In the next instant she ducked behind the trunk of an olive tree, pulling Mick along with her. She winced as bark scraped against her bare arm, but she had to stay hidden.
“What’s going on?” Mick asked, looking at Nancy as if she had lost her mind.
“The man from the cave is driving that moped,” Nancy said breathlessly. “But I think we ducked out of sight before he saw us.”
Hearing the sound of the motor fade, Nancy dared a look. The moped was just disappearing down the hillside in the direction of town. “I’d love to know where he’s off to in such a hurry,” she said, rubbing the chafed skin on her arm.
“Are you okay?” Bess asked, rushing over with Zoe. “What’s going on?”
Nancy told them about the driver of the silver moped. She felt so helpless. How could she let those guys just ride on by?
“What about the man on the back?” Zoe asked.
“I don’t know who he is,” Nancy said, “but I can’t stand to stay here when they might lead us to some answers. What if they’re on their way to pick up the passports from Dimitri?”
Mick was already striding to their moped. “It’s a long shot,” he said, “but it’s worth checking out.”
“Don’t be crazy!” Zoe protested, grabbing Nancy by the hand. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I don’t think he recognized us,” Nancy said. “But just to be safe, we’d better take off our hats—they’re the same ones we had on at Dragonisi.” She tossed her orange hat to Bess, while Mick gave his to Zoe. Then Nancy hopped onto the moped and slid her arms around Mick’s waist.
“Don’t worry,” Mick said. “We’ll stay out of sight. We’re just going to observe.” Before Zoe and Bess could say another word, he revved the moped’s engine and steered onto the road.
“We’ll meet you at the taverna!” Bess called after them. “And be careful!”
Nancy held on tight as Mick maneuvered the moped around a series of snaking curves. With these treacherous roads, she was afraid that they would never catch up with the two men. Then the moped’s engine whirred as they reached a straight stretch of road, and Mick shifted into high gear.
Nancy’s heart raced as she spotted the silver moped ahead on the road. “There they are!” she shouted.
“Let’s drop back,” Mick said, shifting into low gear to slow their bike.
To Nancy’s relief, the men never glanced back. “I don’t think they’re even aware of us,” she told Mick.
It was an easy drive over the open road, but Nancy’s nerves were tense with anticipation. What if the two men met with Dimitri—or Theo? If she and Mick interfered, the results could be deadly.
Once they reached the outskirts of town, the chase became complicated by the narrow, zigzagging streets scattered with people, carts, and animals.
“We’re losing them,” Nancy said, wincing as a young girl with a basket darted in front of their bike, forcing Mick to veer away.
Mick drove with caution, but it cost them. “I can’t keep up with them in these congested streets.” He rolled to a stop as a pair of burros hauled a wagon into the center of the street, blocking the way.
Disappointed, Nancy pushed her hair out of her eyes and frowned. “Oh, well. Better safe than sorry.”
At last the donkeys moved on, and Mick steered the moped onto a wider street. They were back at Naxos’s main square now, Nancy realized, near the ferry terminal. The square was filled with tourists and merchants rushing to do business before the afternoon siesta. It was like a crazed obstacle course.
“Let’s get away from this traffic,” Mick said, taking a sharp turn down a narrow alley.
Neither he nor Nancy saw the silver moped careening toward them until the last second. “Look out!” Nancy screamed, bracing herself for the impact.
Mick managed to steer away from the silver moped, but the motion sent their bike skidding to the side. It nearly slid out from under them as the silver moped zoomed off.
A cloud of dust rose around them as Nancy and Mick struggled to regain their balance and finally wobbled to a stop. “You okay?” Mick asked, turning back toward Nancy.
“Fine,” she said. But a moment later her nerves twanged as she looked up into the eyes of the man with the scar. The silver moped had circled back, Nancy saw, and it was just a few yards away. The man with the scar was standing next to the bike, staring at Nancy and Mick. Nancy caught a quick glimpse of the man on the bike. He was thin, with dark hair and a full beard.
Oh, no! Nancy thought. The man with the scar had recognized them from Dragonisi!
“What now?” Mick muttered through clenched teeth.
Before Nancy could answer, the man hopped back on the moped and revved the engine. The silver bike sped away into the square.
“Come on,” Nancy said, getting off the bike and following on foot. She had gone only a few steps when the bike disappeared around a corner. With all of the activity in the square, there was no way she and Mick could follow them now.
Nancy let out a frustrated sigh. Not only had the crooks lost her and Mick before they could find out where they were going, but two very dangerous people knew who she and Mick were. “This case is definitely heating up,” Nancy said under her breath. “I just hope we don’t get burned!”
Lunch was a loud affair. The taverna Zoe had suggested was filled with a spirited crowd of students and tourists. Nancy tried a dish of lamb and vegetables wrapped in crispy pastry leaves called filo. While everyone ate, she and Mick filled them in on the commotion in the market square.
“Sounds like we missed a pretty dramatic scene,” Kevin commented.
“It really got out of hand.” Mick shook his head, looking miserable. “I can’t believe we blew our cover and let those guys slip away.”
“It’s not your fault,” Nancy said, touching Mick’s hand. Then she turned to George. “How did it go with Dimitri?” She still needed evidence to connect him to the people with the explosives.
“Did you see him talk to a woman with red hair—”
“Or two guys—one bearded, one scar-faced?” Mick added hopefully.
Unfortunately, George and Kevin had nothing to report. From what they’d seen, it looked as if Dimitri had come to Naxos to make some money photographing tourists—nothing more.
Later that afternoon, when Nancy spotted Dimitri on the hydrofoil headed back to Mykonos, she decided to confront him. She doubted that he would actually confess to forgery, but with a little pressure he might let some useful information slip out.
She found him waiting in line at the hydrofoil’s snack bar. “I have a confession to make,” she told him. “Remember how I wanted to see your studio?”
Dimitri’s dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Yes . . .?”
“Well, I just couldn’t resist.” Nancy hesitated as color rose in Dimitri’s face. “One day when you were out, I sneaked in and checked out the equipment.”
The photographer slammed his hand on the snack bar counter. “That was a stupid thing to do! You could have been hurt.”
“Of course, I didn’t touch anything,” Nancy lied, surprised that Dimitri was so upset.
“That’s not the point,” he said. He motioned Nancy to a corner by the snack bar so that no one could overhear their conversation. “You must stay away from the studio,” he said emphatically. “The truth is, it doesn’t really belong to me. My friend lets me use it.”
Nancy shot him a dubious look. “And all the fancy equipment,” she persisted. “Does that belong to your friend, too?”
Dimitri nodded. “My friend—Spiros. He owns the stationery shop right below the studio.”
All at once, Nancy felt her investigation shifting. Spiros? Was Dimitri lying to her? She couldn’t be sure. He was obviously upset, but that would be natural if he had just learned that she was closing in on his forging operation.