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Authors: Carolyn Keene

BOOK: Out of Bounds
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“There was money in your gym bag? How much?” Nancy wanted to know.

“Quite a bit,” Rob said. “About four hundred dollars.”

“Do you usually carry so much money in your gym bag?” Nancy asked incredulously.

“Not usually,” Rob admitted. “But I was planning on buying something over the weekend.”

“So you had four hundred dollars in cash on you?” Nancy asked.

Rob gave her a suspicious look. “What is this, an inquisition?” he asked, not able to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “I wanted to buy a rowing machine for my basement, and they only take cash, okay? Look, the money is gone; let's just drop it.”

Nancy let out a low whistle and looked down at the players on the field. “Pardon me,” she muttered.

“Rob!” Cynthia broke in. “Nancy practically saved your life yesterday.”

“I'm sorry,” said Rob, more conciliatory now. “I didn't mean to be rude. I know you're helping Cynthia out by investigating the thefts at Touchdown, and I appreciate what you're doing for her, but this is a whole other thing.”

“It's okay,” said Nancy, even though it wasn't. Rob looked awfully uncomfortable just then. What did he mean by a “whole other thing”? What was it he wanted her to stay away from?

Biting her lip, Cynthia shot an anxious look at Nancy and nodded toward Rob.

“Rob,” Nancy said, remembering her promise to the cheerleader. “When Cynthia and I talked to Dr. Gebel yesterday, she was really concerned—”

“Look!” Rob interrupted angrily as Cynthia turned away in embarrassment. “I know what
you're going to say, and I don't want to hear it, okay? Everyone's been on my back about leaving the hospital, and as far as I'm concerned, it's nobody's business but my own.”

“It's your life,” said Nancy, trying to hide her reaction to the quarterback's outburst. There was obviously no reasoning with Rob.

She lifted her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders at Cynthia, who hurriedly brushed a tear from her eye and looked down at her feet. There didn't seem to be anything more they could do for Rob.

Nancy stood up. “I guess I'll be taking off,” she said.

“See you, Nancy,” said Cynthia, swallowing back her tears.

With a wave, Nancy made her way down the bleachers to the field. Then she had a thought. Rob's coach might know something about why Rob left the hospital. If he didn't, he should.

The coach was standing with a stopwatch at the edge of the track, timing his players' speeds in the forty-yard dash. “Faster! Faster, Ellman! Get the lead out!” he shouted as Bill sped down the track in a blur of motion.

Clicking his watch, the coach smiled and called to Bill. “Not bad. Best time yet, in fact—four and six tenths. I've seen pros with slower times. Now give me a hundred push-ups!”

Grimacing, Bill flopped down and began his
push-ups, while Lonnie Price lined up to start his forty-yard dash.

“Coach, could I have a word with you?” Nancy said as the coach turned and gave her a hard stare. “I'm a friend of Rob and Cynthia's.

The muscular white-haired man grunted, “Just a minute.” Then, turning to the track where Lonnie Price was crouching, he shouted, “Go!” Lonnie took off like lightning. Only 4.8 seconds later, the dash was over. “One hundred from you, too, Price!” the coach barked. “The rest of you, three laps, on the double!”

He turned back to Nancy. “Okay, what do you want?” he asked curtly. “I'm in the middle of practice.”

“Sorry to bother you,” said Nancy. “But there's something important I think you ought to know.”

“All right,” said the coach, pocketing his stop watch. “This had better be good.”

“It's about Rob Matthews,” Nancy told him, trying not to let Coach Novak intimidate her. “Did you know he collapsed after the game on Saturday? He was taken to the hospital with a concussion, but he left before they could do any tests on him.”

The coach was silent for a moment. “Rob's a big boy,” he said at last. “I excused him from practice today, so what more do you want me to do?”

“I thought you might advise him to go back for those tests,” Nancy said. “He might listen to you.”

“Honey,” said the coach with an impatient grin, “I've got a team to run here. And this team is two games away from a state championship. Have you ever won a state championship?”

Nancy shook her head.

“Well, neither have I. And neither have most people in this world,” he said hotly. “Now, see these kids working their tails off? Most of them are never going to make it to the pros. Winning the state championship will be the biggest moment of their lives. If you think I'm going to bench my star quarterback because he had a dizzy spell, think again!”

“But he may be endangering his health!” Nancy insisted.

“He looks like he's going to be just fine to me,” snapped the coach. “As far as I'm concerned, if he says he's healthy, he's healthy—and he plays on Wednesday!”

“Wednesday?” Nancy asked.

“There's a conflict on Saturday, so we have a game on Wednesday at four o'clock. Rob Matthews is my starting quarterback, okay?”

“But that's only two days from now!”

“You got a problem with his playing, get a doctor's note,” the coach replied sarcastically.
He abruptly terminated the interview by turning his back on her.

Nancy walked in front of the bleachers toward the parking lot, shaking her head. The sound of a voice raised in anger came out from under the bleachers and made her stop dead.

“I'll kill you, you little turkey!” The voice sounded familiar now. Quickly Nancy ran around the end of the bleachers to get under them. Lonnie was there. He had a skinny blond player pinned against a post, and he was punching him in the stomach.

“Hey!” Nancy shouted as loudly as she could. “Leave him alone!”

When Lonnie faced her, he had murder in his eyes. “Keep out of this!” he growled. The skinny player squirmed and tried to break free of Lonnie's iron grip. His pale gray eyes widened with fear.

“I said, let him go!” Nancy insisted.

Suddenly Lonnie did let go, but instead of walking away, he made a lunge for Nancy. In a flash he had her by the shoulders.

“You keep out of this, you hear?” he hissed through gritted teeth. “I mean it. Stay out of my business, or I'll make you wish you'd never heard of Lonnie Price!”

Chapter

Seven

U
SING HER ADVANTAGE
of surprise, Nancy brought her arms up inside Lonnie's and broke his hold. She immediately took a karate stance, ready for any new attack.

“Calm down, Lonnie,” she said in a steady, calm tone, but her effort was wasted. Lonnie refocused his attention on his blond teammate and shoved him hard against the post.

“Coach Novak, help!” Nancy snouted toward the field. “There's a fight! Help!”

Coach Novak's face was blotchy with fury as he strode over to the bleachers. “Price!” he roared. “Are you out of your mind? Lay off him,
now!”

Novak's voice seemed to get through to Lonnie, who reluctantly released his victim. The blond boy slid down the post and sat in the dirt under the bleachers.

“What are you doing?” asked the coach, grabbing Lonnie by his shirt and forcing him to meet his eye. “Do you want to put your own teammate out of commission before we meet Montvale?”

“I'm—I'm sorry, Coach,” Lonnie said breathlessly. “I don't know what came over me.” He looked at the other boy as though he were seeing him for the first time. “Are you all right, Dennis?” he asked, genuinely embarrassed. “Sorry, man. I just lost it.”

Nancy stood back as the boy named Dennis struggled to his feet. “Holy mackerel,” he gasped, rubbing his chest. “All I did was bump into you, you know? It was an accident!”

“I guess I've been on edge lately,” Lonnie mumbled. Turning to the coach, he added, “It won't happen again, I promise.”

“Then keep your nose clean, Price,” he grunted. “Because if you can't take the pressure, you can take a walk, know what I mean?”

Coach Novak's threat panicked Lonnie. “I can take it, Coach. Really I can—don't bench me, please,” he begged.

“You sure you're all right, Dennis?” the coach asked.

“Yeah, I'll be okay,” the player answered weakly.

“Take the day off,” the coach told him. “As for you, Price, don't let me catch you losing your temper again. Is that understood?”

Red-faced, Lonnie looked down at his cleats and ran a hand through his glossy black hair. “Understood.”

“Come on, DiVito,” the coach said to Dennis. “We'll have a look at those bruises.” The two of them walked off toward the locker room together, the coach holding Dennis up.

His dark eyes full of shame, Lonnie turned to Nancy. “Sorry I came at you like that,” he said as they walked out from under the bleachers. “I don't know what got into me.”

“I don't, either,” Nancy said, genuinely confused. For someone who had just been so threatening, Lonnie was acting pretty gentle and kind.

“Listen, please don't say anything about this to your friend George, okay?” he pleaded. “I don't want her to get the wrong idea about me.”

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.

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