J.M.J.

Author's note: Thank you for reading! Thank you also to everyone who has left reviews! The next chapter will be up tomorrow. God bless!

July 20 – Thursday

As soon as they had heard the shots, Fenton and Jack knew that something had gone drastically wrong. Fortunately, they had already extinguished the cookstove and neither had lanterns or flashlights on since it hadn't been completely dark by that time, and so whoever had approached the lake hadn't seen them. They had quickly begun approaching the scene, but running footsteps signaled that whoever had fired the shots had disappeared into the trees. Fenton and Jack had seen the bundle lying on the shore, but as they tried to approach it, they had been shot at, so they knew that every move they made would have to be carefully planned.

That was why, even now when it was a little past midnight, they still hadn't managed to get down to the shore. All had been quiet for a long time now, but neither of them wanted to take the chance of assuming that the shooters were gone.

"It's eerie," Jack muttered under his breath as they crouched behind some brush. "They haven't said a word this entire time. What do they want?"

"Whatever they want, I don't think they want it from us," Fenton replied. "They would have let us know by now. They're probably still trying to figure out who we are and what we're doing here."

"Do you think that bundle they left down there at the shore is a body?"

Fenton nodded before he realized that Jack wouldn't be able to see in the pitch darkness. In spite of that, he was glad it was a new moon. Whoever was out there couldn't use them for targets if they couldn't see them. "I think it is," he said in response to Jack's question.

"Then those guys must be part of the Hawaiian bunch."

Fenton's jaw tightened. "I'd say so."

"Do you think Sam ran into those guys?" Jack asked.

"I hope not. But…"

"But what?" Jack prompted him when he didn't continue.

"That first shot they fired," Fenton said. "They weren't aiming at either of us."

He heard Jack let out a long breath. "Okay. What do we do then?"

"We know where that body on the beach is," Fenton said after a moment's deliberation. "We'll keep trying to get down there first. After that…We'll have to get to cover before morning."

He didn't like that that had to be the way they did it, but they didn't know for sure that Sam had even gotten back yet. Beating around in the bushes for a man who may not even be there while there were trained assassins about wouldn't help anyone.

They weren't far from the shore, and now that it had been so long since they had heard anything from the assassins, they made their way a little faster than previously, though they stopped frequently to listen for any sound of pursuit. Finally, they reached the shore and could just make out the outline of the figure lying there.

"Keep down," Fenton warned Jack. "It might not seem like there's any light, but that lake's going to reflect anything that's there. Those assassins might be able to make out a silhouette."

"Right," Jack replied.

They reached the bundle, and Fenton put out a hand to touch it. He didn't expect it to groan.

Jack started. "He's alive."

Fenton could tell that the man was wrapped in a tarp with a gag in his mouth. He groaned in protest at the two men.

"Shh," Fenton warned him. "We'll help you, but you've got to be quiet."

The man became silent and allowed Fenton to remove the gag.

"Who are you?" the man rasped in a whisper.

"No time for introductions now," Fenton whispered. "We've got to be quiet. Can you walk?"

"Maybe, if you untie me."

Fenton took out his knife and slit through the bonds on the man's wrists and ankles. He and Jack rubbed the man's ankles, but he had been tied for so long that they weren't able to restore circulation well enough for him to walk. Finally, Fenton and Jack picked him up between them and carried him up into a more covered position. The man wasn't heavy. In fact, from his weight, his weakness was probably due as much to malnutrition as it was to being bound. The man leaned wearily against a tree while Fenton and Jack planned out their next move.

The situation was bad, Fenton thought. Even if Sam hadn't come back yet, when he did, he would run right into whoever had been doing the shooting. However, Fenton was much more positive than he had indicated to Jack that it was Sam whom the men had been shooting at. It obviously wasn't Fenton or Jack and they weren't shooting at each other, so unless someone else just happened to stumble onto the scene and startle them, it had to be Sam. But then, what had happened to him? Had he been hit? Was he hiding out in the brush? How could they possibly find him in the dark with those assassins about if he needed help?

HBNDHBNDHB

Sam was lying under some bushes, trying to keep from being noticed. The bleeding from his shoulder had nearly stopped by this time, but it still hurt if he moved his arm or shoulder in the slightest. Even when he was perfectly still, he was weak and miserable. It had been purely adrenaline that had gotten him away when he had first been hit. Now the adrenaline was fading and Sam was getting more concerned.

He didn't think he would bleed to death at this point. Infection or picking up some bacteria was more likely at this point, but even that wasn't his most pressing concern. There were still the gunmen to worry about. Sam didn't know whether they had left or hung around, although he got the answer to that question moments later when he heard footsteps in the brush. The footsteps were soon accompanied by low voices, but it took a few moments longer for Sam to be able to make out any words.

"…probably just some locals, wrong place, wrong time," one male voice said.

"Maybe, maybe not," a second man replied. "It doesn't matter much what they are if they help Reese get away."

Sam strained to hear even better after the mention of this name.

"If we could have just killed him before we got here, even if the body got recovered, at least he couldn't talk."

"That would have helped Ermington, but I'm more interested in saving myself. You know as well as I do that this thing is coming down around her ears. She'll throw us under the bus if it helps her. We can't let them get Reese back, dead or alive. Alive, he'll be able to convict everyone. Dead, they'll be able to figure out it was you and me, especially now that we've been seen."

"I don't like this whole thing from beginning to end. Reese almost got away once, and that idiot Weston had to go and panic, thinking it was Drew and the rest of them that had rescued him. Thanks to him, they're not going to need Reese to get a conviction on most of the group."

"They'll need him—or his corpse—to get a conviction on us, and I'm going to make sure they don't get that."

"Okay, but what if they drag the lake now?"

"The environmentalists have that all sewn up for us. They're going to need good evidence that he's down there before they can even start looking."

"And you don't think a bunch of guys testifying that they saw us dump a body there is good enough evidence?"

"We'll just have to make sure they don't get the chance to make that testimony."

HBNDHBNDHB

"Did you find the problem?" Ned asked as he came into the parking lot of the Butte motel where they had stayed. The plan had been to get all the way to Beaver Spring the night before, but when they got to Butte, Jerry had noticed that his car was getting close to overheating. So they had stopped for the remainder of the night, and as soon as it was light, Jerry was checking his SUV for the problem.

"It's the thermostat, like I figured," Jerry grumbled in annoyance. "I'm going to have to get a new one, and who knows how long that will take?"

Ned crossed his arms. "With seven of us, we definitely can't all fit in George's car. If they can't get yours fixed today, maybe we could rent one."

"I guess we don't have any choice," Jerry said. "I checked and there's a tire place near here that opens at six in the morning. Maybe they can replace a thermostat. I think we can get it down there without it overheating."

"I'll see if any of the girls are awake and can give us George's keys," Ned offered.

"It's fine," Jerry said, a little more forcefully than necessary. "You pick me up after they wake up. There's no point in waking them up this early."

"Okay. It's not such a big deal," Ned replied with a defensive edge.

"Maybe not to you," Jerry muttered.

"What do you mean by that?"

"We just drove almost all the way across the country. We're a day later than we should have been, even though we've barely stopped. I haven't gotten much sleep for four nights, and we haven't had decent food most of the way. Now I've got car trouble, so we're stranded in Butte, Montana, unless we spend a bunch of money renting a car for who knows how many days, all so we can maybe, possibly find a clue about who murdered my best friends." Jerry slammed the hood of his car down, not noticing Iola, who had just come out of the motel and had paused in consternation when she heard the hood slam. "So yeah. This morning is kind of the last straw, and I don't need you pretending to be sympathetic."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ned retorted.

"They're not your friends. Besides, you probably don't mind having Frank out of the way of your girlfriend."

For a few seconds, Ned wasn't entirely sure that he had heard correctly. While he was still formulating a response, Iola strode forward from where she had been listening.

"Jerry! That's a horrible thing to say!" she burst out.

"Oh, keep out of this, Iola," Jerry retorted, jumping into the SUV. He turned it on and drove away.

Ned watched him go with his jaw clenched. When Iola tried to say something to him, he didn't pay attention. "You would think by now, people could…" he started to say, but then he stopped himself and glanced at Iola, who was watching him with wide eyes. "Oh, never mind. I'll go look into options for renting a car if we need to do that."

He turned and strode back into the motel.

Iola watched him, biting her lip. Then she ran back up to the room that the girls had shared. It only had two beds and a couch, but the girls had been tired enough that they made do with it. No one else was awake yet, but Iola winging the door open changed that.

"Is something wrong?" Bess asked, peeking out from the covers.

"No," Iola said quickly before correcting herself. "Well, Jerry's car still needs fixed, so he's taking it to a shop." She grabbed Nancy's hand and practically pulled the girl off the couch where she was sleeping. "Come on, Nancy; we've got to go pick him up. Where are your car keys, George?"

"We've got to go pick him up?" Nancy asked sleepily.

"Uh-huh, come on." Iola kept pulling at her arm, only stopping to snatch the car keys up when she noticed them on the dresser.

Fortunately for her, Nancy hadn't bothered to change her clothes before going to sleep. She would have liked a chance to brush her hair, but it wasn't forthcoming. Iola led her down to George's car and then got into the driver's seat.

"So do you need to talk to me or what/s wrong?" Nancy asked as Iola backed out of the parking space.

"Was I that obvious?" Iola replied.

"I'm afraid so," Nancy said. "What's the matter?"

"The boys are the matter." Iola described the argument that she had heard.

Nancy groaned. "Great. We really needed this."

"You don't sound very surprised."

"It's not the first time I've heard this one." Nancy shook her head. "I don't get it. You and Jerry are friends, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"And Callie's friends with him?"

"Yeah. Look, I get it that he's got a double standard here, but we've got to figure out a way to get them to stop fighting. I mean, finding Chet and Joe and the others is more important."

Nancy gave her a questioning look, but she didn't say anything. "You're right. The case is more important. Besides, we're all on edge after that drive. Probably the best thing to do is to leave them alone. If we interfere, we might just make things worse."

It was about then that Iola realized she didn't know where the tire place that Jerry had gone to was, so they had to call him. Iola felt a bit self-conscious as she did so, but then the actual meeting wasn't much better. Jerry, also, had apparently cooled off a bit, and so he was none too pleased to see that it was Iola and Nancy, of all his traveling companions, who had come to pick him up.

"It's not going to be done today," he reported. "I guess we'll have to rent something."

"That's the way it goes," Iola commented.

"Say, Iola, could I talk to you for a second?" Jerry requested.

They stepped out of Nancy's earshot, and she waited while they spoke in low voices, feeling impatient at the delay that all this was causing as well annoyed at Jerry for thinking so little of her and Ned and Frank. She knew that getting angry about the situation would be the least helpful thing she could do, but she couldn't help the heat of anger rising in her.

That anger was forgotten when she turned away from them and accidentally made eye contact with a man who was sitting in the waiting area. "Dave!" she said in surprise.

The man stood up. He was a year or two older than her with dark hair and a handsome face. He was dressed in a Western-style shirt with a vest, jeans, and cowboy boots and hat, all smudged with ample dirt to give evidence that he had already been working outdoors this morning. There was a boy of about sixteen with him, who looked a great deal like him and was dressed in the same way. Nancy didn't recognize him, but she would know Dave Gregory anywhere.

"Nancy Drew?" Dave said. "I never would have expected to run into you here in Butte."

"It's the first time I've ever been here, actually. But what are you doing here? Aren't you still living in Arizona?"

"Well, no," Dave replied. "After you helped me out with that problem I had there, some property near here came up for sale, so I bought it, which it was thanks to you that I could afford it. I never did like Arizona all that much. Too hot for someone born in Montana. Besides, this way I can take care of my brother and sister without having to bring them down there. By the way, this is my brother, Pete."

The younger boy held out his hand, and Nancy shook it. "I'm real glad to meet you, Nancy," Pete said. "Dave's told me a lot about you."

"It's good to meet you, too, Pete," Nancy replied before looking at Dave again. "That's great that you were able to get some property. Looks like you're working hard on it."

"Normally we would be, but this morning…" Dave shook his head. "It might be a good thing you happened to come along, Nancy."

"What do you mean?" Nancy asked with a grin.

"Pete had something strange happen to him last night," Dave explained.

"I was driving home last night," Pete began to explain, "and I came across this guy who looked like he was having car trouble, so I stopped to see if I could do anything for him. He just had a flat tire, but he said he was camping with some buddies and they'd be worried if he went all the way into town because he wouldn't be able to call them where they're staying, so he wanted me to drop him off near their camp. I offered to find a place that could come out and fix his tire, but everything was closed last night. When I told Dave about it, he thought it sounded fishy."

"It doesn't sound very fishy to me," Nancy replied.

"He skipped the fishy parts," Dave said. "First, the guy said that he and his buddies were camping at a lake near here to fish, except there's no fish in that lake."

"See what he means about it being fishy," Pete interjected.

Dave shook his head at him and then turned back to Nancy. "Second, the guy didn't let Pete drive him all the way to his camp. He had him drop him off pretty far away from it. Third, Pete thought he seemed nervous about something. Finally, while Pete was driving away, he thought he heard gunshots."

"Which isn't all that unusual around here," Pete put in. "There was still some light, and there are people out target shooting all the time. It didn't necessarily mean anything."

"The guy also had a jacket on. It's kind of hot for a jacket, but it would have been a handy way to hide a gun," Dave added.

"Everyone from around here carries guns, more or less," Pete said.

"Yeah, but this guy isn't from around here," Dave insisted, adding for Nancy's benefit, "It was a rented car."

"That does sound a little strange," Nancy agreed.

"Well, he didn't try to kill me," Pete replied. "Anyway, I still want to help him get his tire fixed, but Dave wouldn't let me come alone, like I can't take care of myself or something." He gave his brother a teasingly pouting look.

Dave cocked his head and raised his eyebrows to meet Pete's teasing. "Personally, I don't think we should go out there without the police."

"You'd have to have a little more than that to get the police involved," Nancy said. "You didn't happen to get this guy's name, did you?"

"I sure did," Pete said. "His name's Sam Radley, and he gave me fifty dollars to help him out."

Nancy's face instantly became more serious. "Did you say 'Sam Radley'?"

"Do you know him?" Dave asked.

"Yes, I do." Nancy turned to her traveling companions. "Iola, Jerry, come here. It sounds like Mr. Hardy and the others might be in trouble."

HBNDHBNDHB

Now that it was daylight, Fenton was determined to start looking for Sam. He had spotted the assassins moving about earlier, so he knew that they were still here. Undoubtedly, they would take the opportunity daylight afforded them to begin their own search. They would want their would-be victim back. If they found Sam during their search…Fenton would have to make sure he found his friend first.

Jack was skeptical of the idea of Fenton going to search. He wanted to find Sam just as much but splitting up seemed like a big risk. Yet at the same time, they would have to split up to look for Sam, since they man they had rescued was in no condition to sneak around the forested area.

"Thinking about it, we might be better off if we split up," Fenton said, watching all around him as he spoke. "Fewer of us together would be harder for them to spot."

"But if they come on me and this guy…" Jack nodded toward the man, who was asleep. "I won't be able to move him by myself."

"We wouldn't be able to move him together," Fenton replied. "We're just going to have to hope we've got him hidden well enough. That's another reason for me to go look for Sam. If they start getting too close to here, I can decoy them away."

Jack chuckled nervously. "I don't think I care for that plan at all. But you're right. We've got to find Sam. He's got to be in some kind of trouble."

With that agreement reached, Fenton started out. Both he and Jack were armed, but that was little consolation with assassins combing the area for them. Fenton moved carefully, trying to keep from being seen or heard. Moving through the underbrush without making noise was difficult. Even the two assassins were unable to do it, as Fenton spotted them sitting up near the road, cutting off the easiest route of escape. As Fenton went, he tried to plan out an alternate escape route, but he could see that these men had scoped the area out well. From their vantage point, no one would be able to climb up out of the hollow in which the lake was without being seen. They might be out of range, but anyone trying to escape would sooner or later have to return to the road where the men were waiting. Escape was going to be very difficult, but Fenton would figure that out once he found Sam.

He didn't have a lot of hope for succeeding in that task, either. No matter what had happened, Sam would be keeping still and silent. There was a lot of ground to cover, and Fenton couldn't cover it quickly. However, he had only been searching about forty minutes when, by a stroke of luck, he caught sight of a bit of dark blue, standing out against the muted greens and browns around it. Fenton glanced quickly up toward the road. He couldn't see the two gunmen anymore, but provided they hadn't moved, he thought he could reach the patch of blue without being spotted himself. Taking a deep breath and moving with more caution even than he had yet practiced—as if the mere proximity to Sam made it more likely that he would be seen—he started forward. A few minutes later, he had reached the patch of blue.

As he suspected, it was the hem of a denim pant leg. Sam's brown hiking boot had blended into the surroundings better. However, things weren't quite so bad as Fenton had feared, even if they weren't quite as good as he had hoped. Sam was propping himself up on his left elbow, watching Fenton, although dried blood showed where his right shoulder had been wounded.

"Are you all right?" Fenton asked him.

"No, but I think I'll live as long as we get out of here. Where's Jack?"

"He's all right. We got the guy they were trying to kill."

"Is he still alive?"

"Yeah, but he's in rough shape. It looks like they've been holding him prisoner quite some time, and not treating him too well, either."

Sam nodded. "Do you know who he is?"

"No. He started to tell us, but he's been in and out of consciousness since then."

"I overheard those guys talking. It's Reese."

Fenton let out a long breath. "It's a lucky thing we happened to be here."

Sam chuckled. "Lucky for Reese, maybe, and the federal prosecutors, but I'm not so sure it was lucky for us."

"We've got Reese in a good spot, where I don't those guys will find us. Do you think you can get back there if I help you?"

"I think I'll have to." Sam grunted as he tried to sit up. "Could you give me a hand?"

HBNDHBNDHB

"This is where I dropped him off," Pete said as Dave slowed his pick-up. Nancy and Ned had ridden with them, while the rest of the group was following in George's car. Once he had had it confirmed that there was probably some trouble involved, Dave hadn't been too keen to let Pete come along, but Pete had successfully argued that he would have to show them where to go. Dave parked the pick-up, and George pulled in behind him. Then everyone got out of the vehicles. They paused for a moment to listen.

"All's quiet now," Callie commented.

"Yeah, I don't think they would have been out here shooting all night," Pete said.

"Maybe not, but they could still be out there," Dave replied. "You're not going to be the one to go look."

"Aw, come on, Dave," Pete complained. "When am I going to have another chance to be part of something like this?"

"Hopefully never." Dave turned toward the others. "Ned, Jerry, and I'll go take a look and see if there's anyone there. The rest of you better stay here and be ready to go for help if we need it." He took a step nearer Nancy and lowered his voice. "And would you keep an eye on Pete and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid?"

Nancy grinned slightly. "I'll do my best."

As the older boys continued down the road on foot, Pete crossed his arms and watched them in disgruntlement. "You guys are lucky you don't have overprotective big brothers."

A pained expression crossed Iola's face and she looked at the ground.

Callie noticed and she said gently, "You're lucky you have your big brother, Pete."

HBNDHBNDHB

Ned watched in admiration as Dave made his way through the brush ahead of him and Jerry, hardly making a sound. It was a skill that Ned had worked hard to develop himself, but Dave made it look like it came naturally to him. They had already reached where the pick-up was parked and had begun picking their way down toward the lake. After a few yards, Ned whispered for the others to stop.

"What is it?" Jerry asked. "Did you see something?"

"No. You and I are making too much noise. Dave, you'd better go on by yourself."

Dave didn't look too pleased by the suggestion, but he must have agreed with its necessity because he nodded and continued on his silent way. Ned and Jerry hung back, both grateful to be reasonably sure that the other wouldn't say a word. Even so, it was still uncomfortable, standing there in silence. Time seemed to slow to a stop, and Ned could hardly believe it when he checked his watch and saw that only three minutes had passed. It felt like hours.

Finally, Dave reappeared out of the brush. He glanced over his shoulder before giving his report in a whisper. "There are two men not far away. One of them has a rifle with a scope, but the other just has a handgun. They're watching for something pretty intently, but I didn't see anything. I looked around a bit, but I couldn't see where anyone else is hiding down there."

"What do the men look like?" Ned asked.

"They're both in their thirties, white. One has dark hair, the other one kind of light brown."

"That's not Mr. Hardy or Mr. Radley, or Jack Wayne," Jerry said.

"Sounds like there's definitely some trouble," Ned replied. "You said the guys were armed?"

"Yeah. Do you think that's enough to go to the police?" Dave asked. "It's not illegal to carry guns out in the country, not even in California."

"It's suspicious enough that they'll probably be willing to come and investigate," Ned replied. "Someone should stay here to keep an eye on things."

"I'll do it," Jerry offered.

Ned and Dave started making their way back to where the girls and Pete were waiting, but they had only reached the gunmen's pick-up when they heard a shout. They paused and looked at each other, but before either could say a word, they heard a crashing in the brush, like someone was running through it, accompanied by the crack of a rifle. They turned back at a run.

HBNDHBNDHB

Back up where they had parked, the group waiting there heard the noise. Before any of the girls could react, Pete tried to start running toward it. Nancy and George grabbed him and stopped him.

"Hey, let go!" Pete protested. "There's something happening down there! Dave might need help!"

"Exactly," Nancy agreed. "Bess, you and Pete go back into cell reception and call the police. Callie, you and Iola be ready to follow anyone who tries coming out of here, but stay out of sight. George, you and I will go and see if we can find out what's happening."

"Why do I have to go back for the police?" Pete demanded.

"Because you're the most able to give them accurate directions to get here," Nancy told him. "Come on, George."

Reassured that his assignment wasn't simply to get him out of the way, Pete followed Bess to Dave's pick-up without further protest, although he would have rather been able to make sure his brother was safe. The others did as Nancy had asked as well.

Nancy and George rushed down the road, pausing for a moment at the pick-up they found to memorize the license plate. She was just about to continue when Nancy heard someone coming out of the brush.

"Look out!" Nancy shouted when she saw that it was a strange man who was barreling straight toward George.

There wasn't time for George to get out of the way, and so the man ran straight into her, knocking her over. Fortunately, he had no further interest in the two girls. He jumped in the pick-up and drove away.

Nancy helped George to her feet. "Are you okay?"

George dusted off her shirt and jeans. "Yeah. We'd better see what that guy was running from."

HBNDHBNDHB

Just before the commotion had started, Fenton and Sam had still been trying to get back to where Jack and Reese were hidden. Sam had lost more blood than he thought and now that he was moving around, he was much weaker than he had expected. Fenton was helping him as well as he could, but there was only so much he could do while still maintaining silence. They were on a steeper incline than most when a wave of dizziness passed over Sam. He tried to catch himself against a tree, but he missed it, and despite Fenton making a grab for him, he fell with a loud rustle of underbrush.

Instantly, one of the men up on the hill shouted. Fenton looked up to see one of the men standing, already aiming a rifle. There was no point in trying to be quiet any longer. Fenton grabbed Sam and pulled him behind a tree. It wasn't great cover, but it was the best near at hand. There was a gunshot from up on the hill, but it didn't hit either of the detectives. Then Fenton pulled out his handgun and peered around the trunk of the tree. The gunman was no longer in sight. Evidently, he must have realized that his quarry could be armed, too.

HBNDHBNDHB

Jerry had decided to try to creep forward and get a sight of the two men Dave had described, and it was a fortunate thing he did. That put him close enough to see when the gunman stood up to aim his rifle. Jerry followed the line of the rifle sights and saw a flash of movement down below. He didn't stop to think about the danger of what he was doing as he plunged forward and threw the other man down in a tackle. The man's companion jumped in and dealt Jerry a blow to the back of his head with his handgun, stunning Jerry for the moment.

While the gunmen were still regrouping to try to figure out what had happened, Ned and Dave came rushing at them. Both of them made for the one with the rifle at the same time, giving the one with only a handgun an extra second to decide whether to fight or flee. He chose the latter and was out of sight by the time Ned and Dave had subdued his companion.

"Where'd the other one go?" Ned asked, panting and looking around him.

Dave was still struggling to keep the other one down. "I didn't see."

Ned was half-tempted to chase after the fleeing gunman, but he realized the imprudence of it. He turned his attention to checking on Jerry, who was groggily regaining consciousness.

"You'd better just stay still," Ned advised him. "You've got quite the bump on your head."

"Ugh. Tell me about it," Jerry replied with a groan.

"Ned, this guy's rifle flew over there somewhere." Dave nodded toward the left. "You'd better go get it."

It only took Ned a few seconds to find and retrieve the weapon. Dave had his own revolver with him, and so with two weapons they were able to sternly warn their prisoner of the inadvisability of attempting to escape them.

"Mr. Hardy?" Ned called once this was settled.

"Who's out there?" Fenton Hardy's voice replied.

"It's Ned Nickerson. Jerry Gilroy is with me, and another fellow. We caught one of those guys, but the other got away."

HBNDHBNDHB

Callie and Iola heard the pick-up screaming toward them before they saw it, and so they were able to duck out of sight behind the dashboard of George's SUV. Once the pick-up had gone past, though, Callie sat up and turned on the SUV's engine. She started following the other vehicle, which was speeding along the gravel road at a ridiculous pace. Callie gripped the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles turned white in her fright at having to drive so quickly, but she was determined not to let the suspect get away.

"I really hope that guy doesn't start shooting at us," Iola commented as she fastened her seatbelt.

"Uh, yeah," Callie replied, not feeling any gratitude for Iola pointing out this possibility.

The road was a lot bumpier when traveled at this speed than it had seemed when they were coming in, and if Callie had had attention to spare for worrying about anything besides losing the suspect, she would have been concerned that she might damage George's car.

This lasted a mile or two before an obstacle came into view. Dave's pick-up was parked across the road so that the suspect couldn't possibly get around it. He stomped on his brakes and skidded wildly off the road, slamming one of his fenders into a tree. The crash didn't seem to bother the driver, who jumped out, gun in hand. Callie had had a few seconds' more warning and had managed to stop less dramatically, but as soon as she and Iola saw the gun, they ducked again.

Bess and Pete had been a bit more prepared for this. As soon as they had gotten into range to use a cell phone, Bess had suggested they block the road to prevent the suspects from escaping. Pete had been enthusiastic about the plan, and they had both hidden in the trees off to the side of the road, just in case. Dave had had a rifle under the seat of his pick-up, and despite Bess's misgivings, Pete had brought it along.

The suspect fired a shot at the SUV and then made for the pick-up. He couldn't have escaped in it anyway, since Pete had the keys, but before he could even get in, Pete poked the muzzle of the rifle around the tree.

"Okay, buddy, you better drop that gun!" Pete called, trying to sound intimidating.

The man didn't stop, and Pete fired a warning shot at the ground. That brought the man to a halt.

"Drop the gun!" Pete repeated.

The man hesitated only a second before he reluctantly dropped the gun.

"Put your hands on the hood of the pick-up," Bess instructed him as she and Pete cautiously stepped out.

Iola lifted her head above the dashboard of the SUV. "Is it safe?"

"It sure is," Pete replied with a grin. "Just wait till Dave hears about this!"