Murder On Ice (4 page)

Nancy nodded. She wanted to look around the hotel to see if she could get a lead on the tall blond stranger. And maybe learn some more about Luke.

Out loud, she said, “Come on, Ned, help me clear some of the dishes.” She stacked the empty plates, and she and Ned took them to Liz in the kitchen.

“What's up?” Liz asked. “Shall we talk in my office?”

“That might be a good idea,” Nancy replied. She and Ned followed Liz into her office.

When they were settled with the door shut, Nancy said, “You two better steel yourselves, because this is a real shocker. The prowler came
back last night and he left a message in the snow. It said—get this—MURDERER.”

“Wow,” Ned said softly.

“That's crazy!” Liz exploded—a bit too loudly, Nancy thought. “How could there be a murderer at Webb Cove—at
my
lodge! There haven't been any murders around here—”

“Calm down, Liz,” Nancy said. “I wouldn't put much stock in some weird message left in the snow in the middle of the night. But I do intend to find out what's going on here.”

“Have you got any ideas yet?” Ned asked.

“Maybe,” Nancy replied. “I can't help feeling that the blond guy who warned me about the rope was your prowler. That little ski trail he was on leads only to Webb Cove Lodge, and we know he's not staying here.”

“Why do you think he left the message?” Liz wondered.

“Well,” Nancy began slowly, “he warned me once—about the tow—so maybe he's trying to warn me, or all of us—about someone he thinks is dangerous.”

“And could that someone just possibly be Luke Ericsen?” Ned asked. “You said he deliberately denied knowing our mystery man.”

Nancy was silent for a moment. “We don't know much about Luke. I'd certainly hate to accuse him of anything before we have proof. After all, we don't even know if a murder really has been committed! I would say, though, that we should keep an eye on him.”

“Both eyes,” Ned agreed.

“Maybe I should fire him,” Liz said slowly. “Just to get him out of here. . . .”

Nancy frowned. Why would Liz suggest something so drastic? But all she said was, “No, then we'd never solve the mystery. Besides, we don't
know
that he's done anything. And you don't have any cause to fire him.”

Ned smiled faintly. “Nancy, you're becoming obsessed with yet another case. Do you think we'll
ever
go on a vacation without having to share it with thieves, kidnappers, or murderers?”

Nancy sighed. Ned was trying to be good-natured, but she got the message. He was tired of playing second fiddle to every mystery that came along. She couldn't blame him for feeling like that. But how could she sit still if there might really be a murderer in the lodge?

“Someday, we'll have a real vacation, I promise,” Nancy said. “But for now, we have a ski instructor to follow. And on the slopes, that's not going to be easy.”

Ned grinned. “Well, let's hit the mountain.”

“Liz, don't worry. We'll get to the bottom of this,” Nancy promised as she and Ned left the office and headed for the bunk rooms.

When Nancy reached the women's dorm, she found Bess eyeing several combinations of pants, sweaters, and vests, which she had spread out on her bunk. “Don't tell me you're changing again!” Nancy groaned.

“I think I ate too many pancakes for these pants,” Bess said ruefully, looking down at her
tight violet corduroys. “And this sweater doesn't really go with any other pants.”

“Forget clothes for a minute. I need to talk to you about something serious.” Nancy sat down on her bed. Swiftly she outlined everything that had happened, from the message in the snow to her conversation with Liz and Ned. “Keep quiet about it,” she finished. “Liz doesn't want rumors getting out.”

“You're going to tell George, aren't you?” Bess asked.

“I don't know,” Nancy answered, and sighed. “George gets defensive the minute any of us says a word about Luke. Besides, she's already mad at me.”

“She's flipped over him,” Bess said bluntly.

“And I don't like it.” Nancy's eyes darkened. “Bess, keep an eye on her, will you?”

Bess nodded as she chose a new outfit. “You can count on it.”

Nancy and Bess met Ned outside. “I have to wait for Gunther,” Bess said. “He's going to give me my first downhill ski lesson.”

“Okay,” Nancy said with a smile. “Have fun! Ned and I are going to take the chair lift up to Big Birch.”

“Remember,” Ned added wickedly, “that is your left ski. This is your right ski. This is a pole . . .”

“How can you
stand
him?” Bess complained to Nancy.

Nancy laughed. “Oh, I manage—but just barely!”

Bess shook her head and went back inside to look for Gunther.

Ned looked at Nancy in mock anger. “You just barely manage, huh?”

“Well, a little more than barely,” Nancy conceded, laughing. “Come on, let's go.” She started toward the lift.

The chair-lift ride to Big Birch was so beautiful that Nancy almost felt sad. It would have been so much fun for her and Ned to be at Webb Cove without a mystery hanging over them!

The lift neared the top of the mountain, and traveled smoothly over one of Big Birch's expert slopes.

“Hey, look over there,” Ned cried, pointing. “Luke seems to be holding a private little advanced technique class down there. Very exclusive.”

Nancy glanced down at the slope. There were George and Luke, obviously as engrossed in each other as they were in skiing. “Terrific,” she muttered, squinting. “We'll have to move fast to catch them. Think you can keep up with me, Ned? This is one of the toughest trails,” she teased.

“Don't get cute!” Ned retorted. “Remember, I beat you the last time we raced!”

“The
only
time we raced,” Nancy answered.

“Then how about a rematch?” Ned said promptly. “Since you're feeling so cocky. I think I can handle the trail.”

“If that's a challenge, you're on!”

The chair lift reached the top of the mountain,
and Nancy and Ned got off. The slopes were growing crowded as the morning sun turned the hills a dazzling white.

Ned skied over to the side of the slope and adjusted his boot buckles. “How do you like Luke's ski equipment?” Nancy asked. “It's really top quality.”

“It feels good to me. I just might end up buying it from him.”

“Isn't it a little unusual for a ski bum to have not one, but two pairs of first-rate professional skis?” Nancy asked.

Ned laughed. “Clickety-click,” he said, tapping Nancy's forehead with his index finger. “Your wheels are always turning.”

Nancy smiled, batting away Ned's arm. “Well,
don't
you think so?” she persisted. “I mean, Luke's obviously a terrific skier, but I've watched him and his movements are kind of quirky. I think he favors his right leg a little.”

Ned nodded. “I noticed that, too. Could be from an old ski accident.”

“Ned, think about this picture for a moment and see if it fits Luke. A guy loves skiing, but an injury keeps him from becoming a real pro. He doesn't want to admit it, though, so he keeps himself supplied with the best ski equipment available and acts like a big cheese.”

“Makes sense,” Ned admitted. “And George is falling for his delusions of grandeur. You'd think she had more sense than that.”

“Love sure
is
blind sometimes,” Nancy murmured.

“Now what does
that
mean?” Ned demanded teasingly.

“Oh . . . nothing! Hey, slowpoke, better ski fast if you want to catch me!” And with that, Nancy pushed off, heading down the slope in a flurry of glittering snow.

Behind her she heard Ned let out a surprised bellow, and then he was after her. Nancy shot a glance over her shoulder just in time to see him swoop down and pass her with only inches to spare. He shot ahead, zooming through a couple of quick turns before coming to a perfect parallel stop a little farther down the slope.

Nancy waved one of her ski poles as she shot by him. She could feel him racing after her.

Ned put on a burst of speed and shot past Nancy again. She could tell that he was determined to win the race. Nancy watched the taut lines of his body as he skipped from mogul to mogul.

But suddenly, with a cry of pain, Ned flipped face forward into the snow. He tumbled down the hill, one ski coming off and then the other flying after him.

Horror-struck, Nancy streaked down to where Ned was lying and pulled to a stop. She heard no sound except the whistling of the wind. Ned was absolutely silent, his eyes shut. He was as still as death.

N
ED LAY MOTIONLESS
, one leg bent unnaturally beneath his body, his face frozen in a grimace of pain. Frantic, Nancy unsnapped her skis and dropped to her knees beside him.
“Ned,
” she called sharply. There was no response.

Nancy refused to consider her worst fear. She scooped up a handful of snow and rubbed it against Ned's face. Luke had brought her back to consciousness that way after the rope tow accident. Maybe it would help Ned.

She leaned over him, so close their faces almost touched, her ears straining for the sound of breathing. After a moment, she detected a faint groan.

“Ned!” Nancy was almost sobbing. Her eyes scanned his face for any sign of a response. To
her relief, Ned's eyelids twitched and then opened slightly.

“Ned,” Nancy called again. “Can you hear me?”

Ned's faint voice cut her off. “I must be dead . . . there's an angel rubbing noses with me.”

“You clown!” Nancy scolded, relief washing over her.

“Going to kiss me to make it better?” Ned joked weakly.

The kiss that followed was anything but a joke. When Nancy drew back at last, she knew her heart was in her eyes. But her loving expression quickly turned to alarm as she watched Ned, his teeth gritted, slowly try to straighten his bent leg.

“Don't! Don't move at all until you're sure it's not broken!” Nancy gasped.

“I'm pretty sure it isn't,” Ned said, wincing. “Have a look, will you?”

Nancy unfastened his boot and eased it off. Then she explored his leg carefully with her fingers, trying not to hurt him. “I think you're okay,” she said finally.

“Good. Put my boot back on and help me get to my feet.”

“No way! This leg is bad news—your ankle's already swelling.”

“I've been hurt worse playing football.”

All at once Nancy and Ned heard someone call to them from farther up the slope. George and Luke were silhouetted against the shining snow.

“Fantastic,” Ned said. “They must have taken
the lift back up the mountain while we were skiing down.”

“Come give us a hand!” Nancy shouted.

George swooped toward them, with Luke following close behind. “Everything all right?” she called. “We saw you—” Then she got a good look at Ned's leg, and whistled. “How did
that
happen?”

“I don't know,” Ned replied. “One minute I was doing fine. The next, my boot was out of the ski and I was rolling down the mountain like an out-of-control snowball.”

Luke bent down to check Ned's leg. “It looks like nothing's broken, but you could damage the ligaments seriously if you try to use it and you fall again. I'll ski down and get a carrier.” Luke sped away.

“I don't need a carrier!” Ned shouted after him, but Luke was already too far off to hear.

“For Pete's sake, stop showing off about how brave you are,” George scolded.

“Look who's trying to give lessons in good sense,” Ned muttered.

George straightened up angrily. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Ned and Nancy exchanged glances. “Nothing,” Ned said in a gentler tone. “I'm just furious with myself for falling. And I'm worried about how I may have messed up my leg for the baseball season. I'm sorry.”

George looked dubious, but accepted the apology.

Soon after, Luke reappeared, pulling a
stretcher behind him. Nancy and George helped him load Ned onto the stretcher. Luke laid Ned's skis, poles, and the boot Nancy had taken off next to him.

Then he strapped Ned in, picked up the stretcher's handles, and began a slow, careful snowplow down the treacherous slope. Nancy and George skied anxiously behind.

“Can't we stop for a rest?” Nancy called when they were halfway down. She could tell from Ned's face that, although Luke was trying to be gentle, the ride down was very painful.

“I know he's hurting,” Luke said over his shoulder, continuing his snowplow, “but the sooner we get to the bottom, the better he'll feel.” Nancy sighed. She knew Luke was right, so she and George skied on.