.” He leaned close to Nancy. “But I didn't say I'd kill him.”

“That's right,” Joey confirmed. “I was there.”

“What did Paul do when you threatened him?” Nancy asked.

“He told me he had more important things to do than argue with a punk like me.”

Nancy frowned. “Do you have any idea what he meant?”

Joey, Billie, and Kip shook their heads.

“Any idea who killed him?”

Kip's face brightened. He beckoned to someone
hunkered down in the back of the caboose. “Skins, get up here and tell the P.I. what you saw.”

A little guy about fourteen pushed his way past the other gang members. His leather jacket hung loose on his skinny frame, his head was shaved bald, and his eyes darted nervously from Kip to Nancy.

“Well, I—I—” he stuttered. Skins flashed Nancy a shy grin, swallowed, then tried again.

“Monday night I—I slept here in the caboose,” he said, staring at his feet. “Whenever my dad and I have a big fight, I come here. I sleep on the seat there, and it ain't so bad.”

Nancy looked where he was pointing. Under a window that faced the warehouse, there was a long wooden bench. Stepping closer, Nancy peered out the glass. In the moonlight she could see the loading docks, the overgrown field, and a short stretch of the tracks.

“So you were here when Paul was murdered?” she asked, excitement creeping into her voice.

He nodded. “But I didn't see what happened. I woke up when car lights flashed in the window. It took me a second to remember where I was. When I finally sat up and looked out the window, I saw a car in the field behind the warehouse.”

Skins glanced hesitantly up at Kip. The leader gave him the thumbs-up sign. After taking a deep breath, the boy finished his story.

“The car lights shone right on the body. I heard the door slam, then the car squealed out of here like it was going to a fire.”

Nancy let out her breath. “Did you see the driver?”

“Naw.” Skins looked apologetic, but then he gave her a huge grin. “But I know what kind of car it was! A silver Mercedes.”

“Thanks, Skins,” she said sincerely. Then she reached into her back pocket and pulled out Rachel's picture. “Now, I'd like you all to look at this picture of Paul's girlfriend, Rachel. Maybe someone has seen her in the neighborhood. She witnessed the murder, so if we find her, we can clear up this mystery.”

Kip flicked his lighter on so that the gang members could get a good look at the photograph. Nancy watched closely as they passed the picture around and looked at it.

“Nope. We haven't seen her around.” Kip was the last person to hand the picture back to Nancy. He flicked off the lighter.

“If you do see her, please call the River Heights Police Department and ask for B. D. Hawkins,” Nancy said to the silent, staring faces. “You don't have to give your name.”

Several heads nodded.

“And thank you,” she added.

“Thank
you.”
Kip made a half bow. “For believing us.”

But when Nancy finally reached the safety of
the Mustang, she wasn't sure who or what to believe. She just knew she desperately wanted to go home. After calling George to say she was safe, she planned on going straight to bed.

• • •

“So let me see if I've got this right,” Bess said to Nancy the next morning. She was riding in the front seat of the Mustang, and George was in the back. The three girls were on their way to see B.D. at the police station.

“Mrs. Thackett could be the murderer, only she has an alibi,” Bess repeated what Nancy had told them earlier. “Or Kip could be the murderer, although he told you he wasn't. Only he has no alibi.”

Nancy laughed. “Right. Simple, huh.”

Bess sighed. “Yeah. About as simple as my relationship with Kyle.”

Nancy looked at her friend. Bess's mouth was turned down at the corners. “Sorry, Bess. I've been so wrapped up in this case, I'd forgotten about you and Kyle.”

“Me, too,” George said apologetically. “So what did you two talk about yesterday?”

“I suggested that when he leaves, we date other people.” Bess's voice was resigned. “I think it's the only way. We're going to still try to see each other—you know, on holidays and stuff.”

George patted her cousin's arm. “Hey, that sounds like a good solution. How did Kyle take the part about dating other people?”

Bess shrugged. “He's not wild about it.”

Nancy pulled up in front of the police station, hoping that the case would distract her friend from her troubles for a while. “Let's see if B.D.'s found out anything new.”

They found B.D. in his office. There was just one extra chair in his office, and he carried in two others so that all three girls could sit down. Then he sat down behind his desk. The first thing he did when he heard about Nancy's late-night escapade was to groan. “I can't believe you let that punk DiFranco get away, Nancy,” he said angrily. “You know we've been looking for him. Maybe I ought to have you arrested for aiding a criminal.”

“If I'd let you in on it, Kip would have known,” Nancy shot right back. “He's no fool. Then he wouldn't have told me anything.”

B.D. muttered something, then swung around in his swivel chair. He stood up and strode to a coffee maker. “You girls want any coffee?” he asked gruffly. Nancy could tell by his unshaven face and the dark circles under his eyes that he probably hadn't made it home the night before.

When they shook their heads, he poured himself a cup, then turned to Nancy. “So you really think this Skins kid was telling the truth about the Mercedes?”

Nancy shrugged. “I think so. Now we just have to figure out who can afford a Mercedes.”

“Probably Mrs. Thackett,” Bess stated.

Nancy, George, and B.D. turned to her.

“Don't you remember Billie saying Mrs. Thackett told Rachel she wouldn't get any of ‘her money'?” Bess reminded them. “And remember Rachel's leather suitcase? And her clothes?”

“Bess is right,” Nancy said. “Only when Mrs. Thackett came to the center, she was driving a blue sedan.”

“Maybe she has a second car that she's hiding because she thinks it could have been spotted at the scene of the crime,” George suggested.

B.D. stopped in the middle of sipping his coffee and glanced suspiciously from Bess to George to Nancy. “Why do I get the feeling you three are cooking up something?”

“Because we are!” Bess exclaimed.

“Look, B.D., I've got an idea,” Nancy said excitedly. “You don't have enough evidence to go snooping through Mrs. Thackett's garage, but if we just happened to—”

Holding up one hand to silence her, B.D. strode back to his desk. “I don't want to hear about your plan. In fact, I'm going to pretend you girls weren't even here. But—” Pausing, he looked at them with lowered brows, then suddenly winked and smiled. “If you should happen to spot a silver Mercedes in her garage, I want to be the first to know.”

Fifteen minutes later Nancy pulled the Mustang up the circular drive of the Thackett home. It was located in one of River Height's most
expensive neighborhoods. The two-car garage was off to the right of the house. Both doors were shut, and there were no window panels in them.

“Now, remember,” Nancy told Bess and George. “You're old high-school friends of Rachel's. When Mrs. Thackett answers the door, I'll duck down so she doesn't see me.”

“Right,” George and Bess chorused.

Nancy checked her watch. “It shouldn't take me very long. See you in ten minutes.”

Nancy watched from the car as George and Bess walked up the steps to the front door. When they rang the bell, she bent low in the car seat.

Almost immediately Nancy heard the murmur of voices and the front door slamming shut. She waited a few seconds, then opened the car door on the side away from the house and slipped from the Mustang. The grounds were well landscaped, but since the leaves weren't out on the trees yet, Nancy had to be careful not to be seen.

She reached the garage in a few seconds and darted around the side, where she found a window. Rising on tiptoes, she peered inside. The blue sedan was parked closer to her, but next to it was a second car.

Nancy's heart skipped a beat.

It was a silver Mercedes!

S
O
M
RS.
T
HACKETT'S CAR
might have been at the scene of the crime, Nancy thought. Or it could just be a coincidence. Hers certainly wasn't the only silver Mercedes in River Heights. Besides, she'd been seen at the theater. Could someone else have been driving her car?

Ducking low, Nancy made her way back to the Mustang, slid into the driver's seat, and settled down low. Bess and George did not return as quickly as Nancy had hoped, however. Her muscles were beginning to cramp when the front door of the Thacketts' house finally flew open.

“Goodbye! Thank you!” Nancy heard Bess and George call. Once Nancy heard the front door close behind her friends, she sat up. She quickly started the car as Bess and George jumped in.

“Whew,” Bess gasped when they were halfway down the circular drive. “That woman is obsessed with her daughter.”

“That's for sure,” George agreed. “Mrs. Thackett has lived her life around Rachel. The house is a monument to her. Every wall has pictures of Rachel performing—”

“Ballet, horseback riding, gymnastics,” Bess added, leaning on the back of George's seat. “She even brought out the photo albums.” Bess rolled her eyes. “Honestly, if we hadn't told her we had a lunch date, we would have been there all day.”

“It's no wonder Rachel split,” George said. “If my mom acted like that, I'd feel totally smothered.”

“Did she say anything about where Rachel was?” Nancy asked.

George and Bess exchanged glances. “She told us Rachel was in New York, visiting friends,” George said.

“Even though I knew she was lying, I felt sorry for her,” Bess added.

“Don't feel too sorry. There's a silver Mercedes in her garage,” Nancy told them.

Bess gasped. “You mean
she
killed Paul?”

“No, it means a car the same make as hers drove onto that field by the tracks.”

George whistled. “Sounds like pretty solid evidence to me.”

“Only if the police can prove it was the same
car,” Nancy said. “If B.D. gets a warrant, they can scrape the tires for mud samples and compare it to the dirt around the tracks.” She turned the car onto Main Street. “Look for a phone booth. I need to call B.D., then let's head to the teen center and see if Rachel's called.”

“Tony would have tried to contact you,” Bess said. “He's
very
responsible.”

“And
good-looking, smart, sensitive . . .” George teased her cousin.

Bess rapped her on the arm. “I hadn't noticed,” she stated firmly. “After all, I'm still dating Kyle.” Dropping her chin onto her arms, she sighed dejectedly. “Until he leaves in three days.”

“Three days!” Nancy exclaimed.

Bess nodded. “Yeah. He's taking the job right away. Although I really think he just wants to get out in the sun and surf and date California girls.”

“Oh, come on, Bess,” George scoffed. “Kyle's really serious when it comes to his career. Besides,
you
were the one who said you should date other people.”

“True.”

“Hey, there's a phone booth.” George pointed at a gas station. Nancy flicked on her turn signal.

“After you call, why don't we look for a place to grab a burger?” Bess suggested. “My stomach is telling me it's lunchtime.”

“It's a deal.” Nancy parked, then jumped out
of the car. She dialed B.D.'s number at the police station. He answered right away, and she told him about the Mercedes.

When Nancy got back into the car, Bess and George looked at her expectantly.

“B.D. says he'll have someone do more checking into Mrs. Thackett's alibi. If the police find out she was lying, they can get a warrant to search her garage. He also said he has two officers combing the area around Billie's apartment. So far there's no sign of Rachel.”