heard the computer whir and beep. She glanced at the
wafer-thin screen and did a double take.
“Unbelievable,” Nancy murmured, watching the
intricate spirals of blue, green, yellow, and purple twist
around the perimeter of Dennis's screen.
She grabbed George's arm, bending close to whisper
in her ear. “Those are the same graphics I saw on the
threat that was sent to Mr. Lorenzo's computer!”
7. Elusive Clues and Slippery Suspects
“What should we do?” George whispered back.
“I'm going to talk to him,” Nancy said.
She was next to Dennis in three long strides. “Hi,
guys,” she said, keeping her voice as casual as she
could. “Those are really cool graphics, Dennis. Did you
program them yourself?”
Dennis's eyes jumped from Nancy to George, who
was in line at the food counter a few yards away. His
mouth curved up in a cocky smile as he asked, “Did
your teammates send you here to spy on the compe-
tition?”
He hadn't answered her question, Nancy noticed. “I
like your colorful spirals, that's all. Did you program
them yourself?” she asked again.
One of the red-haired twins answered. Nancy wasn't
sure whether it was Jake or Philip. “The guy's a
magician on the computer,” he said, shrugging his
parka onto his chair back as he nodded at Dennis.
That made Dennis the most likely person to have
sent the threat to Mr. Lorenzo, but not the sabotage.
Nancy knew she couldn't go back to Mr. Lorenzo
without more concrete proof.
“One of George's bindings broke loose while we
were skiing for the second clue,” she said. She watched
Dennis closely while she told him about the broken tip
of the screw that had popped loose. “The funny thing
is, the screwdriver and file were both missing from Mr.
Lorenzo's tools,” she finished.
“I'm sure Randy Cohen documented the whole
dramatic event for his article,” Dennis said. The sar-
casm in his voice made Nancy bristle.
“You still think C.J. would sabotage the Challenge
for publicity?” She waved a hand toward the platform
where C.J., Ned, and Grant sat. “He sprained his own
ankle!”
Dennis didn't bother to respond. “Where's C.J.'s
shadow?” he asked as his eyes focused on the Omega
table. “Maybe Randy figured out C.J. is all hot air.”
Nancy ignored the jabs at C.J. “I noticed you got
back to Sigma Pi pretty late last night,” she said to
Dennis. “Over an hour after you left the Eatery.”
“Will you quit trying to prove I'm the bad guy?”
Dennis said. “If I'm the one who's behind all this so-
called sabotage, then why was our team the last to find
the second clue? I mean, wouldn't the idea be to make
sure our team gets ahead?”
He had a point, Nancy thought. Still, there was
something about the way he avoided her questions that
bothered her.
Nancy's eyes fell on Dennis's computer bag. It lay
unzipped on the floor next to his chair.
“Well, sorry to bother you,” she said. “See you guys
later.”
As she turned away, Nancy made sure her boot
caught on the strap of Dennis's computer bag. She
tripped forward, and a jumble of things spilled from
the bag.
“Sorry!” she fibbed, crouching down next to the bag.
“I'll put it back.”
She kept her eyes open for soap, or a file and
screwdriver among the notebooks, pens, binoculars,
gloves, and papers. Before she could touch a thing,
though, Dennis had leaned over and scooped every-
thing back into the bag.
“Now, if you don't mind, we've got a clue to work
on,” he said.
Nancy had no choice but to rejoin George at the
food counter.
“So?” George asked.
“He's too slick to answer direct questions about the
threat and sabotage,” Nancy said. Her focus stayed on
Dennis as she and George got hot chocolate and
carried the tray up to their table.
“Too bad I can't keep this close an eye on Dennis all
the time,” she murmured. She placed the tray on their
table, then glanced back over the railing at the Sigmas.
“From up here we really have a good view of—”
She broke off suddenly and snapped her fingers.
“That's it!”
Ned blew on his steaming cocoa, glancing curiously
across the table at her. “What's it?” he asked.
“I get the clue—part of it, anyway. I think I know
why baseball is for the birds,” she said. “It's because we
need to get a bird's-eye view before we can solve the
clue. That's why a high fly scores!”
George nodded, taking a fresh look at the clue. “And
a ground ball doesn't make it because you don't get the
right perspective on the ground,” she said.
“It makes sense,” C.J. said. He pointed at the
bottom of the paper. “Check out these parts about your
ears ringing, and a high fly towering over to score.”
“The bell tower!” they all said at once.
Nancy leaped to her feet, grabbing her parka and
team hat. “Let's go!”
“Watch that step,” Grant said as they made their way
up the bell tower stairs fifteen minutes later. “It could
still be slippery.”
Nancy saw C.J.'s frown as he carefully planted his
cane above the step that had been soaped. “I wish I
knew who did that. . . .” he mumbled.
“We're working on it,” Nancy assured him. “The
important thing is that the sabotage isn't working. We
still have a good chance of winning.”
“Brrrr!” George shivered as they went into the cir-
cular room at the top of the bell tower. Wind whipped
through openings in the stone wall, stirring the bells
that hung from the stone ceiling.
“Wow. You can see the whole campus from here.”
George said as she stared through one of the openings.
“Not to mention the town,” said Grant. After taking
a pair of binoculars from his backpack, he looked out
the other side of the tower. “Hmm. Isn't that Randy?”
Nancy borrowed the binoculars and spotted Randy,
with his bright yellow parka and white-blond hair, just
opening the door to SportsMania.
“It's him, all right.” Nancy frowned, watching as
Randy disappeared inside the store. “It's funny that he
suddenly stopped sticking so close to you, C.J.,” she
commented. “I wonder what he's doing?”
“Um, guys? We're supposed to be finding the next
clue, remember?” George said dryly. “Shouldn't we
look for Needlenose on First, Flying Colors on Second,
and North Point on Third?”
Shaking herself, Nancy joined Ned, George, and
Grant on the other side of the tower.
“Look!” George pointed to a tall antenna at the top
of the science center. “Do you think that c
ould be the
needlenose?”
“It looks more like a needle than anything else I
see,” Nancy said. “And if that's first base . . .”
She looked farther out over the campus, trying to
spot something that could be flying colors. “The flag!”
she crowed, pointing to the top of the Student Center.
“It's in about the right place for second base.”
Ned and Grant immediately turned to look for third
base. “The North Chapel!” Ned cried, pointing to an
ornate spire that rose up from a stone building near the
dorms.
“So home base would have to be opposite the flag,
and closer to us than the chapel spire or the antenna.”
“The administration building?” George suggested.
The four-story brick building was down a small slope
from the bell tower. Nancy lifted the binoculars to get
a close-up view.
That was when she spotted Joy, in her red jacket,
halfway up the side of the building. Her body was bent
in a V, with her feet pressed flat against the bricks and
her hands holding on to a drainpipe that rose vertically
from the ground to the eaves of the building. Sunlight
glinted off a plastic snowflake that hung from a window
ledge just above her head.
“The next clue is there!” she said. “But so are the
Deltas.”
The Omega team got rock-climbing shoes, har-
nesses, and ropes from the Clues Challenge head-
quarters at the Sports Complex. By the time they got to
the administration building, the Deltas were gone.
“Joy used the drainpipe to hoist herself up,” Nancy
said, letting her backpack drop to the snowy ground.
“She wasn't wearing a harness or anything, but. . .” She
stared up at the sheer brick facade of the building,
broken only by windows. The snowflake, hanging from
a third-story window, seemed impossibly high. Huge
icicles hung from the eaves. Some of them almost as
tall as she was. “It looks pretty dangerous.”
“I can do it,” Grant said. “I've done lots of rock
climbing. As long as I have good traction, it'll be a
piece of cake.”
Nancy was glad to see that the gloves Grant pulled
on had a rubberized palm. His climbing boots were
flexible, with textured rubber soles that stretched
around to cover the sides of his feet and toes. Taking a
deep breath, Grant stepped onto the wall with one
foot. It held firm against the bricks as he hoisted
himself up on the drainpipe with his hands, angling his
body out in a V.
“Good luck,” George said.
Nancy watched silently, not wanting to do anything
to break his concentration. She hardly dared breathe.
“Keep it up,” C.J. murmured as Grant climbed
slowly and steadily past the second-story windows.
“You can . . .”
All of a sudden he frowned. “Did you guys see
something move up on the roof?”
Nancy shaded her eyes with her hand. “Yes!” She
gasped as something flashed above the eaves. It looked
like an arm, but the sun made it hard to see clearly.
Crack!
“What—”
Nancy didn't have time to finish her question. A
huge icicle broke free from the eave and plummeted
right toward Grant's head.
8. Look Out!
Moving instinctively, Nancy grabbed her backpack and
hurled it at the brick wall as high and as far as she
could. Her eyes were locked on the deadly point of the
icicle that was falling toward Grant's head.
With a thump the backpack slammed into the icicle,
then ricocheted off the bricks and fell to the ground.
“Hey!” Grant flinched as chunks of ice rained down
on him. His hands slipped on the drainpipe. For one
awful moment his body swerved unsteadily. Nancy
feared he would lose his grip altogether, but somehow
he managed to get a steady grip with his hands and
feet.
“Wh-what happened?” he asked, his face white.
George, Ned, and C.J. stood frozen in shock as
Nancy vaulted toward the main entrance of the ad-
ministration building.
“Someone knocked that icicle off the roof,” she
called over her shoulder. “I'm going to find out who!”
“Wait up! I'm coming,” Ned called.
They raced up the central staircase to the fourth
floor. Nancy paused breathlessly at the top of the stairs.
There was a seating area with plants and windows that
overlooked the quad. The place was deserted.
Not surprising, Nancy thought. People wouldn't be
working in the administration building on the weekend.
Hallways led left and right, but she didn't see any way
to the roof.
“This way!” Ned said, and led them past half a dozen
doorways to a stairwell at the end of the hall.
“Footprints.” Nancy pointed to wet boot prints on
the stairs above them.
She pushed through a metal door to the roof and
looked around. No one was in sight, but a trail of prints
led through the deep snow to a raised parapet along
the roof's edge and then back to the door.
Nancy hustled through the snow to the parapet and
peered over the edge. Directly below her, she saw
Grant had made his way down the wall to the ground.
At least he was safe.
“Hey, Nancy!” Ned called from behind her. “Look
what I found.”
She turned to see him bent over the snow a few feet
from the door. Ned straightened up, holding out a
slender tool in his gloved hand.
“A file,” Nancy breathed.
“And this,” Ned added, holding up a green glove in
his other hand. “Whoever was up here must have
dropped them.”
“Which means that whoever knocked the icicle off is
the same person who filed the tip off the screw from
George's binding.” Nancy walked back over to him,
took the file and glove, and put them in the pocket of
her parka. “Come on. Maybe we can still find the
person.”
Ned and she made their way back down the stairs to
the fourth floor. “Too bad the footprints have dried
out,” she said. “We'll have to guess which way the
person went.”
“There are three stairways,” Ned said. “This one, the
main stairs we used to get up to the fourth floor, and
another stairway at the end of the other hall. I'll go this
way.”
“I'll take the main stairs. Meet you at the bottom!”
Nancy pulled open the door to the fourth-floor
hallway. For a moment she stood there, watching and
listening. Goose bumps popped out on her arms and
legs. She was struck by the uneasy feeling that
someone was there.
“Hello?” she said, but all she heard in reply was the
sound of her own breathing.
Shaking herself once, Nancy moved quickly down
the hall. She tried each door she passed. Bursars Of-
fice, Student Records, Fi
nancial Aid . . . They were all
locked.
She was just about to start down the center stairs
when a voice coming from the other hallway made her
stop.
“I could have gotten in big trouble last night.”
Nancy jerked her head around. I know that voice!
she thought.
Hardly daring to breathe, she tiptoed down the hall
toward the sound. Just beyond a rest room door was a
bank of old-fashioned phone booths set into the wall.
Three of the four booths were empty. But a half-open
backpack and red parka spilled through the doorway of
the fourth booth. As Nancy drew closer, she recognized
Joy's blond hair. Joy's face was turned away from
Nancy, but the tone of her voice was clearly annoyed.
“Okay, okay,” Joy said into the receiver. “We'll meet
again. But this time don't let me down.”
In a single efficient motion, Joy slammed the re-
ceiver into its cradle and swung her arm around to
scoop up her things. She was halfway out of the phone
booth when she saw Nancy.
“Oh.” She paused uncertainly. “I didn't know anyone
was—”
Joy stopped talking and stared at the green glove
that stuck out of Nancy's jacket pocket.
“Hey! Isn't that—”
She shoved her hands into her own jacket pockets,
then blinked in confusion when she pulled out only one
glove.
“What are you doing with my other glove?” she
demanded. Nancy was surprised by her accusing tone.
Joy acted as if she was suspicious of Nancy, instead of
the other way around.
“I found it on the roof,” Nancy said. “Right after
someone knocked an icicle from the eaves that nearly
skewered Grant.”
Joy blinked. “You don't think I. . . No way,” she said,
shaking her head firmly. “I haven't even been on the
roof.”
“Well, someone was. And you're the only one
around.” Nancy glanced up and down the deserted
hallway. “What are you doing here all by yourself?
Shouldn't you be with your team?”
Joy yanked the zipper of her backpack closed. “I
don't have to put up with your third degree,” she said,
tugging on her parka and slipping her backpack over
her shoulder. “And I won't stand for your making
trouble for me.”
“My team is the one being affected by the sabotage,”
Nancy pointed out. “C.J. hurt his ankle slipping on the