Out of Bounds (2 page)

The noise in the place was overwhelming. Long lines of thrilled fans stood at the counters, placing orders and excitedly discussing Bedford's victory.

Behind the food counter a tall, thin beanpole of a guy waved to Cynthia and flashed her a goofy grin. He looked silly in his kelly green Touchdown jersey, with its big number 42. Cynthia waved back.

“That's Edgar Chessman,” she told the girls. “He's my best friend at this place. Makes a mean block-and-tackle sandwich, too,” she added.

Edgar approached them, his grin fading. “A little warning, Cynthia,” he whispered. “Pete's on the warpath today. Be cool, okay?”

Cynthia looked puzzled. “That's all right. I'm off today, Edgar,” she said.

“Still, I just wanted you to know,” he answered, looking over his shoulder at the other side of the restaurant, where two men were obviously having a heated conversation.

“Pete Shepard runs this place for American Theme Restaurant Corporation,” Cynthia explained. “That's him over there—the big redheaded guy with the mustache.”

“The one who looks like he's yelling?” asked Bess.

“That's Pete,” said Cynthia with a knowing sigh.

“Who's the other guy?” asked George, pointing to the guy with dark curly hair that Pete was shouting at.

“Him? Oh, that's Mark Gatwin, the assistant manager,” Cynthia said. “He's nice—a lot nicer than Pete, that's for sure.”

Almost as if he'd heard her, Pete turned in their direction just then. “There she is!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs, pointing at Cynthia. His small eyes were flashing angrily. Shoving Mark aside, he marched over to the girls' table.

“What's the matter, Pete? What's wrong?” Cynthia asked, her pretty face full of concern.

“Don't play dumb with me, Tyler!” Pete boomed. “You know what's wrong!”

Cynthia cast a worried look at Nancy and Bess before turning back to Pete. “Sorry, Pete, but I don't. Really.”

“I'm talking about the fact that you're a thief!” He said loudly enough for most of the onlookers
to hear. “You stole money from this restaurant!”

“Th-that's not true,” the cheerleader stammered.

“Don't bother to deny it, Cynthia,” Pete stated flatly. “I've got proof. Don't show up for work anymore. Got it?
You're fired!”

P
ETE STARED HARD
at Cynthia, who shrank from his powerful gaze. George shot Nancy a questioning look as Bess touched Cynthia's arm supportively.

“I am not a thief!” Cynthia managed to get out.

“Not only are you a thief, you're a liar, too!” Pete shouted. “Get out. Now!”

“Excuse me, excuse me,” the accused girl murmured, pushing her way through the crowd to flee from the restaurant. Bess had thrown down her napkin and was running after her, Nancy and George on her heels.

They stepped outside to find Cynthia leaning
against the building around the corner from the restaurant entrance. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

“What a jerk that guy is!” Bess fumed, trying to comfort her friend. “I mean, talk about hostile!”

“It's probably just a mistake, Cynthia,” George said. “Maybe the money was misplaced.”

Cynthia shook her head. “I don't think so,” she said, stopping to catch her breath first. “Edgar told me last week that a lot of money was missing. Then Pete fired Erica Dawson, and we all thought that would be the end of it.”

Nancy riveted her attention on the girl. “Wait—Pete already fired someone
else
for stealing?”

“Last week,” said Cynthia, nodding sadly. “It's weird, isn't it?”

“I'll say,” said Nancy. “Did he press charges against the girl he fired?”

“No. He threatened to, but when her folks hired a lawyer, he dropped everything,” Cynthia answered, brushing a stray tear from her eye. “I really need that job, too.”

“Cynthia's been saving for college,” Bess explained. “Ooh, the nerve of that rat. She's no more guilty than you or me.”

“I'd never steal! I couldn't live with myself if I did!” Utterly defeated, Cynthia slumped back against the wall, her head hanging.

“There's got to be a way to find out what's really going on,” Nancy said, touching the cheerleader's hand comfortingly.

“You think so?” Cynthia asked, raising her head.

“Of course,” echoed George.

“That's right,” Bess said. “Everyone's innocent until proven guilty.”

“But Cynthia can't prove she's innocent,” George said. “Unless Pete presses charges, the case will never come to court. It'll remain an ugly rumor and continue to hurt Cynthia's reputation.”

“That's true. Erica's been looking all over town for a job,” Cynthia said, a sudden catch in her voice. “Nobody will hire someone who's been fired for stealing. Bedford isn't that big, and everyone hears everything eventually.”

“Cynthia, do you think Erica really took money from Touchdown?” Nancy asked.

Cynthia's blue eyes focused someplace over Nancy's head as she thought a minute. “When she was fired, I was shocked. I mean, I couldn't believe it, but Pete said he had proof—”

“He might not have had proof, if he didn't press charges,” Nancy pointed out.

“I'll bet Nancy's right!” Bess threw in. “Pete was probably lying!”

“And he can't have proof that
I
stole, because I
didn't!” Cynthia insisted through fresh, hot tears.

“There's something very strange going on here,” Nancy murmured. “The best thing would be for me to take a job at Touchdown and find out what it is.”

Cynthia gulped hard. “Would you? Would you really do that for me?”

Nancy realized the three girls were staring expectantly at her.

“You'd only have to work there until you found out what was going on,” Bess said, urging her on.

“Okay,” said Nancy. “I'm not a great waitress, but I'd hate to see Pete get away with this.”

“Look at this face,” Bess said, breaking the heavy mood of the moment by holding Cynthia's face in her hands and turning it from side to side. “Is this the face of a thief? No way!”

Cynthia couldn't help breaking out in a small smile. “Gosh, Nancy. Bess was telling me how terrific you were and all—”

“Hey! There's the girl who stole the money!” Two guys in denim jackets turned the corner of Touchdown and were looking directly at Cynthia. Their faces were plastered with big phony smiles, and they held out their hands, palms up.

“You got some for us?” one of the boys asked, rubbing his fingers against his thumb.

“Come on,” said Nancy, taking Cynthia's elbow.
“Let's go to my car where we can have some privacy.”

Bess, George, Cynthia, and Nancy walked over to the Mustang, trying to ignore Cynthia's tormentors.

“Don't worry, Cynthia,” Bess said, opening the door and sliding into the back seat. “Now that Nancy's on the case, it's as good as solved.”

“Bess is my biggest fan. Now, tell me everything,” Nancy said, facing Cynthia, who was seated beside her in the front. “About Touchdown, Pete, Mark, that guy Edgar—everybody.”

“Well,” Cynthia began, “when I first got the job, everything was cool. Pete was friendly, Mark was friendly. Everybody got along. Then things started to change.”

“When did they start to change?” Nancy probed.

Cynthia thought for a moment. “I guess it was around the beginning of football season,” she said finally. “Pete started getting grouchy, then he became kind of paranoid. He started yelling at us whenever we did any little thing wrong.”

Cynthia looked as if she was about to start crying again. Without prompting Bess passed a tissue up to her.

“What else do you know about Pete?” Nancy asked gently.

Cynthia took a deep breath. “Let's see—he's a football nut. I guess that was pretty obvious by
the club's decor. He was a star at Bedford seven years ago.” Cynthia's blue eyes were fixed, staring out the windshield at nothing.

“He's built like a football player, that's for sure,” George observed.

“Did he have a college or pro career?” Nancy asked.

“According to Rob, he had a bad injury his first year of college, and he never played after that.”

“You mean Rob knows Pete?” Bess inquired.

“Oh, sure,” Cynthia said, turning around to face Bess. “Pete's tight with all the guys on the team. He's like a groupie. Always gives them bags of goodies to take home when they leave Touchdown, that kind of thing.”

“What else, Cynthia?” Nancy asked.

Cynthia wound a lock of hair around her finger, corkscrew style, as she thought. “Rob said he tried to be a sports agent after he left college. He still handles a couple of not very successful pro players on the side, but I don't think he really makes any money at it.”

At that moment a horn honked close to them, making them all jump. “It's the guys!” Bess blurted out.

Rob and Bill were waving out the open passenger-side windows, and Lonnie was driving. Cynthia quickly checked her reflection in the mirror on Nancy's visor.

“Do I look like I've been crying?” she asked, turning to Nancy.

“Not really,” Nancy lied, taking in Cynthia's red-rimmed eyes.

“Hey, there!” Bill shouted as Lonnie steered his car into a space. All three guys seemed to be in great spirits.

“Please,” Cynthia said quickly, scanning the girls' faces. “Don't mention all this, okay? Not yet, anyway. I don't want to spoil their good time—not right now.”

“Don't worry,” Bess told her. “We won't say a word. You can tell them when you have to.”

Cynthia flashed them all a quick smile. “Now, come on,” Bess urged. “Let's say hi to the guys.” With that she opened the car door and got out. Nancy, George, and Cynthia followed her lead.

Cynthia Tyler really was a sweet girl, Nancy thought. She promised herself then and there to help solve the mystery of the missing money and clear Cynthia's name.

“All right!” called the guys as they tumbled out of Lonnie's car. They raised their fists in the air and shouted into the rosy twilight, “We're number one!”

Their breath preceded them in soft white puffs as they sauntered, shoulder to shoulder, up to the girls. Cynthia stood waiting with a big smile on her face. Though her expression was obviously
strained, Nancy could tell that Rob was too caught up in his own victory to notice.

“Hey, Bess,” Bill said, greeting her with a cozy arm tossed over her shoulder and a quick nuzzle. Bess's face lit up from ear to ear in a dazzling smile.

Rob looked pale, but otherwise he appeared to have recovered from his earlier knockdown. He planted a kiss on Cynthia's lips and gave her an affectionate squeeze.

“Nancy and George,” said a grinning Bess, “this is Rob and Lonnie.”

“Hi,” the guys said, each in turn, taking in Nancy and George.

“Let's go celebrate,” Lonnie added, positioning himself next to George. “Your name is George?” he asked, shyly bending his handsome face toward hers.

“It's short for Georgia, but everyone calls me George,” she answered, trying to cover her embarrassment with a casual shrug.

“Okay. George. Nice to meet you,” Lonnie said, raising his eyebrows and smiling at her. “Are you coming in?”

“I think so,” George answered with a quick look at Cynthia.

Cynthia stood still for a moment, obviously trying to decide whether or not to go back in. Her forehead was creased by two tiny vertical lines.

“Come on,” said Rob. “I'm starved. Let's get a move on.” He took Cynthia's elbow to move her along.

Nancy guessed that Cynthia decided Pete wouldn't say anything to her with three of the Bedford stars as her escorts. He wouldn't want to embarrass these guys.

Sure enough, when Pete saw them, he was cool and distant to Cynthia but polite in front of the boys. “Great game, guys!” he shouted, slapping Rob on the back. “Food is on me, so order whatever you want.”

As Cynthia quickly took a seat, Pete shot her a poisonous look, which only Nancy caught.

After Pete returned to the counter, Nancy decided to try to talk to him. “Excuse me,” she said to get his attention.

“Yeah?” Pete said, giving her a quick glance.

“My name is Nancy Edwards, and I'm looking for a job. I wondered if—”

“You're Cynthia Tyler's friend, aren't you?” he asked. “Cynthia's not one of my favorite people, you know.”

“Well,” said Nancy, her response all ready, “I'm actually friends with the other two girls. I only met Cynthia today. When I saw you fire Cynthia, I thought you might need a replacement.”

“Have you ever waitressed before?” Pete asked, eyeing her carefully.