It seemed forever before Nancy found her way back through the dense fog. With a sense of relief, she got into the car and flipped on the switch for the lights. The lights didn’t go on. Feeling a little uneasy, Nancy turned the key in the ignition. There was no response. She tried again, but the car wouldn’t start. Perfect, Nancy thought grimly, the battery’s dead. Now I have to walk around in this fog until I can find a phone and get someone to recharge the battery.
Sighing, she reached for the door handle, only to hear a click. Her door had just been locked—by someone who was in the back seat.
14
An Odd Reunion
Nancy tensed when she heard the click. Who was in the back seat—Jimmy? She was sure he hadn’t come up from the beach with her. She was afraid of whom she might see if she turned around to look.
“Just keep quiet and you won’t get hurt,” said a man’s voice. “Do you think you can do that?”
Nancy nodded. What good would screaming do? The sound would never carry from inside the car.
“I believe you’ve been looking for me,” the man said.
“You’re Malcolm Elgar, aren’t you?”
“Try Nick Finney.”
Slowly Nancy turned to face him.
Nicholas Finney looked nothing like the fair-haired man who drove the dark red car. He looked exactly as Terry had described him: a slight, wiry man with bright red hair and small, pointed features. His face looked surprisingly young. If it weren’t for the fine lines around his eyes and mouth, Nancy would have thought he was in his early twenties.
They stared at each other for a moment. “What did you do to the car?” Nancy asked as calmly as she could.
“Disconnected some wires. I’ll hook them up again,” he offered casually, “if you’ll set up a meeting for me with Terry Kirkland.”
“You didn’t need me for that,” Nancy said. “Terry still thinks of you as a friend. He’d have been glad to see you.”
A flicker of something that might have been surprise crossed Nick’s face. “Then there’s no problem, is there? You can just take me to him.”
Nancy found that her fear was quickly being replaced by anger. “Did you follow Terry to the show, destroy his work, and leave your dog tags as a greeting card? Why should I believe you’re Terry’s friend? How do I know that you’re not going to kill him?”
Nick lowered his eyes. “I’m not going to kill anyone,” he said softly. “And I’m not the one who wrecked his show. I haven’t seen my dog tags since the day I was taken prisoner of war. They were stolen from me.”
Nancy still wasn’t satisfied. “If you wanted to see Terry, why didn’t you just call him?” she asked. “You didn’t need to scare me half to death.”
“I didn’t think he’d want to see me,” Nick said quietly. “Not after all that’s happened—the break-ins, his daughter being kidnapped and all.”
“Which you weren’t responsible for?”
Nick gave her an angry, indignant look. “Terry was my friend.”
“Then how do you know about all those things?” she asked suspiciously.
Nick’s expression hardened. “I’ll explain everything to Terry. Now I want you to find a phone and tell him I need to see him. I’ll reconnect your wires.”
Nancy looked out at the wall of fog surrounding the car. “Where am I going to find a phone in this weather?”
Nick reached into his pocket and produced a flashlight. Then he gave her directions to the nearest pay phone, which he said was within walking distance. “Tell Terry to meet me at Ross,” he said. “He’ll know what I mean.”
Nancy set off into the thick fog, wondering if she’d lost her mind. She was helping Nick Finney, who might or might not be extremely dangerous. Worse, she was about to draw Terry into this, too. Maybe she should call the police instead. Maybe she should just vanish into the fog and let Nick find Terry on his own. Why don’t I? she wondered. The answer came to her at once: Nick Finney was trusting her. And in a weird way it made her feel that she had to trust him.
Nancy made the phone call to Terry and returned to the car to find the engine running and Nick Finney sitting in the driver’s seat. “Get in,” he said.
She got in next to him, feeling suddenly uneasy. What if Nicholas Finney had been lying all along? What if he wasn’t going to meet Terry? What if he had other plans for her? She just had to hope that he’d told the truth, or that she’d be able to find a way out of the situation.
“What did Terry say?” Nick asked abruptly.
“That he’d meet you at the entrance to Fort Ross,” Nancy reported truthfully. “He’ll be there in about an hour. He’s taking Amy to a friend’s house first.”
“That’s a good idea,” Nick said, pulling out of the Tennessee Valley parking lot.
“Fort Ross is up by the Russian River, isn’t it?” Nancy asked, wanting to keep him talking.
“Yes. I grew up near there, by the fort.”
“There’s a lot of history on the coast,” Nancy said. “And a lot between you and Terry,” she added. “Malcolm Elgar is part of it, too, isn’t he?”
Nick slid her a sharp, appraising look. “Very good,” he said in a light tone. “But I’m not answering questions now.”
Nick kept his word. Although Nancy repeatedly tried to draw him into conversation, he ignored her questions.
They rode north along the coast, past Mount Tamalpais, past the wide open waterway where the Russian River flowed into the Pacific. As they traveled north, the fog lifted. By the time they reached the fort’s redwood stockade, a clear blue dusk had fallen.
Terry’s van was parked at the entrance to the fort. Nancy could see him standing on the driver’s side. Nick pulled up alongside him and rolled down the window. “Follow me,” he said. Before Terry could respond, Nick pulled away, heading for the winding road above the sea. The tires squealed as he took a curve at a good fifteen miles above the speed limit.
“Would you please slow down,” Nancy said, holding on to the door handle. “What are you doing?”
