Free Hotline to Danger by Carolyn Keene Page A

arm. Without letting go of her, the person pushed her forward. She was guided past the boxcar and up to the ladder of an old caboose.
    â€œHey! Joey! I need some help here,” the voice called, and Nancy knew who her captor was—Billie!
    A tall, gangly kid stepped onto the outside platform of the caboose. He grabbed Nancy bythe arm and hauled her up the rungs of the ladder.
    â€œSorry about the rough treatment,” Billie said as she swung up next to Nancy. “But we had to make sure you came by yourself. Kip’s inside.” Billie motioned toward the door of the caboose.
    Arms folded, Joey stood to one side. Nancy poked her head into the caboose. Faint streaks of moonlight filtered through the conductor’s lookout, and she saw half a dozen faces staring at her.
    A lighter flicked on, and a tall guy with hooded gray eyes stepped from the shadows. Thrusting the flame in Nancy’s face, he studied her carefully.
    â€œSo you’re the P.I.,” he commented.
    Nancy shielded her eyes from the dancing light. “Yes. Nancy Drew. And you’re—”
    â€œKip DiFranco.” He flicked the lighter off and held out his hand.
    â€œAnd this is my gang.” Kip waved Nancy farther inside. From what she could make out in the moonlight, everybody was wearing a black leather jacket with the letter N studded onto the front.
    â€œSo, you’re working with the cops,” Kip said. “I’ve read about you in the newspaper. You’ve solved some pretty wild crimes.”
    â€œSome.” Nancy stood very straight, hoping her voice sounded strong.
    Everyone glared suspiciously at her except forKip, who eyed her coolly, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans.
    â€œSo, Ms. Private Investigator, how can we help each other?” he asked.
    â€œI want to catch the person who murdered Paul Remer.”
    Kip nodded. “Me, too. Not that I’m all choked up because he’s dead,” he added, “I just don’t like being accused of something I didn’t do.”
    â€œAnd what proof is there that you’re innocent?”
    â€œI don’t have any. That’s my problem. I crashed early last night. And I was alone in my apartment. And since I supposedly have a motive for the killing, the cops are going to pin this on me no matter what.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, a motive?” Nancy asked.
    Kip’s eyes hardened. “Search her,” he told Billie, without answering Nancy’s question.
    Billie ran expert hands down Nancy’s sides and back. “She’s clean.”
    â€œGood.” Kip nodded. “If we’d found a wire on you, you would’ve been in trouble. But since you’re clean, I’ll tell you the truth. I would have loved to see Paul Remer run out of town. He almost landed me in jail on a burglary charge.”
    Nancy frowned.
    As if in answer to her unasked question, he said, “Yeah. I pulled the job, and because of Remer, the cops caught me. I had an alibi all setup. Friends of mine swore to the police that I was playing pool all night at Ernie’s. Only Paul decided to rat on me. He told the cops I wasn’t playing pool and that he saw me outside the drugstore minutes before it was robbed.”
    â€œWas Paul telling the truth?”
    â€œUh-huh. Luckily, I got off because the clerk at the store couldn’t identify me in the lineup and my friends stuck to their story.” He laughed. “Plus, all we got was some change and aspirin. Big heist, huh. Last I heard, the store dropped the charges.”
    â€œWhat about the fact that several store owners saw you arguing with Paul on Monday night not far from the murder scene?”
    Kip raised one brow. “Okay, so Remer and I argued. I told him if I saw his ugly face around Nighthawk territory again, I’d kick him out myself.” He leaned close to Nancy. “But I didn’t say I’d kill him.”
    â€œThat’s