The right idea, you mean, Nancy thought. “Look, I have to go,” she said, pulling her purse up over her shoulder. “I’ll be late for work.”
With that, Nancy trotted off to the parking lot, relieved to escape Lonnie and his mean temper. As she got into her car, Nancy found herself mulling over Lonnie’s outburst. What had made him react so violently? And then made him so sweet afterward? She decided then and there to warn George to be careful. Lonnie Price was unstable, at best.
The car radio announced it was four o’clock. In a panic, Nancy realized she was already late for work! She drove to Touchdown as fast as possible without breaking the law. The last thing she needed was to be fired from Touchdown just when things were heating up.
The minute Nancy stepped through the door of the restaurant, she sensed she was in luck. Pete was nowhere in sight.
“The boss is out,” said Mark, playfully checking his watch as Nancy dashed into the restaurant. “You’re twenty minutes late, though.”
“Sorry,” said Nancy, stepping around the counter area and inside to the kitchen where the staff kept their green and white jerseys.
“Doesn’t bother me,” Mark said with a laugh. “Pete’s in charge of employee efficiency, not me. He told the corporation I had nothing to do with it.”
“Well, I’ll get to work right away,” said Nancy, pulling on the Touchdown jersey and hurrying to her position behind the counter. Not a minute later Pete walked into the restaurant.
“That was close,” Edgar Chessman whispered as he passed her on his way to the soda dispenser.
Nancy smiled out of sheer relief. “Hi, Pete,” she called out as he approached her.
“How are ya?” Pete asked, not waiting for an answer as he walked past her toward his office.
“Hey, Nancy, I need you to do me a favor,” Edgar said.
“Sure, Edgar,” Nancy said, still glad she hadn’t gotten into trouble for being so late. “What is it?”
“Someone needs to restock the ladies’ room, and, well, since you’re the only girl working right now . . .” Edgar fumbled.
“Say no more.” Nancy chuckled. “Just show me where the stuff is.”
Edgar pointed out the stockroom and covered for her while she headed for the ladies’ room. She finished and was just pulling the door shut when she heard a muffled voice coming from the direction of Pete’s office down the hall.
Curious, Nancy gingerly made her way to the end of the corridor. When she reached Pete’s office, she shot a quick glance through the small pane of glass in his door. Pete was standing at his desk holding what looked like an unopened envelope, his hand resting on the phone receiver.
He tore the envelope open and pulled out a sheet of paper. A look of pure panic crossed his face as he read it. Then he flopped down in his dark green swivel chair and rubbed his face wearily.
Nancy ducked back as Pete swiveled his chair directly toward her. The last thing she wanted was for Pete to catch her snooping. Inching back to where she could see him, she watched as he dialed his phone. Apparently, there was no answer on the other end. Tapping his fingers on the desk, Pete waited, then finally slammed the receiver back in the cradle.
Who was he trying to reach? Nancy wondered. What could the note possibly say to upset him so much?
Nancy didn’t have time to figure it out, however. Pete suddenly stood up and stuffed the letter into his pocket. His jaw clenched, he headed for the door.
Nancy looked around for an escape route, but there was none. A pay phone was just across the corridor. She made a move for it, intending to pick up the receiver and pretend to be talking.
Before she could make her dash, though, Nancy felt a hand grip her arm, slowly tightening its grasp. She turned to meet Pete’s icy eyes boring into hers.
When he spoke, Pete’s voice was menacing and cold. “I think you’ve got some explaining to do, Nancy Edwards,” he said. “What were you doing spying on me just now?”
Chapter
Eight
SPYING ON YOU?” Nancy managed to say, giggling like a young schoolgirl. “I was just coming back from the ladies’ room.”
“Oh, really?” Pete grunted. Nancy held her breath and watched him decide whether or not he believed her. Finally he relented. “Well, get back to work,” he said gruffly. “And don’t let me catch you near my office again.”
With that, he strode toward the restaurant. Nancy’s heart pounded wildly as she followed him out of the corridor.
As she slid back behind the counter, Nancy overheard Pete talking to Mark by the far register, where Mark was going over receipts.
“I want you to take over for today, Mark,” Pete was saying. “I’ve got to go somewhere.”
“You’re going?” Mark repeated in amazement. “But you just got here!”
“Just take care of things,” Pete snapped, grabbing his coat before barreling out of the restaurant.
Nancy looked out a side window as Pete hurried across the parking lot to his white car with its gold and blue Bedford Bear bumper sticker. If only she could find out where he was going in the middle of a workday, she thought, frustrated. She was sure his leaving had something to do with the note he’d just read, but how could she follow him to prove it? She was just beginning her shift and couldn’t walk out. Or could she?
Looking over at Mark, she quickly improvised a plan.
“Um, Mark? Could I talk to you a minute?” Nancy asked anxiously. If she was going to follow Pete, she didn’t have a moment to lose.
“Sure, Nancy,” Mark said, giving her a wide grin. “What’s up?”
“Oh, Mark,” Nancy lamented breathlessly. “I know this is terrible, but I just called home, and my dad reminded me that I was supposed to pick up my aunt and uncle at the airport today. I said I’d do it before I got the job here, and they’re really depending on me.” Nancy made sure to emphasize her speech with heavy sighs and guilty, uncomfortable looks.
“Can’t your dad pick them up, Nancy?” Mark asked reasonably.
“Well, he would, but he can’t drive,” Nancy said, thinking fast. “He broke his ankle a couple of weeks ago on a fishing trip.”
Through the front windows, Nancy saw Pete’s car pull out of the parking lot, then turn left onto Bedford Avenue. Nancy nibbled a finger nervously. “I know I should have told you before, but I completely forgot about it,” she added helplessly.
The assistant manager let out a sigh. “Go,” he said simply. “But try to be back as soon as possible, okay?”
“Thanks a million, Mark,” Nancy said jubilantly. “You’re a doll!” Whipping off her jersey and hanging it on its hook, she raced out of the restaurant and made for her car. If only it wasn’t too late!
As she pulled out into traffic, she didn’t see Pete’s car anywhere. She did know the direction he’d gone on Bedford Avenue, so she headed that way. At every intersection, she slowed and searched both side streets. Cars honked behind her, and she waved them past her.
Frustrated that she was wasting precious time, Nancy did keep going on Bedford Avenue, though.
Just as she was about to give up, she spotted Pete’s white Toyota parked in the lot beside a huge old building. The sign outside said McCann’s Gym & Bodybuilding Center. Why had Pete left the restaurant to work out so close to the dinner rush? It seemed completely bizarre.
Nancy parked half a block away and pulled a pair of aviator sunglasses and a lilac-printed scarf out of her glove compartment. It wasn’t much of a disguise, but it would have to do. At least the scarf would hide her distinctive reddish gold hair.
She hurried to the building and pulled open the old-fashioned door. A red and gray sign pointed to a glass door on the first floor.
McCann’s Gym was sleek and modern. A quick glance at the reception area told Nancy the gym was designed primarily for men. Through the glass doors, Nancy could see nothing much but punching bags, tackling blocks, and free weights. Scattered throughout, men were straining to lift heavy weights
free-form. Pete’s burly form and distinctive red hair were nowhere to be seen. Nancy stepped inside.
A good-looking, dark-haired guy wearing a form-fitting red T-shirt with a McCann’s logo stepped up to the maroon and black reception counter.
“Can I help you?” he asked. “Looking for someone?”
“Hi,” said Nancy, lifting her sunglasses to the top of her scarf-covered head, “Um, actually, I was thinking of joining McCann’s.”
The guy behind the counter shot her a grin. “We don’t have many female members. In fact, we don’t have any.”
“Really? Why not?”
“Well, this is what some people call a rockhead gym,” he said. “It’s not for everybody.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” said Nancy, confused. She’d never heard the term before. “What’s a rockhead?”
The guy behind the counter smiled and explained, “A rockhead is a body fanatic. Somebody who pumps iron for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We say they’re built like rocks with brains to match.”
Nancy laughed at the joke. “Are you including yourself in that description?” she asked.
“Me? Oh, no. Actually, I’m the house intellectual,” he countered with a grin and a wink.
“Well, could I at least see some literature?” she asked.
“Sure. I know we keep brochures around here somewhere. There’s a lounge around this corner, if you want to wait there.”
With that, he sauntered off, disappearing behind a door marked Employees Only. Alone, Nancy glanced around again.
As far as she could tell, Pete wasn’t in the gym. If he was in the locker room or shower, she’d have no chance of finding him. Still, the receptionist might know something about Pete. Nancy decided to wait in the lounge until he came back with the brochures.
Before Nancy could make her way to the lounge, though, she heard voices moving toward her. One of them was Pete’s! Perfect.
Backing off, she looked for cover. The only place she could find was the counter by the reception area. She crouched down behind it and listened.
“You’ve got to help me out, Doc,” Pete was saying in a whisper. “I’m in real trouble this time.”
“Doc,” whoever he was, answered Pete in calm, reassuring tones as he dropped something metallic—a key? Nancy wondered—on the counter above her head. “Don’t worry, Pete,” he said. “It’ll work itself out. Besides, you’ve handled it up to this point.”
Handled what? Nancy wondered. What kind of trouble was Pete in?
“Yeah, but now it’s getting out of hand,” Pete complained. “How long can I keep this up? I’m telling you, I’m at the end of my rope!”
“You’re all upset about nothing. If you have to spend a little money, well, that’s life,” Doc advised.
“What about you? I thought we were in this together?” Pete said, his anger barely in check.
“Pete,” said Doc, an edge of steel creeping into his mellow voice, “I can’t help you. Think of my reputation.”
“But, Doc—” Pete protested.
“You’re just going to have to handle this yourself,” Doc interrupted coldly. “You’d better not screw up anymore, either, Pete. One person knows already, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s one person too many.”
“I told you, there was nothing I could do about it,” Pete complained.
“And I’m telling you that it’s your problem,” Doc responded, his voice hard as steel now. “You take care of it. Now, if this keeps up, it’s all over. And not just for your boys—for you, too, my friend.”
Chapter
Nine
I WON’T MESS UP, DOC,” Pete promised, sounding like a scared kid.
“I know you won’t,” Doc told Pete. “That’s why we do business together—because I can count on you.” The man’s voice was no longer cruel and cold, but it had regained its calm warmth. “Look, let’s go soak in the whirlpool. You look like you need to relax a little.”
Without another word, Pete and Doc walked away from the desk. Peeking out from behind the counter, Nancy caught a brief glance of Doc from the rear: graying, well-groomed hair, big broad shoulders, and upright carriage. He was wearing a gray T-shirt, running shorts, and gray sneakers. What Nancy wouldn’t have given for a look at his face!
Nancy saw them opening the gym’s interior door. When she was sure it had closed shut again, she slowly stood up from her hiding place.
“Well, hello, there,” came the voice behind her. Nancy straightened all the way up to find the receptionist, brochures in hand, staring at her behind the counter.
“I was leaning over the counter and I dropped a bracelet,” said Nancy, covering for herself.
“Did you find it?”
“Luckily, yes,” Nancy replied, jiggling her left arm to show her bracelet. “I’ve got to get the clasp fixed.” She came out from behind the counter.
The receptionist raised his eyebrows doubtfully, but obviously he decided to go along with her story. “Well, I found the brochures,” he said. “Here’s one about McCann’s and another on our personal fitness program. And, of course, this one about our specialized bodybuilding courses. What would life be without them, huh?”
“Thanks,” said Nancy, smiling as she reached out to take a few.
“Maybe we could talk about it over dinner? I’m off in half an hour,” he said, standing close as he handed the papers to her.
“Er, no thanks,” Nancy demurred. “I really have to get going. I’m working tonight.”
“Maybe some other time? If you give me your phone number—”
“Well, I guess I could take yours,” she countered.
“Sure,” he said, writing it down on a slip of paper and handing it to her. “Name’s Jake, Jake Deaver. And you’re?”
“Nancy,” she answered quickly, pocketing the paper. “Nice talking to you, Jake.” With that, she stepped quickly to the exit. She didn’t want Pete coming out of the gym and spotting her there. Besides, she had promised Mark to hurry back.
• • •
“He said, ‘If this keeps up, it’s all over for you.’ ” It was ten-thirty at night, and Nancy was filling Bess and George in on what she had learned that day.
“Sounds heavy,” murmured Bess, who was sprawled in an oversize chair, her brow furrowed.
“What could he mean?” George asked from the sofa, where she sat with her long legs tucked under her. “If what keeps up?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Nancy said softly as she paced the room.
“Maybe he meant the stealing?” Bess suggested.
“What would a doctor have to do with the thefts at Touchdown?” Nancy asked, flopping down next to George and staring up at the ceiling.
“Just a thought,” said Bess, tugging on a blond curl.
“I just thought of something,” Nancy said, jumping up and pacing again. “Doc said it would be all over for Pete’s ‘boys,’ too. We know Pete’s a sports agent on the side, so maybe his ‘boys’ are his clients.”
“Good idea, but how do we find out?” George asked.
“There’s something I need to ask you two,” Nancy said, resettling herself in an armchair. “Have you heard anything unusual about Lonnie or Bill or Rob—actually, about any of the guys on the team?”
“You already know that Bill’s been getting more and more calls from college scouts,” said Bess. “Now he’s super nervous about the next two games. In fact, that’s all he ever talks about anymore.”
“How about Lonnie?” Nancy asked George. “Have you seen anything of him?”
“I talked to him late last night,” said George. “He said he wants to see me, but I don’t know. After what you just told me about the way he acted at football practice—”
“Try to find out what’s eating him, but be careful, okay? He seems to have a pretty mean temper,” Nancy told George.
“Don’t worry. I don’t intend to get him mad,” George said with a smile. “What sho
uld I be looking for?”
“I don’t know,” Nancy said, biting her lip.
“Look, Nancy, I’m not going to spy on Bill,” Bess protested. “I mean, it’s okay for George, she just met Lonnie—but I really like Bill!”
“Who asked you to spy on Bill?” Nancy asked. “There is something you can do to help, though.”
“Oh, brother. What is it?” asked Bess with a friendly smirk.
“How about throwing a party for the Bears after the game on Wednesday? I have a feeling we could learn a lot from them about Pete.”
“A party? Sure!” Bess chirped, delighted with the plan. “That sounds great! Just leave it to me.”
• • •
The next day Nancy made the trip from River Heights to Bedford in record time. She wanted to make a good impression on Mark and show up early for her eleven o’clock shift.
Stopping for a red light not far from the restaurant, she saw a familiar-looking guy walk out of a building across the street from her. She wouldn’t even have noticed him, except for his furtive movements. His shoulders hunched, head down, collar up, he was obviously trying to make himself inconspicuous. Why do people act that way when they don’t want to be noticed? Nancy asked herself with a chuckle.
She took another look. It was Rob Matthews. Nancy watched as he continued to stride down the street, casting quick glances behind him,
Nancy checked out the sign on the building: West Bedford Medical Clinic—Private. Was Rob having more problems with his health? Intrigued, she pulled into a parking lot and went inside.
The West Bedford Medical Clinic was decorated with pastel watercolor landscapes and wicker furniture. A middle-aged receptionist wearing a white smock and small gold earrings sat behind a desk, typing.
Nancy glanced at a framed declaration of patients’ rights that hung on the wall next to the receptionist The first right listed was that of privacy. Nancy let out a sigh. She realized she wouldn’t get any information by coming right out and asking about Rob.