Read Hot Pursuit Page 5


  As Nancy pulled on her bicycle shorts, she told George about her conversation with Gibbs, and about the questions she still had about the Hot Rods’ involvement with him. Pulling her hair high into a ponytail, she asked, “Where’s Bess?”

  “Off shopping with Courtney. Not even her love for the Hot Rods could get Bess on a bicycle,” George said, grinning.

  When Nancy was ready, the two girls went down through the lobby to join the other bikers, who were assembling on the circular drive outside. Two staff members were leading the trip—a jovial, burly man who introduced himself as Daniel and was handing out water bottles and helmets, and Vincent, who was in charge of assigning ten-speeds to the riders.

  When Nancy got to the front of the bike line, she saw the spark of recognition in Vincent’s eyes. He didn’t say anything as he sized her up and handed her a bike.

  Nancy gripped the handlebars and hopped onto the bike. She watched as Vincent chose bikes for George, Ricky, and Woody.

  “Let’s roll!” Woody said, pedaling backward on his bike.

  Tucker pulled a helmet over his unruly blond hair, then flicked a thumb toward Woody, mumbling, “What a clown.”

  “I hope you guys are ready for a real workout,” George said with a laugh. “I hear that the first half of the trip is uphill.”

  They all rolled their bikes into line as Daniel instructed the riders on the route. The first leg of the trip required steady exertion. Fortunately, the exercise would be offset by the gorgeous view. Tropical green forest rose steeply on one side, and the turquoise Caribbean sparkled below the rocky cliff on the other.

  After winding steadily uphill for about half an hour, Nancy came around a curve to see Woody standing beside his bike at the edge of the road, looking out over a small cove that shimmered in the morning sun.

  “It seems like there’s a bay hidden around every bend in the road,” she commented breathlessly, pulling up next to him.

  “Yeah,” Woody agreed. “Practically every inch of this place looks like it belongs on a postcard. It could be very romantic,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. “You know what I mean?”

  Nancy laughed. She was flattered by Woody’s attention, but she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. “It is romantic. I only wish my boyfriend were here to enjoy it.”

  “Uh-oh, I know that look. I can tell you’re crazy about this guy. Why didn’t he come along?”

  “He’s in school,” she explained. “Ned’s a student at Emerson College. It’s in the Midwest, where we’re from.” Just talking about Ned made Nancy realize how much she missed him.

  “A college guy, huh?” Woody glanced out over the water, suddenly thoughtful. “I guess you’ve heard about my romantic blues.”

  Glancing awkwardly at Woody, Nancy admitted, “I’m afraid it’s worse than that. We happened to walk past you and Courtney last night on our way through the gardens.”

  “Oops.” Woody grimaced. “I’m sure that wasn’t a pretty sight.”

  Nancy shrugged. “Every relationship has its ups and downs.” She didn’t want to probe into anything that was none of her business.

  “That’s for sure.” Woody frowned. “And I guess you could say that Courtney and I have hit the down part. It’s bad enough that she’s here on the same island, but when I see her with Gibbs . . .” He shook his head. “That guy is bad news.”

  Nancy studied Woody’s serious expression and wondered again if his words were prompted only by jealousy, or by something more. “How long have you known Gibbs?” she asked.

  “I just met him the other night at the party he threw for us.”

  “Then what makes you think he could cause trouble?” she persisted.

  Woody raked a hand through his red hair. “I guess I don’t think Gibbs is such a bad guy,” he admitted, still gazing out at the water. “But he does have a reputation for living in the fast lane. He could break Courtney’s heart without thinking twice.” Woody became silent for a minute, and his forehead creased in a frown. “At the risk of sounding like the jealous boyfriend, I hate to think of her being hurt by that guy,” he added quietly.

  Nancy nodded sympathetically. Woody and Courtney seemed to care about each other, and it was sad that they couldn’t work things out. At least Woody had answered one of her questions. It was jealousy—not some weird plot at the resort—that was at the root of his complaints against Gibbs. Maybe the friction between Ricky and the resort owner was being caused by something just as simple.

  Then another thought occurred to Nancy. “Do you think that Gibbs could have anything to do with the negative publicity you guys have been getting lately?” she asked Woody.

  “Oh, the rumors about the skeletons in our closets and all the squabbling between us?” Woody chuckled. “No, I’m afraid that we manage to generate those stories without any help from people like Gibbs.”

  Woody glanced down the road behind them to see if anyone was nearby. Realizing they were alone, he explained, “I’m afraid a lot of the problems between us are my fault. Tucker and Ricky got pretty upset when Courtney and I started seeing each other. She used to tour with us, and she and I ended up jamming together a lot. They were afraid I would split up the band to become a duo with Courtney.”

  “Was that your plan?”

  His green eyes widened. “No! I was crazy about Courtney, but I’d never perform without the guys. We’re a team. I was pretty ticked off that they couldn’t accept her, but that’s all behind us now. We’re making this video, and we’re supposed to go back into the studio to cut a new record in a few months. And speaking of videos,” he added, turning his back toward the road, “we’d better get going. If we don’t catch up to the camera crew, those two hotdogs will hog the video!”

  Nancy and Woody pedaled to the summit of the hill, where they found the rest of the group resting and watching the video crew. Ricky and Tucker were trying to outdo each other with bicycle stunts in a grassy field. The ruins of an old stone mansion made a picturesque backdrop. The camera caught all the action, while the director shouted out instructions.

  While Woody wheeled into the center of the group and started making faces for the camera, Nancy sat down in the grass beside George to watch. By the time the cameraman decided he’d shot enough, the sun was high in the sky.

  “At least the trip back is mostly downhill,” Nancy said as she swung onto her bike.

  “But it’s getting hot,” George said, spritzing her face with a water bottle. “I can’t wait to get back and go swimming.”

  “Great idea.” Woody unstrapped the water bottle from his bike and squeezed, squirting Ricky in the face.

  “Hey!” Ricky grabbed his bottle and aimed it at Woody. Others joined in as they began coasting down the road. Nancy and George were still laughing when they approached the first sharp curve in the road.

  Daniel, who had handed out the water bottles at the start of the trip, shouted back to the group, “Careful on the curves. You’ll pick up speed going downhill.”

  Nancy coasted ahead until she was beside Ricky. She wanted to talk to him about Gibbs, but hadn’t had a minute alone with him so far during the trip. “Do you mind coasting so we can talk awhile?” she asked him.

  “No problem. I’d rather go slow, anyway,” he said, his eyes on the gravelly road. “These turns make me a little queasy.”

  They rounded the first curve, and Ricky’s bike swept near the outer side of the road, sweeping pebbles aside. Nancy’s stomach sank as she watched them bounce over the rocky cliffside.

  “Take it easy,” Nancy warned Ricky. For someone who was nervous on the turns, he was steering dangerously close to the cliff edge.

  “I can’t,” he said, slipping ahead of her.

  “What?” Nancy had to go faster to catch up with him. She shifted to a higher gear but still couldn’t match his speed. “Ricky, slow down!”

  “I can’t!” he shouted, glancing back at her frantically. “I can’t slow down. Something’s w
rong with my brakes!”

  Ricky’s bike shot down the road like a bullet. Nancy watched in horror as his front wheel hit a rock, sending the bike wobbling to the cliff side of the road again. Gravel and dust sprayed the air as Ricky skidded dangerously close to the steep precipice, then gained control only inches from the edge.

  Nancy pedaled furiously to keep him in sight. Ahead, the road suddenly veered to the left. At the speed Ricky was going, he’d never be able to maneuver the turn. And the sheer drop over the edge led to a rocky cove hundreds of feet below!

  “Nancy, help me!” Ricky screamed. “My bike is out of control!”

  Chapter

  Eight

  THE WIND WHISTLED past Nancy’s ears. She was going dangerously fast, but she didn’t want to let Ricky get out of her sight. Nancy watched as he leaned forward, squeezing the brake grips even harder. It didn’t help. He was still shooting toward the edge of the road—and the rocky cliff.

  “Rub your foot against the tire!” Nancy shouted. She hoped he could hear, since the wind must have been roaring in his ears, too.

  Nancy held her breath as Ricky moved his foot back and placed the sole of one sneaker against the tire. A screeching noise of rubber against rubber ripped into the air, but Nancy thought the bicycle slowed a bit. There was a thread of smoke, but Ricky kept his sneaker firmly against the whizzing tire.

  Finally the bike slowed enough for Ricky to bring it under control. When he reached the bend in the road, he lowered one foot to the pavement and forced the bike to a spinning halt.

  The brakes on Nancy’s bike creaked when she pulled up beside him. Her heart was racing as she asked him, “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” he panted, getting off his bicycle, letting it clatter to the ground. Ricky’s hands shook, and he doubled over, trying to catch his breath. He looked unharmed but was obviously badly shaken.

  “I don’t know what happened,” he said to Nancy. “One minute I was riding along, talking to you—the next, I was ripping down the hill.”

  Nancy picked up Ricky’s bike and examined the brake cable. It was severed. “You won’t be using this bike again today.” She showed him the ruined cable.

  “How could that happen?” he asked, frowning. “Do brakes just wear down like that?”

  Nancy shook her head. “Not usually. But there are signs of wear on the plastic casing around the wires.”

  Ricky’s face had gone completely white, and he glanced nervously up the road behind them. “Do you think someone was trying to kill me?” he asked in a shaky voice.

  Not wanting to alarm him needlessly, Nancy just said, “The cable was tattered, not cleanly cut, so the brakes could have worn down naturally.”

  But she couldn’t rule out the possibility that someone had tampered with the brake line. The wires could have been shaved down until the line was held together only by a thread. That way, the cable would snap under pressure, when Ricky was well on his way down the dangerous road. What she didn’t understand was why anyone would do it.

  While Nancy was checking Ricky’s brakes, the other riders began to cluster around them. Daniel arranged for Ricky to ride on the back of one of the motor scooters. Nancy noticed that Ricky was still visibly shaken and kept shooting anxious looks over his shoulder, as if he were afraid something else might happen.

  Vincent, who was bringing up the rear, arrived on the scene just after Ricky left on one of the motor scooters. Nancy quickly told him what had happened. When she showed him the tattered brake cable, Vincent seemed shocked. He immediately instructed all the other riders to stop and check their bikes before they could proceed. Then he led the remaining bikers down the hill.

  “Whew,” George whistled, eyeing the ruined cable. “No brakes on a twisting road like this? He could have been killed.”

  Nancy gave her friend a sidelong glance. “I wonder if that was exactly what someone was trying to do.”

  • • •

  “Poor Ricky!” Bess gasped. “Does he know someone is out to get him?”

  “I think he’s afraid of that,” Nancy answered. She and George were filling Bess in on the details of the bike trip as the girls crowded in the bathroom to wash up for their late lunch. “But we can’t be sure that someone cut the brake cables,” Nancy reminded her. “It could have been an accident.”

  “Let’s just say for a minute that someone did tamper with those brakes,” George suggested. Wrapped in a fluffy towel after her shower, she was running a comb through her wet hair. “Who would want to hurt Ricky?”

  Nancy’s brow crinkled as she concentrated. “I don’t know,” she said. “The band seems to have its problems, but I don’t think Tucker or Woody would do something that drastic just to get out of their contract. I talked to Woody just before, and he said he was committed to the band. But if he or Tucker were desperate enough, they would have had the opportunity.”

  “Not Tucker!” Bess insisted. She leaned forward to check her lipstick in the mirror above the sink. “He’s the sweetest, cutest guy you’d ever want to meet. I mean, I know everyone’s a suspect, but I sure hope it’s not Tucker.”

  “Me, too,” Nancy agreed. “I really like the guys in the band, but then we did see Woody argue with Ricky, too.”

  George headed into the bedroom to change. “And Ricky is definitely on edge about something,” she called over her shoulder. “Even before the bike accident, he seemed nervous.”

  Nancy checked her pink T-shirt and white shorts in the mirror before following George back into the bedroom. “And then there’s Courtney. She doesn’t get along with Ricky or Tucker. In fact, Tucker didn’t seem to like her at all at their party. He thinks she came to Pineapple Grove just to get in Woody’s way.”

  “But Courtney couldn’t have messed with Ricky’s bike,” Bess said from the bathroom door. “She was out shopping with me.”

  “True, but Courtney Brooks does seem to be at the center of many of the Hot Rods’ problems.” Nancy recounted what Woody had told her about the band’s resentment of the singer.

  “It wasn’t her fault,” Bess said emphatically. “She fell in love with Woody. The other guys should have understood that.”

  George smiled at her cousin. “Bess Marvin—sucker for romance.”

  “I keep thinking of Vincent, too,” Nancy continued. “He was in charge of assigning the bicycles. He could have deliberately given Ricky a bike with worn brakes.”

  “But why would Vincent want to get rid of Ricky?” George asked. “They barely know each other.”

  Nancy shrugged. “It is kind of confusing,” she said with a sigh. “And I’m too hungry to come up with any theories right now.”

  “Me, too,” said George, tucking a short-sleeved knit shirt into her shorts. “Let’s eat!”

  When the girls reached the dining terrace, they went straight to the buffet table, which was still set up with fish and breads and tropical fruits.

  Nancy scanned the outdoor terrace, then smiled and waved when she saw Woody. “Great, it looks like the band wants us to join them.”

  • • •

  “We saved the seats of honor for our favorite female trio,” Woody said as the girls arrived at their table.

  “An adorable trio,” Tucker said with a winning smile. He stood up and pulled out the chair beside him for Bess, who blushed as she sat down.

  “He’s right,” Woody agreed. “Have you girls ever considered going into show business? Nancy and the Drewettes—has a nice ring to it. Can any of you carry a tune?”

  “I love to sing,” Bess volunteered. “And I’m a perfect soprano—in the shower.”

  Everyone laughed, then continued eating. Nancy was sitting next to Ricky, and she was relieved to see that he had recovered from his incident that morning. The color had returned to his face, but she did notice that the look in his brown eyes was strained and tired.

  Leaning toward him, Nancy asked, “Are you feeling better?”

  Ricky nodded. “But I’m still a
little shaken up. Thanks for your help up on that hill today.”

  “That’s for sure,” Tucker agreed. “If it weren’t for Nancy, our buddy could’ve been killed.”

  Woody nodded. “That was a close call. Thanks for keeping an eye on Ricky, Nancy.”

  “No problem,” she said quickly, feeling embarrassed by the praise.

  Nancy was polishing off a cookie later when she noticed that Woody’s good humor had faded. His expression was hard as he stared at something behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she immediately saw what had upset him. Steve Gibbs and Courtney Brooks had just sat down to lunch at the next table.

  “Not again,” Woody groaned, covering his face with his hands.

  Tucker winced when he noticed Courtney and Steve. “Gee! I wish she’d get lost.”

  Beside Nancy, Ricky still seemed preoccupied. He looked distractedly at the couple for a moment, but didn’t seem to see them. Then Nancy saw him fix on something with a sudden intensity.

  “What?” Ricky’s dark eyes narrowed as he stared. “I can’t believe it,” he said, jumping to his feet so abruptly that his chair fell back and clattered onto the flagstone floor.

  “What’s wrong, Ricky?” Tucker asked.

  But Ricky didn’t seem to hear the question. Red fury colored his face, and his fists were clenched as he pushed past the table and lunged at Courtney, reaching for her throat!

  Chapter

  Nine

  AS RICKY’S HANDS closed in on the singer, Courtney managed to push her chair to the side and jump up to avoid him. “What are you doing?” she screamed, her hand flying protectively to her throat.

  Woody and Tucker jumped up and rushed over, grabbing Ricky and holding him back. “Take it easy!” Woody shouted. At the same time, Gibbs stood abruptly and tossed his napkin onto the table. “What’s happening here?”