Chalk one up for our side, Nancy thought and then turned back to the housekeeper. “What did the man look like, Mrs. O’Hara?”
“Oh my. Forty, maybe. Not tall, not short. Average, he was, wearing the purple cable company cap. That’s all I really looked at.”
Nancy decided not to pressure her to remember any more. The police would be doing that soon enough.
One of the officers who had been stationed out front interrupted them. “Excuse me, but were either of you ladies expecting a Hannah Gruen and a Bess Marvin?”
“Hannah’s come?” Mrs. O’Hara rushed out of the pantry.
“It’s okay,” Nancy said to the officer and followed him to the back door.
There were two cars outside. One of them was Nancy’s.
Hannah was lifting a cake carrier from the rear of her station wagon. “I baked a cake this morning,” she called to Mrs. O’Hara. “Thought I’d bring it along so you’d have something in the house to serve to visitors.”
“Oh, bless your heart.” The judge’s housekeeper pecked Hannah on the cheek and led her into the kitchen.
“Are you all right?” Hannah asked as she passed Nancy at the door.
“I’m okay.” Nancy managed a smile for her, then turned to stare at Bess, who stood nervously in front of the Mustang. “How’d you pick up my car?” she asked her friend.
“As soon as you talked to me, I called Hannah and asked her to wait for me. She found the spare keys to your car and drove me to the Grand so I could follow her here in it.”
Nancy hugged her. “You are a real pal. Thanks.”
“Sure. I just thought that if it stayed there too long, somebody might steal it. Is there anything I can do? In there?” Bess nodded toward the house.
“No. Now that Hannah’s here, she’ll take over. Your timing’s great. I was just about to call a cab.”
After checking with the detective, Nancy said her goodbyes and promised to keep in touch with Mrs. O’Hara. As she and Bess drove through the back gate, she saw where the rosebushes on her left had been ripped by the van. Its fender must have been sticking out quite far to have done as much damage as it had.
Nancy poured out her worries to Bess about how much more difficult it would be to clear her father now. She wasn’t paying much attention to the road—until a hard bump against the back of the Mustang alerted her to what was happening behind her.
“What was that?” Bess asked, turning in her seat.
“Some idiot is tailgating me at fifty-five miles an hour!” Nancy said. Her eyes flew to the rearview mirror, and she saw the ebony-tinted windshield of a dirty white van. It was so close that its front bumper might have been locked with Nancy’s rear one.
“He must be crazy!” Bess said.
“I hope that’s all he is,” Nancy responded. It might be pure coincidence that it was a white van, she told herself. There were a lot of dummies on the road who got a kick out of driving recklessly. She sped up to put a little distance between them.
The increase in speed didn’t work. The van simply closed the distance and banged her again, so hard that she and Bess were thrown forward violently. Only her seat belt prevented Nancy from hitting the steering wheel. If there had been a car in front of her, she’d have been pushed into it.
“Can you see his fender?” she asked Bess anxiously.
Bess peered in the outside mirror on her door. “Uh-huh,” she said, her teeth clenched.
“Is it bent? Sticking out on the side?”
“Uh-huh. Do you know who it is?”
“Sort of.”
There was no time to explain. The van was closing in for another attack. The driver intended to force them off the road and over an embankment. From there it would be about a forty-foot drop. Straight down.
Chapter Seven
“Think you can get away from him?” Bess asked, her voice cracking with strain.
“Piece of cake,” Nancy said and hoped she sounded convincing. They were in a tight spot, and it was up to her to get them out of it.