She heard a car door opening. “Head down,” the man barked, and pushed her forward. “On the floor, and no tricks.”

Moving carefully, Nancy wedged herself into the space between the front seat and back seat. Then her captor slammed the door.

The floor felt gritty, and the interior smelled musty and old. Nancy struggled to find a more comfortable position.

“Hope you’re cozy back there,” the man said nastily. “I don’t want damaged goods-yet.”

Nancy’s mouth went dry. Her mind was racing. Who was this guy? Nancy decided he couldn’t be the same person who had given Ann that first tip. Ann said she didn’t know who that man was, so she was not a danger to him. He’d have had no reason to kidnap the reporter. Ann had just believed him when he said he was the same person.

The engine coughed, rattled, then roared to life. Nancy waited until she was sure there was no one else in the car with them. Then she began to rub her temple stealthily against the edge of the back seat, trying to move the blindfold enough to see a little. It seemed like ages before she got a glimpse of the worn rubber mat she was lying on. It wasn’t much, barely better than nothing.

Then she went to work on her bonds. The man had done a sloppy job. One of the knots gave a little, freeing a six-inch length of cord between her wrists.

Suddenly a radio crackled to life, and Nancy froze. After a few seconds, Nancy realized it was a CB. Her captor began talking so softly that she had to strain to hear.

“Lucked out. Granger didn’t show, but guess who did? Drew’s daughter.”

“His daughter! Hey, wait, Wes-”

“No names! The kid’s not deaf.”

“Oh. Yeah. Are you sure taking her is smart?”