When they reached the Morning Record, Ann directed her to the parking lot behind the office, where a battered old Ford was parked against the rear wall. Nancy pulled up behind it.

Carson Drew unbuckled his seat belt and got out. “I’ll call you in the morning,” he said, helping Ann from the back seat. “We’ll see this thing through together.” He shook her hand, then stood watching as she walked toward her own car.

“Whatever I can do, I’ll do,” Ann answered earnestly. “Thanks, Nancy. Hope to see you again soon.”

The sky was dark by then; the parking lot dimly lit. There were only a half-dozen cars on the lot, and none parked near the reporter’s.

Moving with a long-legged stride to the old Ford, Ann dug into her purse for her key and stuck it into the lock. She seemed to have difficulty getting it to work, so Nancy flipped on her brights, hoping it would help.

The beam brought Ann’s car into sharp focus. Just under the grimy tailpipe of the Ford Nancy noticed a small square box, so shiny and bright that the Mustang’s headlights bounced off it. It was much too clean to have been attached to the car for long. What could it be? Nancy wondered.

“Got it,” Ann called as the key finally turned.

“Ann! No!” Nancy acted without thought for her own safety. She wrenched open her door and hit the asphalt running. Ann stared at her in amazement.

Without breaking stride, Nancy hurled herself forward and tackled Ann around the waist. They landed just a few feet from the car.

Nancy’s timing had been perfect. With a deafening roar, the old Ford exploded in an enormous ball of flame.

Chapter Three

“Nancy, Nan, girl, wake up.”

Nancy opened her eyes to be greeted by a shaft of sunlight across her face. Rolling over to escape it, she groaned. “Ow!”