Nancy walked up to her and said, “I need some background information on Victory. Mr. Talbot told me to come down here and ask one of the ticketing agents to help me.”
“Your wish is my command.” Celia’s lips curved in a friendly smile. “What do you need to know?”
Nancy couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. Now that she’d decided on the management trainee program as the source for possible smugglers, she was even including Celia as a suspect. But it couldn’t be helped.
“I need to know everything,” Nancy told Celia. She began by asking basic questions about Victory’s operation—how many planes they had, a list of all their destinations, how many offices worldwide, how many employees, and so on.
Celia punched into the computer, pulling up the data Nancy had requested. While Celia’s fingers were flying over the computer keyboard and the printer was spewing out sheets of paper, Nancy casually asked, “How do you like the management trainee program?”
“It’s the best,” Celia said enthusiastically. “We have district offices all over the world, but because Preston Talbot’s in Seattle, the program’s most effective here. A friend of mine went straight from the program to become assistant to the district manager in Taiwan!”
“Wow.” Keeping her eyes on the lines of data on the computer screen, Nancy asked, “Did Mr. Talbot recommend your friend for the job?”
“I think so. No, wait—maybe it was Blake Maxell. Fm not sure. I just hope I get a job half as good as that one when I’m through with training.”
When the printer had finished, Celia ripped off the papers. “Is that everything?” she asked, handing the bundle to Nancy.
Remembering the 747 clue from Rod, Nancy said, “Just a minute. Could I get a list of all Victory’s seven forty-seven planes and their destinations?”
“Sure,” she said and quickly punched a series of buttons, and the information began coming off the printer.
Once Nancy had all the data she needed, she thanked Celia and headed for a quiet spot to study it. She flipped through page after page, groaning when she realized she was going to be spending most of the next day reading through all of it. After a few minutes she shoved the bulk of it aside and grabbed the list of Victory’s 747s.
The list was surprisingly long. Most of the huge jets flew overseas, but one of them was currently on a Seattle-New York route. She didn’t see how it could be used for smuggling goods from the Orient.
“The trouble is I’ve got too much information,” Nancy said, sighing as she folded up the printouts.
She stopped into the airport café that was located on a balcony above the main terminal. From there she had a bird’s-eye view of all Victory comings and goings. Nancy ordered a taco salad and tea and sat down to eat, her eyes on the single door that led to Victory’s inner offices and the baggage handling room.
She wondered how Bess’s second day of training was going. By the next evening Bess would be a full-fledged flight attendant. Nancy felt a pang of envy.
Nancy finished her meal, glanced at her watch, and saw that it was almost two. The morning shift ended at three-thirty, and, she had learned, Grant would be done that day at that time.
She spent the next hour reading through the printouts again, then gathered her things and headed to the employee parking lot.
Her rental car was right where she had parked it: near the center walkway and not too far from the exit gate. After climbing inside, Nancy clicked on her seat belt and flexed her hands around the wheel. She wasn’t going to let Grant Sweeney get away.
There he was, walking across the parking lot! Nancy slumped down in the seat, her pulse racing. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him pass right beside her car. He didn’t even glance her way. Peeking up, she saw him climb into a shiny red pickup with oversize wheels and a roll bar. “You’re going to be easy to see in that rig,” she said aloud, smiling, her eyes fixed on the red truck.
Sweeney pulled out of the parking lot and headed straight for the freeway. Nancy followed, keeping several cars between them. Then he turned off the freeway toward Seattle’s city center, weaving through the late-afternoon traffic.
Nancy was careful to stay in a different lane, a few cars back, following in his blind spot. But then a red light stopped Grant. There were no cars in front of Nancy, so she had to move up next to him. Desperately she tried to hang back, but horns blared from behind her.
That was all it took. Grant looked over, spied Nancy, and tore through the red light, tires spinning.
The oncoming traffic forced Nancy to wait. When the light changed, she stamped on the accelerator. She was pleased to see that Grant had gotten stopped again one block in front of her.
She pulled up two cars behind him. When the light changed he took off in another direction, and she followed.
They drove farther and farther from city center, heading toward the industrial area. Nancy could catch glimpses of Seattle’s waterfront between the buildings, but her eyes remained glued to the road and the red pickup in front of her.
Sweeney took a hard right. Nancy hung on his tail as they zigzagged through the hilly streets. Nancy was getting confused. Hadn’t they just gone this way? Why was he circling around?
Sweeney’s rig bumped over a series of railroad tracks. More cautiously, Nancy started to cross them.
Suddenly bells sounded and the black-and-white gates ahead began to lower. Stepping on the gas, Sweeney sped through them—and Nancy’s car was still racing forward.
She slammed on her brakes at the gate. But the rear of her car fish-tailed and began sliding sideways toward the tracks.
Nancy looked over her shoulder and screamed. The train was barreling straight down on her car!
Chapter
Eight
NANCY DESPERATELY TRIED to keep the car from sliding. The train’s horn blasted again, long and loud. Frantically she twisted the wheel. Her car came to a shuddering halt—inches from disaster— as the train thundered by.
Nancy ran her hands through her hair and closed her eyes. Grant Sweeney had led her into a trap, trying to kill her!
As the last car clattered by, Nancy turned her car around and started back toward Jennifer’s apartment. She had had enough for one day.
Jennifer was at the apartment when Nancy got there. “You look beat. Did something happen today? Tell me!”
The last thing Nancy wanted to do was get into a major discussion about the case with Jennifer. Luckily she was saved from answering when Miranda burst through the door.
“Whew! I’m exhausted,” she said. “That was the longest flight from Honolulu I’ve ever been on.”
“Well, it couldn’t have been because Linda Cotilla was on it. She was on my flight.” Jennifer rolled her eyes. “What a disaster. Don’t tell Bess, but Linda’s been assigned to the Seattle-Los Angeles trip. She’s going to be on our flight tomorrow, too.”
Miranda shook her head. “Poor Bess.”
“I tell you what—let’s make cookies,” Jennifer suggested, heading for the kitchen.
“Great idea,” Miranda and Nancy seconded, falling in behind her.
While the second batch of coconut macaroons was in the oven, Sean and Bess arrived. A huge smile was spread across Bess’s face.
“I passed!” she said triumphantly. “No problem.”
“Tomorrow’s the real test,” Miranda said. “You’re on a flight with Cotilla the Hun.”
“Oh, no. Really?” Bess looked around at them. “I hope you’re joking.”
“She can’t be that bad,” Nancy said, trying to assure her, but Miranda and Jennifer chorused together, “Oh, yes, she can!”
“Thanks for being so encouraging,” Bess said, deflated.
“But—remember Mark, that copilot I was telling you about?” Jennifer asked.
“Uh-huh,” Bess said without real interest.
“He’s on our flight tomorrow, too.”
“Yeah?” Bess sounded more interested.
&nbs
p; “We’ll have a couple of hours in L. A. Maybe we can all get together for lunch or something,” Jennifer said.
“Lunch. Great. Just what I need. Pizza last night, hamburgers the night before, cookies now —I’ll be a blimp before we get back to River Heights!”
“Don’t worry. I’m making a chef salad for dinner,” Miranda said. “I was just heading out to the store. You can load up on cookies and then graze on salad.”
“My kind of diet,” Bess said with a contented sigh.
• • •
They spent the rest of the evening relaxing and talking. Nancy was glad that the conversation had shifted away from her investigation. But after Miranda and Bess had gone to bed, Jennifer brought it up again.
“What happened today, Nancy?” she asked in the kitchen as they were putting the last dishes away. “Did you make any progress on the case? Who did you talk to? Did you see Mr. Talbot?”
Nancy felt boxed into a comer. Sean’s eyes were on her, and she hardly knew what to say. “I think you were right about the smuggling, Jennifer,” she finally admitted reluctantly.
“Really?” Jennifer sounded beside herself with excitement. “I knew it! I just knew it! Oh, I wish I could have been there with you. I’m absolutely dying to help!”
“Look, Jen,” Sean said, shrugging into his coat. “Nancy’s the detective. Why don’t you just let her do her job and get on with it?”
Jennifer paused, taken aback. “What? This is happening to Victory, Sean! Our airline! Don’t you even care?”
“Of course I care. But I’m not crazy enough to think I can do a better job than Nancy. You asked her to come here and solve this thing. Well, why don’t you just let her do it?”
“I think I can handle myself, thanks,” Jennifer said, her voice rising. “And who made you my keeper?” Jennifer demanded furiously. “You don’t have to look out for me!”
“Fine.” Sean cut her off and strode out the front door, slamming it behind him.
Tears filled Jennifer’s eyes. “What does he know, anyway?” she said.
“But you love him, Jen,” Nancy said. “This case isn’t worth losing Sean.”
“You’re only saying that because you don’t want me involved in your case, either,” Jennifer said, dashing the tears out of her eyes.
“That’s not true. I just don’t want you to lose Sean. He’s worried about you because he cares.”
“If Sean really cared, he would be more interested,” Jennifer declared. “The way he’s acting, it’s as if he doesn’t want us to learn the truth! Oh, forget it,” Jennifer said curtly. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Nancy walked into the living room and looted at Bess. “I’m really worried about Jennifer and Sean,” Nancy said quietly.
“Me, too. I’d hate to see them break up. You don’t think Sean’s involved, do you?” Bess asked.
“I really don’t know.” As briefly as possible Nancy told Bess about tailing Grant Sweeney and how she had almost gotten killed at the railroad tracks. “I don’t know about Sean,” she repeated, “but Sweeney’s in it up to his eyeballs.”
Bess’s eyes were terrified. “Can’t you do something to protect yourself, Nan?” she gasped.
“Oh, I’ll be fine,” answered Nancy, trying to speak casually. “Now you get some sleep, Bess. You’ve got a big day ahead of you.”
In a few minutes Nancy heard her friend’s even breathing. She went back into the kitchen and put the teapot on the stove.
A few moments later Miranda wandered into the kitchen. She stopped short when she saw Nancy. “I thought everyone was asleep,” she said, yawning, her red hair a tousled cloud around her head.
“I knew I couldn’t sleep,” Nancy admitted. “Too many things on my mind.”
“Me, too.” Miranda frowned. “I just keep thinking about Rod and this smuggling thing.” She shivered. “What should I do about the vase? I don’t like keeping it here.”
“I was planning to do some research at the library on the vase, but I haven’t had time,” Nancy said, her brow puckering.
The teapot whistled, and Nancy poured them each a cup of tea.
“Thanks,” Miranda said, smiling. “With service like this, you can stay as long as you like.”
“I’ll remember that.” Nancy smiled, then grew sober. “Maybe I should take a look at that vase again,” she said.
“Okay. I have it in a suitcase in my room.” Miranda led the way back to her bedroom. Pulling the suitcase out of her closet, she gasped. “The lock’s broken!”
“What about the vase?” Nancy asked, her heart sinking.
Miranda threw open the suitcase. “It’s gone. Oh, Nancy, someone’s stolen it!” she cried.
Chapter
Nine
THE TWO GIRLS stared at the empty suitcase. “Who could have taken it?” Miranda asked.
Nancy had a few ideas about who—but she kept them to herself.
Miranda’s cries had woken Jennifer and Bess. They came running to her bedroom. “What’s going on?” Jennifer demanded.
“Our smugglers have discovered we’re on to them,” Nancy said grimly. “Someone stole the vase from Miranda’s suitcase.”
“Who? How?” Jennifer looked frightened.
“I don’t know.”
“But who knew about the vase besides us and Sean?” Miranda asked.
“Mr. Talbot knew,” Jennifer said. “But he’s on our side.” At Nancy’s silence, she asked, “Well, isn’t he? I mean, he is the president.”
“We can’t rule out anyone at this point.” Nancy tried to sound matter-of-fact.
“The president of the airline?” Jennifer looked at Nancy as if she’d lost her mind. “Come on. Why would he risk everything he’s worked for?”
“Power. Money,” Nancy answered. “It’s just a theory.”
“Yeah, but your theories have a way of becoming fact,” Bess pointed out. “I bet it is Mr. Talbot.”
But Nancy’s thoughts had turned to Grant Sweeney. In his presence she’d mentioned Chinese vases in general. But she hadn’t said that Rod had given one to Miranda. Would Grant have searched their apartment in the hopes of finding the vase on that slim bit of information? Or had he learned from Mr. Talbot that Miranda had the vase? That is, if he did take it, she reminded herself.
“I don’t like this,” Miranda said, wrapping her arms around herself and looking nervously over her shoulder.
“That vase was the only solid piece of evidence we had, and now it’s gone.” Nancy sighed. “It must have been the real thing after all. The smugglers brought it in from the Orient. And Rod probably lifted it from an illegal shipment, then gave it to Miranda.”
“Could we talk about this in the morning?” Bess asked, stifling a yawn. “I’m bushed, and my first day in the air is tomorrow.”
The others agreed and went to bed also.
• • •
Nancy spent most of the next morning going over the Victory printouts. Around noon she drove to the airport. She wanted to check with Blake Maxell about who had enough pull in the company to organize a smuggling ring and keep it under wraps.
She was going to ask Celia where his office was, but stopped short when she saw the man himself, talking to Celia at the flight desk.
“You can’t afford to make mistakes like that,” he was saying in a flat, hard tone. “One more time and you’re fired!”
Celia looked about ready to cry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Maxell,” she answered. “The computer went down while I was changing the reservation. By the time it came back up again, the seats were gone.”
“I told you to make that reservation yesterday! You should have done it the instant I told you to!”
“I—I know.”
“Book me another flight to New York as soon as possible. See if you can manage that without making a mistake.”
He stalked off toward the door to the offices.
Nancy walked quickly up to the counter. “That was Blake M
axell?” she asked, inclining her head in the direction Maxell had just taken.
“Yes.” Celia managed a weak smile. “His reservation slipped my mind after the computer went down. If I make any more mistakes like that one, I can kiss this job goodbye.”
“I think he overreacted,” Nancy said. “It was an honest mistake.”
“No, he had every right to be angry with me.”
Celia seemed so upset that Nancy dropped the subject. But she had lost her zeal to meet with Maxell. Instead she talked to several of the other management trainees. Late in the afternoon she ran into Paul, and he insisted she spend his break with him.
“I refuse to give up on you,” he said. “So how about tonight? We could hit a movie, or go out to dinner, whatever.”
“I can’t, Paul. Really. I’ve got too much to do.”
“It’s Sean, isn’t it?” Paul guessed. “Something’s going on between you two.”
“No way! Sean’s in love with Jennifer,” Nancy pointed out to Paul, “and besides, I’ve got a boyfriend back home.”
“I don’t know about your boyfriend, but I can tell you that Sean and Jennifer are kaput. And I think you’re the reason.”
“That’s not even worth answering!” she snapped.
“I heard Sean tell one of the guys that things haven’t been the same between him and Jennifer since you came to Seattle.”
“You don’t understand. It’s all because of this—” Nancy caught herself before she said “smuggling ring.”
As if Sean had heard them talking about him, he appeared just then. Seeing Nancy and Paul, he hesitated, then came toward them.
“Well, guess who’s looking for you,” Paul said sardonically. “This must be my cue to leave.”
Nancy’s eyes flashed with indignation, but Paul took off before she had a chance to set him straight.
“So how’s it going?” Sean asked without much interest.
Putting Paul out of her mind, Nancy said, “I’m making some progress—I think. But Victory seems to be a close-knit operation. If anybody knows anything, they’re not talking.”