“Where are you going?” asked Bess.
“I’m gonna stall ’em as long as possible, so the police have time to build up the front line.”
“Good luck,” said Bess as they drove away.
Once I was in my own car I headed back toward the casino.
Clay was nowhere in sight, but Frankie and Edward were just getting into their car. They were headed toward Bess and George, so I honked my horn.
It worked—now they were following me.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter in a vain attempt to stop my hands from trembling. Speeding through downtown, the buildings and people were all a blur. Suddenly a large object came into my field of vision: a man crossing the street, not too far ahead. I screeched to a halt, stopping just in time. The noise from my car drew all sorts of stares.
There sure were lots of people around. This was dangerous.
I turned left the first chance I got, and found myself on an open road. I cracked the window open for a little air, and the wind whipped through my hair. My entire body was tense. I hunched forward, as if that would help me go faster. This was good, because I could speed without having to worry about pedestrians. But it was also bad. I was racing toward farmland, away from any potential witnesses. And while my car was fast, I soon learned that Clay’s cronies’ car was even faster.
Edward pulled up right alongside me and shouted, “You’ll pull over if you know what’s good for you.”
As if, I thought, pumping on the gas pedal. Luckily I was able to pull ahead. But then I had another problem to deal with. A second car had pulled in front of me. He was on my nose, and Edward and Frankie were on my tail.
Must be the guards from out front. How could I have forgotten about them?
There was only one thing to do. I yanked the steering wheel to the left. The car turned with a screech, flying up on two wheels for a few breathtaking seconds. Luckily it stabilized, instead of flipping. Seconds later I found myself driving through an open field. It was plenty bumpy, what with the tall grass and all the rocks. And I couldn’t go too fast, since I didn’t want to risk getting a flat. But at least my sudden turn had stalled the other two cars. I had a great lead on them. Now if only I could figure out where to go.…
My mind was racing. Would the police listen to George and Bess? Were Clay and Loretta already on their way out of town? Should I be driving out in the wilderness followed by four ruthless gangsters? Hmm. That last question was easy to answer.
I yanked the steering wheel again and made a quick U-turn, fishtailing only briefly.
Suddenly I saw a red blur speed by. Could it be? I pulled back onto the road and followed the car. Yup. It was Clay and Loretta.
I was far behind them on the road that led out of town, and couldn’t see the other gangsters either. No way would Bess and George have gotten the police to come already. It was too early. I had to stall them.
“Come on, car,” I begged. “You can go faster than this.”
I tried catching up to the Gaineses, but it was no use. They were almost at the roadblock, and all I could do was hope for the best.
By the time I got there, Clay and Loretta had been stopped. I counted two squad cars and four police officers, including Chief McGinnis.
Then Frankie and Edward, plus the two other guys, pulled up behind me. Now the cops were outnumbered. Who knew what would happen?
Clay stepped out of the car, smiled, and tipped his hat as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. “Good afternoon, Chief McGinnis. Something going on here?”
Loretta waved at the chief and then blew him a kiss.
“Just a routine check,” said the chief. “I hate to do this, but we’re going to have to search your car.”
“I’m afraid that’s not going to work,” said Clay.
“No?” asked Chief McGinnis.
“Nope. The trunk is locked, and I don’t have the key.”
“Wait a minute!” I yelled. “He’s lying. I’ll bet the trunk is where he’s hiding the stolen money. This is the man who’s responsible for the robberies. I can prove it.”
“Interesting choice of words,” said Clay. “Betting is something you know a little bit about, huh, Nancy? Or are you still going by Neum?”
“What are you talking about?” asked Chief McGinnis.
“Go ahead, Nancy,” Clay said, turning toward me. “Tell everyone here how you tricked us.”
The officers looked at me suspiciously. I suddenly felt pretty shy in my unusual outfit.
“I dressed like a boy—but I only did that to gather evidence,” I said, handing the chief Clay’s book. “Everything you need is right in here. It’s not just the banks and the money for the casino. They’ve been swindling people out of their homes by cheating at cards. Look at all the deeds they’ve collected.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Loretta, batting her eyes at the chief of police. “Why we’re just out for a drive. Such a nice day, isn’t it?”
Chief McGinnis looked from Loretta to Clay to me.
“Open the book,” I said.
He started leafing through the pages.
“Just read the first page,” I said.
As the chief read Clay’s list of investors to scam, which included himself, his face went pale. “Well, I’ll be,” he said.
Just then Clay grabbed the book from Chief McGinnis’s hands and hopped into his car.
No one had noticed that while Chief McGinnis was reading, Loretta had moved into the driver’s seat.
“Wait a minute,” said the chief.
But Clay and Loretta did no such thing. Their tires kicked up dust and they sped off.
I’d finally convinced the cops that the Gaineses were guilty, but it was too late.
They were going to get away.
15
The Not-So-Open Road
Everyone got into their cars and raced out of town, in pursuit of Clay and Loretta and their sidekicks.
But no one made it very far.
Someone had set up another roadblock. This one was massive. There had to be at least fifty cops, sitting in cars six rows deep.
Clay and Loretta and the other gangsters had no choice but to surrender. They were promptly arrested.
As the cops began searching their cars, Bess and George showed up.
“Where did they all come from?” I asked. “I didn’t know River Heights had so many cops.”
“We don’t,” said George. “But during all my searching at the library, I decided to make a couple of phone calls too. I talked to police headquarters in a few of the surrounding counties. It was amazing. Everyone knew about Loretta and Clay.”
“But how did you know they’d all come?” I asked.
“Just luck, really,” said George. “Thanks for distracting everyone for long enough. I’ll bet if they’d driven off a few minutes earlier, Clay and Loretta would have gotten away.”
Suddenly one more car arrived. It brought a couple of reporters from the River Heights Bugle. One had the biggest camera I’ve ever seen hanging from his neck. The other carried a pencil and a note-book—and looked suspiciously like a Nickerson. Ned’s dad?
He rushed to Chief McGinnis and asked, “How did you do it, Chief?”
The chief of police looked at me and smiled. “It wasn’t easy,” he said. “But I had help.”
“How so?” asked the reporter, with his pen poised.
“It’s a little thing called common sense,” said Chief McGinnis, turning back to the reporter. “I’d always suspected the Gaineses. After all, ever since they came to town, strange things have been happening. It was just a matter of putting together all the pieces.”
As the photographer took pictures of Chief McGinnis beaming by his squad car, George leaned in close. “Are you just gonna stand there and let this guy take all the credit?” she asked.
“Not at all,” I said with a grin. I pulled a piece of paper from my back pocket. “I’m going home. I’ve got
to get the Smiths back the deed to their house before Hannah goes bananas.”
“Nancy, you’re the bees knees,” said Bess.
“Thanks,” I said as I stepped into my car.
“We’ll see you at the town hall at seven o’clock, right?” said Bess. “Do you think Neum will be able to make it?”
“Well, I’ll be there, for sure,” I said with a wave. “Pearls in your oysters!”
I got home twenty minutes later. Bob and Sylvia were in the living room. Bob had set up his sewing machine and was busy at work. Sylvia was reading the newspaper, and Eliza was on the floor, playing with Daisy the frog.
“Hi, everyone. I have good news!” I said, handing the Smiths the deed to their house. “Loretta and Clay and the rest of their gang have all been arrested.”
Eliza looked up at me. “You mean we get to go home?”
“That’s right.”
Sylvia jumped up and gave me a hug. “Oh, Nancy, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Oh, you don’t have to. I’m just so glad everything worked out.”
Bob asked, “How did you do it?”
“Long story,” I said. “And I don’t have time to tell you right now. But I promise I will soon.”
I headed for the stairs but stopped when Bob said, “Wait a minute.” He pulled the dress he was working on from the sewing machine and handed it to me. “I finished this just in time.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I made it for you,” said Bob.
“You made me a dress?” I held it up by the shoulders. It was mauve, with a brown sash at the waist. The sleeves were puffy, like the rest of the dresses in my closet. And there was a lace collar attached.
In short, it was hideous.
“Thank you so much, Bob. It’s gorgeous!” Sure, it was a lie—but just a white lie. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Sure I did,” said Bob. “I can’t let you go running around town in a man’s suit.”
“Oh, this was just for today. See, I had to sneak into the casino.”
“I don’t want to hear about that,” said Bob. “It scares me too much to know you’d put yourself in that kind of danger for my family. Just take the dress as a small token of our thanks.”
I blushed. “Thank you, Bob. I’m going to go put this on right now.” I hurried upstairs and changed out of the suit and into the dress. Then I raced back down. It was almost seven, and I still had to come up with some sort of story about Neum, the mysterious Belgian, before I went to the big meeting.
“Oh, the dress looks lovely,” said Sylvia.
“Thank you,” I replied. Seeing Eliza on the ground playing with Daisy, I asked, “How was school?”
“Rotten,” she said. “And now I have to go every day. Thanks a lot, Nancy Drew!”
“Eliza, that’s so rude. Please apologize,” said Sylvia.
“But I’m not sorry,” Eliza argued.
“Please don’t worry about it,” I called on my way out the door. “I appreciate the honesty!”
Downtown was so crowded I had to park about six blocks away from the town hall. By the time I got to the meeting (a little late), the room was packed. Luckily Bess and George had arrived a smidge early, and saved me a seat.
“All ready?” asked George.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I turned my attention to the front of the room. The mayor—same big, portly guy—was just asking the crowd to settle down.
“As you know, it’s been a very difficult year. This town has suffered in countless ways. But at least now, some of the corruption has been put to rest. And even better than that, we have found a new way to work together.”
I yawned, and rubbed my eyes. I was suddenly feeling so tired. The past few days were finally catching up on me. So much running around, so much excitement, and so little sleep…
Bess nudged me. “Wake up, Nancy.”
“Sorry,” I said, sitting up straighter in my seat.
“If it wasn’t for a young man from Belgium,” the mayor was saying, “we never would have made it to this point.”
Keeping my laughs to myself, I pulled at the collar of the mauve-colored dress. So nice of Bob to make it, and I hated to complain—but the lace sure was itchy. However, apparently not itchy and uncomfortable enough to keep me awake.
“Just a few minutes longer, and then you can take a nap,” a familiar voice whispered in my ear.
My eyes flew open. There beside me was Ned. But he wasn’t the Ned I recognized. For one thing, rather than a three-piece suit, he was wearing jeans and a button-down shirt. “Where’s your hat?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.
“I’m wearing it,” said Ned.
“Not your baseball cap, silly. Your other hat.”
“Are you okay?” asked Ned.
“Yes, great. Um, never mind.” I glanced around the room. Not one man was wearing a suit. And very few women were in dresses.
I turned my attention toward center stage, where a woman—wearing a suit—was speaking. She had soft red, curly hair, a heart-shaped face, and she looked very much like Loretta Gaines. I guess that’s because she was Tracey, Loretta and Clay’s great-granddaughter.
I was back in the twenty-first century. Was that really all a dream? It didn’t seem possible.
“In conclusion,” she said, “Clay and Loretta Gaines were eventually stopped by an army of police officers from River Heights and all the surrounding towns. That’s the official word, anyway. Rumor has it there’s a lot more to the story. Apparently an anonymous young woman do-gooder, with a tremendous talent for solving mysteries, was really the one who foiled my great-grandparents. Problem is, no one knows who she was, or what happened to her.”
“She sounds sort of familiar to me… ,” Ned whispered in my ear.
I smiled. “Sure does,” I whispered. “More than you’ll ever know.”
16
No Place Like Home
Wow, that was great, huh?” said George, as we filed out of town hall.
“Amazing,” I said. I wasn’t talking about the lecture. It was downtown that surprised me. Everything was gorgeous. The sun was shining and the sky was bright blue. A slight breeze shook the vibrant fall leaves. The streets were so clean and the pavement so sparkly. Better yet, I didn’t see one person who looked homeless or hungry.
“It’s radiant,” I said with a sigh.
Bess and George looked at each other, confused. Ned put his arm around me and asked, “What’s gotten into you, Nancy? You’re acting like you’ve never been here before.”
Before I had time to answer him, Bess said, “Oh, there’s our aunt, right on time for tea. Come meet her.”
An elderly woman, with long white braids on either side of her head, walked over to us. “How was your little lecture?” she asked.
“Very cool,” said George. “Aunt Eliza, meet my good friends, Nancy and Ned.”
George and Bess’s aunt shook my hand. “Eliza Smith. Very nice to meet you.” I felt the strangest, spine-tingling sensation. Eliza seemed so familiar. Could it be? No, it was impossible. But just then I noticed something stirred in her pocket. I jumped.
“Excuse me,” said Eliza. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a frog and started petting it. “I suppose you should meet my frog. Her name is—”
“Daisy!” I finished for her.
“Daisy the Sixth actually,” said Eliza, staring at me strangely.
“How’d you know that?” George asked.
“Oh, just a lucky guess,” I replied.
Eliza’s eyes sparked with mischief. “A lucky guess,” she repeated. Smiling slyly, she gave me a wink. “Just stick to that story, Nancy Drew. I won’t say a word.”
Carolyn Keene, Bad Times, Big Crimes
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