Carolyn Keene - Trial By Fire

Then she went to work on her bonds. The man had done a sloppy job. One of the knots gave a little, freeing a six-inch length of cord between her wrists.

Suddenly a radio crackled to life, and Nancy froze. After a few seconds, Nancy realized it was a CB. Her captor began talking so softly that she had to strain to hear.

“Lucked out. Granger didn’t show, but guess who did? Drew’s daughter.”

“His daughter! Hey, wait, Wes-”

“No names! The kid’s not deaf.”

“Oh. Yeah. Are you sure taking her is smart?”

“Very. When we call him and offer to exchange his baby girl for the name of Granger’s source, what do you think he’s going to do?”

Nancy stiffened. How stupid she had been!

“Suppose Granger hasn’t told Drew the name?” the voice on the radio said. “Reporters are funny about stuff like that.”

“If she hasn’t, she will now. Especially if she knows this kid’s life is in her hands.”

Nancy wasted no more time. She hadn’t been sure why she was being abducted-now she knew. There was no way she’d allow herself to be used against Ann and her father. She had to get her hands free and escape!

Face up on the floor, Nancy arched her spine until she was supporting her weight on the back of her neck and shoulders and the balls of her feet. She lowered her hands past her thighs until her fists were behind her knees. That was the easy part.

Then, knees to her chin, she inched her hands under her feet and over the toes of her running shoes. After a few minutes of struggle, her hands were in front of her at last.

“Stop that wiggling around back there, or I’ll stuff you in the trunk!” the man said, warning her.

She’d have to move more cautiously. Gently Nancy tugged off the blindfold, then stripped the tape from her mouth. She had been right about the condition of the car. The fabric on the back seat was split in several places, and the shield over the ceiling light was broken in half.

Using her teeth, she loosened the remaining knots at her wrists. Then it was just a matter of waiting for her chance.

After several minutes the car slowed. Nancy’s heart began to pound. If her abductor had reached his destination, and there were others around…

Inch by inch, she lifted her head just enough to peek out the front window. He had just been caught by a red light! It was now or never.

Nancy jumped forward and delivered a hard karate chop to the side of the man’s neck. But she must not have hit him squarely. As she opened the back door to jump out, he was fumbling with the handle of his door. She had only stunned him!

He was scrambling to get out, but Nancy was too quick for him. She threw her full weight against his open door and slammed it on his fingers. She saw his face contort with pain before she took off.

Nancy looked quickly around. She was somewhere downtown, but she couldn’t tell where exactly. She dashed around the corner, where the traffic was heavier, and scanned the block frantically for a blue uniform or a squad car. But there were none in sight. Nancy kept running until she saw a man getting out of a cab.

“Taxi!” she yelled and darted toward it. It seemed like forever before the cab’s passenger retrieved his briefcase from the back seat and paid his fare. Nancy was terrified that she might be seen. But finally the passenger was gone, and she was safely in the cab.

“Where to?” the driver asked, turning around.

Nancy found herself staring into the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen, causing her to hesitate. The sunlight streaming through the taxi’s window made the driver’s thick, light hair shine.

Quickly regaining her composure, her first thought was to go to the movie house, to get her car and then go to the police.

“The Grand Cinema on Shepherd, please.”

“You got it.” The driver pulled away from the curb and reached for the mike hanging from the dashboard. “Two-nine-seven,” he said into it.

“Go ahead, two-nine-seven.”

Nancy frowned. The dispatcher sounded very much like the man she’d heard over the CB in the other car. Perhaps it hadn’t been a CB, but a two-way radio like this one. There’d been no cab light on the roof of that car, but considering how beatup it had been, it might have been a taxi at one time.

“Two-nine-seven going to the Gr-”

“Wait.” Nancy stopped him, speaking softly.

“Say again, two-nine-seven,” the dispatcher said. “You cut yourself off.”

“Where would you like to go, miss?” the cab driver asked. He sounded a bit exasperated.

“Make that Fifth and Cranston,” Nancy said. She listened carefully as the dispatcher acknowledged the driver and signed off.

She wasn’t absolutely certain it was the same voice she had heard on the radio in the other car, but she couldn’t afford to take the chance. Her kidnapper might have told the man the place she had escaped from. All the dispatcher needed to hear was a cabbie report from that same vicinity that he was taking a fare to the Grand Theater, and he’d know Nancy Drew was his passenger.

The trip was a long one and the traffic heavy. Nancy kept glancing behind her until she was certain they hadn’t been followed. By the time she got out at Fifth and Cranston, her pulse was normal again.

And she made sure she checked the name on the side of the cab before it drove away. Gold Star Cab Company. A name to remember. And a face to remember, too, she thought, suddenly feeling guilty. She was already dating the best-looking guy in River Heights-Ned Nickerson. Although Jim Dayton, the name Nancy noticed on the cab driver’s license, did come pretty close.

Nancy turned her thoughts back to the mystery. Why would a cab company be part of a plot to kidnap Ann? And why had the voice on that radio recognized her father’s name when he heard it?

She had learned something. She just wasn’t sure what.

She’d learned something else, too-a very expensive lesson. She could be used as a weapon against her father.

The taxi ride had given Nancy a lot of time to think. She didn’t dare go back to the theater. Her kidnapper was no idiot. He would have guessed that she had driven to the Grand and would go back for her car. He’d probably be waiting for her. She’d have to leave the car there for a while.

Then Nancy remembered she wanted to try to see her uncle Jonathan Renk. She could phone the police from his house.

She hunted until she found another cab-not a Gold Star-and took it to the dignified old section of town where the judge lived in a large white house.

“Something’s going on,” the cabbie said as they approached the front gate of the house. “I don’t think they’ll let me in there.”

It looked as if every reporter in town was camped along the street. A policeman sat in a squad car blocking the gate, and a second stood guard on the sidewalk.

Nancy was starting to say she’d get out right there when she noticed the reporters turning to stare into the taxi.

Quickly Nancy gave the cabbie directions to the rear entrance. Then she paid him and got out. The back gate was closed, too, but she buzzed the house from the intercom hidden in one of the brick pillars.

“It’s me-Nancy,” she told Mrs. O’Hara. After a two-second pause, the gate clicked open.

The housekeeper was waiting for her and drew her into the kitchen. Before Nancy had a chance to ask to use the phone, Mrs. O’Hara said, “The judge is in the library. He knew you’d come today.” She patted Nancy’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve had the devil’s own time getting him to eat. With you here, I have an excuse to serve a small snack. Perhaps he’ll take a mouthful or two to be sociable.”