Cold as Ice (9 page)

N
ANCY'S HEAD WAS REELING
as the headwaiter led their group to a table near the front of the restaurant. As she passed the table where Whorf and his companion were sitting, Nancy quickly studied the other man. He was no one she had ever met—she was sure of that—but somehow he, too, seemed familiar.

She racked her brain, but whatever the connection was, it kept slipping away from her. Whoever he was, it sounded as if Whorf was trying to pressure him into some kind of deal.

Nancy shook her head, pushing their conversation out of her mind and turning her attention to the long list of intriguing dishes on the menu. But
she was so distracted that she barely tasted her sole amandine or heard the conversation at the table. It was more important than ever that she talk to Whorf. But since she couldn't do anything about it now, she decided to relax and enjoy the rest of her dinner.

“I think I've died and gone to heaven,” Bess exclaimed, as she polished off the last bit of her filet mignon with béarnaise sauce.

When they had finished their entrees, the waiter brought them the dessert menu. “Oooh, they have profiteroles,” said Bess. “I had them once and nearly died! Imagine, a plateful of tiny pastries like cream puffs but filled with ice cream and covered with hot chocolate sauce.”

“Imagine an extra five zillion calories,” George said. “I think I'll just have the fruit cup.”

“Hey,” Jerry said, “how often do you come to Winter Carnival? I say we have profiteroles all around!”

George shook her head. “Not for me, thanks.”

“Nor me,” Nancy said. “I'll just share Bess's.” She laughed at her friend's stricken look.

A light snow was starting to fall when they left the restaurant. The flakes glistened as they drifted past the street lamps. “This is a magical night,” Nancy said. “If it weren't so late, I'd love to take a long walk through the snow.”

Ned gave her a mysterious look. “I have a
better idea,” he said, taking her arm. “A little surprise for everybody.”

He led them back to Emerson Hall, an administration building that was the original home of the college. As they approached the building, Nancy heard the high-pitched sound of tiny bells and guessed Ned's surprise.

There in front of the hall was a horse-drawn sleigh of red and green with gold trim. The driver, who was wearing a long black cloak and a top hat, got down from his seat to help them in. There were two wide seats, both facing forward.

Jerry turned to Ned. “Why don't we all scrunch into the front seat and let you and Nancy have the rear one? Is that okay?”

“Sure,” Ned agreed. “But will you have enough room?”

“If we don't, that's part of the fun,” Jerry replied. He grinned at Bess, who blushed.

Nancy climbed up into the rear seat and sat down close to Ned. “What a wonderful idea this was,” she murmured, nestling her head against his shoulder. She straightened up to let the driver cover their legs and feet with a plaid blanket of thick, warm wool, then settled back again.

“Does anybody know what the temperature is?” Bess asked.

Jerry wet his finger and held it up. “Below freezing,” he said.

“I already knew that,” Bess protested. “Say, your hands must be cold. Don't you have gloves?”

“Sure, lots of them,” he replied. “And they're all back at the frat house.”

The driver climbed into his seat and announced, “Here we go.” He shook the reins, and the horse tossed its head and began to pull. As the sleigh moved off into the night, the bells sewn to its harness rang out merrily.

Ned leaned forward and said to the others, “I asked the driver to take us once around College Woods. It should be very pretty just now.”

“The whole campus is beautiful,” George said. “Too bad we're here for only two more days.”

“You can always come back,” Rob said. Then he, too, sat back to enjoy the ride. Glimpsing the warm look he gave George, Nancy decided that Bess and Jerry weren't the only ones who were getting along well.

As they turned onto one of the fire lanes that led through College Woods, Bess said, “It's so picture-perfect. I know—why don't we sing something? Any ideas?”

Jerry chuckled. “I hate to mention it,” he said, “but this
is
‘a one-horse open sleigh.' Ho, ho, ho. ‘Jingle Bells' and all that.”

“You've got to be kidding,” Rob said.

“No way am I singing ‘Jingle Bells,' ” George said. “There are limits.”

Bess turned to her cousin. “Aw, come on.” She began to launch into song, and Jerry joined in. Nancy noticed that despite George's grumbling, she and Rob soon were singing, too.

Nancy tilted her head up and whispered into Ned's ear, “What do you say we skip the song?”

“Good idea,” he whispered back, tightening his arm around her. Then his lips met hers, and she forgot about everything except how wonderful it felt to be with Ned.

Too soon, the sleigh was pulling up in front of Emerson Hall again. Two couples were waiting on the steps for the sleigh. As Nancy climbed down, she saw that one of the couples was Susan and Greg. She glanced nervously over at Rob. Would he and Greg get into another argument? But Rob was in the middle of an intense conversation with George. Either he didn't notice Greg and Susan or he was doing a good job of pretending not to see them.

As Susan passed Nancy on her way to the sleigh, she smiled and asked, “How did you like the ride?”

“It was great,” Nancy replied. “Cold but great.”

“Here, take this back, so you won't freeze,”
Greg said, wrapping his orange and purple muffler around Susan's neck. She settled her chin into the wool muffler, then looked at Nancy again. “You're not still planning to go skating early in the morning, are you?” she asked.

“Sure, it'll be fun,” Nancy said.

Before Susan could respond, the sleigh driver shook the reins. The horse gave a snort and a faint whinny and started down the lane.

After walking back to the dorm, Nancy, Bess, and George said good night to the guys and then turned in for the night. As Nancy drifted off to sleep, the image of Whorf and his companion kept swirling in her mind, and she resolved once again to try to talk to him the next day.

• • •

The
brrrring!
of Nancy's travel alarm brought her up out of a deep sleep. She pushed back the covers, sat up, and reached for her penlight on the floor next to the bed. Moving as silently as possible so as not to wake the others, she found her toilet kit and towel and started to tiptoe toward the door. Bess and George were sound asleep in their sleeping bags, but Susan was already up and gone. She hadn't been kidding when she told Nancy she was an early riser. It was only six o'clock!

By the time she was dressed and ready, Ned was downstairs waiting. He gave her a
goodmorning kiss, then handed her a cardboard container of cocoa. “I stopped by the all-night diner on the way over,” he explained.

Nancy lifted the lid and took a sip of cocoa. “This is perfect,” she said.

“It's going to be a beautiful day,” Ned said, zipping up his parka. “Clear and crisp. Let's not waste a moment of it.”

“You're right,” Nancy replied, taking Ned's arm. “It
is
a beautiful day.”

On the walk down to the lake, the only sound was the crunch of their boots on the snow. Overhead the sky was still dark blue, but to the east it was brightening quickly.

When they reached the lake's edge Nancy brushed a dusting of fresh snow off the log bench and sat down to put on her skates. Soon she and Ned were moving over the frosty ice.

“It's nice having the lake to ourselves, isn't it?” Ned remarked, skating up beside her and coming to a stop.

“It sure is,” Nancy replied. With an impish grin, she tapped him on the arm and added, “Let's play tag. You're It.”

She took off down the ice, then risked a quick glance over her shoulder. Ned, taken by surprise, was just starting to move. She had a huge head start. Laughing, she picked up her pace. Ned was calling to her, but the wind tore his words away.

On her right, the boat house zipped by. Suddenly she began to feel unsteady, as if the surface of the ice was different.

Nancy gasped as she realized what had happened. The barriers—the Thin Ice sign—where were they? She peered frantically ahead and to either side, but they were nowhere in sight.

A loud crack, like that of a pistol shot, cut the crisp air. The frozen surface of the lake was shifting under her skates!

N
ANCY!”
N
ED SHOUTED
from behind her. “Nancy, stop!”

Nancy swerved sharply to the left and leaned hard into the turn, feeling the edges of her skate blades bite into the ice. A fine spray of ice particles showered across the surface, then, miraculously, she was standing still.

Still but not yet safe. She held her breath and kept absolutely motionless. The ice under her was rocking unsteadily. From all around came loud popping sounds like those from little kids firing off cap pistols. A crack appeared less than a yard from her skates and started to widen.

“This way,” Ned called. He was standing a dozen feet away, an agonized, worried look on his face. “Quick!”

Nancy was afraid to move, for fear that the ice would break, but she knew she couldn't just stand there. She took a deep breath and looked around her. To her right was a patch of ice that looked solid—for the moment, at least.

Knowing it might mean disaster, she pushed off and skated, trying to avoid the obvious weak spots. She fought a desire to hurry. Any sudden movements could cause the ice to crack open. She was less than a yard from Ned when the blade on her left skate broke through.

Panic surged through her as she lunged forward and caught Ned's outstretched hands. He pulled her away from the area of greatest danger and then hugged her tightly.

“You could have died, Nan!” he exclaimed. “Didn't you hear me calling you?”

“Yes,” Nancy told him. “But I couldn't hear what you were saying. Anyway, by then it was almost too late.” She shivered, looking back at the treacherous area of ice now riddled with huge cracks. Frowning, she said angrily, “What I'd like to know is, what happened to the sign and the sawhorses?”

A few minutes later she and Ned found the sawhorses and the Thin Ice sign lying in the snow
near the boat house dock. They set them up again, a safe distance from the dangerous area.

“What kind of idiot removed those barriers?” Ned said. “We could have had a serious accident.”

“That was no accident,” Nancy said.

“You don't think someone deliberately took them away, someone who knew that we were coming down to skate this morning?” Ned was silent for a moment, then burst out, “Come on, Nancy! Who'd do a thing like that?”

“Who?” she said, pausing at the edge of the ice. “I don't have a name yet, but I know what the person's like. It's somebody who wanted to scare me and never stopped to think that this method might be fatal. Or else it's someone who simply doesn't care.”

As she was pulling on her snowboots a bit later, she added, “Someone who doesn't know or doesn't care what their actions do to others is very dangerous. He or she has to be stopped.”

“But who do you think it is?” Ned said, sitting down close to her.

Nancy raised both hands and tucked her reddish blond hair behind her ears in a distracted motion. “It has to be someone who knew we were planning to come skating early this morning.”

Ned wrinkled his forehead and drew his eyebrows together. “Hmmm— Wait, I've got it! It
must be Greg! Remember? Last night, after our sleigh ride, Susan asked you if you were still planning to go skating first thing. And Greg was right there, listening!”

“So were their two friends,” Nancy pointed out. “Not to mention Susan herself, and George, Bess, Jerry, and Rob. That doesn't narrow down the possibilities a whole lot.” She tapped her mittened hand against her knee. “Try to remember. When else did we talk about skating?”

Ned thought for a moment. “Last night at the restaurant, didn't Bess make some crack about how you'd be freezing out here at the crack of dawn this morning?”

“You're right.” Nancy leaned forward. “It was while we were waiting for our table. And do you know who was right in back of us, close enough to hear everything? William Whorf!”

Ned looked blank.

“Whorf,” Nancy repeated. “The guy who made the speech at the museum. The trustee. The famous jewelry collector! He knows I'm investigating the theft.
And
he's a complete nut about collecting famous jewelry. What if
he
was responsible for the robbery, and now he wants to keep us from investigating?”