058 Hot Pursuit

by Carolyn Keene

  "Bess!" Nancy hissed. Bess's head popped up from behind a hibiscus bush. "Gibbs is coming. Stall him."

  Bess raced toward the hut, pausing to pick up a coconut. Nancy heard Bess say "Hi" to Gibbs just as he opened the door. "Remember me, Bess Marvin, Mr. Gibbs? Maybe you can help me," she continued.

  Gibbs sounded impatient as he asked, "What is it?"

  "I was looking for the bunkhouse for male staff. Andrew asked me to meet him there, and I'm late." Bess giggled flirtatiously. "Do you know Andrew? He's one of your lifeguards—the one with the muscles."

  Easing herself down the tree trunk, Nancy laughed to herself. Bess was doing a great job! She just hoped Gibbs was falling for it.

  Gibbs muttered, "Of course, Andrew . . ."

  Nancy jumped the last few feet and scurried into the bushes, with George right behind her.

  "Just one more thing," Bess said. "When I was coming down the path, this coconut fell. It hit the roof of your hut, then bounced off and landed at my feet. It almost brained me!" she finished.

  Way to go, Bess! Nancy thought. That would explain why pieces of straw had fallen into the room. She held her breath, waiting to see if Gibbs would go for the story.

  "It hit the roof?" Nancy heard him ask.

  "Almost scared me to death," Bess said. "You should put warning signs under those trees."

  Gibbs sounded more relaxed as he told her, "That's not a bad idea, Bess." He gave her directions to the bunkhouse, then disappeared back into the hut.

  "What a performance!" George said a minute later as the three girls rushed back down the path.

  "Is there really a lifeguard named Andrew?" Nancy asked.

  Bess laughed. "Beats me, but Gibbs pretended that he knew the name. I think he likes to act as if everyone here is part of one big, happy family."

  "When the truth of the matter is that Pineapple Grove may just be a cover for a major smuggling operation." Nancy led the girls to a secluded section of the main lobby. The huge, overstuffed basket chairs set in a cozy nook gave them a place to sort out their latest discovery.

  "Smuggling?" Bess's eyes widened.

  "A people-smuggling operation." Nancy told her what she and George had seen inside the hut. "Gibbs and his men are helping illegal aliens to get out of their native countries. They give their clients U.S. residency cards, then help transport them to the U.S. mainland."

  "Though once they have papers, they can fly into the States on their own," George pointed out. "After all, St. John is a U.S. territory. Customs and immigration inspections aren't too strict when you fly in from an American territory."

  Nancy nodded. "That's why those guests were coming from the hut at night. The smugglers must bring them in at the secret landing, sneak them through the tunnel, and process their paperwork in the hut. Then the 'guests' can enjoy a few days at the resort before they go off'to start a new life in America."

  "But why pay to come into the U.S.?" Bess asked, frowning. "Why don't they just come in legally?"

  "For some people this is the only way," Nancy explained. "Immigration can be really complicated, and it takes a long time. And if they come from certain countries, where there might be immigration quotas, it's almost an impossibility.

  "That explains what Eva was doing here," Nancy continued. "And the Cordero brothers, too. Their names were on the 'client' list in the hut."

  "Wow!" Bess exclaimed. "All that money and trouble to sneak into the States. I guess we don't always realize how good we have it."

  George was drumming her fingers on the arms of her chair. "But where does Ricky Angeles fit into Gibbs's operation?" she asked.

  "Ricky must be trying to smuggle his sister Maria in," Nancy answered.

  "Of course!" George whistled through her teeth. "But something must have gone wrong."

  Nancy nodded. "That's why he threatened Gibbs."

  "Therefore, Gibbs has been trying to have Ricky killed," George added, following Nancy's logic.

  "Right. They must have decided it would be easy to eliminate Ricky on the bike trip. Gibbs and Daniel would definitely have access to a master key, so one of them could have slipped into Ricky's room and tampered with his music equipment."

  "I guess they didn't count on your brilliant rescues, Nancy," Bess said, grinning.

  Nancy thought for a moment. "But something tells me there's more to Ricky's story," she said. "Why would Gibbs try to kill him? He'll never get extortion money with Ricky dead."

  Bess shivered. "In other words, this case isn't completely solved yet."

  Nancy stood up. "Not until we hear the truth from Ricky Angeles."

  "Late-night visitors?" Ricky said, opening the door to his room and motioning for Nancy, Bess, and George to come in. "I just got out of the infirmary tonight."

  Ricky turned off his television, then crossed to sit on the edge of his bed. Although he was still pale, he seemed alert and gave them a cheerful smile. "Any news?" he asked.

  Nancy told him what they had seen in the hut. "When I discovered that Gibbs was smuggling people in"—she paused before finishing—"I realized that your sister was supposed to be among them."

  A look of surprise came over Ricky's face. He stood up abruptly and went to stare out the balcony window. "So you know," he said slowly. "I would have told you, Nancy, but this thing has become dangerous."

  "You don't have to convince us of that,"

  George told him, then described Nancy's narrow escape from the moving steel barrel.

  Ricky buried his face in his hands for a moment. "I didn't realize Gibbs was so desperate to keep things quiet. But I should have known. I knew that those close calls weren't accidents."

  With a look of resignation, he sat up straight and faced the girls. "Gibbs was supposed to be providing me with an invaluable service," he explained. "For twenty thousand dollars, he promised to get my sister Maria into the States."

  "What about you?" Bess asked. "Did you come to the U.S. illegally?"

  He shook his head. "Back then the immigration laws were different. When I was a boy, my family was driven out of Mindanao, a southern island of the Philippines, because of the fighting that was going on there. When my parents realized how much danger we were in, they decided to send me to the U.S. with my grandfather."

  "What about your parents?" George asked. "Were they reluctant to leave their homeland?"

  "They were planning to follow with Maria." Ricky's eyes filled with tears. He swallowed before continuing. "But before the arrangements were completed, they were killed—casualties of the fighting. Maria was all alone. Eight years old and all alone. She stayed with some neighbors, then went to work when she was old enough."

  Nancy didn't know what to say. She didn't approve of bringing Maria into the U.S. illegally, but she hoped Ricky could be reunited with his sister. The thought of the young girl left alone was heart-wrenching. Nancy couldn't imagine living through something so terrible.

  "What about the immigration authorities?" she suggested after an awkward pause. "Did you try to get Maria in through legal means?"

  Ricky nodded wearily. "We've had an application on file at the U.S. Department of Immigration for years. But the processing takes so long. Then once you're approved, there's a quota system. The authorities put a cap on immigrants from certain countries, like Mexico and the Philippines. Right now it's nearly impossible for Filipinos to get into America. Maria would have a chance if she were the wife or daughter of an American citizen. But it takes a lot longer for other relatives, even brothers and sisters. She may never get in legally."

  "That must be hard," Bess said gently. "All these years you two have tried to get together, but your countries are keeping you apart."

  "It's always been rough on Maria," Ricky admitted. "I was fortunate to have my grandfather in America. But now he's gone, too."

  The corners of Ricky's mouth turned down. "It's been an endless struggle. I heard about Gibbs's operation through a friend. I didn't have any trouble talking the
band into coming here, and once our agent agreed, everything was set. When I was coming here on the plane, I was so hopeful. I kept picturing Maria's smiling face, knowing that soon she would be in America." His voice became choked with emotion. "But now everything has backfired."

  "What happened?" asked George.

  "I wish I knew. Gibbs says that she never met his contact on the boat leaving the Philippines, but I don't believe him. I was skeptical when he first explained the delay. Then, when I saw Courtney wearing Maria's earrings, I knew that Gibbs was lying. Those earrings are proof that Maria made it here to Pineapple Grove."

  Nancy looked at Ricky. "Where do you think Maria is now?"

  Ricky's eyes glimmered with sudden fury. "I'm not sure, but I bet Steven Gibbs knows more than he's letting on."

  "Has Gibbs ever tried to increase his fee?" Nancy asked. "Maybe he's keeping her hidden until you come up with more money."

  "No." Ricky shook his head. "I still owe him half the money, but he knows I'll pay as soon as I see her, and he's never asked for a penny more than the price we originally agreed on. He just keeps telling me to be patient." He turned to Nancy, a desperate look in his eyes. "I'm afraid something really terrible has happened to her."

  As Nancy listened to Ricky, she realized that the situation was much more serious than she had guessed at first. Looking from Ricky to her friends, she said, "This has gone way too far. I think we'd better go to the police."

  "No!" Ricky shook his head vehemently. "We can't do that. I won't risk Maria's hfe."

  "Ricky—" Nancy began, but she was interrupted when he pulled a piece of paper from the drawer of the nightstand and handed it to her.

  "I found this in my room when I returned from the infirmary," he told her. "Someone must have slipped it under the door."

  Nancy stared down at the note typed on plain white paper. There was no signature, but the sender's message was clear: Stay away from the police—if you want to see your sister alive again!

  Chapter Fourteen

  "That's a pretty strong warning," Nancy commented, passing the note to Bess and George.

  Ricky swallowed nervously. "That's why I don't want to get the police involved. Besides, the local police wouldn't listen. Everyone around here adores Gibbs. Pineapple Grove has brought a lot of money and jobs to the area."

  "You're right," George agreed. "And it wouldn't be safe to place a call to immigration officials using the resort phone system."

  "Still," said Nancy, shaking her head, "we have to find a way to report this." Ricky started to object, but she was emphatic. "Ricky, the immigration agents may be the only ones who can save your sister's life. I can't promise that she'll be admitted to the States, but right now we have to concentrate on finding her—alive."

  "And how do you suggest we do that?" Ricky challenged her.

  "I'll do my best to track her down." Nancy glanced at her watch. "It's after midnight—a little late to start combing the resort now. But I'll start searching first thing in the morning. Do you have a recent picture of Maria that I can use?"

  Ricky pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and took out a color photograph, which he handed to Nancy.

  "Thanks," she told him, studying the smiling face of the pretty, slender girl with dark hair. "This should help."

  "What about the police?" George asked.

  "Well," Nancy said after a pause, "I think our best bet is to contact the Department of Immigration—personally. So tomorrow morning you and Bess take the early air taxi to Saint Thomas for a tour of the island. First stop, Department of Immigration."

  "That's some tour," Bess said jokingly. "I can't wait to hear what you have in mind for the afternoon. But no kidding, Ricky," she added, smiling at the bass player, "we're glad to help out any way we can."

  Ricky smiled back at her, but he still seemed nervous. Getting up from the bed, he started pacing again. "What do you want me to do?"

  "Stay calm and cool—and be careful," Nancy told him firmly. "We don't want to give Gibbs and his men any more opportunities to hurt you."

  Shooting Nancy a worried glance, he asked, "Should I bow out of filming tomorrow? I could help you search the resort."

  "No, I don't want you to make any moves that might let Gibbs know we're onto him."

  "We'd better go now," Nancy said, heading for the door. "We're going to need a good night's rest!"

  The next morning, after seeing Bess and George off at the boat dock, Nancy began a systematic search of Pineapple Grove. She didn't know who on the staff might be involved with Gibbs's operation, so she tried not to attract the attention of anyone wearing a turquoise and white resort uniform. But the staff was so large and helpful that everywhere she turned she ran into a maid asking if she needed directions or a waiter offering her a cool drink!

  After three hours of knocking on doors and peeking in windows, she had checked the arts and crafts shop, the bakery, the sports equipment shed, the kitchen, and about a dozen other buildings and sheds. If Maria Angeles was hidden at the resort, Nancy thought dejectedly, her presence was a well-guarded secret.

  She decided to check out one last building before taking a break for lunch. As Nancy approached a long narrow hut just behind the kitchen, she saw steam billowing out from a vent on the roof She knocked on the door a few times, and when no one answered, she swung the door open and glanced inside to see rows of men and women pressing bed linens with steam machines. A quick look told Nancy that nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

  Nancy stepped back on the small porch and closed the door. She turned around—and found herself staring directly into the glaring face of Daniel!

  Nancy's heart leaped into her throat. Her face was just inches away from Daniel's brawny neck. His strong hands closed around her arms and moved her aside.

  "My, my," he said, laughing. "I've never seen a girl so fascinated with steam pressers before."

  How long had he been watching her? she wondered uneasily. Had he just seen her by chance, or had he been keeping an eye on her all morning? Nancy's pulse was racing, but she hid her nervousness with a tight smile.

  "Actually, I'm interested in everything that goes on behind the scenes at Pineapple Grove."

  "Oh, sure," Daniel teased, but his jovial smile couldn't disguise the cold gleam in his eyes. "All of our guests are fascinated by launderers and bakers."

  The bakery was one of the first places she had checked out that morning. So he had been watching her.

  "I'm serious. My boyfriend is thinking about opening a hotel, and he asked me to check out everything."

  "No fooling? What kind of a boyfriend would ask a pretty girl like you to go snooping around when she could be enjoying herself in the sunshine?" Daniel laughed again, and the hollow sound made Nancy shiver despite the heat.

  "I guess Tm just an explorer at heart," Nancy said in a lighthearted tone, ignoring his question.

  Daniel gave her a piercing look, then said, "Well, you'd be better off exploring less and relaxing more. That's what Pineapple Grove is all about—a slice of paradise." With a wink, he turned away from her and started down the path.

  Nancy watched him until he disappeared from sight, then she turned in the opposite direction and headed toward the terrace for lunch. She still felt uncomfortable, and couldn't help wondering just how much longer she would be safe at Pineapple Grove. Daniel hadn't overtly threatened her, but she knew he was onto her. She had to solve this case, and soon—before something else happened.

  Nancy filled her plate with fruit salad, then sat at a table overlooking the beach. As she ate, she turned the clues over in her mind. Unfortunately, she didn't have much to go on when it came to finding Maria Angeles. She had a feeling that she could search the resort for weeks without seeing everything. No, she had to come up with another way of finding Ricky's sister.

  As Nancy munched on a slice of coconut, she tried to think of everyone who might know about Maria's whereabouts. Gibbs and his goons knew, of c
ourse. But they wouldn't be likely to let such information slip. Unless—

  Nancy suddenly stopped chewing as she remembered Vincent Lanchester. He'd been heavily sedated the day before, but maybe his condition had improved. She decided to pay him a visit right after lunch.

  "He's talking a little today, but he slips in and out of sleep very easily," the nurse told Nancy at the infirmary.

  "May I see him?" Nancy asked. She hoped they didn't have rules limiting visitors.

  "Of course."

  The nurse directed Nancy to a sunny room with two steel-frame beds. Vincent's eyes were closed, but the patient in the bed beside him was sitting up and reading a magazine. "Hello," the man greeted her. "You here to visit my roomie?"

  Nancy nodded. "I need to ask him a few questions—if he wakes up, that is."

  "Well, good luck," the man said. "I've been sharing this room for almost a day now, and it seems all he ever does is sleep." He waved his hands in the air and babbled on. "That wouldn't bother me, of course, except that he talks in his sleep. It's very annoying when you're trying to rest."

  Without any prompting, the man introduced himself as Melvin Bell, a guest at the resort. He was being treated for sitting on a poisonous sea urchin. "I have red marks all over my— Well, it was painful."

  "I'm sure it was," Nancy said politely, then turned to Vincent.

  "Can you hear me?" she asked, calling his name.

  Vincent stirred, but his eyes remained closed.

  When Nancy said his name again, he started muttering. Unfortunately, it was all gibberish. He kept saying something that sounded like "deaf-shane."

  "Oh, he's on that kick again," Melvin announced, shaking his head as if he were speaking about a naughty child.

  "Pardon me?"

  "He says that over and over again. Devil's chain, Devil's chain." Melvin shivered. "Gives me the creeps."

  The Devil's Chain? Wasn't that the name of those small islands near the mouth of the cove? Nancy tried to get some kind of response from Vincent, but he merely repeated the same words over and over.