Nancy took a sip of hot tea. She could have used some food as well, but all the station had was a vending machine full of candy bars. Hungry as she was, she decided to pass on those.
Ned had already told Nancy how he had been chased in the car by one of the kidnappers. It seemed that an unmarked police car had seen the two cars speed by and had pulled them both over.
"Nancy, you should have seen the officer's face when I started talking about kidnappers and stolen paintings/' Ned said with a grin. "He thought I was out of my mind. But when I mentioned international art smugglers, he knew enough to tell Detective Ohanian here about me.
"Detective Ohanian heard me out, got together a couple of squad cars—and the rest is history,'' Ned finished. He leaned back in his chair.
"Not quite," Nancy said with a laugh. "How did you find me out on the lake? And what happened to the other kidnapper?"
Detective Ohanian took up the tale. "Ned was able to bring us as far as the lighthouse and the hideout. When we got to the lighthouse we found Denise Mason trying to work her way toward Lake Shore Drive. She told us that you were out by the lake with Bernard Corbett.
"We knew that there was only one kidnapper unaccounted for," Ohanian went on, "and he was probably guarding the hideout. We were right. He surrendered without a struggle after I told him his pal was already in custody. Then we came out to get you."
"Was I glad to see you!" Nancy exclaimed. "Lucky for me Ned was able to convince you that he was telling the truth."
"Yes, well, I must admit the story was a little hard to swallow,'' the burly detective answered. "Two kidnappings and a stolen Rembrandt. No one had even bothered to come to us until today/' He looked at Nancy sternly. She gave him a guilty grin.
Then Ohanian smiled and added, "Of course, eventually I would have figured it all out, especially after I found the Rembrandt."
"You found it?" gasped Nancy. "Where?" She had forgotten all about the missing masterpiece.
"Again, that was thanks to the car chase we interrupted. Corbett's partner was trying to go solo. He had it rolled up on his backseat when we pulled him over."
Ohanian leaned forward. "I don't think you have any idea what you've stumbled into. Miss Drew. This ring is really big. Thanks to you, we may be able to bring in everyone."
"What are you going to do?" Nancy asked curiously.
"Well," Ohanian said with a pleased grin, "I think we're on our way to convincing Bernard Corbett to help us out. With him on our side, and the Rembrandt as the bait, we should be able to run a sting, snag the ringleaders, and put an end to this racket."
"Well, good luck," Nancy told him. "I wish I could be in on it—it sounds exciting."
"Nancy!" Ned groaned.
Ohanian stood up and held out his hand.
"You've already helped us enough, Miss Drew." A sudden babble of voices erupted outside his office door.
The door flew open then, and George rushed in, followed by Dave Spector and Nella and Bob Sampson. Bob must have just returned from his trip to Detroit, Nancy guessed.
"They told us we'd have to wait until you came out, but I couldn't wait. Are you okay? What happened?" George cried.
"Did you get Bernard?" Dave put in.
"What about Denise? Is she safe?" Nella added.
"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Bob Sampson was saying plaintively.
Nancy held up her hands, laughing. "One at a time, please!" She turned to Ohanian. "Are we free to go home now?" she asked.
He nodded. "Go, and thanks again."
Nancy turned back to her friends. "Okay, let's go," she said. "But I absolutely refuse to tell anybody anything until I get fed!"
"I forgot how much fun this was!" shouted Nella Sampson over the cheering of the crowd. "Pass the popcorn."
Nancy, George, the Sampsons, and the Masons all sat together in the bleachers. It was Monday night, and the last quarter of the second game in the tournament had just begun. The score was tied at 98, and the Eagles had the ball.
"I wish Denise would take it easy," Mrs. Mason fretted. "I tried to talk her out of cheering this game, but she practically jumped down my throat."
"This is the big tournament. I knew she wouldn't give it up for anything. She's stubborn, like her father." Mr. Mason smiled at his wife. He was obviously proud of the fact that Denise took after him in this way.
Mrs. Mason pursed her lips. "Well, I certainly agree that you are one stubborn man, Jonathan Mason. I can't believe you spoke up for Bernard after what he did."
"Bernard is ambitious more than he is bad," Mr. Mason replied, frowning thoughtfully. "I don't think I can ever forgive him for kidnapping Denise, but I do understand what drove him to get involved in this smuggling escapade. And after all, he is cooperating on the sting, and soon the leaders of the smuggling ring will be behind bars."
"The smuggling team spent a lot of time researching perfect candidates for their scheme," Nancy put in. "They'd pinpoint disgruntled assistants like Bernard and tempt them with a quick way out, a way to finance their own dreams."
Just then the crowd exploded into wild cheering and foot stomping. Ned had just stolen the ball and scored.
Nancy watched as Denise and the other cheerleaders threw their pom-poms up in the air. Then the buzzer sounded. The game was over. The Wildcats had won the tournament!
Emerson fans poured down the bleachers and onto the court. Nancy stood up. She was still unsure of what was going on between her, Ned, and Denise, but she would have to face the other two sometime. It might as well be now.
"Nan, come on." George grabbed Nancy's arm and playfully pulled her down the bleachers. "It's time to really celebrate now!''
They reached the court as part of the wave of spectators. The team had Ned and Dave on their shoulders, and together they cut the net from the basket. Chaos ruled on the court. Nancy couldn't help but join in the cheering. She was excited and proud for the Wildcats—and for Ned.
Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she turned around to see Denise.
"Nancy, I've been looking for you," Denise said. She gave Nancy a big hug.
At that moment Nancy realized how much she liked Denise. The cheerleader had spirit and intelligence. The terrifying ordeal they had gone through together had helped Nancy get past the barrier of jealousy she had felt.
Yes, despite Ned's feelings, whatever they were, and despite her own insecurities, she couldn't help feeling a rush of affection for
Denise. She found herself grinning broadly at the cheerleader. *'Hey, it's great to see you," she said.
Just then they were surrounded by the Sampsons, the Masons, George, Ned, and Dave.
"Hey, let's have a victory dinner!'' cried a jubilant Jonathan Mason. "Everyone's invited to our house."
Everybody cheered the idea, but Ned shook his head. "It sounds great, Mr. Mason," he said, "but you'll have to count Nancy and me out. We've already got other plans."
Nancy was pleased and surprised. Finally she and Ned would get to spend time alone together!
Most of the noisy crowd had gone by the time Ned and Nancy left the gym, Ned took Nancy's hand in his.
"So, what was this plan we had, Ned?" she asked.
"Well, I actually do have a plan." Ned held up his hand for a passing taxi, which stopped for them. "But it's a surprise," he added as they climbed in.
They pulled up about ten minutes later in front of a familiar part of Lake Shore Drive. Nancy looked around and gulped. It was right near the place where she had been dumped on the beach.
"Where are we going?" she asked curiously.
"You'll see, you'll see," said Ned. He was grinning. They came to a door and he opened it for her. "After you," he said with a sweeping bow.
''Bonjour, monsieur, mademoiselle/' A handsome man in a tuxedo approached them. "Welcome to Le Coq d'Or."
Le Coq d'Or! Nancy was thrilled. Ned must have remembered the name from when she had told him about her adventure, and he had remembered tha
t she wanted to eat there.
"Do you have a reservation?" the man asked.
"Yes, we do,'' said Ned.
Just then the young hostess who had been so nice to Nancy hurried up to them. "Hi. I see you've found your boyfriend," she said with a smile. "I'm so glad!"
The meal was fantastic. First they had bowls of creamy potato-and-leek soup and then green salads with tangy vinaigrette dressing. Nancy chose broiled salmon for her entree while Ned had a filet mignon.
They talked about the case and whatever else they felt like talking about. It felt so good to be with Ned that Nancy didn't even want to bring up the whole Denise issue. But as she pushed the last bite of her broiled salmon around her plate, she knew that she needed to clear the air.
"Are you interested in dessert?" asked their waiter. "I can bring the dessert cart around."
"As long as it has a lot of chocolate things on it," said Ned.
The waiter smiled. "I don't think monsieur will be disappointed with the selection. We have
chocolate mousse cake and also a double-fudge brownie cake with vanilla ice cream. That can be topped with hot fudge or caramel sauce."
"Ummm," said Nancy. "How about two forks and that last one, with fudge sauce, please."
"Very good, mademoiselle."
The waiter returned with the dessert. Nancy watched Ned's face light up as he savored the first bite.
She took a deep breath. "Ned, I want to talk to you about Denise."
Ned's fork stopped on its way to his mouth. Nancy rushed on.
"I need to know what's going on with you two. She told me that she likes you, and I know that you like her."
"Right. So?" Ned asked, lowering his fork to the plate. A startled expression was creeping over his face.
"So, I don't know where that puts me," Nancy finally stated. She hung her head.
There was a long silence. Finally Ned's soft voice broke it.
"Oh, Nancy," he said, taking her hand. "You should know that you mean the world to me. I like Denise. She's great. But she's just a friend. I love you and only you."
"Really?" A smile crept across Nancy's face.
"Really and truly." Ned tousled Nancy's hair. "Now, eat some of this dessert—unless you want me to polish off the whole thing."
Ned really did love her! She had been foolish ever to have doubted him. Nancy could feel happy tears pool in her eyes, but she blinked them back.
"Not on your life, Nickerson," she said, grabbing her own fork. "Not on your life!"
Carolyn Keene, 055 Don't Look Twice
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