Danger at the Iron Dragon

by Carolyn Keene

  The next half hour was very similar to our experience at Iron Dragon. We got dressed and joined the dozen students already waiting for the class to start in an airy training room, then went through a similarly challenging warm-up that left me breathless.

  “This case is exhausting,” I muttered to Bess when we were done.

  “I know!” she squealed. “Isn’t it awesome?”

  “All right, everyone, circle up!” Master Brock commanded, and the students quickly gathered in the center of the mats. “We’re going over armbars today. Lucy, come out.”

  A purple-belt girl with blue eyes and light brown hair tied in a messy ponytail jumped to her feet to help Master Brock demonstrate the technique. “That must be Lucy Hayes,” I whispered in Bess’s ear. “The girl Carly told me about—the friend who ratted her out to Master Brock.”

  “She looks like she means business,” Bess replied.

  I had to agree. Lucy wasn’t particularly big or tall, but her intense expression throughout the demonstration made it clear she wasn’t someone to mess with.

  Master Brock began by showing us the various details of the move, which was a joint lock meant to put intense pressure on the elbow. “The secret to armbars is speed and accuracy!” he said. “You’re applying the strength of your entire body against your opponent’s one arm. Do it correctly, and they have no chance against you! Now, partner up for drilling.”

  I scanned the room. Bess ended up with Lucy, which was good, but all the other students were big, intimidating young men who didn’t look even slightly interested in drilling with me. Finally my gaze landed on a skinny guy about my age, with light brown skin, black hair, and a goatee. Unlike the rest of the students, his face radiated friendliness. I walked over to him, and as soon as he saw me, his eyes lit up.

  “Hi, I’m Na—um, I mean, Kat,” I said, holding out my hand.

  “Hey, I’m Zhuang,” he replied, giving me a firm handshake. He seemed surprised for some reason—maybe they didn’t usually have a lot of girls at this academy? “Zhuang Ha, but my friends call me Z. You ready to do some armbars, dude?”

  “Ready when you are,” I said, smiling.

  Turns out, armbars are a lot more difficult than they look. During my go, I swiveled around awkwardly, trying to get the right angle, but nothing I did seemed to work. Strangely, when Master Brock walked by and saw what a mess I was making of the technique, all he said was, “Looking good, Kat! You’re a natural!”

  Hmm, I thought, maybe this is what Carly was talking about when she said all Brock is interested in is people’s money. Even though I’m doing the technique wrong, he probably wants to make me feel good so I’ll sign a contract.

  After a few more minutes of practice, it seemed safe to start asking a few probing questions. “So,” I said, grimacing as Z pulled my wrist back until I had to tap. “How long have you been training here?”

  “About a year or so,” he answered.

  I clambered into position to try out another armbar. “Wow!” I said, panting. “So you like this academy? How does it compare to the other ones in River Heights?”

  Z tapped on my shoulder as I managed to finish the submission. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Well, my friend and I want to learn Jiu-Jitsu, but we haven’t decided where we want to train yet. We’ve also been looking at Iron Dragon.”

  Z sat up and glanced side to side to see if any of the other pairs were close enough to hear us. “I wouldn’t say that name too loud around here, if I were you.”

  I wiped a bead of sweat from my eye and tried not to look overly interested. “Oh? Why not?”

  “Let’s just say the vibe between Lockdown and Iron Dragon isn’t super chill.”

  “Did something happen to make the vibe… not… chill?” I asked, wincing at my own lack of coolness.

  Z looked at me curiously. “You sure do ask a lot of questions… Kat.”

  “Just nosy, I guess,” I said, shrugging. The last thing I needed was to have my cover blown before I got any information!

  A moment later my head began to swim. The combination of fatigue, nervousness, and the craziness of the past two days was making me light-headed. I needed a minute to put myself together—passing out on the floor in the middle of class was definitely not incognito. “Hey, I have to use the restroom. Do you mind?”

  “No problem,” Z said.

  “Thanks. I’ll be right back!” I jogged off the mat, heading toward the women’s locker room at the back of the building.

  There, I splashed some cold water on my face and gave myself a few minutes to get my bearings. Z had seemed a little suspicious when I’d mentioned Iron Dragon—could it be that he knew something? I’d have to be careful not to let on that I was connected with Carly Griffith, or else everyone in this place could clam up pretty quickly. You can do this, I told myself. Just be cool. Subtle. Not “Anastasia Blackstone” subtle. Actually subtle.

  I took a couple of deep breaths and opened the door, ready to get back into drilling. But when I walked out into the hallway, someone was there waiting for me.

  “Z!” I said, surprised. “Is everything okay? I was just—”

  He regarded me with narrowed eyes. “You’re not who you say you are,” he said in a low voice. “Are you… Nancy Drew?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Heat Is On

  HOW DID HE KNOW MY name?

  “Nancy who?” I said, feigning confusion. I had to try to keep up my cover story, or else my newest case would be dead in the water. “I’m just here to try a class. I don’t know who you think I am, but—”

  But Z wasn’t buying it. He took a step closer to me, his dark eyes piercing. “Nancy Drew, only daughter of local prosecutor Carson Drew,” Z rattled off. “Amateur detective. Has solved countless cases in the River Heights area and beyond. Partners include cousins Bess Marvin and George Fayne—I’m guessing that’s Bess who tagged along with you tonight?”

  I felt my jaw drop. “Uh,” I managed.

  The mission has been compromised, I thought. Abort! Abort!

  I was about to push past Z and make a run for it when he reached out and grabbed my hand, pumping it up and down. “It’s an honor to meet you, Ms. Drew. I’m such a big fan!”

  I blinked in surprise. “Wait… what? A fan? Of me?”

  “Totally!” Z replied, his entire face transformed by a huge smile. “I knew it was you the moment you walked in! I was confused at first because of the whole ‘Kat’ thing, but then I realized you must be undercover.” He said the last word in a whisper.

  “Wow,” I said, heaving a sigh of relief. “You scared the heck out of me, Z. I thought you were going to try to beat me up or something.”

  Z’s eyes widened. “Me? Beat up Nancy Drew?” He laughed. “Dude, I’d never. I was just so jazzed to meet you, and I wanted a chance to talk to you alone without giving away the game.”

  “But how do you know about me? All those details?” I asked.

  Z reached up to fix his hair, which was sticking straight up like a coxcomb after all the armbars. “Oh, I’m a junior reporter for the River Heights Bugle. I’ve seen your photograph in some back issues and read all the articles about you. It’s great stuff! Much more exciting than the high school sports scores and reports from city council meetings I usually have to cover. Anyway…” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure we were still alone. “What’s the scoop, Nancy? Stolen trophy? Black-belt blackmail? Some other kind of Jiu-Jitsu crime?”

  I bit my lip. I wanted to keep the details of this case under wraps, but on the other hand, having a local reporter on my side—with access to all kinds of information—might come in handy. Maybe I could use this new development to my advantage.… “If I tell you about the case,” I said carefully, “you have to promise to keep it to yourself. It’s really important.”

  Z nodded and threw his shoulders back like a trained soldier. “Totally understand. Lives are at stake. The fate of the world. You can count on
me.”

  “I mean, the ‘fate of the world’ might be overstating it a bit—”

  “You never know…” Z’s eyes were sparkling.

  He was really enjoying this. And who am I to argue with him? I thought. I’m a girl who solves mysteries for fun.

  I smiled. “You’re right—lives are at stake. Welcome to the team, Z.” I pulled out my phone and brought up the photos I’d taken of the dead rat and the graffiti. “Take a look,” I said, turning the screen toward him. “Someone snuck into Iron Dragon MMA last night and did this. I’m following up on a lead that one of the people here at Lockdown might be trying to intimidate Carly Griffith. She’s got a big competition coming up, and she’s going to be fighting some of her old teammates. You’re a student here. Do you think anyone on Team Lockdown would ever do something like this?”

  Z rubbed his chin. “Hmm. It was a big deal when Carly left. I heard that she made a bunch of accusations against Master Brock—I never heard any of them myself—and he was not happy about it. Said it was all made up, and that a liar like her didn’t belong in his academy. Master Brock led us to believe that he kicked her out after that. Are you saying that she split on her own?”

  “That’s what Carly told me,” I replied. “She said that she’d found some pretty convincing evidence that Brock was a fraud and told Lucy Hayes about it. But instead of keeping the secret, Lucy went and told Brock—which must have led to the confrontation you heard about. Carly said that he told her to take back what she said or pay the price. So she decided to leave.” I shook my head. “Seems to me that Master Brock might be the liar.”

  Z looked surprised. “Dang. That’s a real different story from the one I’d heard. I really believed in Master Brock.… If what you’re saying is true, he really isn’t the guy I thought he was.”

  I looked at the floor. “I’m really sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Z.”

  “Hey, no—it’s okay. Better to know the truth, right?”

  I nodded. “So, with that in mind: Do you think Lucy or Brock could have done this?”

  “People are crazy, man,” said Z with a shrug. “If I learned anything from reading those articles about you, it’s that even if you think you know someone, you probably don’t. Not really. I mean, Lucy was always a little jealous of Carly’s success, and if Brock threatened Carly like you said he did, both of them have a pretty good reason to try to scare her off.”

  So they’ve both got means and motive, I thought. But what about opportunity?

  “Can you tell me when the last class here at Lockdown ended last night?” I asked.

  “Ten o’clock. Brock and Lucy were both here. We all left at the same time.”

  That’s half an hour before we were done with class at Iron Dragon. And Lockdown’s only a ten-minute drive away. It’s possible that either Lucy or Brock could have been there in time to leave the rat and the tag.

  I smiled. Things were starting to get interesting. “Good to know. Thanks, Z,” I said. I glanced back toward the main room, where Master Brock was announcing that it was time to spar. “We’d better get back before we’re missed. Hey, would it be okay if I kept in touch with you? If you’re here every night, you might see something that could be helpful. Plus, it’s always good for a detective to have a friend in the press.…”

  Z positively glowed. “Dude, you don’t even have to ask. Anything you need, anytime! Just keep me in mind when this thing starts to heat up. Nothing like a front-page story to make a junior reporter get noticed in the newsroom.”

  “You got it.”

  He raised his fist, and I gave it a bump.

  * * *

  After three rounds of sparring, Bess and I dragged ourselves outside, sore and exhausted.

  “This is starting to feel like a habit,” I groaned. I’d thrown back on my black tights and gray River Heights High sweatshirt, and I desperately needed a shower. After making sure that none of the other students were nearby, I quickly filled Bess in on my conversation with Z.

  “Oh! A reporter. That’s good,” she said. “Meanwhile, Anastasia Blackstone risked her life to retrieve vital information. I rolled with Lucy Hayes.” She tossed her head, which usually looks good, given Bess’s flowing blond locks, but she was so soaked in sweat that she looked more like a drowned cat than a diva.

  “Oh my,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “And pray tell, what did Anastasia Blackstone find out?”

  “Well, when she shared that she was a competitive fighter, I asked her all sorts of questions about it, and she told me about that upcoming tournament and who she’s fighting. Carly is one of her opponents—they’re the same belt, same weight class and division. When she mentioned Carly’s name, she looked nervous—like maybe she was hiding something. I probed a little bit, and she told me that they’d been really good friends once. I actually felt kind of sad for her. But at the same time, isn’t it the people closest to us who can hurt us the most?”

  I sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. The closer the two girls were before they fell out, the more likely it is that Lucy might want revenge on Carly for abandoning her team. Even if Carly had a good reason to leave.”

  Bess grabbed my arm. “Oh, and get this! I noticed while we were rolling that Lucy had red paint on some of her fingernails.”

  “It could just be some leftover nail polish,” I reasoned.

  “Maybe,” Bess said, raising an eyebrow. “Or it could be spray paint from when she vandalized Iron Dragon!”

  “You’re right, it could,” I said with a nod. “Nice work, Anastasia. Things at Lockdown are definitely looking suspicious.” I yawned. “But right now, I’m ready for bed. Call you tomorrow?”

  “Parfait!” Bess replied, tossing her gym bag into her car. “Bonne nuit, ma chère!”

  “I’m confused,” I said. “I thought we were from Vermont. Or Russian princesses?”

  Bess shrugged. “I don’t know any Russian.”

  “Then why—Oh, never mind.” I shook my head and waved before getting into my own car and taking off toward home.

  * * *

  A few minutes later I was stopped at a red light less than a block from Iron Dragon, listening to the radio and thinking about everything I’d learned so far. At first I’d thought that this case was going to be tough to crack—there were so many unanswered questions at the start—but I seemed to be getting the answers I needed pretty easily.

  Maybe this won’t be as hard as I thought. Wouldn’t that be a first!

  As I drove past Iron Dragon MMA, I happened to glance through the window and saw something strange: a light inside the darkened building, moving around erratically. The beam against the walls was round, like from a flashlight. I checked the dashboard clock. Ten thirty p.m. Libby had said that the academy was closed on Wednesdays except for private lessons, and it was hard to believe someone would be still be hanging around at this time of night. And in the dark? What was going on in there?

  Then I remembered something I’d said that first night: There might be more threats coming, maybe even worse ones. I gripped the steering wheel. Was it dangerous and possibly a little stupid to go check things out? Yup. Would Dad kill me if he found out? Definitely. Despite all the alarm bells signaling that I should just continue on home, was I going to pull over and go investigate? Absolutely.

  Sixty seconds later, after parking the car, I was sneaking up the sidewalk toward Iron Dragon, armed with nothing but curiosity and a big, heavy wrench I’d found in the trunk. Pressing myself up against the wall of the building, I peeked into the window. At first I didn’t see anything. Had my eyes been playing tricks on me? Maybe it was nothing.…

  But then I spied a light growing inside—though it looked different from what I’d seen before. Instead of the bright beam of a flashlight, this was a yellow flicker coming from the hallway that led to Coach Ethan’s office. I was trying to figure out what it could be, when an unmistakable smell struck my nose.

  Smoke.

  Oh my
word, I thought. Iron Dragon is on fire!

  For the second time that week, I fumbled with my phone to call 911.

  “What’s your emergency?” the dispatcher answered.

  “There’s a fire inside the Iron Dragon MMA building downtown,” I said. “At the intersection of Allen Street and Mueller Avenue. Please come quickly!”

  “We’ll be there right away, miss! Do you know if there’s anyone inside?”

  I thought about the flashlight, then said, “I don’t know. There might be.”

  “Okay. Fire and ambulance services will be there soon. Whatever you do, don’t go inside!”

  I hung up the phone and peered through the window again. The fire was spreading. I could see it climbing up the walls and across the carpet like a hungry animal, feeding and growing stronger as it burned.

  Suddenly a figure stumbled out of the hallway and into the dark lobby. The person leaned against the doorframe for a moment before collapsing to the floor.

  I felt all the blood drain from my face. Whoever that was, they were in terrible danger!

  Whatever you do, don’t go inside, the dispatcher had said. I searched the street both ways, but there was no sign of the fire trucks or ambulances yet. I turned back to the window, and my heart raced as I saw the fire licking closer and closer to the body.

  There was no time to wait. If I didn’t get in there right away, they’d never make it out!

  I tried the door, but it was locked. I was about to try kicking it in, when I remembered the heavy wrench in my hand. Taking a step back, I brought it down as hard as I could against the tempered glass door, instantly shattering it into a million pieces. I carefully slipped my hand through to unlock the door, then pushed it open, my shoes crunching on the shards as I rushed into the building.

  I coughed violently as I took in a lungful of the billowing black smoke rolling through the lobby. Dropping to the floor, I pulled my T-shirt up over my mouth and army-crawled as quickly as I could over to the body. Even with the person facing away from me, I knew from the red hair exactly who it was.