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  “And kill Randy?” Bess was horrified.

  “None of the other threats worked,” Josh said helplessly. “If Emerson wins today, my father will lose all our savings.” He lowered his voice and added, “And more. This bookie has promised to make us pay—in blood.”

  “An explosion in the locker room will raise a lot of suspicion,” Nancy pointed out.

  “Not when the bomb is attached to a boiler that’s been acting up for months.”

  Just then the outside door to the locker room opened and Ned rushed in, scowling. “I didn’t get anywhere with Dean Jarvis. He insists that he can report only to the police, said something about confidentiality. I told him it was important but—” He broke off as he noticed the dismantled bomb on the bench next to Josh.

  “That’s okay,” Nancy told him. “We’ve found some answers on our own. And we just stopped Josh from blowing up Randy.”

  Nancy looked at her watch. “Uh-oh! It’s almost three-thirty. Coach Mitchell will be sending Randy in here any second. I have to get outside to make sure the other half of this crime team doesn’t slip past us. Bess can fill you in on what’s happened.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need a hand?” Ned asked.

  “Stay here and keep an eye on Josh until the police get here,” Nancy instructed as she backed out the door.

  In the stadium, Nancy stood at the front of the bleachers, behind the players’ bench. With just over a minute left in the first half, the score was ten to six in favor of Emerson. Way to go, Randy! Nancy thought with a smile.

  Nancy checked her watch as the coach called a time-out: 3:31. Just four minutes until the intended explosion time. Coach Mitchell motioned Randy off the field and spoke with him briefly. Nancy wasn’t surprised when Randy nodded at the coach, stripped off his helmet, and started jogging down the path toward the locker room.

  As Randy passed her, Nancy shivered to think what might have happened to him if she hadn’t stopped Josh in time. She waited until Randy had disappeared, then walked onto the edge of the playing field and joined Coach Mitchell.

  “Coach,” she said firmly, “you’re needed in the locker room right away.”

  Nancy could see a flash of annoyance in his eyes as he peered down at her. “I can’t leave the field now! My team is in the middle of play.”

  “But it’s an emergency,” Nancy persisted. “It’s Josh—I’m afraid he’s been hurt.”

  For a moment the coach froze. He stole a quick glance up at the clock on the scoreboard, which now read 3:33.

  “My son—” Coach Mitchell said in a horrified voice.

  Before Nancy could say anything more, the coach turned and tossed his clipboard to the ground. “I have to save him,” he mumbled, then scrambled down the path toward the locker room.

  Nancy followed as quickly as she could, catching up with the coach just as he threw open the door and bounded inside.

  “What!” Coach Mitchell bellowed, skidding to a halt.

  Looking over his shoulder, Nancy saw that the police had arrived. A tall, lanky officer was handcuffing Josh.

  “Why, you little—” The coach spun around, his face mottled red and purple.

  A moment later he lunged at Nancy, his large hands grabbing for her throat.

  Chapter Eighteen

  NANCY REARED BACK in shock, and the coach’s hands closed over thin air. With lightning speed, she grabbed one of his arms and twisted it behind his back. A moment later the tall officer was clapping a pair of cuffs around Coach Mitchell’s wrists.

  “You did it!” the coach sputtered, glaring at Nancy and struggling against the officer. “You turned these people against me!”

  “That’s not true,” she said, facing him squarely. “You were using the Wildcats—manipulating the team’s performance so that you could make money.”

  The coach let his gaze drop to the floor. “I have nothing to say,” he muttered.

  “It’s too late for that, Dad,” Josh said wearily. “She’s already guessed everything. It’s all over now.”

  “I’ve never been so scared in my life!” Bess insisted. “Nancy just pointed at the bomb and told him to defuse it! Can you believe that?”

  Ned slipped an arm around Nancy’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Sounds pretty exciting to me.”

  “For the moment I’m just glad it’s over,” Nancy said, smiling up at him.

  She and Ned were sitting on the hood of her Mustang in the parking lot outside the stadium. Alumni and students were gathered in clusters for the traditional post-game tailgate party. Even though Emerson had lost, spirits were high.

  “And all this was going on while we were playing the first half?” Jerry asked. “Sounds like the real action was happening off the field.”

  Bess nodded. “By the time you guys filed in at halftime, the Mitchells had already been taken to the police station.”

  “Dean Jarvis tells me that charges have been filed against Josh and his father,” Ned told Nancy. He rubbed a hand over her shoulder to warm her up. “They’re gone now, and I can’t say that I’ll miss them, even if Josh was a great quarterback.”

  “But you’ve still got an honest quarterback on the roster,” she said.

  Ned followed her gaze to a nearby Jeep, where Randy was digging into a cooler to find sodas for two cheerleaders. “That’s true. And it looks like Danielle hasn’t tarnished his reputation completely,” he added, chuckling.

  Nancy laughed. “He really did do a pretty good job in today’s game. Even though the Wildcats lost, they scored seventeen points. The Pirates only beat them by three.”

  “Hey, the dogs are ready.” Hopping off the car, he went over to the portable charcoal grill that he and Jerry had set up.

  “Good,” Bess said, “because I’m famished.”

  Ned returned with a platter of hot dogs loaded with mustard and onions, and they all dug in.

  Nancy had just taken a bite of one when she noticed some familiar faces a few cars over.

  “Hi, Nancy,” Susannah Carlson called. She looked cute in a pair of tight black jeans and a sweatshirt with Emerson emblazoned on the front.

  Nancy waved. “Congratulations on the big win,” she told Zip. He was wearing jeans and a red sweater. Tamara was clinging to his arm.

  “Hey, when I make a promise, I deliver,” Zip said with a wide grin.

  “We heard about the Mitchells,” Tamara told Nancy, “about how you discovered that they were the ones trying to hurt Randy. I don’t know how you figured it out. They seemed like clean-cut, all-American football heroes.”

  “Looks can be deceiving,” Nancy pointed out.

  “Hey, Susannah,” Ned called over from Nancy’s Mustang, “nice sweatshirt.”

  Susannah glanced down at it and blushed. “Oh, I guess you could say that I’ve come to terms with good old Emerson this weekend. I realized that I’m just bitter because I never got my college diploma. So I’ve decided to go back to school—in Chicago. And this time I’m going to finish.”

  “That’s great,” Nancy told her.

  “Well, good luck,” Ned said.

  “Thank you, Ned.” Susannah smiled. “And if you folks ever need any special spices, call me. Susannah’s Spices. I’m in the Yellow Pages.”

  Ned linked his fingers through Nancy’s and gave her hand a squeeze. “Thanks, but with Nancy around, life is spicy enough!”

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Table of Contents


  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

 


 

  Carolyn Keene, Mixed Signals

 


 

 
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