Free 095 An Instinct for Trouble by Carolyn Keene Page B

goodbye to Bess, who was dancing in a square with Jack. Her friend gave her a big grin, then Nancy went out to the parking lot. It was quite chilly, and she was glad to see that Ned had put the top up.
    “Feel like looking at the moon from the shore of Yellowstone Lake,” he asked her softly as he started the Jeep.
    On an impulse Nancy leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
    He reached over and squeezed her hand.
    “Will you forgive me for being so pigheaded?”
    “I already have, Ned.”
    They’d just turned onto the parkway that ran beside the lake when Nancy said, “Ned, look. Somebody’s in trouble.”
    Parked on the opposite shoulder was a low-
    slung Italian sports car. The driver was stand-
    ing with a flashlight pointed under the raised hood.
    Ned pulled over and then carefully turned around so he could light up the sports car. He leaned out and called, “Need help?”
    The driver moving toward them was very familiar. They had both seen that face on countless posters and CDs.
    “Is that who I think it is?” Ned said to Nancy.
    Nancy studied the man’s liquid brown eyes and curly, honey-colored hair. “It is. It’s Ran-
    dy Dean!”
    “Hi there!” Randy stopped next to Ned’s door and leaned over to peer into the window.
    “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”
    “You have car trouble?” Ned asked.
    The rock star shrugged. “It looks that way. I went over a big bump a while back and heard a loud thump. Then, about half a mile back, the engine started sputtering. Now it’s stopped.
    Do you know anything about cars?”
    “We both know a little,” Ned replied. “We can take a look if you’d like.”
    “Great.” Randy backed away, and Ned and Nancy got out of the Jeep. He held his hand out to Ned. “I’m Randy Dean.”
    Ned grinned. “Yeah, we figured that out. I’m Ned Nickerson and this is Nancy Drew.”
    “Hi, Nancy.” She was surprised at how personable and open Randy seemed.
    Ned reached for Randy’s flashlight, clicked it on, and peered under the hood. Nancy joined him.
    They poked around under the hood for a few minutes, then Ned said, “I don’t know what’s wrong. Let me see if I can start it.”
    Ned climbed into the driver’s seat, but when he turned the key in the ignition, the engine only coughed and sputtered.
    Nancy leaned inside and looked at the array of gauges on the dashboard. “Did you know you’re out of gas?”
    Randy frowned. “That’s impossible. I filled the tank just an hour ago.”
    Ned got down on the ground and shone the flashlight under the car. “You’ve got a leak in your fuel line,” he reported. “It must have happened when you hit that bump. All your gas has leaked out,” he said, getting up and slapping his palms against his jeans.
    Ned offered to take Randy to the hotel. The rock star transferred his luggage from the tiny trunk of the sports car to the Jeep and climbed into the backseat next to it.
    “I read a magazine article about you the other night,” Nancy said casually. “It men-
    tioned that you collect whistling marmots.”
    “I used to have quite a few of them,” Randy admitted. “They make fun pets. But I don’t collect them anymore.”
    “Why not?” Nancy asked.
    “I realized how wrong it is to take animals out of the wild,” he replied earnestly. “In fact, that’s why I’m here. I’m doing a TV program on the importance of protecting wild animals and their habitats. Would you guys like to come watch us film?”
    “We’d love to,” Nancy promptly replied.
    “Do you think I could bring a friend, too?
    She’s a big fan of yours.”
    Ned pulled into the hotel parking lot.
    “Of course you can,” Randy said. “I’ll write a note to the production crew as soon as I get upstairs. Thanks for everything. I would have had to sit out there all night.”
    “Glad we could help,” Ned replied. He gave Randy a hand carrying his luggage into the lobby while Nancy parked the Jeep.
    The square dance was still going on as