087 Moving Target Page 9

  "Nothing. A clean sheet. But having the emeralds would certainly implicate her." The sergeant's no-nonsense voice became even more stern. "I have your itinerary in front of me, but I want you to tell me exactly where you are, so we can get a car over there to give you some protection."

  "Right," said Nancy. "I'm in cabin ten at Kipling's Lakeview Lodge, just off County Road Thirty-three."

  "Good," said Sergeant Telfer. "Go back to your cabin and lock yourself in. Now that you have those emeralds, you are a definite target for Stanton, and possibly Bover, too. They may be working against each other, and you could get caught in the crossfire. The nearest police force is in Moorestown. We'll radio them to get over there. What is Stanton driving?"

  "A blue van. I gave Lieutenant Easterling the license number and model yesterday."

  Nancy could hear papers rustling as the woman checked the file.

  "Here it is. It checked out to a rental agency. Fll put out an APB. We'll get someone over there as soon as possible." Her voice softened. "Nancy- careful."

  "Thanks," Nancy replied. "I will."

  She sighed and replaced the receiver. Things were starting to fall into place. Palumbo and Stanton, alias Michael Kirby, were working together, with Palumbo pulling off the burglaries and Stanton selling the goods. But where did Jennifer Bover fit in? College student. Early childhood education major. No criminal record.

  Nancy shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket and closed her fingers around the felt bag that held the emeralds. It was getting colder. The wind was coming in off the lake now, and the sky was clouding over. She glanced at the cabins. They were all dark. She walked slowly up the path, the crunching sound of her sneakers on the loose gravel the only noise in the night. Her whole body was tense, alert, but there was no sign of life around the campground. She'd be glad to get inside, share the new information with George, and wait for the police from Moorestown to arrive. She hadn't realized she was so tired.

  Nancy stopped outside the cabin she was sharing with George and listened. Nothing. She lifted her hand and gently knocked twice. Waited. Knocked twice again.

  There was a click as George turned the lock and opened the door. Nancy stepped inside, her eyes squinting against the dark interior.

  "Close the door quietly, Ms. Drew."

  Michael Kirby stepped from the shadows into her line of vision. His left arm was wrapped around George's neck and his right hand held a gun to her temple!

  Chapter Fifteen

  "George!"

  Nancy stepped toward them, staring with horror as Kirby's grip tightened around George's neck.

  "Keep your distance," Kirby warned menacingly, "or I'll shoot her. Now take the emeralds out of your pocket." He smirked at Nancy's look of surprise. "Yes, I know what you've got and where you've got them."

  "He knew because he was outside the cabin listening to us before you went to make the call," George blurted out defiantly. "He even knew the knock signal. That's why I let him in."

  "Shut up!" Kirby snapped. "Put them on the table." Pulling George with him, he moved a few steps to the table and, without letting go of the gun, picked up the pouch and slipped it into his

  pocket. "Okay, ladies, now we're going to go for a ride. Don't try any tricks, Ms. Private Eye. You're going to lead. And remember, Fve got this gun wedged right into your friend's waist."

  "You won't get away with this, Kirby," Nancy said. "The police are on their way here now."

  "Right," he replied sarcastically. "And if they're anything like the Emersonville cops, they might find the place in two days. Besides, your friend here doesn't want to see them any more than I do. She'll have a bit of explaining to do."

  "I told you before and I'll tell you again, you've got the wrong person!" George snapped.

  "Give me a break," Kirby replied. "You're the wrong person, but you just happen to have the emeralds, right?

  "You didn't know that I saw you on one of the drops, did you? Wearing those big sunglasses at five in the morning. What a disguise!" He gave a sarcastic laugh. "Once I see somebody, I don't forget them. The hair, the shape, the walk. I knew it was you the minute I"—he paused to sneer at her—"just 'happened' to find your cycling group. Convenient that you told the restaurant people that you were going on a bike trip this weekend, or I might still be looking over the Emerson coeds trying to find you. When I realized you'd kept back the emeralds on that Wednesday drop, I knew I'd have to go after you. It was good of the local press to tell me what was missing."

  "But she's not the drop person! She's telling you the truth," Nancy said, "She's not even an Emerson student."

  "Well I'd check that out with Palumbo if I could, but we both know that he's not in a position to give me any more information. And frankly, the only reason she was involved in the first place was so he and I wouldn't have to make contact. It would have been—how shall I put it?—it would have been dangerous for us."

  "They already know you're involved with Palumbo, and they know you're the fence for the Texas robberies, too, Kirby Stanton," Nancy said. "You're only making it worse for yourself."

  His eyes narrowed as she said the name Stanton. "Save your breath," he said. "It doesn't matter whether she's the drop or not. I've got what I want. In twenty-four hours I'll be in Canada, and these emeralds are going to buy me a whole new identity. Now, open the door, Ms. Private Eye, turn left, walk through that grove of trees, and we'll be right behind you."

  "You'll never make it to Canada," Nancy said.

  "Move it!" Kirby snapped. "And no noise or your friend gets it."

  Having no choice, Nancy did as she was ordered. The van was parked on a dirt trail on the far side of the grove, hidden from the campground. Kirby yanked open the driver's door.

  "You're driving," he said to Nancy. "The keys are in the ignition. You're going to follow this trail to a concession road. No lights and no tricks, or your friend gets it. Understand?"

  Nancy's heart sank. She didn't even know a back road existed, and she didn't know where it went. The police would be looking for them at the cabin or on the county road.

  Kirby shoved George roughly into the passenger seat beside Nancy and climbed into the seat behind them, placing the gun to the base of George's head. "Any swerves, any signals, any fancy driving, and I kill your friend. Got it?"

  Nancy nodded. The moon shining through the tall trees gave barely enough light to see the trail. She was sure Kirby meant every threat he made, and she wasn't about to endanger George. Their only hope would be if the Moorestown police used this road as a shortcut to reach Lakeview Lodge. That hope faded quickly when Kirby had her pull off the dirt trail and turn on the headlights.

  The road was poorly maintained and obviously little traveled. No oncoming lights were visible, and checking the rearview mirror, Nancy saw no traffic following them. Behind her, she could hear Kirby fumbling for something in the dark, but a quick glance in the mirror confirmed that the gun was still held at George's head.

  "Here," he muttered to George. "Put this in your pocket." He reached over the seat and handed something to George.

  Nancy looked over to see what it was.

  "I don't get it," George said, looking at the emerald drop earring Kirby had given her.

  "You don't have to get it," he snarled. "Just do what you're told."

  "I guess I'm not in a position to argue," George said angrily, jamming the earring into the pocket of her jeans.

  "You've got that right!" said Kirby. As he spoke he lifted the gun and hit George on the side of the head. She slumped over, her cheek against the door frame.

  Nancy slammed the brakes. "You beast!" she yelled.

  Kirby laughed and almost casually slid over behind her. She felt the cold muzzle of the revolver behind her ear and froze in place.

  "Now, is that any way to talk to me?" he asked in a soft voice. "Take your foot off the brake and move this buggy down the road. Do what you're told, and nothing will happen to you."

&nb
sp; "You're insane!"

  "Keep it moving. Your friend's going to have a little nap for the next few miles, and then we're going to dispose of her."

  Nancy gripped the wheel tightly and looked over at George. She was out cold. What else did he have planned for them?

  As if he was reading her mind, Kirby responded. "About three miles down, there's a bend in the road, and around the bend there's a small bridge over a creek. When you get across the bridge, pull over to the shoulder."

  Nancy scanned the road ahead of her. No traffic. Not even a farmhouse in sight. It was like being in the middle of nowhere. Would the police ever find them, and when they did, would it be too late?

  "We're coming up to the bend," Kirby snapped, interrupting her thoughts.

  "You can't get away with this," Nancy said, as she slowed for the curve. "Don't you have any conscience? George wasn't involved at all."

  "But she's involved now," Kirby said. "And when they find her, she'll have part of the loot in her pocket." He laughed. "I've got this all worked out. The police will think she was the fence, who was robbed and killed on a back road while escaping to Canada with the emeralds. Unfortunately, in their rush to get the jewels, her assailants missed one of the earrings."

  "What about the woman who was the drop?" Nancy asked, stalling for time.

  "What about her? She's not going to come forward and confess."

  "What about Palumbo? He could cut a deal with the police that would put you behind bars."

  "Not likely," Kirby replied curtly. "I know too much about Stephen Palumbo. If he squeals on me, he's looking at a lot more than a burglary charge." He hit the back of the seat with his hand and Nancy jumped. "You're too nosy/' he said. "Stop! Right here."

  Nancy pulled the van over and cut the engine. Her mind was racing. Was he going to kill George right here at the side of the road? How was she going to get out of this? Keep him talking, she told herself. Maybe someone will come along.

  "What are you going to do with me?" she asked, in as cool a tone as she could muster. "Obviously I'm not involved in the burglaries. How are you going to explain my body at the side of the road?"

  Kirby laughed—a hideous laugh that sent shivers up Nancy's spine. "You're not going to be left at the side of the road, my dear. At least not here. You see, your friend's usefulness is over. But you are still an asset to me."

  "I don't see how," Nancy said.

  "I thought you'd be smart enough to figure that out," Kirby replied. "If the police really are looking for me—and I'm not sure I believe you on that—then they're looking for a single man, not for a couple headed for a vacation in Canada."

  As he talked, Nancy's hands tightened on the steering wheel. Her palms were clammy, and she could feel beads of perspiration on her forehead.

  "It's time," Kirby said flatly. "Get out. And don't try anything stupid. I'm getting out on your side, so I'll be right behind you. And don't forget I still have this." He stroked the gun over the hair

  at her neck. "And I won't hesitate to use it if I have to. Open your door."

  As if programmed, the two of them got out of the van in tandem. The minute Nancy's feet hit the ground, Kirby grabbed her arm, keeping the revolver trained on her.

  "Now we'll walk around the van together," he instructed. "You'll open the door and pull your friend over to the edge of that ditch."

  Nancy's heart was pounding. She had to do something, but what? They walked to the passenger side of the van, and Nancy reached out and opened the door. George's limp body slid into her arms, and she half carried, half dragged her from the vehicle to a grassy strip by the ditch.

  "Say goodbye," Kirby said. Nancy felt his muscular arm curl around her neck from behind. Holding her tightly in front of him, he raised the gun and aimed it at George's head. The click as he released the safety catch resounded like a thunderbolt in Nancy's ears.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The click of the safety on the revolver jarred Nancy to action. Kirby was holding her tightly in front of him, his left arm wrapped around her shoulders in a bruising grip. Fiercely Nancy jabbed backward with her elbow. The unexpected blow caught Kirby in the stomach. He flung his arm up in the air, and the shot went wild.

  Kirby doubled over in pain, and Nancy whirled around and disarmed him with a quick chop to the wrist. As he straightened up, raging, she caught him under the chin with a high kick. He staggered backward and fell, just as the lights of a vehicle rounded the bend and crossed the bridge. The police! Two officers jumped out of the black-and-white patrol car and ran toward her.

  "Are you all right?" one asked while the other ran over to Kirby, who was struggling to get up, and handcuffed him.

  "Yes, I'm okay," Nancy said, running over to George. "But my friend is hurt. Fm Nancy Drew, by the way."

  "Fll call for an ambulance," he yelled, charging back to the car.

  Nancy knelt beside George and held her hand. She was still unconscious, but her breathing seemed normal. Nancy was concentrating so hard on George that she scarcely noticed the truck that pulled up behind the police car until she heard a familiar voice calling her.

  "Nan!"

  She looked up. "Over here! Oh, Ned, Fm so glad to see you."

  Ned, with CJ close behind, ran over to where she was kneeling by George.

  "Kirby hit her in the head with his gun," Nancy said. "We need to get her to a doctor."

  "I saw some plywood in the back of the truck," CJ said. He ran back to the side of the road and returned soon with a long piece of plywood and a blanket.

  "Excuse me, Ms. Drew," said one of the officers. "We need to get a statement from you."

  "Where are you taking him?" she asked, nodding toward Kirby.

  "The county jail in Moorestown," he replied.

  "Can I meet you there?" Nancy asked. "We need to get my friend to the clinic right away. We'll take her in. Cancel the ambulance."

  "All right. Follow us. We'll escort you."

  Ned and CJ had covered George with the blanket and were carrying her to the truck on the makeshift stretcher.

  "Wait a minute," Nancy said to the officers. "How did you find us? This road is totally deserted."

  "We would have been out on the county road if it hadn't been for your friend back at the lodge," one of them replied.

  Nancy's brow furrowed. "Mr. Kipling?"

  "No, no. The young woman—tall, blond. She apparently saw Kirby taking you and your friend to the van, and she followed on her bike. She watched him turn onto this side road. So when we got to the lake, she told us which way to go." He paused. "If it hadn't been for her, we would have gone in the wrong direction." He touched the brim of his cap in a brief salute. "Well, we'll see you in Moorestown."

  Jennifer, Nancy said to herself, after he left. Jennifer had told the Moorestown police how to find them. Why? Before the night was over, the police were going to learn that she was working with Kirby and Palumbo. Nancy shook her head. She would have to sort things out later.

  She hurried to the truck. "CJ," she said, "I'm sorry I ignored you. I was so worried about George. How are you feeling?"

  "I'm fine," he said, patting her shoulder.

  'Til get into the back with George," Nancy said. Ned and CJ got into the front, and Ned started the motor and pulled out behind the police car.

  CJ looked back over his shoulder at Nancy. "How's she doing?"

  "The same," Nancy replied.

  "Was Kirby responsible for my trip to the hospital, too?"

  "Partly," Nancy said. "The idea was his. Kendra actually put the drugs in the bottle. The water was intended for George."

  "Will somebody please tell me what's going on?" Ned said. "I feel as if I've come into a bad movie about an hour late."

  Nancy laughed. "I'll tell you what's been happening here, if you'll tell me where you found this truck."

  "That's easy," Ned replied. "CJ and I biked over from Moorestown after they released him from the hospital, and we got to the lodge about
the same time as the police. When we figured out that they were looking for Kirby and Kirby was gone and that you and George were gone too, we decided we'd better follow them. Mr. Kipling couldn't stand to see two grown men wailing about their lost loves, so he loaned us his truck."

  "Ned, you are certifiably crazy!" Nancy said.

  * * *

  The nurse in the emergency room at the hospital registered surprise when she saw CJ. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon," she said.

  "We need a gurney," CJ told her. "We have someone injured outside in a truck."

  "Right away!" she said, and called for an orderly.

  The emergency room doctor was with George for what seemed like hours. At last the nurse came into the waiting room. "Slight concussion," she said "We'd like to keep her overnight for observation. She's right down the hall, third door to your left. The doctor's with her."

  Nancy moved quickly down the hall and quietly opened the door to George's room. A young woman in a white jacket was standing by the bed.

  "How is she, doctor?" Nancy whispered.

  "I'm fine, Nan," George murmured, as she squinted at Nancy through half-opened eyes.

  The doctor smiled. "Fine might be an overstatement," she said as Nancy introduced herself. "But she should be feeling better by morning." She motioned Nancy toward the door. "Right now she needs to rest. I think the worst thing she'll experience is a very bad headache."

  Ned and CJ were waiting for her at the desk.

  "Let's go over to the police station and get that over with," Nancy said wearily.

  The officers who had picked up Kirby were waiting for them in a small conference room. Sergeant Whitcomb, the older man, pulled out a chair for Nancy and motioned for her to sit down across from him. "We've been in touch with the Emersonville police," he said. "And we've picked up Jennifer Bover." He shook his head in disbelief. "She sure doesn't look like someone who'd be mixed up with that pair," he said.