“I’m afraid we’ll have to walk to shelter,” Ned said finally. “It’s starting to grow dark, and the storm’s getting worse. We can’t stay on this road!” He thought for a second. “We must have come more than halfway. Our best bet is to head for Webb Cove.”
“You can’t walk on that ankle—”
“If you’re going to suggest that I let you go alone,” Ned interrupted, “don’t bother. Don’t even think it! If I thought I was going to be able to ski today, surely I can take a short walk.” Ned retrieved his crutches from where they had fallen in the road and he and Nancy, both still dazed, started slowly toward the lodge.
All at once Nancy began to laugh. Ned looked at her in alarm. “What are you giggling about? Are you sure you didn’t break something in that beautiful head of yours?”
Nancy shook her head. “I was just thinking—if Luke looked murderous before, think what his face will be like when he finds out what we’ve done to his precious Jeep!”
“I’m thinking,” Ned said grimly, “but I’m not laughing.”
“I know,” Nancy commented. “This time he’s really going to kill us!” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Nancy wished she could take them back. They’d come out sounding much more sinister than she’d meant. “Hey, what do you think, Ned? Could this be one more of Luke’s planned ‘accidents’?”
Ned groaned. “I bet you’re right. Brakes don’t usually just fail like that.”
“And Luke’s the most obvious person, isn’t he? I mean, he’s always involved somehow—his skis, his Jeep, the rope tow he was supposed to take care of—Wait, I hear something,” Nancy exclaimed excitedly.
Behind them a motor sounded faintly. It grew louder, and then headlights swept around the curve. Nancy and Ned jumped out of the road, then started waving madly at the driver. The car slowed to a stop.
“Don’t tell me you two tried to walk,” Michael’s voice said. Then he added in a shocked tone, “Was that your wreck I just passed? What happened?”
Nancy shook her head. “Something went wrong with the brakes.” She shuddered.
“How did you get the thing to stop?” Michael asked gently.
“Nancy ran it up on a fallen tree,” Ned said proudly. “If it weren’t for that, neither one of us would be alive.”
Michael frowned. “I thought Luke was going to take the Jeep back from you.”
“He never found Ned,” Nancy explained. “I think when you mentioned Dieter Mueller, he just got too upset to worry about it.” She waited curiously for Michael’s reaction.
Michael gave a short, mirthless laugh. “This is exactly the kind of thing I tried to warn you about, Nancy.”
Ned’s eyes narrowed. “Suppose you spell it out.”
“Carelessness with his equipment—or dangerous jokes. Especially to get even with people who annoy him. People who take his wheels without asking, for instance.”
“Some joke,” Ned said.
Hmm, Nancy thought, something funny is going on here. Michael didn’t mention dangerous pranks before. . . .
“Maybe it wasn’t a joke,” Michael said. He turned to Nancy. “Your friend said you’re a detective. How much digging around into Ericsen’s past have you been doing?”
“All I know is what you’ve told me,” Nancy said evasively. “I certainly didn’t come to Webb Cove to find Luke, if that’s what you’re suggesting. I came to ski.”
Michael looked sternly at Nancy for a moment. Then he broke into a charming grin. “What I really should suggest is that you two get out of this wind before the snow gets any worse. Come on. Hop in the car and I’ll drive you to the lodge.”
“Fantastic,” Nancy said gratefully, pushing Luke’s “accidents” and Michael’s changing story about them to the back of her mind.
“Thanks,” Ned added as they piled into the car.
By the time they reached Webb Cove, the blizzard had begun in earnest—with the promise of much, much more snow to come.
Lights glowed from every window of the lodge as they approached it, and two cars loaded with luggage, skis, and people were pulling out.
Ned stepped out of the car slowly, wincing as he put his weight on his bad ankle. “This is already beginning to swell up again,” he said. “I’d better get off it.” He leaned over and gave Nancy a kiss before hobbling inside.
Nancy eased herself out of the car. She had a lot of questions to ask Michael, but she didn’t know how to put them into words. He was so nice and straightforward, yet she couldn’t help but realize that there was something strange—and maybe a little ominous—about his relationship to Luke.
Michael got out of the car. “It’s really beginning to come down, isn’t it?” he said, flashing Nancy one of his heartwarming smiles and motioning to the whirling snow around them.
“Should mean good skiing,” Nancy replied, grinning.
“Sure, when it stops in a few days and the sun comes out.”
Nancy’s grin vanished. “But until then, we’ll probably be stuck here—snowed in. No one will be able to get in to us, and we won’t be able to get out.”
Nancy took a deep breath. “And the way you’ve been talking, it sounds like you think Luke is . . . insane. So before we get stuck in the lodge with him, I want you to stop hinting around about him and tell me straight!”
“I have no proof, Nancy, but I’m worried,” Michael said soberly. “Maybe you and your friends should get out of here before the storm closes down the roads. You saw those people leaving just now. They’ve got sense.
“People from out of state usually think being in Vermont during a blizzard will be great. But if the power lines go down and you have no electricity—which also means no ski lifts—it’s just awful.”
“It seems crazy to leave a ski area in the middle of a huge snowstorm,” Nancy commented.
“Well, why don’t you talk to the others about it?” Michael said.
“I will,” Nancy told him. “And why don’t you come in and wait for a break in the snow before you drive back to the Overlook?” Michael smiled and followed Nancy inside.
The lodge was warm and cheerful. A huge fire roared up the chimney in the lounge, and as they entered, George and Luke came through the back door carrying armloads of logs.
“About time you brought my Jeep back,” Luke said curtly. He noticed Michael. Nancy saw him swallow hard, then make the difficult decision to ignore him totally.
Michael raised an eyebrow. “They didn’t—”
Nancy brought her heel down on Michael’s toe. “We didn’t mean to be so late,” she finished smoothly. “Did we, Ned?”
Luke wasn’t paying attention. He dropped his load of logs on the hearth and strode back out again without a word.
“George,” Nancy said hastily, “this is the guy who rescued me when I fell, the one I wanted you to meet last night. Michael, meet George.”
Michael came forward at once with his hand out, smiling. “I hear we have a lot in common! Bess says you’re practically an Olympic skier. I’d be glad to show you some of the trickier runs around here.”
“No, thank you,” George replied coolly. Her face had taken on a closed, shuttered look that Nancy knew only too well.
“Hey, give him a chance, George,” Ned said easily. “We all know Luke’s monopolizing your time, but—”
George shrugged. She turned to Michael. “I apologize for what my friends have tried to rope you into, but Luke told me what you said this afternoon, and I just don’t think we’d get along very well.”
“Hey, now, wait a minute!” Michael said quickly. “First of all, I don’t get pushed into doing things I don’t want to do. Second, I never could turn my back on a beautiful woman in trouble.” His voice changed from flirty to serious. “You are, you know.”
Something in Michael’s voice stopped George cold. “Are what?” she asked suspiciously.
“Both. Beautiful and in trouble.”
George’s face went tight. “I don’t
want to hear this. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go help Luke. We want to get the pre-blizzard chores done. There’s supposed to be a lull in the storm this evening, and we plan to go night skiing at Lookout Ledge.” She turned on her heel.
But Nancy wasn’t about to let her friend run off that easily. She stepped in front of her and took her by the shoulders. “You are going to listen to me whether you want to or not,” she said. “There’s been another ‘accident,’ this time in Luke’s Jeep!”
Quickly she described what had happened. Bess and Gunther arrived in the middle of her story and stood listening.
George’s face went white. “Are you trying to tell me Luke’s carelessness is responsible for almost killing you and Ned?”
“It might have been carelessness,” Michael cut in. “It could have been planned. There have been too many ‘accidents’ around Luke lately.”
George stared at Michael for a moment, her eyes beginning to blaze. “Apparently Nancy didn’t tell you that I’m loyal to my friends!” she said fiercely. “And I don’t pay attention to people who are prejudiced against them. So why don’t you just take yourself back to your fancy hotel, Mr. Price! You’ve done enough to poison things around here!”
Michael gave Nancy a helpless shrug. “I tried,” he said as he walked back out to his car.
George turned on the others, tears in her eyes. “I’m surprised at you, I really am! I thought you guys would have more faith in me.”
Nancy felt frightened and helpless. George was determined to stick by Luke no matter how many people suspected him. What Nancy needed, she decided, was concrete proof, or George would never give him up.
“George, listen,” Nancy said as persuasively as possible. “Even if the guy is a saint—don’t go skiing with him tonight, not with a storm coming. He might be a good skier, but he does have a bad leg.”
“Oh, come on!” George was indignant. “Why, in the last Olympic trials—” She suddenly stopped dead, as if she’d just bitten into an apple and discovered a worm in it. Then she turned and bolted toward the door.
Nancy’s mind was churning. George had mentioned the Olympic trials. Had Luke been in them? If he had, then there were sure to be newspaper articles about him—and maybe even about poor Dieter Mueller’s death.
There have got to be copies of old ski magazines in the public library in town, Nancy told herself. They just might hold the key to the Luke Ericsen mystery. All of a sudden, Nancy felt sure that she would crack the case soon!
But the question was, could she do it before the blizzard trapped her and her friends in the lodge with her prime suspect?
Chapter
Twelve
YOU’VE GOT AN important decision to make,” Liz said to Nancy, Ned, Bess, and Gunther as they sat in front of the fireplace. “The blizzard has started. We have plenty of supplies and our own generator, but you could get snowed in here, perhaps for days. Are you going to stay or leave? All the other guests have checked out.”
“What do you think we should do?” Nancy asked.
Liz spread her hands. “I don’t like the idea of being snowed in alone with the prowler on the loose. On the other hand, I don’t want you to be marooned here, too, out of a sense of duty.”
“You won’t like what I’ve got to say,” Ned said, his face serious. “But I think we should leave—for George’s sake.”
Nancy shook her head. “You don’t really think George would come home with us now, do you? She’d insist on taking the bus home by herself at the end of the week, and staying here with Liz and Luke. We can’t leave her.”
Liz shook her head. “I feel sorry for that girl.”
Nancy sucked in her breath. “Then you think Luke’s guilty?”
Liz blushed. “Oh,” she stammered, “I don’t know. I—I guess if I really thought so, I would have fired him already. No, I feel the way George does—I want proof!”
“Against Luke?” Nancy asked.
“Yes! No . . . I mean, against whoever’s guilty. It’s the—the not knowing I can’t stand!” Liz told her. “Anyway,” she rushed on, “I think you should talk to George about leaving. The storm isn’t supposed to get really bad until tomorrow, so you’ve got the evening to figure out what you want to do.”
Dinner that night was strange with only six people at the long table. Luke had decided to skip the meal. George picked at her food, looking angry and miserable and doing her best to avoid talking to the others. At last Nancy broached the subject of leaving Webb Cove early.
“Are you kidding?” George exclaimed. “Leave Vermont in the middle of this gorgeous snowstorm? Miss all the great ski conditions? No way! You guys are crazy!”
“But, George—” Nancy began.
“Oh, no,” George cut in. “If you want to go, then go ahead. I’m staying no matter what you decide.”
Nothing any of the others said could convince George to change her mind. When the conversation turned to other subjects, she just moped again. She perked up, however, when Luke came in later. He and George spent the evening playing cards and laughing together while the others watched TV.
“At least she’s here with the rest of us, instead of out skiing in the dark with Luke!” Nancy whispered to Ned.
During the evening, the electricity flickered several times. When it went out completely for a minute, Liz groaned. “That means the county power lines are in trouble. I’ll have to go switch over to our generator.”
Luke stood up promptly. “You stay put. George and I will do it.” They pulled on their ski jackets and went out.
But they were gone fifteen, twenty, then thirty minutes. Nancy began to get worried. Murmuring an excuse, she sauntered toward the door. Ned followed. “You want to go find George?” he asked quietly.
“You know me too well,” Nancy replied. “That’s exactly what I want to do.”
“My ankle’s feeling better. Let’s both go looking,” Ned said promptly. They pulled on their jackets and, steeling themselves against the snow, plunged into the night.
Ned touched her shoulder. “Look.” He pointed in the direction of the generator shed. A faint glow shone in the darkness.
Oblivious to the rapidly growing snowdrifts, Nancy and Ned hurried toward the shed. Ned wiped some snow from a lower pane, and Nancy raised herself on tiptoe to look in.
George and Luke were sitting facing each other on a wooden bench, polishing their skis and talking earnestly. Or rather, Luke was talking, and George was listening.
All at once, George leaned forward to kiss him tenderly. In the next second they were locked in each other’s arms. Nancy and Ned turned and made their way back to the lodge in silence, feeling a little embarrassed at having spied on them.
Later that night, as Nancy lay in the dark trying to sleep, she went over the strange collection of facts, rumors, and suspicions. They were like the pieces to a jigsaw puzzle. But somehow, when Nancy tried to put them all together, they just didn’t fit. What was she missing?
Then Nancy had an odd thought. If Luke were the one causing all the ‘accidents,’ he’d done a great job of messing up his own belongings. Skis, a Jeep—they cost a lot of money. And he was making himself look awfully guilty. Would Luke really risk that just to get at Nancy and Ned? Maybe—if he really were insane.
Nancy stared into the darkness. The case seemed to revolve around Luke, but as possible killer—or intended victim? Had someone thought that Luke, not Nancy and Ned, would be using the Jeep and skis and rope tow? Then there was Liz. Nancy couldn’t discount her suspicions about insurance money. And Liz seemed unnecessarily nervous at times.
Nancy shifted uncomfortably on the bed. Every time she looked at the case from a different angle, it came apart. If only she could get a line on Luke! At least she had another clue there—George’s slip about the Olympic trials.
I’ve got to go to the library tomorrow, Nancy told herself, blizzard or no blizzard. If Luke was an Olympic hopeful, any scandal connected with him would sh
ow up in the ski magazines. That’s where I’ll find clues—I just have to!
By morning, the snow still hadn’t stopped. Nancy decided to skip breakfast and go right to the library, before they got snowed in. She asked Liz if she could borrow her cross-country skis. With her car out of commission and the roads dangerous and icy, and especially after the “accident” the day before, Nancy thought she would be safer just skiing the two and a half miles to town.
By the time Nancy reached the library, the sky was white with snow and the wind was fierce. The library was deserted except for a middle-aged librarian standing behind the checkout desk. She looked up, frowning, as Nancy entered. “We’re closing early because of the storm.”
“There’s something I have to find. It’s urgent!” Nancy gasped, out of breath from her trek. “But I’ll be quick. How long will you be here?”
“I’d better leave in ten minutes.” The woman glanced worriedly out the window. “Can I help you?”
“I need information on the last Winter Olympics trials,” Nancy said. “Magazine articles about accidents or scandals connected with it or with any of the competitors.”
The librarian stared at Nancy. “You call that urgent?” she asked.
Nancy nodded. She didn’t care if the librarian thought she was crazy. The woman disappeared into the back room and returned with several magazines. “You can’t take these out. But you can have a few minutes to make copies, if you want.” She pointed to the machine in a back corner.
Nancy ran rapidly through the tables of contents in the magazines. All covered the Olympics, and she put several aside to study later. Then she came to an issue of a skiing magazine with an article titled “Scandal on the Slopes.” Nancy began reading feverishly.
On the last night of the tryouts, the American bronze runner-up, Jon Berntsen, challenged a young German Olympic hopeful, Dieter Mueller, to a dangerous night race. It was a grudge match, fueled by an intense personal antipathy . . .
Nancy’s heart leaped when she saw Dieter Mueller’s name. But who was Jon Berntsen?