Free Danger for Hire by Carolyn Keene Page A

ANCY FELL , a picture of her father flashed into her mind. He’s going to be furious with me, she thought.
    Then her fall was broken against a pair of strong arms, and she slid easily to the ground. It took her a moment to realize that she wasn’t dead.
    â€œI—I can’t believe you were standing here!” she said to Tom. Another few inches and she would have been sliced to ribbons by the scrap metal.
    He was amazingly calm. He said, “It’s a lucky thing I was!”
    â€œThank you. I thought you were up on the scaffolding, too!”
    She wanted to stay right there with his arms around her for a few minutes, but a troubling thought had struck her. “The guy in the wolf mask is still up on the roof.”
    â€œYou’re right,” Tom agreed. “Look, we’d better call the police.”
    She raked back her hair with her fingers. “You don’t want to trap him anymore?”
    â€œNot after what just happened to you.”
    Before they were halfway to her Mustang, they heard an engine roar to life. A second later a low-slung car shot around the corner of the building.
    â€œLook out!” Nancy yelled. Grabbing Tom, she pulled him out of the way. Together they tumbled to the ground.
    The car shot past them and sped through the gate. Its lights were off, including the license plate bulb, so Nancy missed the number. She sprang to her feet, but by the time she had run into the street, the car was turning a distant corner. She saw its lights snap on as it did.
    â€œRats!”
    Tom ran up next to her. “I didn’t get the number, did you?”
    â€œNo!” she said in frustration. “I can’t even say for sure what model it is.”
    â€œMaybe we can catch it?”
    â€œDoubtful,” Nancy predicted.
    Tom shrugged. “At least we got close.”
    Nancy was suddenly angry. Stalking toward her car, she muttered, “Close isn’t good enough, Tom. Not for me.”
    The first thing Nancy did upon arriving home half an hour later was to confirm the whereabouts of her suspects. She phoned Cindy.
    â€œI hope I’m not calling too late,” she said apologetically.
    â€œNo problem, but I don’t have any news,” Cindy reported. “Mr. Masterson has been home since a quarter past six.”
    Nancy thanked her and hung up. Next she dialed the nighttime number at Hayward Security headquarters. Guards were required to phone in every hour to confirm that they were on duty and awake. If they failed to report in, then headquarters dispatched a van to check on them.
    The switchboard operator told Nancy that Adam Reeves had phoned in every hour.
    â€œYou spoke to him personally?” Nancy asked, to be certain.
    â€œSure. Well, sort of. The guards usually don’t say much,” the operator explained. “They give their ID number, say ‘Reporting in,’ and then hang up.”
    â€œWell, thanks a lot for your help.”
    Stanley Loomis was also a suspect, but she was positive that he had not been at the scene. He couldn’t have left his house and driven to the area faster than she and Tom. Also, the Wolfman had been tall and agile. Loomis was short and fat. Still, that didn’t put him completely in the clear. This gang had more than one member, and some of them might work for Loomis.
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    The next morning Nancy drove to Loomis’s main office. Like Tom, Loomis had a fleet of vans, she saw. He had more than Tom did, in fact.
    That meant he employed a lot of guards. Nancy needed to find out more about them. She went to one of the cafeterias in the warehouse district that was popular with workers.
    It was nearly empty. The cashier was reading a paperback. Nancy asked for a pack ofgum. As she paid for it, she said, “Can I ask you a question or two?”
    â€œWhat for?” the cashier asked warily, handing Nancy her change.
    â€œMy name’s Nancy Drew,” Nancy