Joy’s eyes flickered uncertainly. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
“Someone took Nancy’s hat and did some clue searching in the woods near the library,” George explained. “Our whole team was here, but nobody’s seen you for a while. Now you reappear—and so does Nancy’s hat.”
Joy shook herself, and her uneasiness hardened to a look of cool arrogance. “I haven’t broken any rules, and you know it,” she said. “You act like victims. But if you ask me, you’re the ones causing all the trouble around here.” With that, she elbowed past Nancy and headed for the dance floor.
George stared blankly at Nancy and Ned. “Can someone explain what just happened?”
“Joy obviously isn’t going to admit she took my hat,” Nancy said. “I guess she knows we can’t prove for sure it was her. But I still want to tell Mr. Lorenzo.”
“Someone took my team hat,” Nancy told Mr. Lorenzo. “Ten minutes ago we couldn’t find my hat or Joy, but then the hat reappeared in my jacket pocket. Right after Joy turned up again.”
Nancy wasn’t surprised to see the doubt on Mr. Lorenzo’s face. “I know it’s not proof,” she said quickly. “But you have to admit it’s suspicious.”
“I still don’t have enough to disqualify anyone,” he said, picking up his soda from the counter. “But I’ll keep my eyes open.”
“Thanks,” Nancy said. She hesitated a moment, not sure how to phrase her next question. After all, she couldn’t admit that she had sneaked into his office at the store. “About the threat I saw on your computer, are you sure it wasn’t serious? No one is trying to blackmail you?”
Mr. Lorenzo’s eyebrows shot up. “Your imagination is working overtime, Nancy,” he said. “There’s no threat. No blackmail.”
This time Nancy knew he was lying. All she had to do now was find out why.
“What a day.” Nancy yawned as she, Ned, and George walked back across the campus toward Ned’s frat. “We’ve been soaped, icicled, filed, disqualified, and reinstated—and we’re still not done for the day.”
George pushed up the cuff of her parka to check her watch. “What time did we tell C.J. and Grant we’d meet to brainstorm the third clue?” she asked.
“Nine-thirty,” Ned said. He glanced at the brick fraternity house to their left, then chuckled. “I guess we’re not the only ones working on clues.”
“Sigma Pi,” Nancy said, reading the Greek letters on the banner over the doorway. She glanced through the front window and saw Philip, Jake, and Malik. They were sitting around a wooden plank balanced on milk crates that served as their coffee table. On the plank was a slip of paper that looked like a clue.
“Where’s Dennis?” she wondered out loud.
As she spoke, a door to the left of the living room opened. Dennis and the other guy on the Sigma Pi team emerged from a bedroom and joined everyone else.
“Did you guys see that bedroom? Do you think it’s Dennis’s?” Nancy asked.
Without waiting for an answer, she stepped off the path and waded through the snow toward the brick frat house.
“What are you doing?” George whispered.
Nancy made her way around the side of the house to the window of the bedroom from which Dennis had emerged. “If he’s the saboteur, maybe we’ll find something to prove it in his room.”
“We don’t know for sure it is his room,” Ned pointed out. He followed Nancy, shooting uncertain glances at the living room window. “What if they catch us?”
Nancy pushed the window frame up, then grinned when it rose noiselessly. “We’ll have to make sure they don’t, that’s all.”
“I’ll keep watch,” George whispered, ducking next to some bushes near the living room window. “Just be fast!”
Moving as quickly and quietly as they could, Nancy and Ned climbed through the window. To their left was a desk with a sleek laptop computer that Nancy recognized immediately.
“That’s Dennis’s. We’re in luck!” she whispered.
The muffled sounds of Sigma Pi voices came through the door. Nancy took a calming breath and looked around at the bed, dresser, and bookshelf that took up most of the space. The walls were plastered with Emerson Wildcat pennants. Trophies, photographs, books, and papers cluttered every surface. A jumble of clothes and sports equipment was visible through the half-open closet door.
“I’ll check in there,” Ned whispered, tiptoeing to the closet.
Nancy nodded. “Keep your eyes open for soap, a screwdriver, or any sign that Dennis is the one blackmailing Mr. Lorenzo.”
She turned to the desk. Nancy didn’t dare turn on the computer—Dennis would definitely hear it boot up. Instead she sorted through the books and papers on the desktop.
Nancy glanced at a couple of photographs as she set them aside to get at a notebook. One photo was of Dennis, a middle-aged couple, and a slightly older boy with dark eyebrows that stretched above his eyes in a solid line. Nancy guessed they were Dennis’s brother and parents. The other was an autographed photo of Ziggy Laroquette, the hottest player in professional basketball. At the bottom of the photo someone had written a message: “The stars are in your reach. The sky’s the limit.” The signature, in the same slanted scrawl, read simply, “Pops.”
Pops? Nancy knew Laroquette’s nickname was the Rocket. Did that mean someone else had written that message?
Nancy forced herself to focus on the sabotage and blackmail. Putting the photo aside, she continued her search.
Notebooks, address book, schedule of football games …
She was just moving to the drawers when she heard Dennis’s voice, right outside the door.
“I’ll get my computer,” he said. “I think I have a program that will …”
Nancy gasped. Ned straightened up from the closet like a bolt. His brown eyes locked on the door, widening as the doorknob rattled.
Dennis was about to catch them red-handed.
12
Close Call
