Nancy got up slowly, stiff from sitting so long. Then, from the corner of her eye, Nancy saw someone scurry between two cars. She almost fainted with relief. It was Ned! He was working his way toward them.
Reston beckoned to Nancy. “You. Come here. We’re going upstairs. You’ll be my shield.”
“What about me?” Brownley asked.
“Take whichever one you want. Keep the other one between us.”
As she edged toward Reston, Nancy saw Ned move closer. She hoped he’d stop there. Any closer, and he’d be exposed.
Then Ann caught Nancy’s attention. The reporter’s eyes were almost closed. She looked pale, but surprisingly, she winked at Nancy. She had seen Ned, too! Her eyes darted toward Bess, back to Nancy, then back to Bess again.
Nancy looked at Bess with a quick sidewise glance and became very still. Bess’s lips were puckered. She puffed out her cheeks—once, then twice—and patted her chest.
The whistle! She was reminding Nancy of the whistle!
Nancy gave her a tight nod. Tensed for action, she waited.
Suddenly Ann moaned and began to crumple to the floor. Reston turned toward her.
Nancy moved in a blur of activity. Grabbing the chain around her neck, she yanked the whistle from under her sweater, put it in her mouth, and blew for all she was worth.
Reston whirled around. Nancy was balanced on one foot, ready for him. The other foot shot upward, the toe of her shoe slamming into the man’s hand.
The gun arched toward the ceiling. As Reston grabbed his wrist in agony, Nancy’s foot was in action again. This time she caught the point of his chin. His head snapped back, and he hit the floor as if he’d been struck by lightning.
Brownley had hesitated for a fraction of a second too long. He darted toward the door, but Ned tackled him. The impact slammed the dispatcher against the grille of one of the cabs. He was knocked cold.
“It worked!” Ned hugged Bess, then Nancy, before he bent to help Ann from the floor.
“Ned,” the reporter said, “I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life. Nancy, you were terrific!”
“If it hadn’t been for Bess,” Nancy said, “I’d probably still be standing there like an idiot.”
Ned took her hand. “I’m so sorry about that stupid phone! Hannah drove all the way over to tell me where you’d be. I got here as soon as I could.”
“You were just in time,” Nancy said, grabbing him in a bear hug. “And speaking of time, we’ve got to go!”
They all looked at Jim, who had only moaned when Nancy’s whistle had sounded.
“Maybe he should stay here with me. George’s car is right outside the entrance to Fleet’s,” Ned said. “You take it. I’ll put these two in that cage and call the police.”
Ann, leaning weakly against a Cadillac, managed a smile. “I’ll stay, too. The way my legs are shaking, I’d just slow you down.”
“Come on, let’s go,” Bess said, tugging the envelope from her blouse again.
Nancy started toward the door. “By the way, Ned, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“What?”
She turned and pointed. “There’s your car.”
He looked at it and made a strangled sound. “It’s gold! Somebody’s painted my baby gold! Why?”
“It’s a long story,” Ann said with a genuine smile. “Scram, Nancy. I’ll tell him.”
Nancy threw him a kiss and grabbed Bess. “Let’s go.” They sprinted through the opening in the stack of boxes. “Might as well cut through Fleet’s,” Nancy said. “I’ve seen enough Gold Star cabs today.”
They had just skirted the worktable when suddenly Nancy skidded to a stop and spun around.
“What? What?” Bess said.
“Something I just saw.” Backtracking, Nancy went to the file cabinet. On the floor beside it was a box labeled “Nature Under Glass. Fragile.” Sitting on top of it was a plastic bowl. Nancy picked it up and peered at its contents, her mouth falling open in astonishment.
“Ladybugs!” Bess exclaimed.
Nancy reached in and removed a few. “They aren’t real. See what’s in the box, will you?”
While her friend pried open the flaps, Nancy examined the ladybugs more closely. They were tiny, soft-plastic replicas with hollow undersides.