Lisa dropped into the copilot’s seat. Her right hand seized the control column. Her gaze took in every flight instrument at a glance. All at once, the Huey stopped its mad whirling. Nancy helped the wounded pilot out of his chair.
“Nancy!” Wide-eyed, Lisa pointed at two U-shaped handles rising from the console beside her seat. These were the thrust levers, which controlled the power output of the chopper’s twin engines. “Push those—quick! We’re losing airspeed! If we stall, we’ll drop right into the volcano!”
Now Kilauea’s throaty roar smothered all sound. A titanic fire fountain gushed out of the crater. Hot lava spattered the Huey. The Plexiglas windscreen began to bubble and melt.
Grabbing the thrust levers, Nancy threw her weight against them. The helicopter turbines answered the volcano with a roar of their own. Lisa turned the control column to the left. The Huey veered away from the volcano, cutting a path through the swirl of steam and smoke. Nancy held her breath, listening to Kilauea’s angry bellow.
Suddenly the steam outside the cockpit gave way to a star-studded sky.
With a sigh of thanksgiving, Nancy slumped to the cockpit floor.
When—if—we get back home, she told herself, I’m going to learn to fly a chopper. An airplane pilot’s license isn’t enough anymore.
Then she remembered the wounded pilot. Grabbing the microphone, Nancy chanted, “Mayday! Mayday! We have an in-flight emergency. Wounded man aboard.”
“Tell them I’m heading for Hilo airport,” added Lisa.
Nancy did so, then requested paramedics and an ambulance. She tossed the microphone aside and grabbed the cockpit’s first-aid kit. Pressing a gauze bandage to the pilot’s bullet wound, she cast a final glance at Kilauea, now a fiery smudge on the horizon. The volcano thundered in farewell.
• • •
The next morning Nancy and Ned waited in the copying room at Windward Fidelity Bank. Peering through the little window, Nancy surveyed the vacant conference room. She smiled to herself, remembering the tearful reunion at the Hilo police station the previous night—how Lisa had rushed, sobbing, into the arms of her mother and grandmother. The expressions on the faces of the Faulkner women had made it all worthwhile.
“Think Jack will be able to lure them all in here?” Ned whispered.
“Sure,” Nancy replied. “No one knows the Faulkners are still on the Big Island. They haven’t heard from Alice since yesterday. They’ll be here.”
Muffled voices sounded in the distance, and the suite door opened. Ross, Mitsuo, and Amy walked in, trailed by Jack Showalter.
“What’s this all about, Showalter?” Ross asked irritably. “And where is Alice? Not even Lester can find her.”
“What did Mrs. Faulkner tell you, Jack?” asked Mitsuo.
Jack’s face looked glum. “She’s made up her mind. She’s not selling those shares.”
“That woman is a fool!” Amy cried. “She’s doomed her own granddaughter!”
Then Nancy burst into the conference room. “Wrong! Her granddaughter’s just fine, Ms. Sorenson. She’s down in Hilo, safe and sound. Not inside the Kilauea volcano as you intended!”
Amy’s eyes widened in disbelief. She whitened and swayed on her high heels. At that moment, Tim and Martin came through the other door. Tim set a tape recorder on the table. Martin flashed his badge, adding, “Honolulu P.D. Have a seat, gentlemen. We’d like you to hear something.”
“What’s the meaning of this?” Ross asked huffily.
“Ms. Sorenson is an embezzler,” Nancy said. “She chartered herself as the Malihini Corporation, tapped into your bank’s money, and used it against you.”
Amy tossed her hair defiantly. “Preposterous!”
Tim took an onionskin paper out of his breast pocket and showed it to Mitsuo. “This is a shipping manifest made out to the Malihini Corporation. Look at the signature on the bottom. Whose handwriting is that?”
Mouth agape, Mitsuo stared at it. “It—it’s Amy’s!”
Martin asked, “Sir, will you swear to that in a court of law?”
“Let me see.” Ross snatched the paper away. His face turned white. “Amy! What is this?”
“It’s nothing.” Amy sneered, glaring at Nancy. “There are no laws against incorporating yourself in the Cayman Islands.”
Ross stared at her, aghast. “You betrayed us! You stole our money and used it to mess up the Konalani project. You tried to make the bank fail!”
“Prove it!” Amy spat. “There’s no charge against me. I’m leaving!”
“Not so fast.” Nancy slapped an envelope into her hand. “This is a warrant for your arrest.”
Outraged, Amy flipped it open. “On what charge?”
“Attempted murder, kidnapping, and extortion,” Nancy replied, folding her arms. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Her green eyes glittering, Amy ripped the document into little pieces. “It’s your word against mine, Drew. No court will ever convict me.”
“We’ll see about that.” Nancy reached across the table and flicked on the tape recorder. Amy flinched as her own voice filled the conference room.
“Mind if I have a look at that bond? I can tell right off if it belonged to Diana.”
Amy stood transfixed, a look of mingled alarm and horror crossing her face. Nancy let it play until Lisa’s voice came on, then switched it off.
“It’s true you can’t convict with just a tape,” Nancy told the woman, “but when the tape is admitted with eyewitness testimony from Lisa and Marilee—well . . .”
Tim began the litany of arrest. “You have the right to remain silent . . .”
Nancy stepped aside to let them pass. A sullen, handcuffed Amy marched between the two detectives. The astounded bankers followed them out. Then, with a sigh of relief, Nancy squeezed Ned’s hand and started downstairs.
• • •
The evening tide rolled into Ala Wai. Lounging in her deck chair, Nancy could feel the Kahala straining against her moorings. She grinned at Ned, who was setting their supper tray on the transom.
“Did Bess and George say what time they’d be back?” Nancy asked.
Ned handed her a hamburger. “Not really. You know how Bess is when she goes shopping.” His eyes gleamed. “I won’t complain if they’re late.”
Just then Alice Faulkner’s voice called out. “Ahoy the Kahala!”
Peering over the rail, Nancy saw her on the walkway. Ned quickly put the supper tray aside, and he and Nancy hustled down to meet her.
“I came to say goodbye,” Alice told them smilingly. “Diana, Lisa, and I are going on a round-the-world cruise.” Her smile deepened. “Sort of a get-to-know-you cruise, I guess. We’re going to try to be a family again. A real family.”
“How are things at the bank?” Nancy asked. Alice sighed softly. “Better. We took a little beating in the stock market when the news broke. But it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.” Then she took Nancy’s hands. “I can’t thank you enough, my dear. Because of you, I have my granddaughter—and my daughter—back again.” Her gaze went from Nancy to Ned. “What are your plans now?”
“We’ll be flying out in a few days,” Ned replied. “Heading back to River Heights.”
There was a merry twinkle in Alice’s eyes, “Well, since you’ll be here in the Islands for a bit, why don’t you take the Kahala out on the open sea?”
Nancy blinked in surprise. “Mrs. Faulkner, that’s awfully generous of you, but we couldn’t—”
“I insist.” Alice pressed an ignition key into Nancy’s hand. “Go on. You earned it. Consider it a bonus for a job well done. You might consider sailing to Maui,” Alice added, a fond smile on her lips. “My late husband and I loved that trip.”
Then she walked back to the parking lot, her step as light and lively as a young girl’s.
Nancy and Ned stood alone on the wharf. A breeze stirred Ned’s hair. He smiled, sliding his hands around Nancy’s waist.
“I wonder what Maui
looks like in the moonlight,” he whispered.
Nancy lifted her face, waiting to receive his kiss.
“Let’s find out, Ned.”
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 © 1988 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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THE NANCY DREW FILES is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Carolyn Keene, Sinister Paradise
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