“Half our customers buy weird stuff,” Jerry told her. “That’s what keeps us in business.”
Without another word he turned and walked away. Nancy exchanged glances with Bess and George. Bess looked indignant. George rolled her eyes.
“Thanks,” Nancy muttered to the woman at the register as they left. Under her breath, she added, “For a big fat nothing.”
The three girls walked back to campus. They found the quad transformed. The rear section had been turned into a concert arena. The booths of the bazaar flanked the path back to the gate. They reminded Nancy of the sideshows on the way in to an old-fashioned circus big top.
“I say we prowl around and watch for trouble,” George suggested.
“I want to talk to the exhibitors,” Bess said. “Maybe one of them’s noticed something helpful.”
Nancy smiled to herself. Bess could never pass up a chance to do some serious shopping.
“I’ll be backstage,” Nancy said. “I still can’t believe no one saw whoever untied the tent ropes yesterday.”
A wooden sawhorse blocked the entrance to the performing area. When Nancy started to slide by it, a campus security officer hurried over and blocked her way. “Sorry, you’ll have to wait outside,” he said. “Only those with cards are allowed in.”
Cyril was twenty feet away, talking to a couple of stagehands. He noticed Nancy and called, “She’s okay, Skip. She’s part of the crew. Let her by.”
Skip stepped aside.
The whole back part of the quad was now filled with hundreds of folding chairs. The stage had been made at least twenty feet wider and ten deeper than the day before. Imposing speaker towers loomed on each side of it. Behind the stage a second green-and-yellow tent had joined the one Nancy remembered so well.
Nancy started down the center aisle toward the stage. She noticed that soundboards and light boards had been installed on a platform about eight feet up, in the middle of the rows of seats. A ladder at the back led up to the platform, and cloth panels tied to the railings screened it from view.
As Nancy walked by, one of the cloth panels fluttered in the breeze. She was two steps farther along when she realized that there wasn’t any breeze. She turned and stared. The panel was still now. Had she imagined the motion? Maybe, but she didn’t think so. She had better check.
She walked back and started up the ladder. When her head was level with the floor of the platform, she paused to study the space. Directly across from her were the light board and the soundboard. Thick bunches of cables snaked down from each. Two stacks of black fiberboard equipment cases hid the ends of the platform from her.
She scrambled up the remaining rungs and stepped cautiously over to peer behind the nearest stack of cases. There was nothing there but a crumpled, empty corn chip bag.
Behind her a shoe scraped on the plywood floor. Nancy started to turn. Suddenly a paper bag was pulled down over her head. Two strong hands closed around her upper arms. She took a deep breath and prepared to twist free. Before she could, however, she was hurled to the left.
The bag blinded her, but she knew what was in that direction: the gap in the railing where the ladder was attached. And beyond that, nothing . . . only a shattering fall onto rows of metal chairs.
14
A Shocking Plot
Off balance, Nancy staggered sideways. She flung her arms wide. Her fingers groped for anything she could grasp to save herself. As she fell to her knees, her right hand brushed against a bare arm. She tried to grab it, but another shove pushed her away. She heard the clatter of shoes on the steel ladder. Her attacker was escaping!
Nancy’s hip struck the plywood floor. A sharp edge dug into her painfully, but she had no time to pay attention to that because from the waist up, there was nothing under her. She was falling off the platform.
Frantically, she twisted on to her stomach. If she was falling through the gap, the rungs of the ladder must be right below her. She reached down as far as she could.
Her left forearm banged against something cold and hard. Instantly she pulled her arms up and locked her fingers around the steel rung. Moments later she felt her legs slide off the platform. She jackknifed at the waist and did a forward somersault in midair. Could her arms and hands take the sudden strain?
Nancy’s back slammed into the lower part of the ladder. Her arms felt as if they were pulling loose from her shoulder sockets. She gasped in pain and tried to catch her breath.
“Nancy! Hold on!” Ned shouted. “Hold on!”
She held on. At the same time she felt around with her feet. Was there anything to stand on, any way to take some of the burden off her aching shoulders?
Just as her heel banged into one of the lower rungs of the ladder, she felt familiar hands clasp her around the waist. “Okay!” Ned said. “I’ve got you. You can let go.”
Her fingers did not want to release their grip on the ladder. Finally Ned lowered her to the ground. She tore the paper bag off her head. The fresh air tasted very sweet.
Half a dozen people crowded around her. “What happened?” they demanded, all talking at once. “Did someone attack you? Who was it?”
Nancy cleared her throat. It felt very dry. “I don’t know,” she said. “Somebody was hiding up on the platform. When I went to check it out, he tried to push me off.”
“ ‘Tried’?” Ned repeated grimly. “He did push you off! It’s a miracle you weren’t badly hurt.”
Nancy managed a weak smile. “I owe it all to my gymnastics teacher back in fifth grade,” she joked. “I don’t know what the guy was up to, messing with the light and sound boards, but somebody should check them out.”
“I’ll do it,” one of the tech crew volunteered. He swung up the ladder.
“We need to talk,” Nancy told Ned in a low voice. He followed her off to one side. The other onlookers took the hint and went about their business.
“I think our bad guy just made a major boo-boo,” Nancy continued.
“You better believe it,” Ned replied. “When I catch up with him, he is ancient history!”
“That’s not what I mean,” Nancy said. “When I came in just now, a guard stopped me. He said I needed a card. Cyril had to tell him to let me in.”
“Right,” Ned said. He reached into his shirt and fished up an ID card on a metal chain. In large print it read, Worldbeat Weekend—Official. “We should have made these up for you three. I guess no one thought of it.”
“Water under the bridge,” Nancy said. “My point is, whoever was up on the platform either has one of those cards or was vouched for by someone who does. Can you get us a list of cardholders, right away?”
