Never Say Die Read online

  She raced through the entrance tunnel. Inside, the track and infield were illuminated by several floodlights. Quickly she went to the raised judges’ platform in the middle of the infield. Its underside was masked by a canvas curtain. She pulled it aside.

  Good. George’s bike was still there, chained to a support post. It was a strange place to hide it, but clever. Nancy couldn’t understand how George could put it in such an obvious spot without anyone seeing her take it out or put it back. Apparently, though, no one did. The bike was safer there than it would be in her own garage.

  Nancy was about to leave the infield when she heard footsteps echoing in the exit tunnel. It had to be George’s attacker. Nancy needed to hide. Facing him now wasn’t part of her plan.

  Ducking under the judges’ platform, she crouched next to the bike and waited. Several minutes passed. She heard scraping sounds nearby, and then there was silence. Then footsteps crunched slowly on the gravel around the platform. Nancy’s heart began to hammer like a drum. Suddenly the canvas was ripped roughly aside.

  “You! What are you doing under there?” Peter Cooper growled when he saw Nancy.

  “Resting?” Nancy answered.

  “What?”

  “Well, it was raining, and—”

  “Never mind. Get out of there!”

  Nancy crawled out from under the platform and stood up. Peter was holding a large chain cutter in his hand. At his feet was a bulging duffel bag. He was obviously packed for a trip.

  Nancy was torn. Part of her wanted to run, and part of her wanted to stall. Facing him without a backup was a bad idea, but she really didn’t have a choice.

  She decided to stall. It wouldn’t take Ned long to arrive, and while she waited she could try for a confession.

  “So, how’s the extortion business these days?” she asked mildly.

  “Extortion? What are you talking about?” Peter replied coldly.

  “I should have figured out what was going on when I went to Steven’s office with my father,” she said.

  Peter dropped the chain cutter and folded his arms. “You’re not making a lot of sense, Nancy,” he said, looking at her severely.

  “Oh, no? Well, I’ll explain. It starts with the password to Steven’s program. Passwords are very hard to guess, and even with a code-busting program you have to work for hours. I think you did crack it eventually, though—on the night you put George’s bike together in Steven’s office.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, but something must have gone wrong with your plan,” Nancy went on. “Maybe Steven came down the hall just after you’d copied his program and deleted it from his disk. Anyway, you had to hide your copy, and you did—inside one of George’s disk wheels.”

  Peter shook his head. “That’s an amusing story, Nancy, but you’re forgetting something. Everyone knows that program was stolen on the night after George got her bike.”

  “No, it wasn’t. You just made it look that way when you went back the following night, turned off the alarm system, and smashed down Steven’s door.”

  “I did all that, did I?” He looked unconcerned.

  Nancy plunged on. “Yes, you did all that. We figured it couldn’t be an inside job, because it looked so professional. In reality, though, it was both—inside and professional.”

  “You’ve concocted quite a scenario, Nancy,” he said. “But that’s all it is—a scenario. You have no proof. If you go to the police, they’ll say your imagination is working overtime. They’ll say you’re upset about your friend.”

  “George. Oh yes, I almost forgot about George,” Nancy said. “That’s the part that stumped me the most. All week I thought someone was trying to kill her, but I was wrong.”

  “Oh?”

  Nancy was getting angry now. “You weren’t trying to kill her—not deliberately. All you wanted was to get your hands on her bike.”

  Peter laughed harshly. “Now you really sound crazy.”

  “Was I crazy when you tried to take the bike on the first day of the Classic? You remember—when George complained that the seat needed to be adjusted?”

  “No, but so what?”

  “Well, you weren’t able to get the bike that time because Jon fixed the seat. So later you tried to get it by creating a diversion. You set the tent on fire, with George inside.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it? I don’t think so. I think you were foiled because Bess stayed inside the velodrome to guard the bike. Later that afternoon, you tried again at the Imperial Motel.”

  Peter said nothing.

  “The whole week went by like that,” Nancy said, her fury rising. “Time after time you tried to get the bike. Like at Big Top Burgers or with the guard dogs—it didn’t matter. You needed that bike, and you needed it bad.

  “Finally,” she said, “George found a new place to hide the bike. You searched her house that night but found nothing. It wasn’t there. Then you decided to force the location out of her—which you did this morning. Afterward, you hit her on the head with a rock and left her in the woods.”

  “That’s enough,” Peter barked. His mouth was drawn in a tight line. “You think you’re so smart. You think you’ve got it all worked out, but tell me this—how are you going to prove it?”

  “Simple. I’m going to take the wheels off that bike.”

  “Don’t make me laugh. You don’t know that there’s anything in there.”

  “No?” Nancy glanced at the chain cutters. “Then what are you doing here?”

  Suddenly, Peter lunged. The bluffing was over. Nancy dodged out of his way, but before she could run two steps he tripped her. When she looked up from the ground, Peter’s duffel bag was unzipped. He was standing over her with a revolver in his hand.

  He grabbed her roughly by the arm. “Why did you have to poke your nose into it, huh? I ought to—”

  He jerked her roughly to her feet. She wanted to scream but didn’t. The next second he pulled her close to him and pressed the cold barrel of the revolver deep into her cheek.

  “Let me go!”

  “No way, Detective Drew. You’re never going to tell anyone what you know.”

  “What are you going to do?” she asked. “Feed me to the shark again?”

  He laughed coldly. “Too bad it didn’t finish you off that night. This time I’ll find a better way to get you out of my way. But first—”

  He shoved her to the ground. Nancy landed hard and felt the wind being knocked out of her. She gasped, trying to catch her breath. As she did, Peter quickly cut through the chain on the bike and pulled it into the open.

  Pointing the gun at her again, he kicked his duffel bag. “Pick it up. We’re going for a ride in my car.”

  Nancy knew where that ride would end—on a dead-end road. She had to escape, now! Where was Ned, anyway?

  Bending down, she grabbed the handles of the duffel bag. She couldn’t wait for help anymore. She would have to help herself. Lifting the bag, she threw it straight at Peter. It caught him in the chest.

  “Ooof!”

  He went over, and the bike toppled to the ground, too. The gun landed ten feet away. Nancy ran and grabbed the bike, her heart in her throat. Hopping on it, she started for the exit tunnel. She had to get out of there with the evidence!

  Pedaling the bike turned out to be harder than she thought. The wheels were heavy, and building up speed took time. She didn’t need much motivation, though, and within seconds she was speeding toward the tunnel entrance. Then she gasped.

  The entrance was blocked! Peter had dragged several police barriers in front of it. Why hadn’t she gone for the pistol instead? she thought desperately. By now, Peter had picked it up and was coming after her. What was she going to do?

  Chapter

  Nineteen

  THERE WAS ONLY one choice. Pedaling harder than before, Nancy changed direction and rode onto the track.

  Standing up on the pedals, Nancy rode faster and faster. She was a
perfect target, and that scared her. The only thing in her favor was that she was moving. Realizing that, she began to weave back and forth. It wasn’t a big advantage, but at least it was something.

  Pow! A concrete chip flew off the track in front of her.

  Pow! Another chip flew up right below her feet.

  Nancy’s heart hammered. She pedaled harder. Her only hope was to keep going. She was a duck in a shooting gallery, but if she could just stay alive until Ned arrived . . .

  Then she hit the first banked turn. It was like taking a banked turn in a car, but a lot more immediate. The slightest turn of the handlebars sent her flashing up the incline, and the slightest tilt of her body sent her racing back down.

  In no time she was off it, speeding down the back straight.

  Pow! Pow! More concrete chips flew.

  He had not hit her yet, but Nancy knew it was just a matter of time.

  Pow!

  Hunching down, she pedaled even harder. Her legs were aching. Her lungs were burning, ready to explode.

  Nancy knew that she couldn’t go on much longer. She had to do something—anything! She was coming out of a turn. Maybe she could . . .

  There was no time to think it through. Just do it! she told herself.

  She swung off the track. The bike rattled as she rode over the apron, over the gravel, and went streaking across the infield.

  Ahead of her, Peter raised his gun and steadied it. His hand jerked. Pow!

  Nancy swerved to the right, then the left. She was thirty yards away—twenty—

  Pow! Pow!

  Fifteen—ten. Now she could see his face, his surprise and alarm. He started to run, but she steered toward him. Seconds later, she ran him down.

  Wham!

  Nancy hit the ground like a sack, but she was up again in a flash. On the ground, ten feet away, was the pistol. She dove for it, grabbed it, and staggered to her feet.

  “Freeze, Peter!”

  Peter froze in a half crouch, staring at the gun pointed at his heart. “I don’t believe—”

  “Believe it! Make one move and you’re history!” Nancy panted.

  “Nancy?”

  A familiar voice echoed behind her. A second later Ned ran in with a dozen policemen. All of whom had their pistols drawn.

  She was safe! Flinging Peter’s pistol as far as she could, Nancy collapsed.

  • • •

  Peter Cooper was led away in handcuffs. When Nancy finished telling her story to the police, she joined her father and Steven Lloyd. They were on the apron of the track, taking apart the disk-wheel bike.

  “Easy, Carson, slowly—slowly. There. That’s it.”

  As Nancy walked up, her father separated the two halves of the front wheel. Inside was a floppy disk, the hubset fitted through its center hole. She’d been right after all. And this evidence would send Peter to jail.

  Steven turned to her with a grateful smile. “I can’t thank you enough, Nancy,” he said. “I’ve got my program back, and not only that, I’ve got my money back, too.”

  “You do?” Nancy asked, surprised.

  “Yes,” her father explained. “According to the police, Cooper had the half-million dollars stashed in his duffel bag.”

  “I’ll bet it was all there except for a few thousand dollars, right?” Nancy said.

  “That’s true. How did you know?” her father asked.

  “At the time trial yesterday morning, a man tried to buy George’s bike with a pocket full of hundred-dollar bills. He didn’t know anything about bicycles, though, so he must have been someone Peter paid to do it.”

  Carson Drew nodded. “Sounds logical. Well, knowing the identity of the villain sure makes it easier to understand things, doesn’t it?”

  “You said it,” Steven agreed. “Like the delays in phoning the drop-off instructions. Peter didn’t call because he didn’t have the program to exchange for the money!”

  “It also explains how he knew to phone you at our house. He peeked at your desk calendar,” Carson Drew said.

  “There’s one thing I’m still not clear about,” Nancy commented.

  “What’s that?” her father asked.

  “Why did Peter steal the program in the first place?”

  “I can answer that,” Steven said. “It was greed, pure and simple. Peter was a conscientious worker, but he was also obsessed with money;”

  “How do you know?” Carson Drew asked.

  “Well, for one thing, he frequently asked me how much money I’ve made. When I finally told him, he seemed resentful. I couldn’t understand it at the time, but now I can see that he wanted to get rich, too.”

  “Yes, the easy way,” Nancy remarked.

  “One final question, Nancy,” her father said. “What gave you the solution?”

  Nancy thought for a moment. “It was George. You see, I couldn’t figure out why the person who was trying to kill her hadn’t finished the job when he had the chance.”

  “And?” he asked.

  “It bothered me for hours! Then, finally, I realized that there was only one explanation. The guy hadn’t killed her because he wasn’t after George—he was after something else!”

  “The bike.”

  “Right.”

  Ned came up to them. “Nancy, I called the hospital. George regained consciousness a few minutes ago.”

  “Well, it’s about time!” she joked.

  “Do you want to go see her?”

  “You bet!” She glanced at her watch. “But we’d better hurry.”

  “Yeah, visiting hours will be over soon.”

  • • •

  At the hospital, Jon and Bess were already in George’s room. The nurses didn’t like having so many people there at once, but they did allow it.

  “So, George, looks like it really takes a lot to get you to tell where you keep your equipment hidden,” Nancy said, eyeing her bandages.

  George laughed, then winced. “Ow! Don’t make me laugh, Nan. It hurts too much.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Yeah. Maybe next time you should just leave it out in the open where anybody can steal it,” Bess said.

  “Ha-ha. Ow!” George cried.

  “Oops! I’m sorry!”

  “Forget it. Let’s talk about something that won’t make me laugh, okay?”

  “Okay,” Ned said, leaning on the rail by her bed. “Tell me, why did you hide the bike in the first place?”

  “Yeah, did you really have to be so careful?” Bess added.

  “The main reason was that it wasn’t my bike,” George explained. “After my car was broken into, I was afraid someone would try to steal it. Which they did.”

  Nancy looked at Jon and smiled. His feelings for George were written all over his face. He obviously cared for her a lot, but did George know that? Had they had a chance to work things out?

  A minute later she got her answer. Turning in her bed, George touched Nancy’s hand. “I’ve got to thank you for something.”

  “Saving your life?”

  “Yes, that, but also something else—for getting Jon and me back together. He explained all that stuff about Debbi tonight. He also told me that he wouldn’t have explained if you hadn’t convinced him to.”

  “You’re not upset?” Nancy asked.

  “Because he was still attracted to her? He wouldn’t be human if he didn’t have some pretty strong feelings about an old girlfriend,” she said earnestly.

  Jon overheard their conversation. “Yes, thanks, Nancy. I owe you double. Hey, George, you look kind of thirsty. Want me to get you some water or a soda or something?”

  “A soda would be great.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Ned said. “I could use one myself.”

  When the two were gone, Nancy, Bess, and George were alone in the room. For a minute none of them spoke.

  As Nancy looked down at George in her hospital bed, she thought back over their friendship. T
here were so many warm, funny, and frightening memories. Sure, she’d saved George’s life on this case, but George had done the same for her many times before. Bess, too. The friendship the three of them shared went deep. It was based on a lot more than clothes, gossip, and boys—although there was plenty of that! It was based on trust. And love. George and Bess were the greatest.

  But there was one thing she still didn’t understand. “George, can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “For days we thought that someone at the velodrome was trying to kill you. But every time we asked you to drop out of the Classic, you said no. How come? Why wouldn’t you quit?”

  George closed her eyes. “I guess I should explain that, huh?”

  “I am curious.”

  For a long minute, George said nothing. Then she reopened her eyes and glanced at them both. “It was because of you and Bess.”

  “What! Because of us?”

  “The truth is, I’ve always admired you both so.”

  Bess was shocked. “You admire me?”

  “Sure. Think about it. Nancy, you’re so incredibly smart, and Bess, you’re so incredibly pretty.” George smiled. “Anyway, all I have is sports. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at.”

  “Is that why you’ve always worked so hard at sports?” Nancy asked. “So you could keep up with us in a way?”

  “Sort of. It’s hard to explain. All I know is that the Classic was the biggest event I’ve ever entered. I really wanted to sweep it. Oh, how I wanted to sweep it!”

  “You almost did,” Bess said softly. “If you’d finished that road race—”

  “I know. I would have been first in the overall standings,” George said bitterly.

  A wave of affection swept over Nancy. “George?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I think there’s something you should know. You don’t have to do anything special, or be anything special on account of Bess and me. Right, Bess?”

  Bess nodded. “You said it. We love you just the way you are, Georgia Fayne.”

  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.