Trapped! Then, to her disbelief, the suitcase lid sprang open with a click. Hiding her moves, Nancy leaned back and began searching its contents with her fingers, seeking some sort of weapon. Her fingertips made contact with a long, silky, and wavy chunk of fabric. Leila’s wig!
Nancy’s gaze zeroed in on the woman. It was a slim chance, but it was the only one she had.
Grabbing the wig, Nancy flipped it over her shoulder. The wig soared into the front seat and landed right on Leila’s head. Silken tresses swept across her face. Lifting both hands, she screamed hysterically.
“What the—” Macklin exclaimed.
The car swerved dangerously as he reacted to his wife’s sudden panic.
Sliding to the floor, Nancy brought her leg around between the bucket seats in a perfect karate kick. Her heel slammed Leila’s temple, knocking the woman unconscious.
The pistol slipped out of Leila’s loose grasp, thudding onto the carpet between the bucket seats. Macklin reacted instantly. With dismaying speed, he lunged to the floor for the fallen pistol, one hand on the steering wheel.
Twisting in desperation, Nancy lashed out with both legs. She caught his neck between her ankles, forcing him away from the pistol. Red-faced, Macklin grabbed her legs with his free hand, trying to release her hold. The tense struggle dragged on for breathless seconds.
Then, wild-eyed and steering with his knees, Macklin let go of the steering wheel for an instant and strained to reach Nancy’s throat.
“I’ll get you!” he wheezed.
Nancy slammed her left foot into the con man’s middle. Wasting no time, she threw her right foot at his face and connected with his jaw. Macklin slumped across the gearbox, out cold!
Nancy was lying on the back floor, knees pressed against her chest, her hands still tightly bound behind her. All at once, she heard the car’s engine begin to race. Horrified, she stared at the gas pedal. Macklin’s foot was pushing it to the floor!
The steering wheel swung freely. Nancy’s gaze shifted helplessly to the speedometer. The needle crept steadily upward—forty, forty-five, fifty.
Craning her neck, Nancy peered out the windshield. The speeding car was drifting back and forth across the center line, out of control. Ahead a huge lumber truck rumbled over the crest of the ridge, heading straight for them.
Inching forward, Nancy pushed Leila’s legs out of the way and crawled into the space between the bucket seats. She kicked desperately at Macklin’s leg. No good!
The lumber truck’s horn sounded a funereal note.
The speedometer needle climbed past sixty!
Nancy’s frantic gaze zeroed in on the gearbox, running from the shift column to the steel plate at its base.
Automatic shift! thought Nancy wildly.
Kicking off her shoes, Nancy gripped the stick shift with both feet. With all her might, she shoved it into neutral. She waited for several breathless seconds. The lumber truck was still bearing down on them. Finally, the car began to slow down.
The truck’s horn sounded again, much closer this time.
Looking up, Nancy saw its huge chrome grille closing in fast.
Leaning back, Nancy caught the free-swinging steering wheel with the soles of her feet. Praying that the truck would hold a straight course, she spun the wheel to the right.
Tires skidding, the car nosed off the road. The truck tagged it on the rear end, denting the fender, tearing off the bumper in a shower of sparks.
The car plowed through a snowbank and plunged into a snowy farm field. Nancy fell backward as the idling car rolled across the field. With a rush of relief, Nancy felt the deep snow do its job. Sinking to its hubcaps, the car rolled to a complete stop.
Ignoring the racing motor, Nancy backed into the rear door, then grabbed and lifted the lever with both her hands. The door swung open, dumping her in the snow.
As she staggered to her feet, Nancy saw Ned, Bess, and George running across the field. Behind them, a Mapleton cruiser, red light flashing, parked behind Ned’s car at the side of the road.
“Nancy, are you all right?” Ned asked breathlessly. “When that car began to swerve, I thought—”
“Still in one piece, Ned. Just barely!” Nancy tried to smile. She wasn’t sure her shaking legs could keep her upright much longer.
While her friends untied her hands, Nancy watched Lieutenant Kowalski and Officer Murillo approach. The lieutenant opened the car door, reached inside, and shut off the idling engine. Then he sent a questioning glance toward Nancy. “Mind telling me what’s going on here, Ms. Carlton?”
“We had a call there had been a kidnapping,” Linda Murillo added.
“That was us,” Ned explained. “After those two drove away, we rushed the house, but there was no sign of you. So we knew something was up. George called the police from the house. Then we came after you.”
Nancy’s wrists came free. Wincing, she rubbed the sore skin. “Those two are the real culprits, Lieutenant. The girl masqueraded as Nancy Drew. You’ll find her wig and the money they stole in the car. That man killed Joe Crain.”
In terse tones, Nancy outlined the basic facts of the case. When she was finished, Lieutenant Kowalski actually smiled. He ordered Officer Murillo to handcuff the prisoners. Then he offered Nancy his hand. “Nice work, Ms. Carlton. That’s the best sleuthing I’ve seen in a long time.”
Nancy shook his hand gingerly, then Ned reached out to give her a hug.
“I’m so relieved you’re okay, Nan,” he murmured.
“Nan!” the lieutenant echoed, puzzled, as Ned released her.
“That’s right, Lieutenant. Nan—as in Nancy Drew,” George confirmed. “She’s the one who cracked this case, and she’s the one who deserves your congratulations.”
Nancy watched as Lieutenant Kowalski’s smile vanished. He stared at her for a long moment. She swallowed hard, wondering how he was going to react. The case may be over for her, but there was still the matter of his suspicions to worry about.
Then the lieutenant’s smile returned, twice as bright. His friendly chuckle banished her anxiety.
“I believe I owe you an apology, Ms. Drew.”
Nancy smiled back, relieved. “Not too shabby for a ‘civilian,’ I hope.”
The lieutenant shook her hand again. “You’re one civilian who can operate in my town anytime!”
Bess grinned. “Does this mean Nancy’s cleared?”
“Absolutely!” he replied. “I’m calling a press conference to make sure that Nancy Drew gets full credit for the arrest.”
Excusing himself, Lieutenant Kowalski went off to question the Macklins. Ned led Nancy and her friends back to his car.
“I just had a wild idea, Nan,” said George with a grin. “Why don’t you write up this news story for the Times?”
“Yeah!” Bess giggled. “Can’t you just see the expression on Brenda’s face when she finds out that Nancy Drew scooped her in her own newspaper?”
Nancy laughed out loud. “I’ll consider it, gang.” Smoothing her tangled hair, she added, “But first I’m going to wash this black dye out of my hair.”
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.” Ned pulled her to him with a warm, one-armed hug. “Besides, I’d hate it to get around that I’ve been dating Brenda Carlton!”
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Simon Pulse / An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
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Copyright © 1990 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
ISBN: 978-0-6716-7495-3 (pbk) / ISBN: 978-
1-4814-2800-2 (eBook)
NANCY DREW and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
THE NANCY DREW FILES is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Carolyn Keene, False Impressions
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