Carolyn Keene - Two Points to Murder

What should she do? As she walked toward the dorm, she turned over the possibilities. She couldn’t go to the police, of course. She had evidence against Mike, but no positive proof.

Maybe she could get to him through Jan Teller, she thought. If she told Mike’s girlfriend about the awful things he was doing, Jan might agree to talk to him, to ask him to turn himself in. But no, she decided, that plan had too many problems. It would take time, for one thing. For another, there was no guarantee that Mike would cooperate.

Ned? Help from her boyfriend was definitely out of the question, she knew. The new evidence from Mike’s locker would not convince him of his co-captain’s guilt. She was beginning to think that nothing would convince him of that!

Was that because he was guilty of taking illegal payments himself?

For the hundredth time, Nancy’s thoughts returned to the awful possibility that the boy she loved was not the boy she thought he was. Would he even tell her the truth when she finally asked him? She didn’t know. In a way, she felt like she didn’t know anything anymore. Since this case had started, her world had turned upside down. Would she ever get it straightened out?

Nancy needed to sit down and think. Looking around, she spotted the library off to her right. She walked briskly toward it.

Inside, the building smelled of books and floor wax. Nancy walked to an area crammed with study cubicles, slipped into an empty one, and sat down. Mentally, she tried to sort through the pieces of the puzzle.

Suddenly a student working nearby caught her attention. Ray Ungar! What was he doing here? The library was the last place she ever expected to see him, especially on a Saturday!

Ray looked up and saw her watching him. Instantly, he scooped up his books and started to leave. Nancy blocked his exit.

“Ray, wait! You don’t have to go.”

“Why should I stay? So you can pry into my life some more?”

“I’m not prying into your life. I’m not doing anything to you at all.”

“Sure,” he snapped. “Tell me another one. You’re just like everyone else. You think I’m funny . . . stupid Ray, Mr. Flunk-out!”

Nancy stared. What was he talking about? Why did he sound so bitter? “Ray, would you mind explaining this to me? I’m not trying to make fun of you. I’m trying to understand!”

He hesitated. At first Nancy thought he would go, but then he dropped his books on top of his desk with a clatter.

“All my life I’ve had trouble in school,” Ray said. “Math, English, history . . . other kids learn that stuff easy, but not me. I have to work, and work hard, just to get C’s!”

“That’s not so unusual. Lots of kids have trouble in school.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t make it any easier for me. The only time I feel like somebody important is when I play basketball.”

“I see. Is that why you hate Coach Burnett so much? Because he cut you from the team and took away your self-respect?”

Ray looked surprised. “I don’t hate Coach! He had to cut me from the team. My grades were too low . . . that’s the rules!”

“Wait a minute! Hold on . . .” Nancy touched her temples with her fingertips. “Am I hearing this right? You don’t think Coach Burnett did anything wrong when he cut you?”

“No way.”

“Then why do you claim to hate the team? Why did you swear you’d never go to another Wildcat game as long as you live?”

“Oh, that! I was just ticked off. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“So at the Haviland game, you really were cheering for Emerson?”

“How did you know I was there?”

“I saw you on a videotape,” she explained. “Look, Ray, there’s still something I don’t understand . . . why pretend? Why let your teammates think that you don’t support them?”

Ray’s eyes dropped. “It’s the way they look at me. They all feel sorry for me, and I can’t stand that!” he said.

“So you act angry at them to put them off? To keep them from pitying you?”

“That’s right. That way I can work on my grades without them always asking how it’s going. Man, school is hard enough without people getting on your case all the time.”

“And that’s why you’re at the library today?” she asked. “You’re studying in order to push your grades up and get back on the team?”

He nodded. “Coach says that if I get my grade-point average up, he’ll put me in the starting lineup next season.”

Now Nancy understood. Ray wasn’t handling his problems in the best possible way, in her opinion, but that wasn’t her business. All that mattered to her was that he had no reason to hurt the Wildcats with practical jokes.

Of course, it was possible that he was lying to her, but the sincerity in his voice convinced Nancy that for once he was telling the truth.

She was glad, but nervous, too. With both Tom and Ray out of the running, she would now have to tell Ned something that she knew he didn’t want to hear: His friend and co-captain, Mike O’Shea, was definitely responsible for the practical jokes—and a lot more, besides!

Chapter Thirteen

That afternoon an enormous pep rally took place in the gym. Emotions ran high as the band played a medley of fight songs. The cheerleaders whipped the crowd into a hand-clapping, foot-stamping frenzy. The division championship was at stake that night, and one question loomed large in everyone’s mind: Would the Wildcats win the crown, or would they go down in defeat?

Nancy stood near the doors with Bess and George, pondering a different question: When and how would the practical joker strike next? There was no doubt in her mind that he would. He had to! This was his last chance to stop the team’s drive for the title.

As the rally’s finale neared, a series of floats motored onto the court. A thousand purple and orange balloons fell from the ceiling as a platoon of baton twirlers kicked and smiled. It was an exciting scene, but Nancy was too worried to enjoy it.

A second later, George touched her arm. “Nancy, I think there’s a problem outside. Want to check it out?”

Outside in the corridor, the team members were waiting to be introduced to the crowd. They were all nicely dressed in khaki slacks, ties, and Emerson, blazers, but on their faces were looks of worry. What now? Nancy wondered.

“Ned? What’s going on?”

“It’s Mike . . . he hasn’t shown up yet,” her boyfriend said tensely.

“He knew about the rally, right?”

“Of course he did!” Ned snapped irritably.

Nancy felt her face go red. Part of her wanted to shout at him, and part of her wanted to beg him not to be angry with her anymore. In the end, she did neither.

“Maybe he’s been delayed for some reason,” she suggested evenly.

Howie Little stepped forward and shook his head. “Mike’s the first one to arrive anywhere, even for practice!”

“Yeah, it’s not like him to go AWOL,” Andy Hall added.

Nancy didn’t see what she could do about the situation. If her suspicions about Mike were correct—and she was certain that they were—there was no telling where he might be.

In the gym, the dean of the college stepped up to the microphone. “ And now it’s time to meet our team! ” he announced. “ First, playing forward, number thirty-two . . . Kyle . . . Jefferson! ”

Cheers shook the gym. He was starting at the bottom of the roster, Nancy realized. That was good. It meant that Mike and Ned, the co-captains, would be the last to be introduced. Mike had a few more minutes to show.

One by one, the players walked into the gym as their names and numbers were called. Nancy watched the front entrance of the building anxiously, but finally Ned was the only one left in the corridor. Mike wasn’t going to appear.