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Authors: Carolyn Keene

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“Well,” she said cheerfully, “I'm here. And pretty soon we'll
all
go to the beach.”

Smiling brightly, she pushed open the auditorium door and stepped inside. Several dancers were still on the stage, chatting together. Bess was down in the front row, as close to the piano as she could get, Nancy noticed. Yves wasn't there at the moment, but Nancy decided he must be coming back. Otherwise Bess wouldn't be sitting so patiently.

“Hi,” she said when she reached Bess. “I guess I made it back in time for the beach.”

“Nancy, hi!” Bess stood up, her face anxious. “What happened? Where's George? Did you find anything out?”

“George is with Gary,” Nancy said. “And I'm not sure if we learned anything or not. I'll tell you everything later, okay? Let's get to the beach. Where's Sasha?”

“He just went in to change,” Bess said as the two of them headed up the aisle. “He's been asking for you about every fifteen minutes.”

“So I've heard.” Nancy lifted her eyebrows.

They were halfway up the aisle when suddenly a voice burst out angrily in French,
“Attention, s'il vous plaît!”

Turning around, they saw Yves standing by his piano, holding pages of sheet music in his hands. “My music, it has been disarranged
completely!” he said, switching to English. “I must insist it be left alone. The stage is your territory,” he went on, gesturing to the dancers. “The piano is mine. Please, do not disturb my music.” He stopped and took a deep breath.
“Merci,”
he added.

Bess's cheeks turned pink. “That was me,” she whispered to Nancy. “I knocked his music off the rack when I was looking through it during the break. Do you think I should confess?”

“I'd say don't tell him, if you want him to go on liking you. Talk about touchy!” Nancy whispered back.

“I know. I thought the dancers would be the temperamental ones,” Bess agreed. They pushed through the swinging doors that led to the dressing rooms. “But Yves is an artist, too. He says accompanists are completely misunderstood.”

Nancy suppressed a grin. She suspected Yves was a bit of a blowhard. She hoped Bess's crush would fade painlessly as she got to know him better.

“Does that mean you managed to talk to him during rehearsal?” she asked.

“Every chance I got,” Bess said with a smile.

• • •

“This is fantastic!” Sasha stretched his arms out toward the ocean. Beads of water dripped from his hair, and sand was clinging to his muscular legs. “I could stay here forever!”

Nancy laughed. “That's exactly what Bess said. I don't know if we'll ever get her back to River Heights.”

“I must go in again!” Sasha said exuberantly. Grabbing Nancy's hand, he pulled her with him, and the two of them dashed across the sand and into the cool surf.

Diving underwater they came up laughing and waited for a good wave. Catching one finally, they body-surfed back to shore. Scrambling to her feet, Nancy pushed her hair out of her face and waited for Sasha to get up.

“Enough,” she said. “I didn't have any lunch and I'm starving. Let's get something to eat.”

Nancy
was
hungry, but she had another reason for wanting to go to the concession stand. Somehow, she and Sasha had wound up alone together, and she didn't want it to stay that way.

They hadn't come together. The institute had provided Dmitri with a car, and much to Nancy's amusement, he'd insisted on driving Marina and Sasha to the beach instead of letting them go with Nancy and Bess. So Nancy had taken three other dancers—two Canadians and a beautiful Japanese girl—instead.

It was time to join a crowd, she decided. “Come on,” she said. “I'll buy you a hot dog.”

“All right,” Sasha said, shaking the water from his arms. “And I must ask you about
your case. I would have before, but the ocean distracted me. Tell me everything you learned this morning.”

“Well, I learned that Jetstream is convinced Gary leaked the plans,” Nancy told him, as they threaded their way between sunbathers stretched out on colorful beach towels.

“But you?” Sasha asked, picking up his towel and drying himself. “Are you convinced?”

Nancy dried off, too. “I have a lot of doubts,” she said, tossing her towel down and taking her coin purse out of her beach bag. “Jetstream should, too. After all, they're still working on the plane. If Gary's not the leak, and Aviane gets hold of any plans after this, Jetstream's really going to look pretty foolish.”

Sasha nodded. “The trick is to learn exactly what has been leaked and what might be leaked in the future,” he said as they walked on. “I would start with the plans themselves.”

“So would I,” Nancy agreed. “If I could get my hands on them.”

“You see?” he asked with a grin. “We think alike. I told you I love mysteries. You should let me help you.”

“Thanks, but you've got your hands full with the rehearsals,” she said. “I saw you dance this morning, Sasha, and I don't think Dmitri needs to worry about you disgracing your country. You're wonderful.”

“Thank you. A compliment from you means
a lot.” They were climbing over a dune, and Sasha reached out for Nancy's hand. “Nancy,” he said. “You must let me tell you something. I have met a lot of girls on my travels, and I admit, I have flirted a lot.”

Nancy swallowed. His blue eyes were so serious. She knew she should stop him now, before he said anything he might regret, but something held her back for a moment. Maybe I just want to hear him flatter me, she thought guiltily. Maybe I just like the attention!

“I admit, too, that I have flirted with you,” Sasha went on. “But it was not in fun, like the others. Nancy, I am—”

“Sasha, wait.” Nancy freed her hand and took a deep breath. It was time to set him straight. “I like you a lot,” she said, “but I have a boyfriend. Back in River Heights. His name is Ned, and we've been together for a long time.”

“Are you getting bored with him, maybe?” Sasha asked hopefully.

Nancy shook her head, almost wishing she had a different answer for him. “No, I'm not. I like you and I want to have fun, Sasha, but I think you should find someone else to flirt with.”

“So.” Sasha stood still, thinking a minute. Then he nodded, his light brown hair shining in the sun. “I think you want me to back off*. Okay. I will.” He reached out and draped his towel around Nancy's neck, pulling her a little
closer to him. “For now I will back off,” he said. “But not forever.”

With another grin, he turned and sprinted up the beach toward the concession stand. Nancy followed more slowly, his towel still around her neck. The conversation hadn't gone exactly the way she'd planned. She had the feeling Sasha wasn't convinced about her feelings for Ned. Well, that's his problem, she thought. At least she'd told him.

The concession stand was busy, and Nancy found most of the others from the institute there. Everybody seemed to have gotten hungry at the same time. Bess was there, drinking a diet soda and talking with the two Canadian dancers they had driven to the beach. Both guys, of course.

Sasha had just joined Marina and Dmitri, who were standing with Jacques, the dancer from France. Dmitri hadn't been swimming, but he
was
wearing shorts and a T-shirt. Maybe he's unbending a little, Nancy thought with a smile.

Tying Sasha's towel around her waist, Nancy got in line and bought a soda and three hot dogs. Two were for her, and the third was for Sasha. When she turned around, she didn't see him. The two men were gone, too, but she did catch a glimpse of Marina, dressed in a rose-colored swimsuit, heading for the parking area. They must be leaving. It was funny that Sasha hadn't told her.

Hungrily, Nancy wolfed down one hot dog in about five bites. Balancing the other two and the can of soda, she started after Marina.

When she got to the parking area, she saw Marina and Sasha standing beside a bank of pay phones. Their gestures told her they were having a heated discussion of some kind. Sasha glanced up, spotted Nancy, and beckoned her over.

“Are you going?” Nancy called. She stepped onto the hot asphalt. As she winced at the sudden pain in her bare feet, she heard a scream.

Marina was screaming and staring directly at Nancy, an expression of horror on her beautiful face.

Then Nancy heard the car. It was off to her left, moving straight at her, coming fast. She could tell from the sound that it wouldn't stop.

Chapter

Six

D
ROPPING THE SODA
, Nancy dove for the sand, the hot dogs flying out of her hands and arcing away. The sharp grains bit into her bare legs and arms as she skidded over the sand. Tumbling, she heard another scream and thought it must be Marina again. Then, finally, she heard the car brake. It screeched hideously, showering her with more sand before it finally came to a stop.

Breathing hard, Nancy slowly got to her feet. The car was exactly where she'd been standing seconds before, the soda can flattened under its right front wheel.

The car doors flew open, and Dmitri and Jacques scrambled out. They were shouting in a mixture of English, Russian, and French.

“Nancy!” Sasha called, hurrying over to her. “Are you okay?”

“Scratched up a bit,” she said. “But okay. What happened?”

Dmitri, Jacques, and Marina joined them, and the chaperon spoke quickly in Russian, gesturing toward the car a lot.

“He's too upset to think properly in English,” Marina told Nancy. “He says that the car just took off.”

“I felt it, too,” Jacques said. “It simply surged forward.”

“I've heard of that happening,” Nancy said, brushing sand off her arms. “I think you'd better leave the car here. I can take you wherever you were going.”

“Dmitri was giving me a ride back to the institute,” Jacques put in quickly. “I have an extra rehearsal this afternoon.”

Nancy shrugged. “I'll give you a ride. Mr. Kolchak, if you call the rental company, they'll come for this car and give you another one.”

“Yes,” Dmitri said. “I will do exactly that. I must apologize, Miss Drew. Are you sure you're not hurt?”

“Yes, and please don't apologize,” Nancy said. “It wasn't your fault.”

Looking at Dmitri and Jacques, Nancy did
wonder—had it really been an accident? She thought cars that went out of control had all been recalled. Was there another faulty batch of them on the road, or had the “accident” been deliberate?

• • •

“Just an accident, definitely,” Bess said. “Really, Nancy, I can't believe Jacques is involved in espionage.”

Nancy and Bess had taken Jacques to the institute before dropping Dmitri, Sasha, and Marina off at their house. Now they were on their way back to Eloise's.

“He does seem to spend a lot of time with Marina and Dmitri, even though—as far as I know—they never met before this program started,” Nancy reasoned out loud. “And I told you how they stopped talking the second they saw me at the rehearsal.”

“So? Maybe they were just gossiping and didn't want you to hear.”

“Dmitri used to be a pilot, Bess. He knows planes. And Sasha said they were going to France next. Who knows? Maybe Dmitri will be taking some Jetstream plans with him. And why was Dmitri giving Jacques a ride back, anyway? It's very unlike him to leave Sasha and Marina alone for even a few minutes.”

“Hold it,” Bess interrupted. “There could be other explanations, you know. Maybe Marina and Jacques are interested in each other—
maybe that's why he hangs around the Soviets so much. They're not the only ones going to France next—all the dancers are. Jacques did have a rehearsal this afternoon—I heard Dana telling him to be back early. Maybe Dmitri was just being nice.”

“I know, I know,” Nancy agreed.

“Besides,” Bess went on, “the car accident happened after you told Sasha about your visit to Jetstream. What are you saying? That Sasha told Dmitri and then Dmitri and Jacques decided to scare you?”

Nancy shook her head. She wasn't sure. Her idea that Dmitri and Jacques were go-betweens for Bill Fairgate (or someone at Jetstream) and Aviane
did
seem kind of farfetched. But the theory was possible, and as long as it
was
possible, she decided she'd better be careful. More than a soda can might get crushed the next time.

When Nancy and Bess got home, they found Eileen Martin sitting with Eloise in the white, sunny kitchen. The two women were drinking iced tea and going over a sample program of the institute's opening performance.

“Nancy, Bess!” Eloise stood up, a look of concern on her face. “Eileen told me about Gary. I simply can't believe it. George must be so upset.”

“She is,” Nancy agreed. “Is she back yet?”

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