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it. “Right here. Jackson took the report,” he said in response to Detective Powderly’s question. He turned to Nancy with penetrating brown eyes. “Are you Ms. Marvin?”
    Nancy pointed at Bess. “No, it was her car.”
    B.D. chuckled as he skimmed the report. “Not for long, I see,” he said. “This must be the shortest ownership on record.”
    Nancy was amazed at his attitude. Hewasn’t being very sympathetic to Bess’s predicament.
    â€œDon’t mind Detective Hawkins’s sense of humor,” the older detective said quickly. “He and I are only on temporary assignment in auto theft. Just since this ring of car thieves has been operating. Usually we work in homicide. Chasing cars seems tame compared to murder.”
    Detective Hawkins smiled apologetically at Bess. “Why don’t you tell us what’s on your mind.”
    Nancy looked up as a small, well-built man strode briskly into the room. He had jet black hair, and his dark eyes seemed to snap at the other two men. Powderly wiped sugar off his mouth, and Hawkins slid off his perch on the desk to stand straight.
    â€œGood morning, Stan, B.D.” With a frown, the newly arrived man plucked the folder from Detective Hawkins’s hands and flipped through it. “Is this Jackson’s report?”
    â€œRight,” Hawkins said. “This is Bess Marvin and Nancy Drew. Ms. Marvin is the owner of the car.”
    The dark-haired man nodded at the girls. “I’m Raul Quinones, the detective in charge of auto theft. Ms. Marvin, why don’t you go over the report with Detective Powderly to see if there’s anything you want to add.”
    Dropping the folder on the desk, he walked past them and into the cubicle with the computer.
    Nancy followed him. “May I speak to you?”
    â€œGo right ahead.” With a nod, Detective Quinones began to leaf through a stack of papers.
    â€œAfter the car was stolen, we drove around town looking for it. We think we spotted it,” Nancy began.
    â€œHmmm,” Raul Quinones muttered. He sat down and turned on his computer.
    Nancy wondered if he was even listening. Frustrated, she put her hands on the desk and leaned over the top of the computer. “We followed the Camaro until it disappeared down a dead-end street. I think the driver drove it right into a warehouse.”
    Raul Quinones raised his head sharply to her. “A warehouse? You’re sure?”
    â€œDetective Quinones, I’m an experienced detective. I would have noticed if there was any other way out.”
    â€œDetective, huh.” Quinones seemed to think about it for a second. Then he got up and peered around the partition into the other cubicle. “Stan, B.D. Get in here,” he ordered. “Ms. Marvin, you’d better join us, too.”
    After everyone had squeezed into Quinones’s office, Nancy and Bess told the detectives in detail about chasing the yellow Camaro. Nancy noticed that Quinones’s face was crimson with anger by the time they finished.
    â€œSo, my own officers couldn’t track these thefts to a warehouse area, but two teenagerscould,” he said in a tight voice. “Maybe I should’ve hired them.” His dark eyes bored into Hawkins, then Powderly.
    â€œAll right. We’ll check it out,” Detective Hawkins grumbled. “But it sounds to me as if that guy led them on a wild-goose chase.”
    â€œI don’t think so,” Nancy said firmly.
    â€œCome on, Hawk, lighten up,” Stan Powderly said, clapping his partner on the shoulder. “These girls just might help us get somewhere.”
    With a deep sigh, Raul Quinones rubbed his temples. “Stan’s right, B.D.,” he said. “At this point we need to check out every lead.”
    â€œYou’re the boss,” Hawkins said, folding his arms over his chest. Nancy could tell he wasn’t convinced.
    Detective