Hot Pursuit Read online

The guys plugged into their amplifiers, and the director began to shout instructions at the crew. The cameras began to roll.

  “One, two—one, two, three, four!” Tucker shouted, and the Hot Rods burst into a song.

  Immediately Bess started clapping along. “Doesn’t that fountain look great behind them?” she shouted over the music. “You feel as if you could reach out and touch the water.”

  Nancy nodded, her eyes following the sparkling streams to the base of the fountain. Ricky had just started to sway in time to the music when she noticed something odd.

  His amplifier was smoking! And the hot cord was swinging just inches above the water beside him.

  With a gasp, she realized that Ricky was about to be electrocuted!

  Chapter

  Eleven

  NANCY HAD TO break the flow of current before it killed him!

  “Ricky!” she shouted. Maybe she could get him to drop the guitar before it was too late. Waving madly, she called his name again, but he obviously couldn’t hear her over the music. When he finally did look her way, Ricky just nodded and smiled at her. He thought she was cheering him on!

  Nancy looked frantically around for something to knock out the cord—something that wouldn’t conduct electricity. Her gaze fell on a wooden croquet set, and she quickly grabbed a mallet and took off on a run to the fountain, pushing through the audience. Before she reached Ricky, however, he turned—the cord of his electric bass swung low and made contact with the puddle of water.

  Sparks shot along the wire, and Ricky shrieked. There was a loud bang as his amplifier burst into flames. Lunging the last few feet, Nancy lifted the mallet and swung at the frayed cord. After two hits, the cord finally popped out of the amplifier.

  Pale and listless, Ricky fell off the fountain and collapsed onto the ground. The other guys broke off playing and hopped down to check on him, shock and fear on their faces.

  “Quick, call an ambulance!” Nancy yelled as she felt for his pulse. A medical team was on the scene minutes later. Everyone moved back as the attendants checked Ricky’s vital signs and lifted him onto a stretcher.

  As they carried Ricky out, Woody came over and slipped his arms around Nancy and George. “He’s going to be okay,” he said in a shaken voice.

  Tucker joined them. “What would have happened if you hadn’t been here?” he said to Nancy. “Ricky was almost killed!” He pulled a hand back through his thick blond hair. “I don’t believe these incidents are accidents anymore. Someone is out to get us—or Ricky.”

  Nancy went over to the amplifier and picked up the disconnected cord. Its plastic coating was chafed away in a few places. “This doesn’t look like normal wear and tear,” she said, calling the others over. “There seem to be fresh cuts in the cord, probably made by a knife.”

  Woody shook his head as he examined the cord. “Ricky’s equipment is new—he just replaced his amp system after our last tour. It was fine when we rehearsed yesterday afternoon.”

  “Who takes care of the band’s equipment?” Nancy asked.

  “Roadies handle the big stuff,” Tucker explained. “But we take care of our own instruments and feedback amps.”

  Nancy reflected for a moment. “Is the equipment stored in a common place? A room that lots of people have access to?”

  Tucker shook his head. “Not this stuff. Ricky just brought it out of his room this morning after breakfast. We like to have our instruments around at night so we can jam or work out some new tunes.”

  “This has all gone too far.” Woody’s face was tight with worry. “First the bike accident, now this.” He glanced at Nancy expectantly. “You’ve got to help us figure this out.”

  Nancy sympathized with the guys, but she was feeling frustrated by all her unanswered questions. Stepping forward, she said, “I want to help you, but first you have to level with me. I need to know the real story behind all the rumors about the band splitting up.”

  Woody and Tucker exchanged a guilty look, then Woody nudged the drummer and said, “Okay. Tell her, Tuck.”

  “All the rumors about us breaking up are just that—rumors,” Tucker began slowly. “Our agent thought it would be a good idea to get publicity, but we never thought anyone would get hurt.”

  “What about the bad feelings toward Courtney?” Nancy prodded.

  Woody shrugged. “We’ve had our share of differences, but they’re just growing pains.”

  “He’s right,” Tucker agreed. “I’ll admit that Courtney isn’t my favorite person in the world, but we wouldn’t split up over her.”

  Everything they said made sense. Then why would someone want to hurt Ricky? Nancy glanced uneasily at the musicians as another thought came to her.

  “Ricky might not be the only one in trouble,” she told Woody and Tucker. “You guys should be careful, too. We don’t know who’s behind all these accidents. If someone is out to break up the Hot Rods, you guys could all be targets.”

  • • •

  “Count me out for the afternoon activities,” Nancy told Bess and George as the cousins were putting on their bathing suits after lunch. “I have a few things to take care of.”

  “But you’re going to miss the catamaran cruise,” Bess reminded her.

  George slipped a T-shirt over her suit and perched her sunglasses on top of her head. “She can always go on another ride before we leave,” George pointed out.

  Nancy walked her friends down to the lobby, then went on alone toward the infirmary, a modern building at the opposite end of the resort from the beach. A nurse at the reception area told her that Vincent was still unconscious, and that Ricky was resting quietly. She’d have to wait until later to question Vincent.

  Nancy decided it would be a good time to check out Ricky’s hotel room. That was where he kept his equipment, and whoever had sabotaged it might have left some sort of clue. She was glad to see that the hallway was empty. Pulling her lock-pick kit from her purse, Nancy opened the door in seconds. She didn’t think Ricky would mind, but she didn’t want to try to convince the manager that it would be okay.

  Glancing about, Nancy let out a loud sigh of disappointment. The hotel maids had already straightened up Ricky’s room. Nancy searched carefully but didn’t see anything unusual. Lifting the drapes over the sliding glass door that led to a patio, she checked the door for scrapes or dents that would indicate that someone had tampered with the lock. There weren’t any, and the door to the hallway also looked clean.

  What a waste of time, Nancy thought as she headed back to her own room. Once there, she sat down on the balcony to think, propping her feet up on the railing. If someone had gotten into Ricky’s room, it must have been with a key, or else the person knew how to pick a lock. She wondered if it could be a resort employee.

  Although she had suspected Vincent of tampering with Ricky’s brakes, he couldn’t be guilty this time. He’d been sedated since the previous afternoon, and the guys said the cord had been intact then. That meant that possibly another employee was involved—Daniel, or maybe even Gibbs. Gibbs and Ricky had had two arguments that Nancy knew of, and Gibbs would certainly have access to any room in the hotel.

  As Nancy tried to put the pieces together, her eyes lit upon the maintenance hut on the cliff. She decided there was no time like the present to check it out. She just hoped most of the staff was busy other places this afternoon.

  Nancy made her way quickly down the path to the hut, watching to make sure no one was around. Outside the hut, she placed her ear against the door. When she heard nothing, she tried the door. This time it was locked. Nancy glanced nervously over her shoulder before pulling her small kit from her purse and quickly picking the lock.

  Inside, the hut was unchanged. The Polaroid camera was still sitting under a tarp. Flicking on a light, Nancy looked under some of the other tarps. She found a lawn mower and three empty steel barrels—ordinary items for a maintenance hut. She also found a typewriter and another set of file cabinets.

 
At the far end of the hut was another door, one she hadn’t noticed before. I’ll check that out as soon as I finish in here, she thought. Going over to one of the file cabinets, Nancy set to work on one of the built-in locks. In the top drawer she found a black ledger book and took it over to the desk, where she opened it under the lamplight.

  Each page was dated and contained lists of names with a price beside each one. The figures ranged from ten thousand to thirty thousand dollars. Nancy ran her finger down the names on the list. Her hand stopped abruptly at the third entry under Monday’s date. The name was Eva Rivera! Flipping ahead, Nancy found two other names she knew: Eduardo and Juan Cordero!

  She closed the book and slipped it back into the drawer, her mind reeling. Money—lots of it—was changing hands. That, combined with the fact that the activity in the hut was conducted after dark, made Nancy pretty sure that whatever was going on had to be illegal. It certainly didn’t seem to have anything to do with maintenance!

  The question was, what was all that money being spent for? Nancy shook her head. Maybe the answer lay in one of the other drawers.

  She had just opened another file drawer when she heard a shuffling sound outside. After noiselessly closing the drawer, she searched for a hiding place. She couldn’t get Caught in there again! She remembered the back door, and opened it.

  Pulling the door closed behind her, Nancy felt cool blackness surround her. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she began to see that she was in some sort of chamber. The walls were rough, as if they’d been carved out of rock. She switched on her penlight and flashed the tiny beam around her. The chamber was a narrow tunnel that cut through the rocks right behind the hut!

  With the penlight in one hand, Nancy felt along the rocks with the other as she slowly picked her way through the dark tunnel. She didn’t hear anyone behind her, but knew that if the person in the hut had heard her, he might come after her. After a few minutes she saw a dull light just ahead. As she drew closer, she could tell that the light was coming in through the mouth of the tunnel, which was nearly covered by a thick blanket of vegetation.

  Nancy pulled aside the mat of flowering vines and stepped out into the bright sunlight. Looking around her, she discovered that she was standing on an oceanside path that zigzagged down along the cliff. With the thick covering of green leaves and red and yellow hibiscus blossoms, no passerby would suspect that a tunnel entrance was hidden in the side of the rocky hill!

  Below her the narrow path descended along the edge of the rocks to a small pier. Two boats were tied to the wooden dock. That’s it! Nancy thought excitedly. The landing would provide a convenient—and totally camouflaged—way to bring valuables in and out of the resort. Smuggled items? Nancy wondered.

  She was making her way down the path toward the boat landing when she heard a noise behind her. Turning, she saw a flash of turquoise and white as a resort employee ducked into the tunnel opening. She didn’t have time to retrace her steps to follow him because just then a huge, steel barrel began to roll down the path, directly toward her!

  The barrel made a loud clatter, flattening grass and flowers and sending sand and pebbles flying as it picked up speed. Nancy’s heart was pounding as she looked from the steep, slick cliff that rose up on her left, to the thin wooden railing on her right—her only protection from a hundred-foot fall to the rocky beach below!

  Seeing no place to hide, Nancy took off running down the path. She raced like the wind, but the drum was gaining on her, moving faster every second. Soon it was banging down the path just behind her heels!

  Her lungs burning, Nancy realized that the steel barrel was about to flatten her!

  Chapter

  Twelve

  NANCY GLANCED at the wooden railing on her right. It seemed sturdy, but there was no time to test it. She gripped it and jumped over the edge.

  Dust and sand flew into her face as the steel drum clattered by just inches from her nose. It kept on rolling, banging, and jumping over ruts in the path. A splinter dug into Nancy’s palm as she held on to the rail, her legs dangling in the tropical breeze. Her stomach churned as she glanced down and saw the surf washing over the jagged rocks far below.

  Taking a deep breath, she flexed her arms and pulled herself up until she could catch the edge of the path with her leg. Quickly, she rolled onto the path and lay there breathing heavily. Raising her eyes, she looked up at the tunnel entrance, but there was no sign of anyone. Then she hopped up, dusted herself off, and retraced her steps back up the path and to her room, to wait for Bess and George.

  • • •

  “I’m so nervous I can barely eat,” Bess said, after Nancy had explained what had happened. When George looked pointedly at her cousin’s plate, which was heaped with mango mousse, Bess amended, “Well, almost.”

  George said to Nancy in a low voice, “I can’t believe someone actually tried to kill you!”

  Bess waved her fork toward the setting sun, which was casting brilliant colors on the clouds as it sank in the west. “This place may be beautiful, but it seems like Gibbs’s ‘slice of paradise’ is turning into a slice of danger! It’s giving me the creeps/’

  “Obviously, my guess is right,” Nancy said. “Some kind of illegal operation is being run out of that hut. Someone wants to stop my investigation before I find out exactly what it is.” She jabbed a slice of pineapple and went on. “Well, they’re going to find out I don’t scare off easily.”

  “I wish we could set up the stakeout now,” George said before taking a bite from a coconut cupcake. “I can’t stand the suspense.”

  Bess glanced nervously across the table. “Me, neither. I want to get this over with.”

  The cousins had agreed to help Nancy stake out the hut later. “It will be better to wait until later,” Nancy told them. “That’s when all the activity takes place. Besides, this way we can catch the beginning of Courtney’s act in the Coral Cove first.”

  After dessert they made their way to the new nightclub. The atmosphere of the club was subdued, and three of the walls were lined with glass aquariums lit with cool blue lights. The girls were seated at a table next to a school of bubbling angelfish.

  The three girls had just ordered glasses of punch when the lights dimmed on the packed room. From the moment Courtney stepped on stage, her presence lit up the room. Her soulful voice and big brown eyes melted every heart in the audience. Backed by a piano and bass, she did her first set of jazz tunes, and when it ended, everyone cheered.

  “She has a great voice,” Bess raved, clapping enthusiastically.

  Nancy turned as a waitress with frizzy black hair came up to their table. “Are you Nancy Drew?” the girl asked. When Nancy nodded, she said, “Miss Brooks would like to speak with you backstage.”

  Nancy followed the waitress’s directions to Courtney’s dressing room and knocked on the door. At the force of her knock, the door swung open all the way.

  In the center of the room stood Courtney and Woody, wrapped in each other’s arms, their lips locked in a kiss.

  Nancy stood there a moment, wondering if the couple would ever come up for air. Finally she cleared her throat and said, “Uh, I can come back later.”

  “Oh, no,” Courtney answered, turning her flushed face toward Nancy. “I need to talk to you.”

  Woody blinked. “Nancy,” he murmured. “I guess you’re the first to discover that Courtney and I have settled our differences.”

  “We’re going to give it another shot.” Courtney beamed. “This time, Woody promises he’ll learn to trust me. And I’m going to try to keep my nose out of his band’s business.”

  “Try?” Woody echoed, raising an eyebrow.

  “Okay, I’ll let the Hot Rods make their own decisions.” She shot him a sly smile. “You drive a hard bargain.”

  Nancy grinned at them. “Congratulations!”

  “But that’s not what Courtney wanted to tell you,” Woody added. “She overheard a conversation between Ricky and Steve
the other day, and I thought it might be important.” He gave Courtney’s elbow a gentle squeeze. “Go ahead, tell her.”

  “Well . . .” Courtney narrowed her eyes as she tried to remember. “It was more like an argument. I was walking on the beach with Steve when Ricky came rushing up to us in a fury. They stepped aside to talk, but I did hear part of their conversation. Gibbs was trying to collect some money from Ricky, but Ricky said he refused to pay until he saw her alive.”

  Hmm, Gibbs again, Nancy thought. The evidence was piling up against the slick resort owner. But what did it add up to? “Do you have any idea who Ricky was referring to?” she asked. “Could it be his sister Maria?”

  The singer shook her head, and Woody spoke up. “We only learned about his sister the other day at lunch, when Ricky went crazy over her earrings.”

  “What about Gibbs?” Nancy asked Courtney. “Did he say anything to you about their argument?”

  Courtney shook her head again. “Sorry. He’s always very polite and charming around me. He kind of brushed the argument off, like it was nothing, so I didn’t give it another thought.”

  “Well, thanks for telling me about it,” she said, turning to leave. “It’s a big help.”

  • • •

  Back inside the Coral Cove, Nancy signaled to Bess and George that it was time to leave. The three girls went back to their room to change into dark jeans and cotton sweaters—stakeout clothes, Bess called them.

  “I’m still not sure what we’re looking for,” Bess whispered as they moved quietly along the path.

  “Neither am I,” Nancy admitted. “But I have a funny feeling that the key to the mystery of Pineapple Grove is in that hut.”

  The girls stopped when they reached a stand of coconut palms. From there they would have to step off the path to reach the hut.

  “I don’t see any light around the door,” Nancy said. “It’s probably empty now. George and I will see how we can find out what’s going on inside. Bess, you’re on lookout.”