Hot Tracks by Carolyn Keene Page B

was glad she’d decided to put her hair back in a French braid. Peeking into the side mirror, she brushed back a few wayward strands.
    â€œOh no. Here comes Dirk, and my hair’s still a wreck,” Bess moaned.
    Nancy turned and saw Dirk striding across the grass toward them. He was wearing faded jeans, a light blue T-shirt, and a baseball cap. A tall guy was walking next to him, and Nancy recognized him as Kitty Lambert’s date from the night of the stakeout. He was a little heavier than Dirk, but they both had the same sun-streaked hair and green eyes.
    â€œYou look great.” Nancy quickly reassured Bess as they got out of the car.
    Bess smoothed out the pale yellow stretch pants and oversize yellow-and white-striped T-shirt she was wearing. “You think so?”
    â€œHey, you made it,” Dirk said, giving Bess a hug.
    â€œI wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Bess said.
    The other guy stepped over to Nancy. “Hi. I’m Jake Walters, Dirk’s older, bigger, and smarter brother,” he said. Taking her hand, he gave it a warm squeeze.
    â€œI’m Nancy,” she said.
    â€œAnd I’m Bess.”
    â€œGlad to meet you, Nancy and Bess,” Jake said, flashing Nancy a brilliant smile.
    What a flirt, Nancy thought. It made her wonder how serious Jake and Kitty Lambert were.
    Around them, people were leaning over the chain-link fence or sitting on the nearby grass. A small concession stand stood opposite the starting line. Some buildings that were probably maintenance sheds or garages dotted thesurrounding area. The entire perimeter was bordered by cornfields.
    Nancy glanced idly around. The track was informal and crowded. It would probably be easy for anyone to come in and sell hot auto parts without attracting attention.
    â€œSo where’s the oval track?” Bess asked curiously as the four of them started across the parking lot.
    â€œThere isn’t one. There’s only a straight, quarter-mile track,” Dirk explained. He pointed to a short stretch of road lined with a chain-link fence. “In drag racing, two cars speed down a straight track as fast as they can. The car with the fastest time wins.”
    Bess paused, confusion on her face. “I thought there’d be—”
    A deafening roar drowned out her words. Nancy clapped her hands to her ears as two cars tore down the track, their rear ends jacked up and their huge back tires spinning. When they reached the finish line, parachutes burst from the back to slow them.
    â€œThose are Funny Cars,” Dirk explained when the noise died down. “Race cars that have been radically modified. Those babies can go over two hundred miles an hour.”
    â€œIf you ask me, they should be called Noisy Cars,” Bess said, laughing. “Is that what you race?”
    Dirk shook his head. “Nope. I race stock cars. They’re regular cars that are finely tunedfor the best performance possible. They’re still pretty noisy, though.”
    They passed the concession stand, then crossed the end of the track, where two more Funny Cars were being checked over for the next race. Just beyond was a fenced-off field crowded with trucks, cars, vans, trailers, and people.
    â€œThat’s the pit area,” Jake explained. A man in greasy overalls stood at the entrance to the field. Seeing Dirk and Jake, he waved the foursome in.
    The brothers led Nancy and Bess to a neon green Firebird. Big D’s Dynomite was written across the side in bright orange scroll letters.
    â€œThis is it,” Dirk announced proudly.
    Bess patted the hood. “She’s a beauty!”
    â€œLittle brother had his test drive a while ago,” Jake spoke up. “The Big D ran great. He should kill the competition.”
    Dirk shrugged, but his excited smile told Nancy that he felt pretty confident, too. “My race isn’t until the end of the day, so we’ll have some time