005 Hit and Run Holiday (4 page)

Nancy felt more and more uncomfortable. She was just about to give Dirk a real brush-off, when he pulled her around to face him.

“I do know my way around Lauderdale,” he said seriously, and Nancy noticed his sexy smile was gone. “If we can get together—privately—I think I might be able to give you a few tips about this mystery. You want to help your friend, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” Nancy said. “But right now, you’re the one who’s being mysterious. If you know something, why don’t you just tell me?”

Dirk shook his head. “I would, believe me, but it’s just not the right time or place. Besides, first I have to know everything you
know.” Glancing past Nancy, Dirk seemed to see someone he recognized. He raised his arm in a greeting, then brought his hand down so that it was resting on the back of Nancy’s neck. It was like a caress, Nancy thought, but there was nothing romantic about the look in his eyes. “Tomorrow, right?” he asked intently.

Nancy wasn’t sure if Dirk was making a pass at her or if he really did know something about Kim. But she had to find out. “Okay,” she finally agreed. “Tomorrow.”

“Good.” Dirk’s smile returned, and giving Nancy’s neck a gentle squeeze, he sauntered off to meet whomever it was he’d waved to.

Nancy watched him for a second, then turned to catch up with George and Bess. George was almost at the street, but Bess hadn’t moved. She’d obviously been watching the whole thing, because she gave Nancy a confused look. Then she strode across the beach, completely ignoring the dozens of boys who tried to get her attention.

Nancy sighed and slipped off her sandals. She jogged across the warm sand toward Bess, trying to decide how to tell her that she didn’t like—or trust—Dirk Bowman one bit.

Nancy was only a few yards from Bess when she suddenly stopped short, completely forgetting about Bess and Dirk for the moment. In
front of her was a lifeguard’s chair, and sitting in that chair was a handsome, bronze-skinned, dark-haired boy in a small black bathing suit. Nancy knew he was the guy she’d seen at the hit and run and rummaging around Kim’s hotel room not half an hour earlier.

Nancy hoped nobody was drowning at the moment, because the guy sure wouldn’t be any help—he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

The only place he’s seen you is at the hit-and-run scene, she reminded herself. He doesn’t know you were in that hotel room, watching him.

Tossing her hair back, Nancy curved her lips in a slow smile and walked over to the lifeguard’s chair.

“Hi, there,” the lifeguard said when she reached him.

“Hello.” Nancy noticed a small canvas beach bag at the foot of the chair. She would have given anything to see what was inside it. Still smiling, she said, “This is my first day in Lauderdale. Got any suggestions about how I should spend my time?”

The lifeguard raised his eyebrows. “Most people come here for the sun and the water,” he said, in a slight Hispanic accent. “Isn’t that what you came for?”

“Well, sure,” Nancy told him. “Sun, surf, and . . . new friends, right?”

“Maybe.” He gave her a teasing grin. “If you’re lucky.”

“Speaking of luck,” Nancy went on, “one of my friends ran into a bad streak of it this morning. Or rather, it ran into her.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. She was hit by a car, right in front of the Vistamar.” Nancy kept her smile in place, trying not to sound too serious. “A lot of people were around. Maybe I’m wrong, but I thought I saw you there.”

The lifeguard shifted in his chair, glanced out at the water, and then back at Nancy. His smile was gone, and his dark eyes were hard. “You’re right,” he said coldly. “You are wrong.”

“Oh, well,” Nancy said with a shrug. “My mistake.”

The lifeguard didn’t answer. He just stared at her a moment longer, then shifted his gaze back to the water.

He was lying, Nancy was sure. But there was no way she could prove it. Not yet. Figuring she’d only make him suspicious if she asked any more questions, she decided to drop the subject for the time being. She hitched her beach bag onto her shoulder and turned to leave.

Nancy was only about three feet away from the lifeguard’s chair when she felt it—a sharp,
burning pain in her left foot, as if she’d stepped on a red-hot needle. Gasping, she jerked her foot away and fell onto the sand. As she fell, she glanced up at the lifeguard. He was watching her, and his smile was back.

B
ITING HER LIP
to keep from crying out, Nancy grabbed her foot and looked around to see what she’d stepped on. A few inches away she saw a large, bluish, slimy object partly covered by sand. It was a jellyfish, obviously, and as Nancy rubbed her foot, she wondered what kind it was and whether its poison was going to do any more damage than it already had.

A boy who’d seen her fall trotted over and prodded the jellyfish with a stick. “Portuguese man-of-war,” he told her. “Ugly looking, huh?”

Nancy nodded. “What’s going to happen
now?” she asked. “Is my foot going to shrivel up and fall off?” She was trying to joke, but the pain she felt was anything but funny.

The boy didn’t look too amused either. “Well, I don’t want to scare you,” he said, “but I think you ought to hot-foot it to a doctor, excuse the pun.”

Nancy suddenly remembered some stories about things like shock and unconsciousness. It’s a good thing I’m on my way to the hospital, she thought. The boy offered her a hand, and she got to her feet, wincing. “Thanks.”

“Any time,” he told her. Glancing up at the lifeguard, he cupped his hands and called out, “Hey, Ricardo! You’re falling down on the job, man. Why didn’t you warn her these things are all over the beach today?”

Stunned, Nancy looked at the lifeguard too. So he was Ricardo. And his chair was the “perch” Kim had mentioned. No wonder he’d clammed up when she mentioned seeing him at the hit-and-run site. She wondered what he would have done if she’d told him about overhearing Kim’s phone conversation with him, or seeing him sneaking around Kim’s hotel room. Instead of letting me step on a jellyfish, he’d probably have tried to feed me to the sharks, she thought with a shudder.

At least she knew who the enemy was. All she had to do was find out why he was the enemy. Looking at Ricardo, who had made no
apology and no move to help her, Nancy realized that deliberately letting her step on the man-of-war was his way of telling her to keep her nose out of his business.

You blew it, Ricardo, Nancy thought. Scaring me off doesn’t work. And if you hadn’t tried it, I might not have learned your name, and then I wouldn’t come after you. But I will now.

Nancy started to walk away, stumbled, and nearly fell again. Her foot was beginning to go numb.

“Hey, you okay?” asked the boy who’d helped her up.

“No, but I’m sure I will be,” Nancy told him. Then she raised her voice so that Ricardo could hear her. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be back, too. You can count on it.”

As quickly as she could, Nancy made her way up the beach to her hotel. Bess and George had already changed, and when Nancy told them what had happened, they helped her change, then hustled her into the car and rushed her to the hospital emergency room as fast as possible. By the time they got there, the bottom of Nancy’s foot was red and swollen, and the pain went clear up to her knee. But after checking her over, the doctor on duty said she’d be fine.

“You’re lucky,” she told her, as she rubbed some salve on Nancy’s foot. “You must have
stepped on just one of its tentacles. If you’d been badly stung, your friends might have had to carry you in here.”

Nancy smiled in relief as the medicine started to ease the stinging. The doctor gave her the tube of salve, and after thanking her, Nancy, Bess, and George took the elevator to Kim’s room. Kim’s mother had just arrived, and she greeted the three girls with tears in her eyes.

“I just don’t understand how this could have happened!” Mrs. Baylor pulled a fresh tissue from the box on Kim’s bedside table and wiped her eyes. “I was against this trip in the first place. I should never have let her come!”

Nancy reached out to touch Mrs. Baylor’s arm. “You can’t blame yourself,” she said gently.

“Oh, I know.” Mrs. Baylor smoothed back her hair and blew her nose. “I’m just so worried. The police don’t seem to be very hopeful about finding the driver or the car. They were nice, but I can tell they’re not going to spend a lot of time on this. Meanwhile, my daughter’s lying here unconscious!”

Nancy, Bess, and George stared at Kim, not knowing what to say. The doctors had told them that Kim was stable, that things looked very promising for her. But she still hadn’t wakened, and it was hard to sit and just watch
her. It made them feel helpless, and
that
made them feel edgy.

Nancy was especially edgy. First of all, Kim’s mother couldn’t seem to stop crying. Not that Nancy blamed her. Her daughter had been run down; she had every right to cry. But all the sniffing and nose-blowing and sobbing made it hard to think. And Nancy needed to think. She was still in the dark about what was going on, despite the fact that she had two good leads—the picture of the girl and Ricardo. He was obviously mixed up in it, but how? And exactly what was he mixed up in? Maybe Dirk Bowman knew. His not-so-subtle hint made Nancy very curious, and she wished she could be with him at that very moment.

But one glance at Bess told Nancy that she’d better keep that wish to herself. Between the man-of-war sting and visiting Kim at the hospital, Nancy hadn’t had a chance to explain things to her. Not that she had much explaining to do. She hadn’t come on to the guy; he’d come on to her. Bess would realize that.

Actually, when Nancy thought about it, Dirk had started coming on to her as soon as she had mentioned what had happened to Kim. Perhaps he had more than just information for her. Nancy couldn’t pass up a chance to learn something. She’d talk to Bess as soon as she could.

About the only thing not annoying Nancy was her foot. It was feeling better by the minute, so she knew she could make good on her promise to Ricardo—she’d be back. That was what was really making her edgy—she wanted to get out of the hospital and back on the trail.

“Oh, how lovely!” Mrs. Baylor exclaimed suddenly. Nancy glanced up and saw that a good-looking guy had just entered Kim’s room carrying a big arrangement of flowers. He was wearing a brown uniform, so he must have been from a flower shop. He set the basket on the table, gave Kim a close look, then quickly left the room.

“That was so nice of you girls,” Mrs. Baylor said tearfully.

George looked embarrassed. “Don’t thank us,” she said. “I’m afraid we didn’t send them.”

“Then who did?” mused Kim’s mother.

Nancy reached over and carefully pushed aside the daisies and carnations, but she could find no card. Strange, she thought. Why would somebody send flowers without a card? And just who had sent them?

Kim’s mother started to cry again. “This is like a nightmare,” she sobbed. “Who on earth would want to hurt my daughter?”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Baylor,” Nancy told
her. “But I promise you, I’m going to find out.”

• • •

When Dirk Bowman arrived at the Surfside Inn the next morning to pick her up, Nancy was sure of one thing—Bess was no longer upset with her. She understood what Nancy had to do. However, she was still hurt, and she was furious with Dirk for dumping her so rudely.

Nancy dressed casually in light cotton pants and a cotton shirt with a wild island print over her bikini. She wished she could wear her new sandals, but she put on her sneakers instead, since she wasn’t sure what Dirk would end up showing her.

At precisely eleven o’clock, Dirk, lean and tan, showed up. Nancy greeted him, then stepped out with him into the fresh morning air.

“Ever been windsurfing?” Dirk asked, taking her hand and leading her toward a red sports car parked at the curb.

“No,” Nancy told him. “I’ve surfed and I’ve sailed, but never at the same time.” She liked his car, and she couldn’t help admitting that she also liked the feel of his hand. Bess has great taste, she thought.

“Well, then, you’ll probably catch on quickly,” Dirk said with a dimpled smile. He put
the car in gear and drove quickly down the street. “It’s really terrific once you get the hang of it.” For the next ten minutes, he kept up a steady, one-sided conversation about the joys of windsurfing.

It was all very interesting, Nancy thought, but it wasn’t the information she was after. If Dirk really wanted to turn Nancy on, he’d tell her what he knew about Kim.

“Listen,” she said, finally interrupting him. “I don’t want to be rude, but you said you might be able to help me out on this case, that you might have some information for me.”

“That’s right,” Dirk answered with an easy smile. “I might. But I told you, I need to know everything you know first.”

Nancy was trying to decide what to tell him when Dirk parked the car, got out, and led her to a dock where an outboard boat loaded with two surfboards was tied. They jumped on, Dirk started the engine, and as they sped away, Nancy glanced back at the dock. Ricardo was standing there, watching them. Nancy felt a chill as she watched his figure grow smaller and smaller. What was Ricardo doing there, anyway? Had he followed her and Dirk? Were he and Dirk connected in some way?