The perfect escape, p.1
The Perfect Escape, page 1
The Perfect Escape
This time, I may be in way over my head. What started out as a simple undercover mission at a beauty pageant in New York City has turned into complete chaos! The pageant’s sponsor, Pretty Face Cosmetics, knows that I’ve uncovered a big secret about their product, and now I’m in serious trouble. They want to keep me quiet—no matter what it takes.
Now I’m being held hostage by two supercreepy bad guys, without a phone, and worse, without my friends! I know that Bess and George are doing everything they can to find me, but time is running out. I have to figure out a way to get back to that pageant so I can reveal Pretty Face’s secret . . . before it’s too late for the next Miss Pretty Face, and millions of other girls!
Catch my next case, book one in the identity Mystery Trilogy:
SECRET IDENTITY
ALADDIN PAPERBACKS
Simon & Schuster, New York Cover designed by Sammy Yuen Character photograph copyright © 2008 by Michael Frost; background photograph copyright © 2008 by PictureQuest • Ages 8–12 Kids.SimonandSchuster.com •
End Call
“Nancy, I’m—” Bloop!
George’s voice was going in and out now. I screamed into the phone, not caring who heard me now; just hoping George would. “George! There are invoices for lab equipment! I think we’re in a research facility! George!”
“I hear you Nancy. We’re com—” Bloop!
“Aaauuugh!” I screamed as a hand suddenly reached out from behind me, grabbed the phone out of my hand, and pressed the End button. Trembling violently I turned around. Anna faced me, her skin pale, her hair wild around her face. She was fully conscious.
“What have you done?” she demanded.
#1 Without a Trace
#2 A Race Against Time
#3 False Notes
#4 High Risk
#5 Lights, Camera . . .
#6 Action!
#7 The Stolen Relic
#8 The Scarlet Macaw Scandal
#9 Secret of the Spa
#10 Uncivil Acts
#11 Riverboat Ruse
#12 Stop the Clock
#13 Trade Wind Danger
#14 Bad Times, Big Crimes
#15 Framed
#16 Dangerous Plays
#17 En Garde
#18 Pit of Vipers
#19 The Orchid Thief
#20 Getting Burned
#21 Close Encounters
#22 Dressed to Steal
#23 Troubled Waters
#24 Murder on the Set
#25 Trails of Treachery
#26 Fishing for Clues
#27 Intruder
#28 Mardi Gras Masquerade
#29 The Stolen Bones
#30 Pageant Perfect Crime
#31 Perfect Cover
#32 The Perfect Escape
Available from Aladdin Paperbacks
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ALADDIN PAPERBACKS
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
Copyright © 2008 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
NANCY DREW, NANCY DREW: GIRL DETECTIVE, ALADDIN PAPERBACKS, and related logo are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
First Aladdin Paperbacks edition October 2008
Library of Congress Control Number 2008920581
ISBN-13: 978-1-4169-5531-3
ISBN-10: 1-4169-5531-3
ISBN-13: 978-1-4424-6550-3 (eBook)
Chapter 1: Dead Battery
Chapter 2: Alarmed
Chapter 3: Caught on Camera
Chapter 4: Cab Chase
Chapter 5: Train Tracks
Chapter 6: Password Puzzle
Chapter 7: A Man Without a Plan
Chapter 8: Hotel Hostages
Chapter 9: Fire Escape
Chapter 10: Key Witness
Chapter 11: And the Winner Is . . .
Chapter 12: Perfect Conclusion
DEAD BATTERY
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
I awoke in darkness. Gulping in a breath of air, I tried not to panic. Where was I? Why was I lying on the floor in a strange, dark room? I tried to pull my hands in front of me—Why were my hands tied? My pulse raced as adrenalin shot through my system, and I struggled to sit up. Then it all came back to me.
The pageant.
Pretty Face cosmetics.
Kyle McMahon and Adam Bedrossian.
Weeks before, I had entered a regional beauty pageant to investigate a case I was working. To my shock, I had won the pageant—but not before figuring out that the sponsor, Pretty Face cosmetics, had something to hide. A few days ago, Bess, George and I had flown to New York City for the national pageant. While there, I had met a local Pretty Face employee, Anna Chavez—a scientist. It was Anna who led me to find out Pretty Face was marketing a product that contained an untested substance that might lead to paralysis.
Before Anna and I had time to talk about anything, she had mysteriously gone missing. When I went looking for Anna at Pretty Face’s headquarters, I had walked into a trap. It was obviously because I knew too much, and Kyle McMahon and Adam Bedrossian, a Pretty Face bigwig and head of security, respectively, wanted to keep me quiet.
They had taken Anna, and then me, captive and loaded us into a helicopter. That was the last thing I remembered: rising up over the gorgeous skyline of Manhattan, wondering what on Earth these two men were going to do with us. They must have used something to knock us out—chloroform, maybe?—so we wouldn’t see where we were headed.
And now here I was.
“Hello?” I called, and my voice came out husky from disuse. No one answered. There wasn’t even a sound. Except . . .
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Suddenly I realized . . . that quiet, electronic beeping. It had been going on for a while now, and was probably what woke me up in the first place. But where was it coming from?
Was Anna here with me? Or had Kyle and Adam separated us?
She hadn’t answered when I called out, but maybe she was still unconscious.
Either way I wasn’t going to be able to find her by lying on the floor. I sat up, struggling with my bonds. My hands and feet were both bound with what felt like duct tape. I wiggled and squirmed and finally managed to loosen the tape around my ankles, but it wasn’t coming off completely. I needed something sharp to snag it on. I very carefully got my balance and pulled myself to my feet. I hopped around clumsily, making my way forward. Eventually I hit something that felt like a wall.
Now that my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, I could see that a tiny shaft of light was coming in through a corner of a blacked-out window. If I really concentrated, I could make out the vague shapes of furniture. There was a wire storage shelf along the wall, like something you’d find in someone’s garage, just a few feet away from me. The ends of the wires were sharp-looking. I hopped over, then pressed the bond on my wrists against the exposed edges, over and over again.
First I poked a small hole in the tape, and finally, with a lot of effort, cut through the tape completely. With a sigh of relief, I pulled my hand loose—away from the sticky duct tape. With a painful rip, I yanked my hand completely free of the tape. Then I carefully bent down, found the end of the tape around my feet, and ripped off those bonds as well.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
It was too quiet to be an alarm. But what could it be? What kind of electronic device might have been left in this room?
“Anna?” I called, but there was still no reply. And even with the tiny shaft of light from the window, it was still too dark to make out anything except the one wall of the mystery prison. I moved toward the beep slowly, quietly as I could, feeling my way along the wall. It was cold and rough, possibly a concrete block, like a school building or a basement. I walked a few feet and, as I moved forward, the beeping got louder. . . .
“Oof!” Just as I felt I was getting close, my foot hit something soft and warm. It startled me so much, I jumped about a foot in the air and almost went flying over it. My recent pageant win notwithstanding, nobody would ever accuse me of being graceful. I knelt down and felt around for whatever I’d hit.
It moved immediately beneath my fingertips. It was a knee! I squinted hard at the shape and relief washed over me at the sight.
“Anna!” I cried. “Anna, are you all right? Wake up!”
I took Anna by the shoulders and shook her, but she didn’t respond. Bending close to her mouth, I could feel and hear that she was breathing at a normal pace. She still seemed to be unconscious, though. Moving her knee must have been an unconscious reflex.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The noise was louder still, as though it were coming from Anna herself. Could Anna have smuggled something in? Something electronic that might help us make contact with the outside world? Listening carefully, I tried to follow the sound. It was coming from her pants pocket . . . No . . . Her knee? . . . No . . . I leaned down farther.
It was coming from her foot.
“What is going on?” I muttered, gamely leaning over an d pulling off Anna’s left sneaker. I shook the shoe: nothing. The beep was definitely coming from her foot. Am I dealing with the bionic woman here? I reached over, felt that Anna was still wearing a sock, and pulled that off. Just then, something square-shape and shiny dropped to the floor.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
I picked up the source of the beeping, brushing one of its tiny buttons by accident.
A large, square screen illuminated.
HI ANNA! SATURDAY, 2:37P.M. EST. YOU HAVE 2 MISSED CALLS. DETECTING WI-FI CONNECTION. MORE INFO?
It was a phone!
Actually, it was more than a phone. It was a full-service PDA—Internet access and all. I wasn’t too familiar with the newfangled things, but my friend George had gotten one recently and given Bess and I a lecture on how powerful it was and how it meant she could “connect to anyone, anything, any Web site, any source of information at any time!”
I felt my heart quicken. The Internet, plus a phone! We were saved! Thank goodness for Anna’s quick thinking—and her thick, baggy socks!
I pressed the button that promised more info. A window popped up:
NONE OF YOUR TRUSTED WI-FI NETWORKS ARE AVAILABLE. WOULD YOU LIKE TO CONNECT TO THE OPEN NETWORK HYUNGKOO43?
Hyungkoo43. Save me, Hyungkoo43, you’re my only hope! “Yes, yes, yes!” I whispered, pressing the button for OK. Immediately an Internet window popped up, leading me to a popular search engine. I was connected! And I had a phone!
I started dialing George’s number before the search engine page was fully loaded. As her phone rang, I looked around and peered at what I could see of the room, realizing that I had one problem.
Sure, I had access to any friend whose phone number I had memorized and any piece of information that was available on the Web. What I didn’t have was any idea as to my whereabouts. I could beg George to come save us, but I couldn’t give her the faintest clue as to where to find us.
I took a quick look around the room, or, at least, what I could see of it. It looked like some kind of storage room. There were a few utility shelves, like the one I’d cut the tape on, but there wasn’t much furniture; just some boxes and random office equipment. Based on the position of the blacked-out window—it was way at the top of the wall—I guessed we were probably in a basement somewhere.
Ring. Ring. Ring. My heart quickened. Come on, George, I thought. Pick up! Anna’s number wouldn’t be programmed into George’s phone, so she’d think a total stranger was calling her, possibly a wrong number. Would she let the phone go to voice mail? Did she even know I was missing yet? I had no idea how long I’d been out for.
“Hello?”
A rush of relief flooded through me at the sound of George’s familiar but slightly hesitant voice.
“George!” I cried. “It’s me!”
“Nancy?” George sounded confused. “Where are you? And whose phone are you calling from?”
“Anna’s,” I said quickly. “Listen, George, you have to help me. Where are you?”
“Bess and I are back at the hotel,” George said, panic evident in her voice. “Nancy, you’re scaring me—Tell me where you are!”
“It’s all gone wrong,” I admitted. “I found Anna, she was being held by Kyle and Adam at the Pretty Face offices downtown. But the two of them were there too. It was a setup!”
“Oh my god,” George said breathlessly. “Are they there now? Nancy, are you safe?”
“No, I don’t see them. I don’t know if I’m safe, maybe—” I was about to continue, but the phone let out an ear-curdling bloop.
“What’s that?” I asked, sure that George would speak the language of any electronic device.
“Nancy? Are you there?”
I started to panic. “George?!” Was I losing her?
“Nancy, your phone is beeping. It sounds like Anna’s phone is dying. Just quickly tell me: Where are you?”
I felt my heart sink. “I don’t know,” I replied, trying to stay calm. “They gave us something to knock us out and took us in a helicopter. We’re in a basement storage room of some kind.”
Bloop. Anna’s phone let out another depressing sound.
George was quiet for a minute. I could tell she was beginning to feel as afraid for me as I felt for myself. “Nancy,” she replied. “Think. Do you remember anything about where you were headed in the helicopter?”
My heart was pounding. I tried to take a deep breath to slow it. “I don’t know New York City very well,” I replied, “but I think we were heading north—up the East River.”
George was silent. That only left the entire state of New York, plus Connecticut. I could tell she was despairing of ever finding us. And honestly, so was I.
Bloop.
“Listen carefully,” George said. “Do you hear anything from outside? City noises? Animals? Anything?”
I fell silent. For a second I couldn’t hear anything but my own pounding heart. But then I could hear cars passing, the slamming of a car door. A siren, somewhere far in the distance. It was the sound of the city. . . . Something I had almost grown immune to in the short time I’d been in New York.
“I hear city noise,” I replied. “I think we’re right on the street. And . . .” I paused. I heard something else, but I couldn’t believe it. It made no sense with the cars passing and the noise of traffic . . .
“What is it?” George asked. “Hurry, Nance, if your phone’s dying, we don’t have much time.”
Bawk. Bawk, bawk, bawk. “Chickens,” I said, disbelief still lingering in my voice. “I know it’s crazy, George, but I hear them clear as day. Live chickens.”
Bloop.
Silence for a moment. I could tell George was as thrown for a loop as I was. “Is there anything else?”
Suddenly I remembered. “One thing. Hold on.” I held the phone away from my ear to double-check the screen. “Okay,” I said, putting the phone back into position. “I’m picking up a Wi-Fi signal on Anna’s PDA. The name of the network is Hyungkoo43.” I spelled it.
“Hyungkoo43,” George repeated, and I could hear her writing it down. “Anything else? Any papers in the room, identifying objects?”
Papers. I hastily got to my feet and felt my way back to the wire shelving. There was a box of files there. I quickly opened the top and grabbed as many folders as I could. Throwing them down on the floor, I pawed through the pages, but it was too dark to read what they said. Quickly, I pulled the phone away from my ear and shone the light from the screen onto the papers.
Bloop.
“Nancy! Nancy!” I could hear George yelling even with the phone down by my knees. I brought it back against my ear.
“Yes?”
“Nancy, I’m—” Bloop.
George’s voice was unclear behind the blooping noise. I screamed into the phone, not caring who heard me now; just hoping George would. “George! There are invoices for lab equipment! I think we’re in a research facility! George!”
“I hear you, Nancy. We’re com—” Bloop!
“Aaauuugh!” I screamed as a hand suddenly reached out from behind me, grabbed the phone out of my hand, and pressed the End button. Trembling violently I turned around. Anna faced me, her skin pale, her hair wild around her face. She was fully conscious.
“What have you done?” she demanded.
ALARMED
Anna stared at the phone in her hand, pressing buttons and frowning deeply. “What did you do, Nancy? Who did you call?”
“Anna?” I reached out to touch my new friend’s shoulder, trying to speak in soothing tones. “Are you okay? Do you remember what happened?”
Anna shifted and pushed my hand away. Her expression was dead serious, her eyes wide. “Nancy. Listen to me. Who. Did. You. Call.”
I didn’t understand. Calling George had been our only hope. Why did Anna seem so angry? “I called my friend George. I hoped maybe she could help find us. She’s a whiz with computers, and—”
But Anna was already moaning. “Oh no.” She shook her head and closed her eyes, turning the phone off. “No, no, no . . .”
“What is it?” I asked. What on Earth could be wrong? I thought maybe Anna was wary of strangers, or maybe she thought George would tell the wrong person what had happened. But of course I knew George would be careful and could be trusted with anything. Maybe once I convinced Anna of that, she would calm down.
