Hot Tracks by Carolyn Keene Page A

choice. “Kitty wanted to talk to me,” she finally said. “She admitted that she worked with Jimmy Sandia, stealing cars, but she said she didn’t kill him.”
    â€œYeah, right,” Hawkins scoffed. “You knew we were looking for Kitty. Why didn’t you tell us where she was? I ought to arrest you for obstructing justice!”
    â€œI didn’t know where she was until a few minutes ago,” Nancy said calmly. She filled in Hawkins and Powderly about Dirk’s accident,and about what the Walters brothers had told her.
    â€œKitty was in the trailer all day,” Tiny spoke up, “so she couldn’t have tampered with his car.”
    â€œMaybe,” Stan Powderly said dubiously. “But even if Kitty isn’t guilty of murdering her partner, we still need to talk to her. Seems she’s the one person who can help us decide who is our culprit.”
    Nancy nodded her head in agreement. “Maybe Tiny can tell us where she went.”
    Tiny simply shrugged. “Beats me, but she probably got away in a 1988 Thunderbird.”
    Nancy studied the big man closely. She was almost positive he was lying to the detectives—he was too protective of Kitty to give away the real description of her car. She didn’t want the crooked cop to know that, though, so she said nothing.
    â€œThanks,” Detective Powderly told Tiny. “We’ll radio that information out.” He left for his car.
    Hawkins looked suspiciously at Tiny, then at Nancy. “You two better be telling us everything,” he growled. Then he stalked off, muttering, “Man, I’m glad my shift is over and I’m headed home.”
    When the two detectives had driven off, Tiny shook his head. “I don’t believe it. One of the guys who Kitty and Jimmy were working for was actually a cop.”
    â€œThat doesn’t mean it’s okay for Kitty to run from the police,” Nancy said firmly. She wrote her number down on a piece of paper, then pulled out Detective Quinones’s card and copied his number down, too. “You tell her to call me, or Raul Quinones,” she instructed, handing Tiny the piece of paper. “He’s the detective I’m reporting to. If she turns herself in, he’ll make sure she’s all right.”
    A few minutes later, as Nancy trudged toward the concession stand, she realized how exhausted and hungry she was. It was almost seven, and she hadn’t eaten since lunch. First she wanted to get to a phone and contact Detective Quinones. He needed to know about how Kitty had fingered one of his detectives.
    When she reached the concession stand, she went to the phone booth and left a message for Quinones that she had called and would try again from the hospital. Then, after grabbing a hot dog, she drove to the River Heights Hospital.
    A nurse directed Nancy down the hall, where Bess greeted her. Dirk was next to her, lying on a gurney next to a door marked X-Rays. Nancy was pleased to see that there was color in his face, though he was still wearing a neck brace.
    â€œI guess you’re not hurt too badly, if they’re leaving you out in the hall,” she joked.
    Smiling up at her, Dirk said, “The X-rays show my neck’s still there. I think they’re going to let me go home. There aren’t any emptyrooms, so I’m stuck here until I get the final word.”
    â€œJake just got here, too,” Bess told Nancy. “He went to get some sodas. He said he’ll drive Dirk home when he’s released.”
    â€œThey ran a bunch of tests,” Dirk added. “So far everything looks okay.”
    â€œHey, Nancy.” Jake came down the hall holding three cans of soda. “Did you see Kitty?” he asked.
    â€œYes.” Nancy filled them all in on what Kitty had said. She decided not to mention that Kitty had indicated that Hawkins or Powderly was the bad cop. The fewer people who knew about that,