Murder On Ice (8 page)

“Look,” George replied firmly, “I like Luke, even if you don't, and some good-looking, empty-headed skier isn't going to change that.”

“He's not empty-headed,” Nancy said. “Besides, this is more for him than for you. I think he's really lonely.” So she'd lied. If her plan worked, that wouldn't matter.

“Oh, all right,” George said, groaning, “but only because I know you won't leave me alone until I go with you.”

But when the girls reached the spot where Nancy had left Michael Price, he was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, well,” Nancy said, “you can meet him some other time. Maybe he's just shy—like you,” she added artfully.

Nancy and George went back to the table to find Bess and Gunther sitting with Ned and a few new acquaintances. Everyone was chattering about the various ski slopes, but Ned was unusually quiet.

Nancy put her hand over his. “Ankle bothering you?”

“It's fine,” Ned said briefly.

Bess glanced from Nancy to Ned and back again. “If you guys are getting tired,” she offered, “we can get a ride back to the lodge with somebody else.”

There were immediate offers of rides from their new friends. “I don't want to drag Nancy away this early,” Ned protested.

“I'd
like
to go. Really! We have things to talk about, anyway,” Nancy said, thinking of Michael Price. “I'll go get the car and pick you up at the door.”

“I think I can make it to the parking lot even if
I am a temporary cripple,” Ned said with a laugh.

George shook her finger at Ned. “Look, super-jock, we all know you don't let sports injuries get you down. Just think of it as saving your ankle for the baseball season.” She yawned. “I'm tired, too. I think I'll go home with you.”

So Nancy didn't get a chance to discuss Michael with Ned as they drove home after all. But she definitely thought about him! How frustrating it was that he had disappeared before she'd gotten a chance to talk to him more.

He was my big chance to get information and clues, she told herself miserably as she lay in her bunk a little while later. And I let him slip away, trying to set him up with George. She looked over at her sleeping friend. Time to stop worrying about her and start solving this case.

Where did Michael fit in? Why had he been at the rope tow? Nancy felt a chill in spite of the thick comforter on her bed.
Could
Michael be the midnight prowler?

Nancy closed her eyes. Nothing made sense. But it will before I'm through, she swore. I'll track Michael down. And I'll find out why he and Luke pretended not to know each other. I'll get the answers—before somebody else gets killed on the slopes!

W
HEN
N
ANCY WOKE
up the next morning, George was already gone. “She had an early ski date with Luke,” Bess said darkly. “I couldn't talk her out of it.”

“We've got to get her to listen to us, and fast!” Nancy told Bess about her conversation with Michael Price, and Bess looked shocked. “Luke
could
have killed Michael's friend on purpose—but maybe he didn't,” Nancy continued. “What matters is that his carelessness is causing dangerous accidents, so George's life could be on the line right this minute!”

“George is planning to help Luke give some of the ski lessons today,” Bess told Nancy. “There are a lot of opportunities for accidents on the slopes, aren't there?” She rubbed her aching legs.
“Well, I guess Gunther and I had better sign up for those classes,” she said bravely. “That way I can watch Luke and keep my eye on things for you.”

Nancy nodded. “This is creepy, though, Bess. Michael might give Luke the benefit of the doubt, but after what happened to Ned and me, I wouldn't call what's going on here just coincidences. Three accidents, one of them fatal—and Luke involved in all of them. He's
got
to be doing it on purpose!”

Bess looked at Nancy, frowning. “But what's Luke's motive?”

“That's what I have to find out. Ned and I are going over to the hotel again today to look for Michael and to see if we hear anybody talking about Luke Ericsen. How long did Liz say he's been here? A few weeks? That's long enough for people to have started noticing anything odd.”

As soon as breakfast was over, Nancy and Ned decided to head for the Overlook. But when Nancy turned the key in the ignition of her car, the engine wouldn't turn over.

“Maybe it's just too cold,” Ned suggested.

“I don't know. It was colder last night than it is now, and the car was running fine then.” Nancy tried the engine several more times but got no response.

“Want me to call a service station?” Ned asked.

Nancy shook her head. “Let me talk to Liz first.”

When Nancy found Liz in the office and explained her predicament, Liz promptly took a key ring from a wall hook and tossed it to her. “Take Luke's old Jeep,” she suggested. “He won't be using it until late this afternoon because of classes, and he leaves the keys here in case someone needs emergency transportation.”

Nancy thanked Liz. “We'll take good care of it,” she said. Then she and Ned were soon on their way.

At the Overlook, Nancy and Ned found the hotel's indoor swimming pool empty of swimmers, with no one around except a bored lifeguard. “We'll check the Jacuzzi out later,” Nancy said with an enticing smile, “but right now, we've got work to do.”

“How about this?” Ned suggested. “You check the hotel for Michael. I'll go spread my charm around the lobby and try to get the story on Luke. If he has such a bad reputation, then people should have something to say about him. We can meet in the coffee shop at noon.”

“Okay,” Nancy agreed. “Good luck.”

Nancy started her search by asking for Michael at the front desk. He was registered, but the clerk wouldn't give Nancy his room number. She tried calling him on the house phone, but there was no answer. She checked the bar, the coffee shop, and the main dining room, all without success. Then she headed for the skating rink.

The rink, like the rest of the hotel, was plush. The roof was open to the icy sky, but walls of tinted glass held off the wind. There were lots of
spectators, and Nancy guessed that many of the Overlook guests passed by just to watch.

She leaned against the rail and studied the skaters for a moment. With a start, she realized that one of them was Michael. An idea popped into her mind, and without a second thought, she rented a pair of skates herself.

Nancy laced them up, stepped onto the ice, and began a few warm-up tricks. She liked the music that was playing. It had a beautiful Latin beat to it. Gradually, Nancy added a few spins and easy jumps to her graceful movements.

Pretty soon a small group was watching Nancy and applauding. But all she saw was another skater at the far end of the rink—Michael Price.

As if feeling Nancy's eyes on him, Michael looked up. Then he bowed, his eyes glinting with mischief, and skated smoothly over to her.

“Shall we dance?” he inquired.

“Sure. How do you feel about talking after we skate?”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Luke Ericsen.”

“Okay,” Michael said. “But I've already told you what I know about him.”

Nancy had to admit that skating with Michael was great fun. He had a natural sense of grace and ease, and he knew a lot of tricks. But she was much more interested in getting some answers.

After a few minutes, she took Michael's hand and skated over to the railing. “So let's talk,” she said.

“What do you want to know?” Michael asked.

“Well, for starters, why have you and Luke been pretending you don't know each other?”

Michael grimaced. “Quite frankly, after what happened with my friend, Luke and I can't stand the sight of each other. Neither one of us ever wants to see the other again, and I guess we both feel the less said, the better.”

Nancy nodded. “Okay, I'll buy that. But there's something else. We've had a prowler around our lodge, a prowler who leaves some very frightening messages in the snow. . . . You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Michael coughed. “I—I don't know what you're talking about, Nancy.”

There was a moment of awkward silence. Nancy could tell by the look in his eyes that Michael was lying. She understood why. Creeping around someone's yard in the middle of the night wasn't the kind of thing you'd want to own up to. What puzzled Nancy was why, if neither Luke nor Michael ever wanted to see each other again, Michael had gone to all the trouble of leaving that message. What did he hope to gain by it?

Nancy was beginning to get the feeling that Luke and Michael's history was just a bit more complicated than Michael was letting on.

Nancy saw Michael glance over her shoulder. “Speak of the devil,” he said, “here's Luke now.”

Luke marched up to the railing, his face grim. “You have some nerve helping yourself to my Jeep,” he said tersely to Nancy. “It's meant for
emergencies only. Coming over here doesn't count as one, so hand back the keys!”

“I don't have them,” Nancy said hastily. “I left them with Ned. I think he's in the coffee shop.”

“Fine. I'll get them. I do not want you driving the Jeep back to the lodge.” Luke swung around.

“Just a minute,” Michael called. An odd smile touched his mouth. “Luke—Ericsen, is it?”

Luke turned back and fixed his eyes on Michael. A peculiar expression was on his face. Hostile? Not exactly. It was more like . . . confusion, as if he were looking beyond Michael, seeing someone else.

Nancy felt confused as well. She had been certain that Michael and Luke already knew each other, but they were acting like virtual strangers.

“We used to have a mutual friend,” Michael continued. “Dieter Mueller. Remember him?”

Luke just stood there, unmoving; but slowly, in a delayed reaction, his eyes began to bulge and his face went white. Nancy decided he looked completely terrified, as if he were watching his own funeral.

Then, all at once, Luke was running as fast as he could away from the skating rink, away from Michael—or from his own past?

As Nancy watched Luke racing across the snow, she turned to Michael—and found that his face had paled, too.

“You came over here in his Jeep? The old, beat-up one with the ripped top I saw parked out back in the lot?” he asked.

Nancy nodded. “We didn't realize he'd mind.”

“I'm glad you won't be going back in it,” Michael said. “And I'd advise you to stay away from anything else belonging to that guy. You saw what happened when your boyfriend used his skis!”

“Michael,” Nancy asked bluntly, “who was Dieter Mueller?” She had to be sure.

For a minute, silence hung between them. “Can't you guess?” Michael said finally. “He was my friend, the one who borrowed Luke's skis.”

“Michael, I'm sorry,” Nancy said comfortingly.

“Yeah. Me, too,” Michael replied. “Hey, are those people over there friends of yours?”

Nancy turned to see Bess and Gunther waving to her from across the rink. She and Michael skated over. “Where's George?” Nancy asked.

Bess shrugged. “She told me to get lost, in so many words. She's probably waiting for Luke back at the lodge. Or working off some emotion on the ski jumps!” She shook her head. “They had a date to go for a ride. Luke absolutely hit the roof when he found the Jeep was gone!”

Michael frowned. “That sounds very dangerous.”

“Oh, George knows what she's doing where
sports
are concerned!” Bess said, laughing. “I think she could be an Olympic contender if she wanted to. Sometimes, I actually think she's going to go for it—she keeps such a close eye on all the tryouts.

“Besides,” she went on with a grin, “if there
is
any danger, she has the perfect bodyguard—Nancy Drew, the fabulous detective!”

Everybody laughed. But underneath the laughter Nancy felt a tenseness. The sensation lasted for only an instant. Almost immediately, Michael and Gunther were laughing at Bess's teasing. When Nancy looked at Michael, his eyes were warm with admiration. “I
thought
you were more than just a tourist! You're here on a case, aren't you?”

“No way!” Nancy exclaimed and laughed gaily. She managed to send Bess a warning glance as she went on smoothly. “I've ruined too many vacations that way.”

Nancy glanced at her watch. It was just past noon. “Speaking of which, I'd better go find Ned. Now that I know where you're staying and you know where I am, let's keep in touch. Skating was fun. I'd really like to see you again.”

Nancy's last comment was no lie. Michael was the only one around who seemed to know anything about her prime suspect. She
had
to see him again.