It wasn’t until Nancy was driving off campus and had had a chance to catch her breath that she explained to her friend what had happened.
“It sounds like you’re really onto something,” George said.
Nancy tightened her grip on the wheel. “Let’s hope so,” she said. “We’ll find out more when I decipher the tape. I should be able to figure out the words, letter by letter. But right now I’m pretty worried about the secretary finding that cassette gone. Rats!” she cried in frustration. “I didn’t have time to find another cartridge.”
About two miles from the college campus Nancy glanced in her rearview mirror. “You see that tan car behind us, George? It’s been following us ever since we left Westmoor.”
George craned her neck. “Who do you think it is?” she asked, squinting.
Just then a black van with dark tinted windows overtook the tan car and roared up alongside them.
“Watch out!” George cried as the van veered closer. “He’s trying to knock us off the road!”
Nancy twisted the wheel and stamped hard on the brakes. But the van continued to force her closer to the edge.
For a long moment Nancy fought desperately to keep the car on the road. But it was no use. The Mustang was about to plunge down the side of the ravine!
12
The Plot Thickens
“Hold on!” Nancy cried. The front end of the car turned over the cliff and began to slide down the ravine.
Suddenly the Mustang hit a dense clump of bushes and came to a standstill. Badly shaken, Nancy slowly struggled out of the car. “Are you all right?” she asked her friend.
George examined a scrape on her arm. “Whew! That was close. We could have been killed.”
Nancy gazed into the distance, where the side of the ravine was much steeper. “If this little accident had happened farther along the road,” she said, “we wouldn’t have had a chance.”
“It’s lucky we didn’t hit a tree, too,” George said, stepping out of the car.
“Someone is definitely trying to keep us off this case,” Nancy said, inspecting a dent on the car’s radiator grill.
It wasn’t long before they heard the sound of approaching police sirens. A few minutes later two local policemen came down the ravine, followed by two paramedics.
“We’re over here,” Nancy called.
“Is anyone hurt?” an officer called back.
“Just a few scratches and bruises,” Nancy replied. “But we’re sure glad to see you.” She quickly related the details of the accident to the police.
As a paramedic administered first aid to George’s scraped arm, an officer walked around to the front of Nancy’s Mustang. “You girls got off lightly,” he said.
The other officer shook his head. “If it hadn’t been for this thicket of bushes, I figure it could have been much worse.” Suddenly his hand-held radio squawked a message, and he unhooked it from his belt. “Yes, we’re sending the ambulance back,” he said into the radio. “No one’s seriously hurt. But we need a tow truck here to get the car out of the ravine.”
The girls followed the rescue team back up the ravine. “You sure got here fast,” Nancy remarked to the officers. “We could have been stuck down here for hours.”
“Yeah,” the officer replied. “You were lucky the lady driving behind you had a car phone. She called nine-one-one and reported the accident.”
“Did she get a license plate number of the van that hit us?” Nancy asked.
“She’s giving one of our men a statement now,” the officer said.
“There she is,” a paramedic said. He pointed to a blond woman who was standing on the roadside, talking to a policeman. “She’s the person you have to thank.”
Nancy grabbed George by the arm. “Hey, that looks like Margaret Parker!” she exclaimed, stopping suddenly. “She must have been driving the tan car that was following us.”
“That’s weird,” George said.
“Very weird,” Nancy agreed as they continued up the ravine. “I want to talk to her. And not just to say thanks for making a phone call.”
Nancy saw the policeman hand Margaret a clipboard, and she reluctantly scribbled something on it.
Nearing the top of the ravine, Nancy called, “Margaret!”
The blond woman turned on her heels and hurried toward her car. Nancy struggled up the steep incline, but by the time she reached the road, the tan car was already pulling out.
“I guess Margaret didn’t want to answer any questions,” George said, catching up to Nancy.
“Like why she was following us, for starters,” Nancy replied grimly.
“Hey!” George said, snapping her fingers. “I’ve seen that tan car before.”
“There are lots of tan cars around,” Nancy said.
“But not one with a sticker that says Visualize World Peace,” George pointed out. “That was the same tan car I saw leaving the museum on the day of the robbery.”
“You’re sure about that?” Nancy asked.
