163 The Clues Challenge

by Carolyn Keene

  soapy stair in the tower. George could have been

  injured when her ski was sabotaged. Who knows what

  would have happened if we'd eaten the dessert with

  that muscle relaxant on it . . .

  Joy watched impassively. “I didn't have anything to

  do with any of that,” she said coolly.

  “Oh, yeah?” Nancy countered. “Whoever knocked

  that icicle down dropped this.” She held out the file

  Ned had found. “I think it was used to cut the screws

  on George's bindings.”

  Joy shrugged. “You've got a lot of nerve, trying to pin

  that on me,” she said in a voice that was deadly serious.

  “I've had enough of your tricks. Back off!”

  With that she strode past Nancy and started down

  the main stairs. All Nancy could do was stare after her.

  “What is going on?” she murmured. Why was Joy

  acting as if she were the one being attacked?

  By the time Nancy got back outside, Joy was gone.

  The sun was low, and the western sky glowed a deep

  purple-orange. Ned, C.J., and George surrounded

  Grant, who held up the paper clue.

  “We're in business!” he said.

  “Just in time.” George cupped a hand to her ear as a

  loud air horn echoed through the air. “Hear that?”

  “The signal to end the Clues Challenge for today,”

  Ned said. “We'd better check in with Mr. Lorenzo at

  HQ,” he said. “We don't want him to think we're

  looking for clues after hours.”

  Nancy's grip tightened around the file in her jacket

  parka. “There's something else I want to talk to him

  about, too.”

  When they got to the Sports Complex, they found

  Mel Lorenzo at the snack counter in the atrium.

  “Excellent. You're the third team to check in,” he

  said. He grinned at them as he picked up a can of diet

  soda and started back across the AstroTurf to the table

  where he'd been camped out all day. “I'm just waiting

  for the Sigmas now.”

  “While you're waiting . . .” Nancy pulled the file

  from her jacket pocket. “Is this yours?” she asked.

  Mr. Lorenzo took the file and turned it over in his

  palm. “Could be. It's the right size. But I'm afraid they

  all look pretty much the same.”

  “We found it on the roof of the administration

  building,” Ned said. “Right after someone knocked off

  an icicle that nearly killed Grant.”

  Mr. Lorenzo kept turning the file over in his hand as

  they told him about what had happened. He didn't look

  up or speak until after Nancy described her encounter

  with Joy.

  “Wow,” he finally said. Putting the file down on the

  table, he sipped from his can of diet soda. “Joy didn't

  mention the incident. You say she denied that she was

  the person you saw?”

  Nancy nodded. “But we found her glove. Who else

  could it have been?”

  “I understand what you're saying,” Mr. Lorenzo

  said. “But without something more solid . . .”

  “I know, I know. You can't disqualify her team.”

  George crossed her arms over the front of her parka.

  “No offense, Mr. Lorenzo,” she said. “But that really

  stinks.”

  “It's my job to judge this competition fairly,” he told

  her. “I can't jump to conclusions.”

  Pulling Ned aside, Nancy whispered, “He's doing it

  again. Why does he keep going out of his way to try to

  convince us nothing funny is going on?”

  “Maybe he just doesn't want any negative publicity,”

  Ned suggested. “Bad press about the Clues Challenge

  could translate to bad business for his store.”

  “Maybe. But . . . I keep thinking about that com-

  puter threat,” Nancy said. “What if whoever sent the

  threat actually convinced Mr. Lorenzo to hand over the

  answers?”

  Ned shook his head. “It doesn't make sense,” he told

  her. “If someone has the answers to the clues, they

  wouldn't need to sabotage us.”

  “True,” Nancy agreed.

  She and Ned returned to the rest of the group in

  time to hear Mr. Lorenzo say, “Just try to enjoy the rest

  of the challenge. You'll be at the Tropical Paradise

  dance party tonight?”

  “Sure,” C.J. answered. “Randy's going to cover all

  the Clues Challenge events, so he'll be there, too.”

  “If he ever gets back from his trip to SportsMania,

  that is,” Grant put in.

  Mr. Lorenzo's head jerked up. “Randy went to the

  store?” he asked. When C.J. nodded, Mr. Lorenzo

  blew out an angry breath. “Man, oh, man. Why can't

  that lowlife stay away from me?”

  “Whoa,” George said under her breath as they all

  headed toward the glass doors. “I wonder why he hates

  Randy so much?”

  “Add that to our list of unanswered questions,”

  Nancy said. Shooting her friends a wry smile, she

  added, “The Clues Challenge is over for the day, but

  something tells me the mystery is just getting started.”

  9. After-Hours Sleuthing

  The first stars were already twinkling in the evening sky

  above the lake when Nancy left the Sports Complex.

  All across the snow-covered campus, lights blinked on.

  Nancy stopped outside the glassed-in atrium just to

  look at the post card-perfect scene.

  “Isn't that Randy?” she asked as a red Jeep pulled

  into the parking lot. Even in the darkening sky, his

  white-blond hair shone.

  “Yup.” C.J. waited until the Jeep stopped in front of

  them and Randy got out, then he walked over and said,

  “Hi. Where've you been?”

  “Something came up,” Randy said. He scooped up

  some papers from the passenger seat, folded them, and

  shoved them under the cover of his notebook.

  He seemed distracted, Nancy noticed. His eyes kept

  flitting toward the glassed-in atrium, where Mel

  Lorenzo sat.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  “Um, fine,” he said. “Just fine. Let's just—”

  “Hey, C.J.!” a voice interrupted.

  Looking over her shoulder, Nancy saw Dennis

  walking toward them. He stopped in front of C.J., his

  face red from the cold and his eyes filled with chal-

  lenge.

  “How about a race, C.J.?” Dennis said, shifting from

  boot to boot. “You and me. Right here. Right now.”

  “He can't race,” George spoke up. “He's hurt.”

  “Oh, right. The big injury.” Dennis's voice was heavy

  with sarcasm.

  Nancy didn't miss the way his eyes flickered toward

  Randy. A satisfied smile slipped across Dennis's face as

  Randy reached for his camera and started snapping

  photos.

  Is he doing this just to get attention, or to distract us

  from what's really going on? Nancy wondered.

  “Hey, Garcia!” a voice called out.

  Four silhouettes moved toward them across the

  snowy parking lot. As they came closer, Nancy recog-

  nized the rest of the Sigma Pi tea
m.

  “What happened to you?” Malik asked, stopping

  next to Dennis. “We waited two hours at the Student

  Center for you to come back. What's up?”

  “I—” Dennis began.

  “Save the excuses,” Philip told him. “Let's check in

  with Mr. Lorenzo so we can brainstorm the clue before

  tonight's party.

  Dennis started to walk away, then stopped to jab a

  finger in C.J.'s direction. “Just remember, hotshot, I

  can show you up anytime, anywhere,” he bragged.

  C.J. just rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said.

  “Hmm,” Nancy said as the guys from Sigma Pi went

  through the atrium door. “If Dennis wasn't with his

  teammates this afternoon . . .”

  “Where was he?” Ned finished.

  “The party doesn't start for another two hours,”

  Nancy said. “There's something I want us to do first.”

  Ned turned to Randy, C.J., and Grant and said, “You

  guys go ahead. We'll meet you at the party.”

  George grinned at Nancy and said, “I know that

  look. What kind of plan are you cooking up, Nan?”

  “It bothers me that Mr. Lorenzo keeps saying no

  one threatened him,” Nancy said. “As long as he's still

  busy here . . .”

  “You want to check out Sports Mania?” Ned

  guessed.

  Nancy nodded. “If we hurry, we can be in and out

  before Mr. Lorenzo leaves here.”

  Fifteen minutes later Ned, Nancy, and George

  paused just outside the patch of yellow the store lights

  shed on the sidewalk outside Sports Mania.

  “It looks like the place is empty, except for Jimmy,”

  Ned said.

  “Mr. Lorenzo's employee?” Nancy peered through

  the display window at the young man behind the

  counter. He was tall and gangly, with dark brown skin,

  black hair cut close to the scalp, and baggy clothes.

  “You guys distract him,” Nancy said. “I'll try to get

  inside Mr. Lorenzo's office and look around.”

  “Can I help you?” Jimmy asked as they came in.

  George launched into a story about needing a warm-

  up suit. The young man led her and Ned up to the loft

  area. Nancy hung behind, looking at skis.

  As soon as Jimmy was out of sight, she tiptoed to the

  office door at the back of the store, turned the knob,

  then frowned.

  “Locked,” she whispered as she pulled a credit card

  from her wallet. Quickly and carefully she worked the

  card against the lock.

  “Yes!” she whispered as the lock clicked open. One

  quick step took her inside. Nancy shut the door quietly

  behind her and looked around.

  A desk, some shelves, a copy machine, and a filing

  cabinet took up most of the space. It all had the same

  modern look as the rest of the store, but more cramped

  and messy Papers and books cluttered the desktop.

  Nancy began leafing through the papers on the desk.

  “Receipts, order forms, catalogs . . . Hmm. What's

  this?”

  She plucked a thick computer printout from

  beneath some forms. At the top of each page, the

  words “Accounts Payable/Accounts Receivable” were

  printed.

  Daily sales figures were listed, along with expenses

  for inventory, rent, insurance, and some payments

  labeled Miscellaneous. Nancy saw nothing suspicious,

  so she abandoned the printout and went through Mr.

  Lorenzo's desk drawers.

  “Supplies, printer cartridges, business cards, more

  catalogs . . .” she murmured. Again, nothing suspicious.

  “What now?” she wondered, sitting back in the desk

  chair.

  At that moment Nancy's gaze fell on a trash bin that

  was tucked under the desk. It was a long shot, but. . .

  Leaning forward, she began to pick through the

  crumpled napkins, old order forms, coffee containers,

  and discarded bits of paper.

  Right under a Styrofoam dish still half full of fried

  rice was a crumpled piece of paper. After shaking a few

  greasy kernels from it, she smoothed the paper out on

  the desktop and read the words printed in capital

  letters:

  MY PRICE JUST WENT UP TO $1,500.

  PAY UP . . . OR I'LL TALK.

  “Whoa!” Nancy's whole body jolted to attention. She

  looked at the note again, zeroing in on the amount.

  Fifteen hundred dollars. Hadn't she seen something

  for that amount in the accounts printout?

  Nancy shot her right hand out and grabbed the

  printout. Her finger moved like lightning over the

  entries until she found the one she was looking for,

  near the end.

  “Here!” she said under her breath.

  It was a Miscellaneous payment for fifteen hundred

  dollars. And the date was . . .

  “Yesterday!”

  Nancy paged back through the printout. Exactly

  fourteen days earlier she found another Miscellaneous

  payment. This one was for one thousand dollars. And

  another thousand-dollar payment was listed fourteen

  days before that.

  Flipping back, Nancy made note of every Miscel-

  laneous payment in the printout. There were seven in

  all, made exactly two weeks apart. Each payment was

  for a thousand dollars except the last one.

  “When the blackmailer's price went up,” Nancy said

  quietly.

  Her mind whirled at top speed. The note she had

  found made it pretty clear that Mr. Lorenzo was being

  blackmailed. But whoever had left that note wanted

  more than just the answers to the Clues Challenge.

  Someone was blackmailing Mr. Lorenzo for serious

  money.

  10. Blackmail

  George and Ned were still in the loft of Sports Mania

  with Jimmy when Nancy found them again. She paused

  at the top of the metal stairs, watching while George

  modeled a bright red warm-up suit.

  “I don't know about the color . . .” George said.

  As soon as Nancy gave her a thumbs-up sign,

  George pulled the suit off and handed it back to

  Jimmy.

  “I'll pass for now,” she said, grabbing her parka and

  heading for the stairs.

  Ned dumped another warm-up outfit into Jimmy's

  arms and followed George. They clattered down the

  stairs behind Nancy, leaving Jimmy alone in the loft

  area.

  “You found something?” Ned said as soon as they

  were outside.

  Nancy showed him and George the note and told

  them about the miscellaneous payments.

  “So someone is blackmailing Mr. Lorenzo!” George

  wrapped her scarf around the collar of her parka as

  they made their way back toward campus. “But . . . is it

  the same person who's been sabotaging us?”

  “That's the million-dollar question,” Nancy said.

  “The payments go back to the beginning of October.”

  “I doubt those payments have anything to do with

  the Clues Challenge,” Ned said, hunching against the

  wind. “Mr. Lorenzo didn't agree to sponsor the Clues

  Challenge until ab
out three weeks ago. It was already

  November.”

  “On the other hand the last payoff was made just

  yesterday.” Nancy shot a meaningful glance at her

  friends. “The same day Mr. Lorenzo received that

  computer threat.”

  “There could be a connection,” George finished.

  “Dennis and Joy were both out on their own after the

  pre-challenge dinner. But”—she gave a shake of her

  head, as if she were trying to clear it—“why would

  either of them blackmail Mr. Lorenzo?”

  The question hung in the air as they started through

  the woods toward campus. Wind whistled eerily

  through the tree branches.

  “I'm starting to wonder about someone else, too,”

  she said. “Have you guys noticed how Mr. Lorenzo

  reacts to Randy?” Nancy asked.

  George chuckled. “You mean, like Randy is a plague

  that could destroy the human race?”

  Ned shrugged. “That doesn't mean Randy is

  blackmailing him. Randy didn't even show up at

  Emerson until yesterday, and the blackmail started a

  lot longer ago than that.”

  Nancy sighed, trying to figure it out. “All I know is

  that Mr. Lorenzo overreacts whenever Randy is

  around—and I'd like to find out why,” she said.

  “Wow. This place looks great!” Nancy said, an hour

  and a half later.

  She, George, and Ned paused in the doorway of the

  Attic, a large, open room at the top of the Student

  Center. A dozen dormer windows formed alcoves that

  were furnished with sofas, chairs, and coffee tables. At

  the far end of the room a band played on a low

  platform, and the dance floor was already packed.

  “Check out the tropical decor.” George bobbed her

  head to the music as she took in the beach scene that

  someone had painted on the walls in glowing,

  iridescent colors.

  “Luckily, we're dressed to match!” said Nancy. She

  took off her parka, yellow team hat, and heavy sweater

  to reveal a flowered sarong skirt and tank top. George

  had on shorts and a tennis shirt, while Ned wore a red-

  and-white Hawaiian shirt with jeans.

  An alcove right next to the door was fitted with

  hooks and shelves.

  “Looks like C.J. and Grant are already here,” Ned

  said, pointing to the bright yellow Omega team hats

  that lay on one of the shelves. He grinned at Nancy and

  George. “Let's dance!”