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Authors: Carolyn Keene

BOOK: A Date with Deception
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After Gary left the three girls took the blueprints up to their room and hid them in the closet.

“Has anybody thought about how we're going to find out if Bill Fairgate has the latest blueprints?” George asked, peeling off her jeans.

“I can't think of anything but sleep,” Bess said, yawning widely. Then she looked at Nancy, who was standing at the sliding doors leading to the deck. “Nan?” she asked. “You're still upset about Sasha, aren't you?”

Nancy finished tying the belt on her short yellow robe and turned around. “I'm more
upset about not solving this case tonight,” she said. “But you're right, I'm upset about Sasha, too.”

“You heard only one word,” Bess pointed out. “It doesn't prove anything.”

“Bess is right,” George agreed, pulling on the big T-shirt she slept in. “I mean, they found that blueprint in Gary's locker, and everybody but us believes he took it. So just because Sasha said something about Jetstream doesn't mean he's involved in the spying.”

“I know.” Nancy shook her head, annoyed with herself. “Here I am, worrying about Sasha, when it's Gary who's in trouble.” She stepped into her flip-flops and headed for the door. “I'm going to take a shower. Maybe that'll clear my head.”

The warm shower felt great, but Nancy's head wasn't any clearer when she got out.

Bess and George were right, she told herself as she toweled herself off. She couldn't decide Sasha was guilty without proof. Still, it didn't look good. She was almost positive Dmitri was involved. So why else were Sasha and Marina having a midnight meeting and talking about Jetstream if they weren't involved, too?

What made it really bad was the attraction she felt for Sasha. If only she couldn't stand him!

Suddenly Nancy felt so tired she couldn't think straight, about anything. Her eyes burned, and every time she closed them, she
saw blueprints. Her hair was still damp, but she didn't care. She brushed her teeth and went back to the guest room.

George and Bess were already asleep in the twin beds. The three of them took turns, and it was Nancy's night for the futon. She unrolled it and stretched out, planning to listen to the low roar of the ocean for a few minutes. But she was asleep the minute she closed her eyes.

• • •

When Nancy woke up, she could tell by the light that it was late. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock on the dresser. Almost ten.

Nancy rolled up the futon, dressed quickly in a pair of white cotton shorts and a blue tank top, and headed for the kitchen. George and Bess were already there, and so was her aunt Eloise.

“Hi,” Bess said when Nancy came in. “How'd you sleep? I had nightmares about blueprints all night.”

“Don't worry,” George said, when Nancy looked guiltily at her aunt. “We told her what we did,”

“I should have known something was up when you left here dressed like cat burglars last night,” Eloise said, pouring a glass of juice for Nancy. “I can't say I approve, but I certainly understand. I'm just thankful you didn't get caught.”

“I am, too,” Nancy said, sipping some juice.
“Now we've got to figure out where to go from here. I wonder if Bill Fairgate is in today? I think I'll make an appointment to talk to him if he's there.”

“Call Jetstream and ask,” George said. “Also, how about taking another look at those blueprints? Now that we've had some sleep, maybe we can spot something. I think I'll call Gary,” she added, “and see if he's awake yet.”

The phone rang as George started for it. Eloise was closer and picked it up.

Nancy was putting bread in the toaster when Eloise, still on the phone, cried, “Oh, no!”

Nancy glanced over at her aunt. Eloise looked shocked, and she was gripping the phone tightly. “You're sure?” Eloise asked. “That's horrible! What could—Please, try to calm down. I know it's awful, but you can't afford to get hysterical,”

Nancy, George, and Bess exchanged puzzled glances.

Eloise listened intently, getting paler by the second. Finally she said goodbye and hung up.

“Aunt Eloise?” Nancy said. “What happened?”

“That was Dana Harding.” Eloise cleared her throat. “This is simply unbelievable—Sasha Petrov is missing!”

Chapter

Fourteen

M
ISSING
!” B
ESS CRIED
. “What does she mean? How could he be missing?”

“Dana is absolutely beside herself, so I'm afraid she couldn't give me many details,” Eloise said. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “All she managed to tell me was that Sasha didn't show up for rehearsal this morning. Neither Dmitri nor Marina knows where he is.”

Forgetting about her toast and the plans she'd been making, Nancy headed for the door. “Come on,” she said over her shoulder to Bess and George. “Let's get over to the institute and find out what's going on.”

“Call me!” Eloise cried out as the three girls raced to the front door.

“I will!” Nancy shouted back. “Try not to worry!”

Nancy tried not to worry herself, but her hands gripped the steering wheel nervously as she drove. What could have happened between last night and this morning? What had Sasha done? If his disappearance was connected to the Jetstream case, then why hadn't Marina and Dmitri left, too? Or was Sasha on his own?

Nancy pulled the car up in front of the institute, braking sharply, and the three girls ran into the building.

The lobby and the auditorium were buzzing with people. Many of the dancers were wandering around in confusion, trying to find out what was happening. Others were standing in little knots, talking worriedly. A few members of the institute's board were there, including Eileen Martin. She was holding a stack of programs and talking to Dana Harding.

Dana was wringing her hands and acting completely beside herself, as Eloise had said. When Dana saw Nancy, she left Eileen and came running over, her eyes frantic with worry.

“Eloise told you?” Dana asked.

Nancy nodded. “When did you find out Sasha was missing?”

“Just a little after nine,” Dana said, “when Dmitri and Marina came looking for him here.
The last time they had seen him was last night, around eleven-thirty, they said. They were all going to bed then, or so they thought. They have no idea what time he left the house after that. Dmitri was up at seven this morning, he says, so it could have been any time between midnight and then.”

Around eleven-thirty, Nancy thought. Not long after she had seen them in the rehearsal room. What could have happened after that?

“I just don't know what to do!” Dana cried, running a hand through her hair. “I know Sasha likes to have fun, but I don't think he'd play this kind of joke. What if something awful's happened? Maybe I should cancel the performance tonight! Good heavens, how can I worry about the performance when Sasha could be in danger? Oh, I don't know what to do!” she said again.

Nancy put a hand on her shoulder. “Try to calm down,” she said. “And don't do anything about the performance yet. Have you called the police?”

“Yes. I waited as long as I could, hoping he'd turn up.” Dana took a shaky breath. “They should be here any minute.”

“Where are Dmitri and Marina?”

Dana looked around distractedly. “They were here just a minute ago,” she said. “Maybe they went into the auditorium. I
hope
that's where they went. If Marina's disappeared, too, I'll lose my mind!”

Nancy patted her shoulder and went into the auditorium. Bess and George were there, talking to some of the dancers. Nancy spotted the two Soviet dancers standing by the piano on the stage and started toward them.

She was halfway down the aisle when Dmitri saw her. Even in the dim light, Nancy could see that he was furious.

“You!” he said, as she came up to them. “I hold you fully responsible for this!”

His reaction was the last one Nancy had expected. Completely surprised, she just stared at him.

Dmitri started to go on, but Marina interrupted. “It was your mystery,” she said to Nancy. “The case you are trying to solve. Sasha could talk about nothing else.”

“Yes!” Dmitri agreed, his voice harsh with worry. “And to think I actually indulged him by driving him to that airplane factory that night, just so he could see what you were doing!”

Nancy finally found her voice. “Sasha was with you that night?”

Dmitri looked embarrassed. “So, you
did
see me. I was afraid of that,” he said. “Yes, Sasha was with me. But he was hiding in the back seat, out of sight.”

Nancy just shook her head, not quite understanding.

Dmitri sighed. “Sasha had this crazy idea of solving the mystery with you,” he explained.

“If only you hadn't encouraged him!” Marina cried.

“Encourage him?” Nancy said, climbing onto the stage. “I didn't encourage him, Marina. I told him just what Dmitri did—that he was here to dance, not to solve mysteries.”

Marina's dark eyes widened. “But your case—it was all he talked about to us!”

“To me, too,” Nancy told her. “But I didn't ask him to help me with it. I told him to forget it.”

Dmitri collapsed onto a folding chair. “Then we owe you an apology, Miss Drew.”

“I owe you one, too.” Nancy took a deep breath. “You see, I decided you were involved in this Jetstream case.”

“What?” Dmitri cried incredulously.

Nancy told them about how she had begun to suspect Dmitri after he followed her that night, and about how she had trailed
him
to the post office the day he mailed something to France.

“France?” Dmitri blinked in bewilderment. “I merely sent our hosts there a copy of our itinerary. We go to Paris from here, you know.”

“I know,” Nancy told him. “But Aviane is a French company, and you'd already been acting so suspiciously—Well, anyway, I suspected you of sending industrial secrets,” she concluded with a wry smile. “And last night just about convinced me.”

“Last night?” The chaperon frowned. “What do you mean?”

Might as well tell him everything, Nancy thought. Maybe it'll help find Sasha. “I saw the three of you here last night,” she explained. “I couldn't understand what you were saying, but I did hear the word
Jetstream.
And I thought you were . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Plotting something?” Exchanging glances with Marina, Dmitri almost smiled. “No,” he said. “I heard Sasha going out the door. It was late, and I couldn't understand where he might be going at that hour. Marina heard
me,
and together we followed Sasha over here. He was looking for evidence, he said.”

“He said he had learned something,” Marina told Nancy. “He was very excited, because he was sure it would help you break the case.”

“Did he tell you what the evidence was?” Nancy asked.

“We didn't even ask,” Marina said. “We just tried to convince him to stop.”

Nancy sat down on the piano bench, thinking hard. Could Sasha really have stumbled across something?.

As if he'd read her mind, Dmitri said, “Miss Drew, if Sasha
did
learn something, then it's possible his disappearance is connected to this case.”

“You could be right,” Nancy agreed grimly. “What happened after you talked to him here?”

“We all went back to our house,” Marina said. “Sasha said he was going to bed, but he must have sneaked out again.” She stopped, looking frightened. “If you and Dmitri are right, then he could be in danger!”

Nancy had already thought of that, but she didn't want to worry them any more by agreeing. “Listen,” she said, “I think you should go back to your house and check his room. He might have left some kind of message or clue about where he went.”

Dmitri appeared to be glad to have something to do besides stand around and worry. He walked up the aisle, and Marina followed him, but first she turned to Nancy.

“Please, Nancy, forgive me for being so cool to you before,” she said. “Sasha was very attracted to you from the first, and I was afraid he would get so distracted he would neglect his dancing.”

“It's all right,” Nancy said with a smile. “But I don't think you have to worry about his dancing. He's great.”

“Yes,” Marina agreed. “But he and I are very different. He gets interested in so many other things. And I truly thought you were encouraging him with this detective business.” She bit her lip nervously. “Do you think you will be able to find him?”

“I'll do everything I can,” Nancy promised. With a shaky smile, Marina thanked her, then continued up the aisle.

After she'd gone, Nancy put her chin in her hands and leaned her elbows on the piano keys. The noisy crash of notes made Yves Goulard stick his head in the door, but Nancy decided to ignore him. She wasn't hurting anything, and this was a good place to think. After a second the accompanist threw her a black look and withdrew. Staring blindly at the sheet music, Nancy tried to figure things out.

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