Read Cutting Edge Online

Authors: Carolyn Keene

Cutting Edge (14 page)

Sixteen

F
OR A MOMENT
George could do nothing but stare at Veronica, her cheeks bright red. “I'm leaving,” she said finally, and headed for the door.

“I guess I'll go, too,” Nancy said.

“See you tomorrow,” Trish said, getting up to close the door behind Nancy and George.

Out in the hall George stormed over to the elevator and jabbed at the Down button. “Oooh, I don't know who I'm madder at, him or her!” she fumed. “Did you see her face when she put on that belt? That superior little smirk? I could have strangled her right on the spot.”

Nancy put a comforting arm around George's
shoulders. “Calm down. Remember, you wouldn't want to trade places with Veronica Taylor, anyway,” she said. “Not with the kind of trouble she's going to be in.”

“What do you mean, Nan?” George asked.

“I mean that people can't get away with the things she's done, no matter how talented they are,” Nancy said.

“You said yourself that you don't have proof,” George pointed out.

“True, not yet, George, but I have plenty of evidence,” Nancy said. “One piece of proof—just me—and I'll be able to go to the police.”

The elevator appeared and the girls got in. “Ugh. What a night,” George moaned. “Nancy, is my mascara all runny?”

Nancy glanced at her friend's eyes and nodded.

“When we get to the lobby, I'll go wash it off,” George said. “I hate wearing this stupid stuff, anyway. I'm not going to look like a raccoon just because of a jerk like Kevin Davis.”

As soon as they got off the elevator, George headed for the ladies' room in the lobby. “I'll be out in a second,” she said.

“I'll wait here,” Nancy told her.

As George disappeared inside, Kevin appeared around a corner of the lobby. “Nancy!” he cried in surprise. “I thought you'd be back in River Heights. Where's George?”

“She's in there,” Nancy told him, pointing to the ladies' room. “She was kind of upset when she saw the gift you sent to Veronica, Kevin.”

“What gift?” Kevin asked. “I never got Veronica any gift.”

Nancy blinked. Kevin seemed sincerely perplexed. “You didn't?”

“Why would I do something like that?” he asked indignantly. “You know, I'm convinced that Veronica's just using me to get extra media attention. It's fame she wants—not me.”

Just then George stepped out of the ladies' room, clear eyed. “Hi, Kevin,” she said, not meeting his gaze.

“George,” Kevin said earnestly, “Nancy said that Veronica told you I gave her a gift or something? Well, I didn't—”

“Oh, please, Kevin,” George said, “Let's not get into this right now, okay? All I really want to do is go home and get a good night's sleep.”

With that she led Nancy out of the hotel by the elbow. “I had to get out of there, Nan,” she said, sliding into Nancy's car. “The urge to clobber Kevin was getting the better of me.”

“Then you did the right thing by leaving,” Nancy told her.

As they drove home, George asked Nancy, “Why did you want to see what was in that box from Kevin?”

“Something about that gift was weird,” Nancy told George. “First of all, if someone you had a crush on gave you a present, what would you do?”

“Rip it open right away.”

“Me, too,” Nancy agreed. “So why was it wrapped and sitting in her closet?”

“I don't know,” George admitted.

“Secondly, Veronica was surprised to see it—or at least she pretended to be. Which would mean Kevin sneaked into her room and left it in her closet. That in itself is bizarre. Even if he could get into the room somehow, wouldn't he leave it out in plain sight?”

“I suppose so,” said George.

“It occurred to me that maybe Veronica wrapped the present and addressed it to herself from Kevin. That's why I needed to see what was in it.”

“But why would she do such a strange thing?” George asked.

“Good question,” said Nancy. “To make you more jealous? To make Kevin look bad in some way? I have no idea.”

• • •

“I'm not happy, George,” Nancy said the next morning on the trip to the arena. “I still haven't come up with the one piece of proof to back up my suspicions and evidence about Veronica.”

The two friends went over the details of the case again and again. “Everything points to Veronica and Dieter working together, and it all adds up, too,” Nancy said. “But without that one bit of proof, she and Dieter might just get away with everything.”

As Nancy pulled into the arena parking lot, George patted her shoulder comfortingly. “You'll
come up with the proof, Nan,” she said gently. “I know you will.”

“Thanks, George,” Nancy said as she got out of the car. “Are you going to watch the women's finals from the Worldwide booth?”

George acted shocked. “Are you kidding?” she cried. “I intend to stay far, far away from Kevin Davis from now on.”

“I think you're being a little too hard on him, George,” Nancy said as they stepped into the crowded lobby.

“Well, I don't,” George replied, miffed.

“George, look!” Nancy said suddenly. “I think I see Mr. O'Connell going into the arena. I'd really like to fill him in on what we've come up with and see if he has any new information for us. Let's catch up to him.”

Trish's father was swallowed up in the thousands of spectators who had come to see the crowning event of the American Skating Federation championships—the women's singles long program.

“There he is, George,” Nancy said a moment later. She wove through the crowd after the Fiber-Op executive. Before they could reach him, an announcement came over the sound system.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we'd like to welcome a very special visitor to the arena. She's someone we expect to see on the ice next year. Will you please give a warm round of applause for Miss Yoko Hamara!”

“There she is,” George said, pointing to Yoko,
who was sitting in the stands near the judges' station, waving to the cheering throng. A three-dimensional picture of the young skater waved from the Optoboard above.

“She looks great,” George said happily, as she and Nancy joined in the cheering. “Next year, she'll sweep this contest, you'll see.”

“I believe it,” Nancy said.

When the cheering died down, she began searching for Mr. O'Connell again. “Too bad I lost him!” she groaned.

“I see him,” George told her, pointing. “He's all the way on the other side of the arena, right under the Optoboard.”

The two friends hurried over to Trish's father, but by the time they made it through the crowds, the long program was about to begin. The first skater announced was Trish O'Connell.

“We can't talk to him during Trish's performance,” Nancy whispered to George.

Trish skated out of the holding area wearing the spectacular blue costume that she had shown Nancy and George and took her starting position. “Doesn't she look beautiful?” George murmured.

“She certainly does,” Nancy agreed.

The stirring strains of
Rhapsody in Blue
soon filled the arena, and Trish took off, delivering as complex and skillful a program as Nancy had ever seen.

“Someday she'll be an Olympic gold medalist,” George said softly as Trish leapt and spun,
dazzling the audience with every new twist and turn. “I'd bet on it.”

When the program was over, the audience roared its approval. Soon the judges held up the cards with their almost perfect scoring results. Mr. O'Connell, who was sitting just a couple of rows in front, leapt to his feet, cheering along with Nancy and George.

Next on the ice was Elaine Devery. As she skated to her starting position, Nancy moved closer to Mr. O'Connell and tapped him on the shoulder.

“I've got to talk to you,” she said softly. “I learned a lot yesterday, and you should know about it.” Without disturbing the other spectators, Mr. O'Connell rose and signaled Nancy to walk with him to one of the arena archways. George followed.

“We can talk here,” he told the girls when they got to the concession area.

Nancy filled the Fiber-Op executive in on all of her ideas. “Dieter needed an accomplice,” she said, “and it had to be someone who didn't have a police record. As for Veronica, she needed sponsorship, badly. Without it, her skating career was headed for a quick end. They made a perfect team.”

Inside the arena, the crowd was cheering again. “That's for Elaine,” George said.

Mr. O'Connell's face was obviously disappointed. “I can't tell you how shocked and upset I am to hear that you think Veronica is behind all
this—especially that she may get away with it. I treated that girl like my own daughter. I mean, I can believe that an unscrupulous company like Krause-Deutschland would try to steal the Opto—”

“Excuse me, Mr. O'Connell,” Nancy said, touching his arm. “What was that you just said?”

“I said how disappointed I am in Veronica,” he began, but Nancy interrupted him.

“No,” she said, “the name of the company?”

“Krause-Deutschland?” he asked.

“K.D.!” Nancy cried. “That's it! Come on, George. We've got to get hold of the police right away. In fact, see if you can find an officer and have him meet me at the holding area right away!”

Without a single question, George was off in search of the authorities.

“Come on,” Nancy said, pulling on Mr. O'Connell's sleeve. “Veronica's not going to get away with anything. Neither is Dieter Grunsbach. Your stolen Opto chips are right inside this arena. I know exactly where, too!”

Nancy hurried back into the arena. When she got to the holding area, George was already approaching, with two police officers in tow. Quickly Nancy explained to them what was happening.

Out on the ice, Veronica Taylor was just taking her starting position. She was resplendent in a black costume with a sparkling red- and black-sequined belt.

“Should we grab her now?” one officer asked.

“No,” Nancy answered calmly. “Let her have her last moments of glory. She won't be having any for a long, long time.”

Veronica skated brilliantly. When her marks were posted, she had catapulted into second place, right behind Trish O'Connell. Roses fell at her feet as she waved to the cheering crowd, smiling and crying at the same time.

When she skated back into the holding area, Nancy, George, Mr. O'Connell, and the police were ready for her. The smile disappeared from Veronica's face when she realized they were waiting for her. “Is—Is something wrong?” she asked. Suddenly, her skates seemed unsteady beneath her feet, and her gaze kept shifting from Nancy to the police to Mr. O'Connell.

“How could you do it, Ronnie?” Mr. O'Connell asked her. “After we've been so close all these years.”

“I—I don't know what you're talking about,” Veronica stammered, backing up. There was no place for her to run except back onto the ice, and Terri Barton was already out there, skating.

“The belt, please,” the policewoman said, extending her hand.

“The b-belt?” Veronica was breathing hard, and her eyes were darting desperately about.

“The belt, Veronica,” Nancy repeated.

In a daze, Veronica unhooked the sequined belt and held it out to Nancy. Just as Nancy reached for it, Veronica seemed to remember
what was at stake. “Why should I give it to you? You don't have a warrant! I don't have to give you a thing!” she spat out, yanking the belt back out of Nancy's reach.

As she did, the buckle smacked into the concrete wall. It came apart, and out fell a small circuit board that had been cleverly concealed inside.

“The Opto chips!” Mr. O'Connell cried as one officer scooped the circuit board up.

“Ronnie, why?” Mr. O'Connell asked, hurt and bewildered.

Veronica stared at him in stubborn silence for a moment. “I was sick of always being ‘poor Ronnie,' ” she finally snapped. “You—You live this charmed life. Maybe I wanted you and your darling daughter to know what it's like to suffer a little.”

“And Yoko and Elaine?” Mr. O'Connell asked. “Did you want them to suffer, too?”

Veronica's whole body seemed to deflate. “I didn't mean to hurt anybody,” she murmured. “I didn't want to hurt Yoko. Believe me, I never meant to—I needed a sponsor. You don't understand. I needed it.” She couldn't go on. Sobbing, she sank to her knees.

“Come with us, Miss Taylor,” said an officer, helping Veronica to her feet. “We can talk it all out at the police station. It'll be more private there.”

Nancy and George watched them go, the two officers guiding Veronica between them, followed
by Brett O'Connell, holding the precious circuit board in his hand. “We'd better go, too, George,” Nancy said. “They'll need us to answer some questions.”

• • •

Two hours later Nancy and George returned to the arena. They went straight down to the women's locker room. Trish was still there, in her street clothes now. She was being congratulated by the other skaters.

“I won, Nancy!” she cried as Nancy and George entered the room. “Can you believe it?”

“I believe it, all right,” Nancy told her. “There was never any doubt in my mind.”

“Who else is going to Berlin for the world championships?” George wanted to know.

“Elaine is,” Trish told them. “She came in third, right behind Ronnie.” Her expression suddenly darkened. “Oh, they told me the police took Ronnie away. Did they—”

“She had the Opto chips on her, Trish,” George told her. “The circuit board was in the buckle of that belt. Her pal Dieter must have left it in the room when he dropped off her contract last night.”

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