Identity Theft by Carolyn Keene

Author:Carolyn Keene
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin Paperbacks

MESSAGE RECEIVED

I ducked just in time. The rock whizzed past my head, close enough for me to feel the slight breeze it made.

“Oh!” I cried, staring around wildly.

The sound of running footsteps snapped me out of my shock. Whoever had thrown the rock had been hiding behind my car! I gave chase, squinting against the fading daylight to try to identify exactly who it was I was chasing. But all I could see was a flash of dark fabric as whoever it was rounded a thick stand of trees between the parking lot and the next curve in the road. I put on a burst of speed, but before I could reach the trees I heard the roar of a car engine coming to life. By the time I made it around to get a view of the road, all that was visible was a cloud of dust disappearing around the curve.

I turned and dashed back to my loaner car. I’d left it unlocked with the key in the ignition, so all I had to do was jump in and turn the key.

Click.

Instead of the sound of the engine coming to life, all I heard was a weak clicking sound. I tried again. Nothing. The car was dead!

I groaned, dropping my head against the steering wheel. Obviously, my attacker had made sure I wouldn’t be able to follow. All I could do was listen helplessly to the last fading echoes of the other vehicle making its getaway.

I wish Bess was here, I thought. Even if she couldn’t get this car started quickly enough to go after him, she’d probably be able to ID the getaway car just by listening to it roar away.

Realizing that such thoughts weren’t going to help me now, I turned my focus to what had just happened. Had the rock thrower followed me from the coffee shop and seized the opportunity to attack? I shivered slightly at the thought, suddenly feeling very vulnerable sitting there all alone in a nonfunctional car in the darkening Sunday evening.

I grabbed my cell phone (which the garage guys had returned when they’d brought the loaner car) and dialed Ned’s cell. It went straight to voice mail, so I tried his home number.

“Ned’s not here, Nancy,” Mrs. Nickerson told me. “He and his father got a call about forty-five minutes ago to drive out to Farmingville and cover some big accident over there.”

“Thanks. No message. I’ll call him later.” I bit my lip as I hung up and stared at the phone in my hand. Farmingville was a half-hour drive from River Heights. If Mrs. Nickerson’s time estimation was accurate—and knowing her, it probably was—that meant Ned must have left almost immediately after he’d called Ibrahim. It also meant there was no way he’d been messing around on BetterLife half an hour ago when I’d made those plans with NedNick02. It seemed I’d been tricked!

I should have seen it earlier, I thought, giving myself a mental kick in the behind. First the weird advances, then him not answering the laptop question .

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