Carolyn Keene - An Instinct for Trouble

Then without warning it swerved toward her, its front bumper banging into Nancy's door. She struggled to control the wheel, but the van slammed into her again, forcing her car toward the edge of the ravine.

She glanced to her right, and her stomach twisted. The drop was endless, and she was just about to go over!

Chapter Six

All that separated Nancy from a drop into the ravine was a couple of feet of shoulder, and the van was continuing to nudge her over.

Nancy accelerated, attempting to pull ahead of her pursuer. She knew she couldn't keep driving at this speed-the road was too treacherous.

In seconds the van was behind her again, moving up to slam into her from the rear. She rounded a curve and spotted a sign for a scenic overlook. As she approached it, she took a deep breath and jerked the wheel sharply to the right. The wheels skidded on the gravel.

The van followed and was just about to ram into her again when Nancy saw a tall lodge pole pine at the far end of the overlook parking area. She steered her car straight at it. She was just about to hit it when she swerved left and shot back onto the highway.

In the rearview mirror, she saw the van graze the tree she had just missed. Then, to her astonishment, the driver of the van backed up, turned, and roared off in the other direction. Puzzled, Nancy stopped her car. When she looked ahead of her, she saw a park service vehicle pulling into the parking area and understood why the driver of the van had headed off in such a hurry. He'd seen the ranger, too.

The ranger stopped his car next to hers and jumped out. He was about forty and had a crew cut and neat mustache. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Nancy nodded, even though she felt shaken. "A van tried to run me off the road."

"Did you see who was driving?" The ranger leaned his elbows on the edge of her window. Nancy noted the name on the plate pinned to his breast pocket: Martin Robbins.

She shook her head.

"Will you come to my office to make a report? It's near the north entrance," he continued.

Nancy followed him back up the road to the ranger station.

Once inside and settled in a chair, she watched while Robbins filled out a report. "I don't suppose you got the license number?"

Nancy shook her head ruefully. "Sorry, things happened too fast. I did notice the words Minden Linen painted on the door of the van. Does that mean anything to you?"

"It's the biggest linen service in this area. All the hotels in Yellowstone get their sheets and towels from there. I know their chief dispatcher. I'll call him," Martin suggested.

Even though she only heard Martin's half of the conversation. Nancy could tell that something was wrong.

“Well?" she asked eagerly once he had hung up.

"One of their drivers, Bert Heckleby, missed a couple of deliveries this morning," Martin replied. "He's not answering calls on his radio either."

Could someone have paid Heckleby to attack her? Or stolen his van?

"I get the feeling that there's more to this than you're telling me," Martin said.

Taking a deep breath, Nancy explained everything, including the propane stove explosion and the missing marmots.

Martin nodded. "Jack's kept me up to date on the problems, but he's not convinced the marmots are being poached. He thinks someone may be trying to sabotage the study."

"That's a possibility," Nancy replied. "But traps and tranquilizers have been stolen. That points to poaching."

The ranger frowned. "I did pass on word of this to the people at the Fish and Wildlife Service," he said. "But there's no telling what they'll do about it. I wish I could help more, but I simply don't have the staff."

After Nancy told Martin that she was a detective, he grinned and nodded appreciatively. "I'd welcome any help you can give, but be careful. Poaching is dangerous business especially when big money is at stake."

"I understand that whistling marmots can bring as much as five hundred dollars apiece on the black market," Nancy remarked. "If fifty of them really were stolen, the poachers stand to make twenty-five thousand dollars."

Martin glanced above Nancy's shoulder. She turned to see Jack Billings at the open door of the office.

He grinned at her and put a slide projector on the table in the comer of the room. "That ought to work now, Martin. Hey, Nancy. What brings you here?"

"You'd better look after this girl. Jack," Martin cautioned. "Somebody doesn't like her. A guy in a van just tried to run her off the road."

"What? Are you serious?" Jack moved closer to Nancy and put his hand on her shoulder solicitously. "Are you okay? You want me to drive you back to the hotel?"

"No need," Nancy replied. "I'm on my way to visit Brad, anyway."

She thanked Martin and then walked outside with Jack. The morning sun glinted against the dent in the side of the white rental car.

"You need to be more careful. Nancy. I'd feel terrible if anything happened to you."

"So would I," she joked. She couldn't help feeling attracted to him, but the warmth and concern she saw in his eyes made her feel awkward. "I'll tell Bess I saw you," she added pointedly.

"Please do. She's a great girl," Jack said, smiling. "I'll see both of you later, right?"

Nancy got into her car and drove off with only a wave for an answer. On the way to the hospital, she kept thinking about Jack. She hoped Bess wasn't getting into something she'd regret.

* * *

Brad's face broke into a welcoming smile when he saw Nancy. "Hi. It's great to see you."

"Hi yourself," she replied, dropping into a chair by the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Great! The doctor said I'll be out of this place in a day or two."

"I'm glad." Nancy leaned forward. "Listen, Brad, I want to talk about the problems the study's been having. Did you find out anything while you were investigating?"

"The professor is in real financial trouble," Brad replied reluctantly. "I found lots of overdue bills in his tent. You know he's put his own money into this study."

"Yes," Nancy said. "But once the extension comes through, he'll be reimbursed."

"That's just it," Brad said unhappily. "I found a letter from the Department of Interior in his tent. There won't be any extension. Trainey's application was turned down."

"What!" Nancy exclaimed. "That's terrible. That means the professor's out all that money."

Brad nodded. "I'm afraid so."

"Wow!" Nancy thought for a moment. "You know Professor Trainey pretty well, don't you?"

Brad nodded. "I think so. I've worked with him pretty closely for a couple of years."

"Could he be desperate enough to try to get his money back by selling marmots?" Nancy asked.

Brad hesitated for a long time, "I guess he could try to recoup his losses," he said, sighing.

"Does everyone know that you drink a lot of coffee?" Nancy went on.

Brad grinned, glad to change the subject. "Sure. Everybody kids me about always having a cup of the stuff glued to my hand."

"So it would have been a safe assumption that at some point in the evening you would light the stove to boil water?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

"What time did you get to the hut that night?"

"About seven-thirty," Brad replied.

Nancy nodded thoughtfully. The daily assignments were posted outside the command post shed, so everyone would have known that Brad was monitoring feeding station 1. Alicia left the hut around six-thirty. That left the place empty for an hour-plenty of time to sabotage the stove.

"I understand that you and Professor Trainey have the only keys to the command post," Nancy said, turning her thoughts to how the poachers could have gained access to the computer that monitored the marmots' signals.

" Technically , I guess that's true."