“We’re going to crash!” Bess threw her arms in front of her face and screamed as the Mustang skated sideways into the intersection. Horns honked and tires screeched.
Nancy took her foot off the brake, remembering her dad’s advice about driving in the snow—slamming on the brakes would only make the car fishtail like crazy. Still, Nancy knew Bess was right. There was no way they were going to get through the intersection without an accident.
Crunch! The Mustang hit something hard and jolted to a stop. Nancy’s head snapped back and her seatbelt dug into her chest. But when she looked around, she saw with relief that Bess and the car seemed to be all right. We probably hit a curb, Nancy thought with relief.
Bess was staring at her in amazement. “We’re still in one piece,” she said in a shaky voice.
Nancy nodded slowly. “I think we made it.”
“Whew.” Bess’s shoulders slumped and she buried her head in her hands. “Remind me never to go to a demolition derby. I’ve been in one already.”
A rapping sound on the window made Nancy look up. A police officer was staring in at them, his brows furrowed with concern. Snow covered his police hat. “Are you ladies all right? That was quite a wild ride across the intersection.”
“We’re fine,” Nancy replied. “Was anyone hurt?”
The officer shook his head. “Believe it or not, it appears that we have just a couple of dented fenders.”
Bess leaned forward. “It wasn’t her fault, Officer,” she said. “A van rammed us from behind.”
“We know. Lucky for you, a witness saw the van hit you, then take off. They even gave us a license number. My partner’s calling it in.”
“We already know who the van belongs to,” Nancy said grimly.
“A jealous boyfriend?” the officer guessed as he pulled out a pad.
Nancy shook her head. “The van belongs to Madame Dugrand’s Dance Academy on Mason Street. We think the person driving it broke into the school.”
The policeman stopped writing. “Hmmm. This is serious. Let me see what my partner found out. Then we’ll fill out an accident report.”
When the officer had left, Nancy opened the car door and walked to the front of the Mustang. Luckily, the car had only collided with the curb opposite the entrance to the apartment complex. The two side tires were crunched against the concrete. It looked as if she would still be able to drive it. Nancy was thankful they hadn’t been going very fast when the van rammed them.
“Is the car okay?” Bess called.
“I guess we lucked out.” Nancy glanced at the intersection. Fortunately, the Mustang was far enough off the road so that traffic could move around it. On the other side of the street were the two police cars, their red lights flashing. In the middle of the intersection three cars were piled into each other. A cluster of people had gathered around them.
Nancy grimaced. “Those must be the drivers who had to brake to avoid us.”
“We should go over and thank them,” Bess said.
“That’s for sure.” Nancy shut her car door, then walked around to Bess’s side. “Then, after we make out our accident report, I’d like to go back to the dance academy. The culprit may have ditched the van back there.”
Bess sighed. “I should have known you’d say that. I guess I don’t feel much like going to the gala anymore anyway. I mean, look at my stockings and shoes,” she added, glancing down at her snow-caked flats and the runs that striped her stockings.
“It is getting late,” Nancy said as she walked to the edge of the road. Traffic was light, but the snow was still falling steadily. “We’re still going to the gala, though, Bess, so start getting in the party mood.” Nancy looked both ways, then sprinted across the road, calling over her shoulder, “I wouldn’t miss it for anything!”
• • •
Half an hour later, Nancy and Bess pulled onto Mason Street. When the dance school was in sight, Nancy switched off the car lights.
Bess grasped Nancy’s sleeve. “Look! The van!”
Nancy peered out the window. She could see the dim outline of the van through the snow. As she’d expected, the vehicle was parked in its regular spot. Nancy turned the Mustang into the parking lot and stopped about twenty feet behind the van. “We need to call the police,” Bess said.
Nancy nodded. “You’re right. But first I want to make sure our culprit’s not here. This time he or she isn’t getting away.” With those words, Nancy flicked on the car lights. When they beamed into the back window of the van, they silhouetted a shape sitting on the passenger side.
“Somebody’s in there!” Bess’s voice shook.
Nancy opened the car door. “I’m going to take a closer look.” Nancy pulled on her gloves. “I don’t want to erase any clues. I’m sure the police will dust for prints. But I think I know who—or at least what—is in the van,” she said grimly.
“Are you crazy?” Bess called after her.
Heart pounding, Nancy walked toward the van and grabbed the handle of the passenger door. She pressed the knob, then quickly swung the door open. Immediately, a huge brown furry thing leaped out at her. Nancy gasped and jumped backward as the Mouse King headpiece fell to the snowy ground.
Nancy let out her breath. Her hunch had been correct. Gingerly picking the headpiece up, she carried it to the Mustang.
Bess rolled her window partway down. “Yuck! Don’t you dare put that thing in here!”
“Be brave, Bess, because I don’t have any other place to put it.” Opening her door, Nancy threw the headpiece into the backseat. “I’m going to look around a bit.”
Nancy walked back to the van. Right away she saw that a single pair of footprints led to the road from the driver’s side. The prints were too small to belong to Lawrence but probably just right for Darci. Nancy followed the prints to the street, where the footsteps met up with another set of tire tracks. Whoever had been driving the van had been alone until they met someone in a car.
Nancy retraced her steps to the van. Bess was standing beside it, her arms wrapped around her chest. She was shivering. “I refuse to stay in the car with a giant mouse,” she said.
Nancy laughed. “Then help me look around. I need to find out what the person was trying to do when we surprised him or her at the school.” She walked quickly to the back of the van.
“Good question,” Bess said, following Nancy. “But why did the person lead us into the apartment complex, then slam us from behind?”
Nancy shook her head. “It does seem kind of strange. I think he or she was just trying to scare us off.” She tried the van’s back double doors and found they weren’t locked. Nancy peered inside the van. Except for a spare tire, it was empty.
