“We close at six o’clock,” Jupiter heard Max say.

“You don’t get back, you don’t park till tomorrow.”

“I won’t need to park until tomorrow,” Ty’s voice said. “You have a phone I can use?”

“Over there on the wall.”

“You want to show me?”

“You want a lot for a lousy hundred bucks.” The distraction gave Jupiter time to reach the Honda and crawl in. Moments later Ty got behind the wheel. When Ty slowed the car at the front door, Max the gunman leaned in.

“Six o’clock, or wait until tomorrow.”

“How early tomorrow?” Ty said.

“Someone opens seven a.m. It ain’t me.”

Ty laughed at the joke. Max didn’t laugh. It wasn’t a joke. The gunman was proud that he was important enough to not have to come in at seven a.m. Ty drove slowly out of the garage. “You okay, Jupiter?”

“I’m fine. But I didn’t see anything.” The garage doors closed behind them. Ty turned at the corner and pulled to the curb. Jupiter opened the passenger door, slid out and into the front seat. “Did Tiburon come to the car wash?”

“Not until after five.”

At the salvage yard they hurried into the trailer. Pete was counting his pay before putting it into the team’s treasury. Calls to Bob’s office and home failed to locate the elusive third Investigator, so they made their plans without him.

“I think we continue tomorrow exactly as we did today,” Jupiter said. “Pete goes to the car wash, Ty waits for a chance to sabotage Tiburon’s car, and I watch in the garage.”

“Tiburon better show up earlier tomorrow,” Ty said, “or we’re stymied.”

*

Tiburon did show up earlier the next day, but Ty had no chance to sabotage his graffiti-covered low-rider. Jupiter watched all day in the garage and saw nothing. The only good thing was that Tiburon liked Pete’s energy and good humor — and the string tie with its shark head slide that hid Pete’s mini walkie-talkie!

“You’re a okay guy for an Anglo,” Tiburon said. “That’s a kick bolo slide, too. We find a big-bucks job for you, hey?”

Pete said he’d like that, but nothing more happened that day. Time was running out. Spring break would be over in three days.

But the next day Ty finally got his chance. Tiburon and the Piranhas came early and stopped at the Taco Bell. While they were all inside arguing about what to eat and how much, Ty slipped under Tiburon’s low-rider and pulled two hidden wires from the electrical system. He had told Pete what he’d do. Pete would know just what to reconnect.

When Tiburon tried to start his car, nothing happened. As he worked at the car wash, Pete saw them all hovering and arguing around Tiburon’s car. First the car-wash owner went over. Then one of the older employees. Finally, Tiburon yelled from the Taco Bell. “Hey, you, the new Anglo guy, come on over here!”

Pete dried his hands on a rag as he walked to the Taco Bell lot. “Me?”

“You’re a hotshot mechanic, right? So let’s see you get my heap running.”

Pete leaned into the open hood. He looked at the engine, poked at the battery and spark plugs, and made noises. Then he slid under the car, where he knew the loose wires were but where no one else had thought to look.

“Someone hand me a half-inch combination wrench,” Pete said from under the car.

There was a discussion about tools. The car-wash owner went to his office and returned with the proper wrench. Pete didn’t need it, but it made him look much more impressive when he crawled out, saying, “Try it now.”

The car started instantly.

“Hey, you sure know cars.” Tiburon looked at Pete thoughtfully. “I’m gonna talk to some people could maybe use you. The pay’s real, real good. I mean, real good. Comprendes?”

Tiburon was saying that the job was illegal, and asking Pete if he understood. Pete nodded.

*

Jupiter was dozing in the Honda when he heard Ty’s voice somewhere near the garage door.

“Just came to get something out of my car.”

“Don’t make it a habit. We don’t like people coming here all day,” Max’s voice said.

Jupiter sank down out of sight.

“What’s up?” Jupiter whispered.

Ty leaned in as if searching the car. “The trick worked! Tiburon told Pete someone’d come for him at the car wash and take him to a garage.”

“When?”

“Today sometime. If this is where the chop-shop is, they have to come past you.”

After Ty had gone, Jupiter settled down to watch again. He was excited now. In the Honda, he was in a perfect position to see where they took Pete. Then he’d know where the chop-shop was hidden.

An hour passed. Then two. Five o’clock came and went. At six, Jupiter heard Max lock the big double doors. Pete had not appeared. No one had. What if they’d been wrong all along, and the chop-shop was somewhere else?

Jupiter’s walkie-talkie suddenly gave a tiny beep. Jupe flicked it on. Ty’s voice was low but urgent. “Jupe! We’ve got trouble! Bad trouble!”

“I’m locked in,” Jupiter said into his walkie-talkie.

Ty’s voice said, “Sneak out. Try the small door.”

Jupiter tiptoed silently through the dimly lit garage to the door. The big doors were padlocked, but the small door just had a deadbolt. Twisting the knob on the lock, Jupe slipped out and saw the pickup at the corner.

“Get in,” Ty said urgently.

“What is it?”

Ty was grim. “About fifteen minutes ago Bob drove like a maniac into the salvage yard with Pete’s girlfriend, that Kelly Madigan. She said Pete told her what he was doing at the car wash and all about Tiburon and the stolen cars.”

Jupiter groaned. “Pete tells her everything.”

“Maybe it’s good he does,” Ty said. “Kelly just found out that another cheerleader, Tina Wallace, is El Tiburon’s brand-new girlfriend! She’s going around with him all the time — and she knows Pete, and who he is, and all about The Three Investigators!”

Jupiter was stunned. “If she spots Pete — ”

“She could tell Tiburon all about him.”

“And she could spot him anytime,” Jupiter said.

“Kelly says Tina’s a good kid and that she probably doesn’t know anything about stolen cars. But there’s no way of knowing when she might just stumble over Pete and say something.”

They reached the salvage yard and the HQ trailer, where Bob and Kelly Madigan were waiting. The feisty, dark-haired cheerleader jumped up.

“Did you find him?” she demanded. “Did you get him away from there?”

“We don’t even know where he is,” Jupiter said. “You’re sure he’s left the car wash, Ty?”

“Tiburon came back and talked to him. Pete gave me thumbs up and drove off in the Fiero with Tiburon.”

“Then,” Bob said, “we’ve got to find him.”

“But how?” Kelly asked, looking at each of them.

Bob and Ty looked at Jupiter. Kelly sat down, almost in tears.

“Jupiter?” she said. “Please?”

Jupiter stared at the wall as if he could see through it. He began to pinch his lower lip with his forefinger and thumb, a sure sign that he was deep in thought. “We must assume Pete was being taken to work in the chop-shop. Therefore our problem is still the same — to locate the chop-shop.” Now he looked around at them.

“Not just if it’s in that garage, but exactly where. In fact, we have to get inside it ourselves.”

“Wait,” Ty said. “We figure Pete’s inside. And we figure the shop is in that garage. Can’t we just contact him and he’ll tell us where he is?”

“Yes!” Kelly cried, bouncing up again.

“No,” Bob said. “We don’t know for sure the shop’s in that garage. And we can’t risk contacting him on the walkie-talkies. We don’t know who could be near him and hear.”

“Bob’s right,” Jupiter said. “I think I have a plan, but it depends on Tiburon and the Piranhas being out of town tonight. Bob, can you find out — ”

“They are!” Bob cut in, triumphant. “I can’t believe our luck! I looked them up just out of curiosity. They’re playing at a multiband outdoor gig up in Malibu.”