Victor shook his head. “Nothing very useful.”
“But something,” Nancy persisted.
Victor shrugged and gave Nancy a sideways look that said she wasn’t behaving properly. “We did match the hair to a sample from Caitlin’s brush, and the handwriting on the note matches the one Sean got from the bird on the mound.”
“What about the box?” Nancy tried again. “Were there prints?” She had been hoping she and Delgado could help each other. Now the agent seemed to be holding out on her.
“The only prints were from the delivery boy,” Victor said, his voice rising impatiently. “He said the box was left outside the office with some money and instructions. No one at the courier service saw who put it there.”
Nancy sighed. This was harder than interviewing a suspect.
“What about Rebecca?” she asked, trying to keep her voice friendly. “Have you found her family?”
“Yes, her parents are in New Hampshire,” Victor said brusquely. “They didn’t know anything, but they’re coming here. And now, if you don’t mind, I’ll ask the questions.”
Nancy frowned and leaned back in her chair.
Victor seemed to relax. “I want to know what else you’ve stumbled across.”
“I found out that Rebecca was forced to leave a job at the Roost after she was caught stealing from the cash register at a concession stand,” Nancy said stiffly. “It’s possible she’s not a victim after all.”
There was a flash of interest in Victor’s eyes. “We learned the same thing,” he said, sounding almost friendly. “We also found out that was the second time she had to leave a job for stealing.”
“When was the first time?” Nancy asked excitedly, forgetting for a moment that she wasn’t supposed to ask questions.
Victor’s frown returned. “Six months ago she worked as a clerk in a clothing store,” he growled. “The manager caught her taking money from the till. Same as the Roost, basically.”
Nancy longed for a few more details, but Victor wasn’t offering them. “Then she really is a thief,” she said calmly.
“That doesn’t mean she’s a kidnapper, though,” Victor said, lecturing her.
“I know,” Nancy said simply. “She could have been set up, but I began to doubt that theory after I saw her apartment.”
Victor eyed her suspiciously.
“I know you were there, too,” Nancy said. She’d finally had enough of Victor’s overbearing manner.
Victor leaned back so that the front legs of his chair came off the floor, and rolled his eyes at the ceiling.
“I went there yesterday,” Nancy said coldly. “I picked up a writing sample you can use—if you need it.” Her statement seemed to take Victor by surprise. The front legs of his chair hit the floor with a thud.
“We have our own,” Victor said wryly. Nancy saw the twinkle in his eye and his tone seemed to soften slightly. “We lifted prints and a handwriting sample from her apartment that confirmed the shopping list you found was written by her. Unfortunately, that doesn’t help us much.”
“But there was another interesting thing I found in her apartment,” Nancy said. “There were no Yummy Bunnies there, so I doubt she bought them for herself.”
Victor studied his folded hands, a smile creeping over his lips. “I guess McGinnis was right about you,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “And Nunn, too. He said you were a pretty sharp cookie after you figured out his radio system.”
“You didn’t look for Yummy Bunnies, did you?” Nancy guessed, hoping her observation would not make him angry.
Victor shook his head, and then grabbed a yellow notepad and pencil. “You beat me on the Yummy Bunnies,” he said. “So what do we have?”
Nancy felt like shouting for joy. The ice between them had been broken, and Victor was taking her seriously.
“Rebecca could have made the shopping list while getting ready to keep Caitlin,” Nancy said. “And what about the clay? There was gray clay at both Sean’s house and Rebecca’s apartment.”
“The two samples matched,” Victor said, raising his pencil. “Unfortunately, although clay is unusual in this area, it’s not rare enough to match to any one location.”
“Is there anything new on the Zabowskis?” Nancy asked, leaning forward.
“We’re still following them, but they’re moving down on our suspect list,” Delgado said. “They haven’t done anything suspicious, and we know neither of them left the package with the lock of Caitlin’s hair, because we were following them at the time.”
“I guess you heard about the call Sean got last night?” Nancy pressed.
Victor scowled. “We put a recorder on the phone in the locker room early this morning,” he said.
Nancy raised her eyebrows but decided not to comment. “All right,” she said after a pause, “that leaves Stormy, Rod, and Rebecca as suspects, but unless one of them makes a move, we’re no closer to solving this than we were two days ago.”
“I agree,” Victor said, turning grim.
“I have a meeting with Stormy at five,” Nancy said smugly. “I told her I’m a reporter. Maybe I can find out something that will break this case.”
“Good luck,” Victor said, rising from his chair. “I wish I’d thought of that.”
“Thanks,” Nancy said, pushing her own chair back. “And one more thing, how did you find me at the mall?”
Victor took the two steps to the door but didn’t open it. “Guess,” he said, grinning.
“You’ve been following me,” Nancy said, watching his expression. “But for how long?”
“Since you left the parking garage on Sunday night. Don’t worry, though, you’re not a suspect,” Victor said. “I just want to keep you out of trouble.”
Nancy swallowed hard. She knew the FBI was doing its job, but still she felt angry. She could feel the blood rush into her face and her cheeks turn bright red. It was as though the spark of friendship between them had just been doused.
“Sorry,” Victor said apologetically, seeing her anger rise. “But I didn’t know who I was dealing with when I met you. You could have turned out to be a loose cannon.”
“Then you agree that I’m not,” Nancy snapped.
“Now, wait a minute,” Victor said, raising his hands in the air. “I didn’t say that. I’m just not so sure anymore.”
“So you don’t mind if I interview Stormy?”
“Not as long as you tell me what she says,” Victor replied.
“I’m sure we can find a way to meet,” Nancy said lightly, reaching for the door.
“I don’t suppose you’d pay any attention if I told you to be careful?” Victor said smoothly.
“I think anyone would be careful if she knew she had the FBI on her tail,” Nancy replied, stepping out of the van. When she turned the corner, she peeked back and saw Victor smiling at her.
Nancy found herself watching her rearview mirror as she drove back to Andy’s Arcade. She saw nothing suspicious. Still, the idea that she had been followed for two days without knowing it was hard for her to take.
She pulled into the strip mall, but this time, instead of parking out front, she took a right turn and followed a narrow drive to additional parking tucked behind a Chinese restaurant. This lot was nearly empty, and Nancy pulled her car into a space in the back corner.
She got out and made a quick visual check of her surroundings. Then, starting at the driver’s side, Nancy began to work her way around the Mustang, feeling carefully under the front bumper and the wheel wells.
She was inching her way around the-back bumper on the passenger’s side when her fingers touched something hard and square.
Nancy pulled out a small, metal box with strong magnets on one side. She didn’t need to examine it more. She knew it was a transmitter!
Chapter
Thirteen
NO WONDER she hadn’t seen her tail, Nancy thought. The FBI had been tracking her electronically. She carefully replaced the box
, wondering if Victor was good enough to know she had discovered his secret. There was no one in sight as she started toward Andy’s Arcade.
“Nancy, we thought you’d been kidnapped,” Bess said from the large, semicircular booth where she sat with George, Luke, and Sean. Across the room teens were working the levers at a bank of arcade games. “What happened to you?”
Nancy glanced at her watch and realized she was almost forty-five minutes late.
“We were about to send the FBI after you,” George said, joking.
“That wouldn’t have helped,” Nancy said. “They were the reason I was late.”
“Is there news?” Sean asked eagerly.
Nancy saw a young man in an Andy’s Arcade apron start across the room toward them. She asked for fish ‘n’ chips and a soda and waited while each of her friends placed their orders. Then she told them about her visit to the FBI mobile command center and finding the transmitter on her car.
When the food arrived, George asked, “Want to go to the park after lunch? Luke’s going to teach me how to throw a knuckleball.”
Luke smiled over his double cheeseburger. “She’s a natural. She’ll pick it up easy.”
“Let’s all go,” Nancy replied.
“I’m game,” Bess agreed, daintily picking up a french fry.
“Leave me out.” Sean frowned. “I’m going back home. Lunch is a nice break, but I really need to stay by the phone.”
After that Sean remained silent, though when they left the restaurant he followed Nancy to her car.
“I’m getting scared,” he said, his face pale. “If we lose the game tomorrow, the series will be over. The Rangers will have won, and the kidnappers won’t need Caitlin anymore.”
“Then Caitlin can come back home,” Nancy said quietly.
“Maybe,” Sean said. “But let’s not forget that Caitlin probably knows who the kidnappers are. They might not let her go.”
It was a possibility, unless Nancy could solve the case before the series was over.
“You could win the game,” Nancy said. “Then the series would continue.”
Sean frowned. “No, I can’t—not when they’ve told me to lose.” He wanted to say more, Nancy could tell, but couldn’t.
“We’ll find her,” Nancy told him firmly. But after he’d gone, she couldn’t help wondering if they would.
• • •
Twenty minutes later Bess and Nancy settled on the grass under an oak tree in River Park. Luke pulled George’s Falcons cap down over her eyes and the two were quickly caught up in a game of chase, which Luke soon won, tackling George.
It was good to see someone having fun, Nancy thought. She and Bess watched as Luke leaned over George’s shoulder, showing her how to hold the ball.
“I think I’ve got it.” George laughed, holding the ball in the air with her knuckles aligned along the seams.
Luke backed up to catch George’s pitches, which were clumsy at first.
“You’ve got to fire them in here,” he urged as he tossed the ball back to her. “Come on, show me your stuff.”
George made an exaggerated windup and then giggled when Luke had to run down her wild pitch.
Nancy remembered when Ned had brought her to this same park to show her how to throw a football. That seemed like ages ago. It would be nice to have him here now.
“That’s it!” Luke yelled, jumping to his feet as one of George’s pitches finally cooked. “You’re not ready for the majors yet, but you’ve got the basics. Anyone for a soda?” he called, walking toward Nancy and Bess.
“Thanks, but I’ve got an interview to get ready for,” Nancy said, checking her watch.
“I’m out, too,” Bess said as they got to their feet.
“That leaves you,” Luke said, turning to George with a grin.
“Sounds good to me,” George said. “As long as you promise to call me if anything important happens, Nancy.”
Nancy agreed, and George and Luke headed for his car hand-in-hand.
Nancy dropped off Bess and got to her house just as the phone was ringing. She answered it casually and was taken by surprise.
“Nancy?” It was Ned. “I was about to hang up.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” she said, sighing.
“What have you been up to?” he asked. “It seems like forever since we’ve talked. I bet you have another case by now.”
“Of course,” Nancy replied. “I had to do something to stay busy while you were gone.” Then she told him about the kidnapping.
“So, tell me about Sean,” Ned said. “He’s supposed to be really something.”
She could detect a touch of jealousy in his tone, and smiled. “Why don’t you come home and meet him?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Ned said. “How does Thursday sound? They’re letting me out of here a couple days early, and I think I can make it for the last game of the series.”
“I just hope the Falcons don’t lose it tomorrow,” she said. “But let’s think positively. It’s a date.”
Nancy hung up, praying that the kidnapping would be solved by then. She changed into a pair of slacks, a white blouse, and a jacket, and took a stenographer’s pad and pencil from her father’s desk. Then she left the house and drove to the River’s Edge Lodge.
The restaurant was connected to the lobby. As soon as she pushed through the glass doors, she spotted Stormy. The Rangers owner was already at a round table in the center of the room. She was wearing black pants and a blue T-shirt with a picture of a cartoon cowboy stepping on a bird that looked a little like Freddy the Falcon.
Nancy introduced herself and pulled up a chair across from Stormy.
“I hope you’re going to cover our victory tomorrow,” Stormy said.
“You seem awfully confident,” Nancy commented as she pulled her chair in. A large platter of boiled shrimp sat between them.
“I’m always confident,” Stormy returned loudly, cracking open a shrimp and gulping it down. A few customers turned and frowned at her. “We’re number one,” she chanted, raising her arms to address the entire restaurant and succeeding only in antagonizing the other customers.
Nancy smiled.
“I understand you need this win,” she said, putting her notebook on the table.
“Who doesn’t need a win?” Stormy said, leaning close to Nancy. “It’s what baseball’s all about.” And then as an afterthought she added, “Have some shrimp.”
Nancy smiled but waved the food away. “The paper said this win is especially important to you,” she pressed.
“You mean my money problems,” Stormy answered, brushing her hand through the air as if to wave the comment away.
“What about them?” Nancy pressed. “Obviously, you’ve heard the rumors.”
“Nonsense, absolute nonsense,” Stormy said.
“Then you’re not having financial problems?”
“Certainly not,” Stormy snapped.
“And the television deal?”
“Bad question,” Stormy said, dunking another shrimp in a bowl of hot sauce. “I’m not talking about TV tonight.”
Nancy scribbled on her pad, to make her reporter disguise appear real. “I was watching you in the stands yesterday,” Nancy said with a smile. “Do you always get to the games early?”
Stormy laughed heartily. “I try to,” she said. “But sometimes it doesn’t work out. Like Sunday when I had a flat tire on the way to the park. Can you believe it? I called my mechanic from the first pay phone I got to and told him heads would roll when I got back to Mill City.”
Nancy made another note on her pad. She wondered whether Stormy was telling the truth. If she was, she had an alibi for the time when Caitlin was kidnapped.
Stormy waved to a waitress and ordered another plate of shrimp. “Enough about baseball,” she said. “Let’s talk about me. Did you know that when I was twelve, I hit more home runs than anyone else in my city league? But they wouldn’t let me play once I got
to high school. So as soon as I could, I bought myself a team.”
Stormy continued chatting about herself while Nancy took notes obediently, hoping eventually to get back to more important subjects—such as whether Stormy had ever seen the inside of a Freddy the Falcon suit. She never got the chance.
Ten minutes later the waitress returned. “You have a phone call,” she said to Stormy.
The Rangers’ owner left the table without even excusing herself. She talked for only a few minutes at the phone on the hostess’s desk, said a few words to the waitress, and headed out the door.
Nancy was on her feet in an instant. She caught the waitress on her way to the kitchen. “Excuse me,” she said politely. “Did Ms. Tarver say where she was going?”
“I’m afraid not,” the waitress said. “But she did say you could have whatever you wanted and she’d pick up the tab.”
Nancy was instantly suspicious. She spotted a door that led directly to the parking lot, went through it to her car, and watched the front entrance of the River’s Edge Lodge.
About five minutes later she saw Stormy Tarver come out and slip behind the wheel of a black luxury sedan. Delgado had said the FBI was following Stormy, but Nancy couldn’t take a chance. She was certain the Rangers’ owner was on her way someplace important.
Nancy started up and pulled into traffic, following the black sedan.
Stormy turned right at the first intersection and drove north before turning again onto a quiet side street that wound through a residential area. She pulled to a stop at the edge of a park.
The park was just a block wide and about twice as long. Stormy parked near a bench. Behind it was a small rose garden and a grass-covered hillside that ended at the walk running alongside the next street.
Nancy rounded the end of the park and pulled into a lot on the upper edge. A row of trees and shrubs partially shielded her from Stormy. Guessing that Stormy was about to meet someone, she came up with a plan. She took the bag of clothes from the backseat and headed for the row of trees.
Stormy had taken a seat on the bench. Soon another car appeared, the vehicle stopped, and a man got out and approached the bench. Storm clouds had gathered, and the streetlights automatically came on. Nancy had to wait for the man to pass under a streetlight to identify him as Rod Sanders.