Out of Bounds (13 page)

Edgar pointed in the direction of Pete's house. “Just leaving a note for Pete,” he said.

Nancy's eyes widened. “What's in it?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

“I haven't the foggiest idea,” Edgar quipped, putting on a funny face. “Mark asked me to bring it by.”

Mark! A light bulb went on. “Edgar, has Mark asked you to deliver any other letters to Pete's?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah.” He nodded casually. “I must have been here half a dozen times this month. They're staff schedules. Sometimes Mark forgets to give them to Pete at work.”

“I see,” Nancy said slowly. So that was how it worked. Looking at Edgar's open, innocent face, Nancy was certain that he wasn't a blackmailer, but only an unwitting tool of a clever criminal.

“Do me a favor, Edgar,” Nancy asked. “Go get that note and bring it over here.”

“Okay.” Edgar trotted back to get the note, then came back to the car. “What now?”

“Open it, and read it out loud.”

“Staff schedules are super boring, Nancy,” Edgar said. “They're just charts with—”

“This one may not be so boring,” Nancy said pointedly. “Go ahead and open it.”

“Okay,” Edgar said with a shrug. He opened the envelope, unfolded the note and read: “ ‘You'll be sorry you didn't deliver. One more
chance—five grand, tomorrow at ten
A.M.
' ” Edgar lowered the note slowly, his eyes round with amazement. “What is this? Blackmail?”

Nancy tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “You got it, Edgar.”

“But I don't get it. Why is he blackmailing Pete?” Edgar asked, scratching his head.

“I'll tell you about it later. But first I need you to help me out,” Nancy replied.

Edgar narrowed his eyes, and a grin opened up his face. “Okay, Sherlock,” he answered. “What do I have to do?”

“You can start by putting this in Pete's doorway,” she said, giving him the note she'd written for Pete.

After Edgar returned with his comical loping stride, he asked, “What now?”

“I'd like you to leave this in Mark's bag when you get to Touchdown, okay?” Nancy handed him the note addressed to Mark.

“I feel like the merry mailman,” Edgar joked. Then he read the note Nancy handed him. “ ‘I'll have your money tonight, eight-oh-five at the football field. Be on time.' ”

A sly smile lit up his face. “You're too much, Nancy,” he said. “Like I said before, you should consider becoming a detective.”

“I already am one, Edgar,” Nancy said with a small laugh. “My real name is Nancy Drew.”

Edgar's jaw dropped. “You're
Nancy Drew?”
he exclaimed. “And all this time I was working right next to you, not even knowing!”

Nancy shrugged modestly. “Can you meet me at the football field at seven-thirty? There'll be a few other people there, too.”

“I wouldn't miss it for the world,” said Edgar. “Nancy Drew, huh? I can't believe it!”

• • •

The phone was ringing when Nancy got home. “Nancy, I heard you were fired,” came the worried voice on the other end of the line.

“Yes, but it's all right, Cynthia,” Nancy told her. “I've solved the case. We're going to spring a trap tonight. Do you want to be there?”

“And how!” said Cynthia excitedly. “Who are we talking about?”

“That's something I have to tell you about—first.” Nancy told her about Rob's drug involvement and asked if she still wanted to go.

“I do because Rob needs help.”

“Meet me at the football field at seven-thirty.”

• • •

It was already very dark when Nancy, Bess, George, Cynthia, and Edgar assembled at the fifty-yard line. Nancy looked around at all their faces. Everyone was serious and determined.

“Okay,” Nancy told them. “Here's the plan. First, we all hide under the bleachers.”

“All in one place?” Bess wanted to know.

“No,” Nancy answered quickly. “I'll be in the
middle, at the fifty-yard line. You guys space yourselves out every ten yards or so. That way, no matter what gets said, somebody's sure to hear it. Also, try to stay in eye contact with one another.”

“What exactly are we supposed to listen for?” Edgar asked.

“Anything. A good witness remembers everything. Some of what you hear may be pretty shocking, but no matter what happens, don't move or make a sound until I signal you. Understand?”

“Got it, Nan,” said George, shooting her friend a special smile. George had helped Nancy many times before, and Nancy knew she could trust her totally.

“It's a quarter to eight,” Nancy announced, glancing at her watch. “Let's go.”

From her position behind the bleachers, Nancy was pretty sure she'd be able to hear and see everything on the field when the others showed up. She was right. At about eight, two hulking figures came walking toward them from the parking lot.

“I could kill the guy,” Lonnie Price muttered as he and Bill Ellman strode across the field to the fifty-yard line. “I mean, who does he think he is, backing out at a time like this?”

Standing nervously next to him, Bill asked, “Do you think he'll rat on us to the coach?”

“He'd better not,” Lonnie growled in reply. “What time is it?”

“Just about eight,” Bill answered. “There's Pete's car. He's parking.”

A few minutes later Nancy saw Pete and Doc appearing at the edge of the field. A smile crossed her face as she watched them approach. So Doc had risen to the bait. But where was Rob? It was past eight now, and he still wasn't there.

“Hi, guys,” said Pete warily. “What are you doing here at this time of night?”

“What do you mean, ‘What are we doing here?' ” Lonnie asked, challenging him.
“You
told us to show up here at eight!”

“I did not!” Pete said, astonished.

“Yeah, right,” Bill snorted in disbelief. “If you didn't, who did? Your friend here?”

“Oh, this is Doc, by the way.”

“Doc what?” asked Lonnie.

“Just Doc to you,” said Doc, in a condescending tone of voice. “I'm the source of your success, if you get my meaning.”

Nancy shot a quick glance over at Cynthia, who had her hand to her mouth in shock.

“Be nice to Doc,” Pete told the boys. “You wouldn't want to be left high and dry before the Carlisle game, would you? Where's Rob, by the way?”

“He punked out,” Bill explained.

Doc spoke out. “Should we be worried about him?” he asked.

“I don't know,” said Lonnie. “But listen, if you didn't write those notes to us, who did?”

Pete shuffled around a bit. “I haven't the vaguest idea. Probably the same person who told me to be here.”

“And just who is that?” Lonnie asked.

“I really don't know,” Pete admitted. “See, boys, somebody's been onto us for the past few weeks, and, well, I've had to pay him off.”

“Blackmail?” asked Bill.

“That's right,” said Doc. “He knows about the steroids, and he's holding it over us.”

“Does he know about our contracts with you, Pete?” Lonnie asked.

“No, and he's not going to find out, either. When you boys are big, and I'm getting ten percent of each of you, the money he's getting now won't look like much. If he knew about our contractual agreements, he'd be asking for a lot more money than he is now.”

“He should be here any minute,” Doc added. “He thinks he's going to collect his final payment.” Nancy heard the man laugh in a menacing tone. “He is, in a way.”

“Maybe Bill and I shouldn't be here,” Lonnie hedged.

“You stay right where you are, and be quiet,”
Doc commanded him. “You two are in this up to your necks, and you're not backing out now.”

The four men came over and sat on the bleachers less than two feet from Nancy, waiting for the blackmailer to show up. She held her breath as the boards creaked over her head. Stealing glances to her left and right, she saw the looks of surprise on the faces of her friends. They all had their eyes on her, waiting for her to give the signal.

“Hello, over there!” called a voice from across the field. The four sitting figures in front of Nancy rose to their feet as one.

“Mark!” Pete gasped. “I should have known it was you. You rotten snake, I ought to—”

“Hello, Pete,” said Mark cheerfully as he approached the fifty-yard line. “And Doc, too. What a pleasant surprise. You don't know me, but I know you. Hello, boys,” he greeted the players. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“You crumb,” Pete snarled, stepping down from the bleachers to meet Mark head on. “You've got a lot of nerve, you know that?”

“I wouldn't talk if I were you,” said Mark. “Providing steroids to minors isn't exactly in the Boy Scout manual, Pete. Neither is stealing from your own restaurant. The corporation wouldn't take kindly to that, you know.”

“You tell them, and I'll kill you!” Pete raged, grabbing Mark's lapels.

“Let go of me, you ape,” Mark said with a gasp. “Doc, call off your dog. He can't seem to see his own self-interest, even when it stares him in the face.”

Pete loosened his grip. “What does he mean, Doc?” he asked, still looking at Mark.

“He means,” Doc said, “that we must all hang together, or we shall all hang separately.”

“Exactly,” said Mark, smoothing his shirt after Pete let him go. “Now, you should have a payment for me, right? Five thousand dollars, wasn't it?”

“I couldn't get it on so little notice,” Pete snarled. “Why did you tell these guys to show up, anyway?” he added, pointing to Lonnie and Bill.

“What are you talking about?” Mark snapped, “I never told them to show up. Besides, I left you a note days ago and told you to put the payment in the P.O. box. When it wasn't there, I sent that idiot Edgar over to your house with the other note, about tomorrow. Then you wrote me that you'd have the money tonight. Make up your mind, Pete.”

“I never wrote you any note,” Pete said incredulously.

Mark looked at him briefly, a look of anxiety
spreading over his face. “Wait a minute,” he said slowly. “If you didn't write me a note, who did?”

Nancy looked left and right again, wondering where the police were. They were late. Everyone was ready, so Nancy decided to proceed. Raising her hand, she gave a signal for the others to sit tight. Then, taking a deep breath, she straightened up and walked out from under the bleachers.

“
I
wrote the note,” said Nancy, calmly facing the startled group. “By the way, I heard everything you said just now,” she announced, looking at them one by one.

“You!” Pete gasped.

“That's right,” she repeated coolly. Nancy listened for any sign of the police arriving. So far, nothing. Hurry, Chief, she prayed.

“Let me at her,” Lonnie spat, his fists clenched cock hard. “I'll kill her if I have to!”

“Stay away from her!” cried Edgar, suddenly jumping out from behind the bleachers and tackling Lonnie.

“Edgar, no!” Nancy cried out. Forced to keep her attention on the other three, Nancy was unable to come to Edgar's aid as Lonnie grabbed Edgar by the neck.

“Hurting Edgar isn't going to do a thing for you!” Nancy yelled at Lonnie. “Face it. The game is over and you lost.”

“No, young lady,” Doc contradicted her in a menacing tone. “I'm afraid you've got it all wrong. The game's not over till it's over.”

With that, Doc reached into his inside jacket pocket. Nancy stared in horror as the man pulled out a small silver pistol and aimed it right at Edgar!

B
EFORE
N
ANCY COULD REACT
, George flew out from under the bleachers, knocking Doc's arm away from Edgar's head. As the gun hurtled through the air, it discharged, leaving an acrid smell as it landed somewhere on the dark field.

“George!” Nancy said gratefully.

George was hanging oh Doc's back. She and Edgar were both wrestling him to the ground. Bess and Cynthia also emerged from the bleachers, rushing to help.

Nancy's eyes shot to Pete, who was just about to move in to help Doc.

“Bess!” Nancy shouted. “Get him!”

Instantly Nancy and Bess ran at Pete, tackling him in perfect football fashion.

Red-faced and dogged, Bess struggled to hold on to Pete's ankles, taking a few kicks in the process, as Nancy tried to pin his arms. Just then the sweet music of police sirens sounded in the distance.

“You're not going anywhere,” Nancy told the squirming Pete as she bent his arm behind his back and held it there.

“Nancy, look! Lonnie, Bill, and Mark—they're running away!” Bess shouted in distress.