Read False Moves Online

Authors: Carolyn Keene

False Moves (10 page)

Nancy frowned back. “I'd do that, Ned,
if
I were sure they weren't the thieves!”

Ned stared at Nancy silently for a moment, his dark eyes meeting her blue ones. “Please, let's not go through this again. Not now.”

Nancy sighed. Ned was right. There was no reason to talk about it. They would both just say the same things again. Nancy felt the anger draining from her, leaving only warm feelings for Ned.

She reached over and gave his arm a friendly squeeze. “Well, whatever happens with this case, I'm glad you were here, Ned, to help me. Nobody could have handled that situation as calmly as you did!”

“Don't worry, Nancy. I'll always be there for you when you're in trouble. I promise.”

Nancy hesitated for a moment. Right then she really did feel as if she were in trouble—big trouble—over this case. She needed to get it all clear in her head. Maybe reviewing all the possibilities slowly and out loud would straighten her thoughts out. Could she ask Ned for his help? It was worth a try.

“Um, Ned, there is one little thing you could do to help me. I'd like to talk the whole case through with you—that is, if you're not busy right now.”

Ned smiled. “Sounds like fun.”

“Good,” Nancy said. “But I
am
going to have to talk about Belinda a little. Will you
promise
not to get mad at me?”

Ned smiled. “I think so—just this once at least,” he said teasingly. “But we'd better not talk
here. Come on. I saw an open room not far from here.”

Ned led the way to a large room down a corridor by itself. Tentatively, he pushed the door open and stepped into the company costume shop. After she walked in, Nancy removed a pin cushion from a stool, pulled it up close to a table, and sat down. Ned pulled another stool close to hers, and they both rested their elbows on the smooth cutting surface.

“Okay,” Ned said. “First of all, what are your clues?”

“Well, the first one's got to be somewhere in that videotape I made. I know something has to be on it that will tell me who took the pin, but I just can't see it.”

“What else have you got?”

“That piece of torn silk that we found in the costume room—I checked costumes, shoes, everything, to see if it might match. The silk could have come from either a costume or slippers that the intruder ripped up.” Nancy pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Plus,” she continued, “dance clothes and slippers have been disappearing around this place. Katya was looking for a pair of her pointe shoes, and a few of the others have lost shoes.”

“Yeah,” Ned added. “Belinda said a few of her things got stolen, too.”

“And then there are the threat letters. They
called the diamond an ‘object,' and so did Ana. I'm sure another person used that same word, but I can't remember who!”

“Those clues are all good for starters,” Ned said. “Now, how about describing your suspects to me.”

“Well, there are Ana and Andre. Their motive would be plain greed. She's a good bet because she made all the arrangements to bring the diamond here for the Raja family. And since they trust her so much, people wouldn't suspect her too easily. Another thing that makes me wonder about her is the fact that she was wearing black shoes and pants when I met her—just like the masked intruder, who was a woman. Also she was very aloof when we spoke.”

“And as you just told me, she used the word
object
when she was talking about the diamond,” Ned added.

“Right. And if Ana is involved with Andre, she would have a perfect accomplice to help her set up the elevator trap. He's strong and athletic and could have easily pulled himself up the rope.”

“Who's your next pair of suspects?”

“Belinda and James.” Nancy glanced at Ned, but he seemed okay. “Their motive would have been greed, too. Belinda was holding Katya when the lights went on after the robbery and that makes her a prime suspect.
And
she barely says a
word to me, which makes me think she may have something to hide.

“James would have had just as good a chance to set up the heist as Ana—he made all the arrangements on the American side. And I hear that both James and Belinda have a lot of money these days. I don't think James would be strong enough to pull himself up the rope, but Belinda would.”

“Sounds like circumstantial evidence to me,” Ned muttered under his breath.

“Katya and Colby are my last pair of suspects,” Nancy hurried on. “Their motive would have been the money plus getting back at James for not renewing their contracts at the end of this season. Katya acted as if the thief had hurt her during the robbery, but she could have been faking that. Colby's definitely strong enough to have been the masked intruder—and Katya is no weakling herself. Either one of them could have climbed the rope.”

“I don't think the solution to the mystery is that far away,” Ned said encouragingly. “You have quite a bit of information.”

“But not quite enough to figure the whole thing out. I'm sure everything I need to know is here, but I'm just not putting it all together right.”

“You will,” Ned said. “I'm sure you will.”

“But can I do it before the thieves find the diamond? Somewhere in all those clues is the key to the pin's hiding place. I've
got
to figure it out.”

Nancy glanced around the costume shop. Twelve almost completed lavender leotards were neatly hung on hooks. Obviously, they were new costumes for the corps dancers. She also spotted two short, pink silk camisole dresses and a man's black pants and shirt.

“Ned,” Nancy asked curiously, “do you recognize those costumes over there?” She pointed to the pink dresses and the man's outfit.

“Aren't those the costumes from Belinda, Katya, and Andre's trio?” Ned asked.

“They are!” Nancy answered.

She stood up and walked casually over to the clothing rack. She fingered one silky skirt. The hanger had Belinda's name pinned to it, and a pair of pale pink pointe shoes were slung around it.

Katya's costume was identical, except for the tear on the bodice where the jewel had been attached. Nancy looked around for her pointe shoes, but they were missing. There was a beat-up old pair of slippers in their place. Nancy knew Katya hadn't worn
those
onstage.

Andre's black outfit was made of soft cotton, and a pair of black jazz shoes was hung with it.

“Well,” Nancy commented, “if the diamond was hidden in any of these, the police definitely would have found it. The fabric is so thin that there can't be many places to hide it. But I wonder what happened to Katya's shoes? Maybe they were ruined during the search. They—”

But Nancy didn't get a chance to finish her sentence because she was interrupted by one short clicking sound at the front door. A key had been turned in the lock on the outside of the door.

Ned and Nancy rushed to the door. She twisted the knob with all her strength and gave a hard shove. The door didn't budge. She rattled the knob and pushed again. Finally she slammed her shoulder against the door even though she knew it was no use. They were locked in!

A spine-chilling laugh rang out from the other side of the door. It was a mocking laugh, evil and menacing. Then there was only the faint sound of footsteps as Nancy and Ned's jailer slipped away.

Ned angrily turned and kicked at the door a couple of times. “What do you think he's going to do to us locked up in here? Nancy, what's the point of making us prisoners in the costume shop?”

“He's just showing us that we're completely at his mercy—he's in charge. Anything can happen now, and you can bet we won't be shown any pity!”

Chapter

Thirteen

W
ELL, WHAT DO
you suggest we do?” Ned finally asked. “We can't bang on the door. No one will hear us. We could be locked in here for hours.”

“No way,” Nancy told him. “I always come prepared. Now where did I leave my purse?”

Ned spotted it and walked back to the table to scoop it up. He brought it back to her. “I suppose you've got a hacksaw in here to cut us out of this place?” he asked, joking.

“Nope. Something a lot easier to carry around than that,” she answered. Taking her purse from
Ned, she rummaged through it until she found her lock-picking kit.

“You know, Nancy,” Ned said, “it's a good thing you're honest. No one would have a chance against you if you were a thief.”

“Just call me Fast Fingers Drew,” Nancy wisecracked. She slipped an extremely thin-bladed tool resembling an ice pick into the keyhole and twisted for a few seconds until it caught. “Here, hold this pick in place while I jimmy the rest of the lock.”

Ned grasped the tool steadily as Nancy worked two other picks, one with each hand. After a couple of minutes of intensive concentration, she could feel the pins of the lock moving. A moment later it sprang open. Nancy gave the doorknob a twist, and she and Ned were free.

“I should have been an escape artist,” Nancy said, laughing.

“Actually, I think you're doing just fine as a detective,” Ned told her.

“Not on this case I'm not. I'm not at all close to solving it.”

“Nancy, we just went all over this. You've got a lot of information. More than you think. And I know that pretty soon the answers will fall into place.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he gave her a warm squeeze.

Nancy was savoring the sweet rush of emotions
that flooded over her when she glanced up to meet Ned's warm, dark eyes to see if he was experiencing the same feelings.

After returning her gaze for a couple of seconds, Ned looked away and slowly and gently removed his arm. Nancy was instantly jolted out of her reminiscing.

Still not daring to look at Nancy, Ned took a deep breath and asked quietly, “So, what's next? About the mystery, I mean.”

“I knew what you meant, Ned,” Nancy said just as quietly.

Now he looked embarrassed. He hadn't meant to let Nancy see how deeply he still cared for her.

Nancy finally broke the still lingering spell by speaking.

“Well,” she said, expelling the breath she had been holding unconsciously, “Bridgit said the dancers were too busy getting ready for their number to notice anything the night of the robbery. But I can't help feeling that they know more than they think they do. I mean, they always seem to know everything that goes on in the company.”

“It's true,” Ned agreed. “Belinda says everybody knows everyone else's business.”

“They sure found out fast enough about her getting reinstated and dancing the lead in
Giselle.
I'm almost positive they could provide the single clue that would clear up this case. They just don't know what they saw and know.”

“You could be right.”

“I'm going to check out the dancers' lounge again,” Nancy said thoughtfully. “It couldn't hurt.”

“Sounds good,” Ned said and finally found the courage to meet Nancy's gaze.

The two stared at each other silently until finally Ned took a deep breath and shrugged. “Okay, Nancy, I won't keep you from your sleuthing anymore. Good luck.” He flashed her a tight little smile before he walked out of the room and started down the hallway.

Sadly, Nancy watched him go. Her heart quickened for a second when he turned back, but he just raised his hand in a casual wave and continued on. He'd been her best friend as well as her boyfriend for so long, but now there were walls between them. Walls that just wouldn't come down. Trying to forget her sadness, Nancy hurried down the corridor toward the dancers' lounge.

When she got there, she found Katya Alexandrovna carefully applying ice to her left ankle. “Hi,” Nancy said. Despite the unpleasant scene she and Brad had had with the star ballerina and Colby, Nancy still respected her as a dancer. And Katya
had
told Colby to let them go, after all. There was no reason for Nancy to be unfriendly.

“Hello,” the dancer returned. She nodded toward the ice bag. “The ankle's acting up again. Cold is the best thing for it.”

Nancy nodded. “I know a lot of athletes use ice for muscle problems, too.”

Across the room a few of the younger female dancers were sitting around in their practice clothes. They were talking about which guys in the company were the cutest. Right then they looked like any group of teenagers getting together for an after-school gossip session. It was funny to think that they were also professional dancers.

Nancy said goodbye to Katya and crossed the room to sit on a couch near the younger dancers. It felt wonderful to be able to relax without having to worry about the masked intruder. She silently eavesdropped, listening for any clues the ballerinas might drop without realizing what they knew.

“I think Robert Sierra is pretty neat looking,” one of the girls was saying. “And his leaps are thrilling.”

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