Mixed Signals Part 4

"This will take only a few minutes," Ned told Nancy and Bess. "The homecoming king and queen will have their real moment of glory when they lead the parade tomorrow."

"All hail the king and queen," Jerry joked, pausing to make a courtly bow.

It was early afternoon, and the foursome had just polished off a pizza and sodas for lunch at the student center. Now they were on their way to the oval to wait for the announcement of the homecoming king and queen.

As they climbed the small rise leading up to the oval, Nancy saw several dozen students milling around in front of the stone steps of Ivy Hall, a majestic old brick building on the oval-shaped drive. A guy with a clipboard stood talking to a small cl.u.s.ter of students at the top of the steps.

"Are those the contestants?" Bess asked, pointing to the group on the steps. "Boy, do they look nervous!"

"Happens every year. I think the homecoming committee puts something in their food to make them act that way," Jerry cracked.

"How are the winners chosen?" Nancy asked Ned.

"They're nominated by pet.i.tion. If you can get two hundred signatures, you're a finalist. The final selection is made by ballot. Each student can cast a vote."

The crowd grew quiet as a trumpet began to play. Looking toward Ivy Hall, Nancy saw that the trumpeter, dressed as a royal page, was standing in the center of the steps. When he finished the piece, he announced: "Hear ye! Hear ye! Make way for Emerson College's new king and queen!"

Nancy clapped as a guy on the homecoming committee took the microphone and introduced all the finalists. Tamara Carlson was the only person Nancy recognized.

"And the winners are-" The student read off two names that Nancy didn't recognize, but she applauded enthusiastically, spurred on by the spirit of the crowd.

On the steps, the king and queen joined hands and took a bow. Then the finalists gathered around to congratulate the winners.

"That concludes the royal ceremony," said the announcer. "See you tomorrow at the float parade!"

"Isn't it romantic?" Bess said as the crowd began to disperse. "Queen for the year-"

"Yeah," Jerry agreed, "but it has its drawbacks. The king has to wear funny purple tights for the parade."

Nancy joined in the laughter. Peering over Bess's shoulder, she could see the finalists descend the steps, and she watched as Tamara Carlson cut through the crowd, joining a guy and girl who stood only a few feet from Nancy and her friends. The attractive guy wore a red-and-white Russell U jacket. When the other girl turned, Nancy saw Tamara's sister, Susannah.

Tamara's pretty, dark-skinned face was scrunched up with disappointment, Nancy saw. She seemed to be on the verge of tears. Susannah reached out and took her sister by the arm.

"Don't feel bad, Tamara," she said sympathetically. "The other students are crazy not to have voted for you. I told you this school is lousy."

The cute guy nodded grimly. "Emerson stinks!" he said in disgust. "And they're going to lose the homecoming game on Sunday. I guarantee it!"

Chapter Seven.

NANCY'S MOUTH DROPPED OPEN. "Who's that guy in the Russell jacket?" she asked Ned.

"That's Zip Williams, Russell's starting quarterback," Ned said, following Nancy's gaze. "I've never met him personally, but everyone on campus knows who he is. Zip is practically a legend in his own time. They don't call him Zip for nothing. He's all over the field when he plays, and he's tough to stop."

"He also has a motive for hurting Randy," Nancy murmured. "I was hoping to find out a few things from him, like whether he was at last night's rally. He's just saved me a trip to Russell." Giving Ned's arm a quick squeeze, she said, "I'm going over to introduce myself."

Ned nodded, checking his watch. "Okay, but I've got to run. My English cla.s.s is on the other side of campus."

"And I've got practice," Jerry said apologetically. He turned to Bess. "See you there? I'll look for you in the bleachers."

"Sure," Bess agreed, blus.h.i.+ng. "I wouldn't miss it for anything."

As the guys left, Nancy and Bess went over to Susannah, Tamara, and Zip. "Hi, Susannah," Nancy said. "Did you get settled in?"

"Yes, thanks to you and your friends," Susannah replied with a smile. Turning to her sister, she said, "These are the people I was telling you about. Nancy and Bess, isn't it? This is my sister, Tamara, and her boyfriend, Zip Williams."

"Sorry you didn't win," Bess told Tamara, "but it must have been exciting to be a finalist."

Tamara shrugged. "It was okay."

"I've been hearing about you you ever since I arrived on campus," Nancy told Zip. "People are pretty psyched up about Sunday's game." ever since I arrived on campus," Nancy told Zip. "People are pretty psyched up about Sunday's game."

A c.o.c.ky grin spread across Zip's face as he said, "I hate to disappoint all the Wildcats fans, but Emerson doesn't have a chance of winning on Sunday."

"That's a little premature, isn't it?" Nancy asked, raising her eyebrows. "After all, anything can happen."

"That's true." Zip shoved his hands into the pockets of his Russell jacket. "Let me rephrase that. Randy Simpson Randy Simpson doesn't stand a chance on Sunday. He's a rookie. Our linebackers will chew him up and spit him out." doesn't stand a chance on Sunday. He's a rookie. Our linebackers will chew him up and spit him out."

When it came to compet.i.tion, Nancy could see that Zip Williams didn't mince words. Winning obviously meant a lot to him.

"Ooh! Sounds scary," Bess put in. "I can see why they call you a shark on the field."

Tamara's expression lightened a little as she tapped her boyfriend playfully on the head. "Zip may be a shark when he's playing football, but he's a marshmallow when he's with me."

"Don't tell them that!" Zip exclaimed, an expression of mock horror on his face. "You'll ruin my rep."

Despite Zip's arrogance, he had a certain charm. Nancy could see why Tamara liked him. But that didn't mean he wasn't responsible for the threats to Randy.

"Well, after seeing the pep rally here the other night, I think the Wildcats are ready for you," Nancy commented.

"Ha!" Zip scoffed. "Randy practically went up in flames, and that's just what's going to happen to him on Sunday."

Nancy blinked. Zip was talking as if he'd been at the rally himself! "Did you actually see the accident?" she asked him.

Zip s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably, then said, "Yeah. I came to see Tamara cheer." Turning to Tamara and Susannah, he said brusquely, "Don't we have to be someplace?" With a quick goodbye, the threesome walked away.

Turning to Bess, Nancy said in a low voice, "Did you see how weirdly he behaved when I asked him about the pep rally?"

Bess nodded. "And he sure acts as if he would go pretty far to ensure a win for the Pirates-to guarantee guarantee it, as he said himself." She and Nancy headed toward the football field, on the far side of the sports complex. "Do you think he set that fire?" it, as he said himself." She and Nancy headed toward the football field, on the far side of the sports complex. "Do you think he set that fire?"

"I don't know, but I think I have to find out more about him." Nancy plucked at her ivory-colored sweater as another thought occurred to her. "We'd better keep an eye on Susannah and Tamara, too," she said. "Susannah's certainly got a grudge against Emerson."

"And Tamara is Zip's girl," Bess said, finis.h.i.+ng Nancy's thought.

Nancy nodded. "They could be working with him. I have to consider the other guys on the Russell team, and I still haven't checked out any of the Wildcats."

Bess said, "The only Wildcat I'm I'm interested in checking out is Jerry McEntee. I'll leave the rest of them to you, Nan." interested in checking out is Jerry McEntee. I'll leave the rest of them to you, Nan."

The girls pa.s.sed through the gate at the far side of the sports center that led directly to the football field. Nancy could see the Emerson team down at one end of the field, dressed in their scrimmage uniforms.

"There's the drill team," Bess said, pointing to a gra.s.sy expanse beyond the playing field, where rows of girls were marching. She climbed halfway up the bleachers and took a seat. Resting her elbows on her knees, she stared intently at the players. "I don't see Jerry."

Nancy scanned the group of players as she sat down next to Bess. "Isn't he number thirty-four?" she said, pointing to a tall guy. Jerry's slender, angular frame stood out among the huskier players. "That's him at the end of the line."

Bess jumped up and waved. "Yes, you're right."

Cupping her chin in her hands, Nancy studied the players closely. Randy had said none of the players had a grudge against him, but she knew he couldn't really be objective about his teammates.

Still, as she watched, Nancy didn't notice any sign of anger or unnecessary roughness toward Randy. Judging by the friendly nudges and pats he received, Randy had a good rapport with his teammates. He played most of the scrimmage, except for defensive plays, when he sat with other players on the bench, wiped his face with a towel, and grabbed drinks from his water bottle.

"Looks like practice is over for the drill team," Bess said, dragging Nancy from her thoughts. "Hey, there's Kristin." She waved at the pretty blond majorette, who was pa.s.sing in front of the bleachers.

"How's the float going?" Bess called.

Kristin glanced up and waved. "It's almost finished," she called back. Tucking her baton under her arm, she jogged up into the stands and sat down next to Bess. "The rose pattern you guys came up with looks terrific."

As Bess chatted with Kristin, Nancy glanced around the stadium. Members of the drill team were now filing out of the stadium, she noticed, while girls in cheerleading uniforms were streaming in. Danielle Graves and Tamara Carlson were among the cheerleaders. Susannah, dressed in jeans and a striped sweater, was with Tamara. The sisters paused near the players' bench to watch a play. Then Tamara dashed off to join the other cheerleaders, leaving Susannah at the edge of the field.

"Rats!" A m.u.f.fled voice at the foot of the bleachers caught Nancy's attention. The team mascot was struggling furiously with the wildcat costume, twisting at its head.

"It looks like the Emerson Wildcat could use a hand," Nancy said to Bess and Kristin. "I'll be right back."

Climbing down, Nancy hopped onto the field and approached the wildcat. "Do you need help?"

"Please!" came the m.u.f.fled response. "My zipper is stuck."

Nancy found the problem-a clump of fake fur had caught in the track of the zipper. She managed to work it free, then smoothly opened the zipper so that the student could remove the wildcat head.

"Phew!" said the pretty, red-haired girl who emerged. "I thought I'd never get that thing off. Thanks a lot." The girl tucked the wildcat head under her arm and held out her hand. "By the way, I'm Carrie Broder, alias Emerson Wildcat."

"My name's Nancy Drew. Nice to meet you."

Carrie fluffed her curly red bangs and smiled. "I have to run, but maybe I'll see you at the game."

"I'll be there," Nancy said. As Carrie turned and jogged toward the sports complex, Nancy headed back up the bleachers. She had gone only a few steps when a voice distracted her.

"Can't you bend the rules a little?" someone said below her.

"I'm afraid not. Academic excellence is Emerson's number-one priority."

Both voices sounded familiar. Leaning over the aluminum divider at the edge of the bleachers, she saw Coach Mitch.e.l.l and Dean Jarvis standing in the walkway between sections of the stadium.

"He'll get his grades up," Coach Mitch.e.l.l insisted. "Believe me, I've read him the riot act on that. And he's dying to play this one game. What's the harm in letting him play this week?"

He must be talking about Josh, Nancy realized.

Dean Jarvis was shaking his head. "It would set a bad precedent-and it would send mixed signals to the other students. Besides, we have a decent replacement in Randy Simpson. Let's give him a shot." He gave the coach a friendly pat on the back. "Sorry, Dale, but Josh is benched until he gets his grades up."

Nancy's mind was racing as she climbed the rest of the way up the bleachers to join Bess and Kristin. The coach wanted his son to play in Sunday's game. Or maybe Josh himself was desperate to get back onto the team roster. If Randy were injured, perhaps the administration would reconsider and let Josh play. It was a possibility Nancy couldn't ignore. Both the coach and his son seemed to like Randy, Nancy reflected. But she had to add them to her list of suspects.

"What's the matter, you guys?" Nancy asked as she rejoined Bess and Kristin. Both girls were staring glumly at the field. Bess was frowning, and Kristin was shaking her head in disgust.

Without looking at Nancy, Kristin pointed at the players. "Our new quarterback is falling apart."

"But he was doing so well at the beginning of practice." Sitting down, Nancy watched Randy stumble through the next play.

She couldn't believe her eyes. Randy lumbered clumsily into the huddle and then dragged himself into position on the field. "Come on, Randy," Nancy said under her breath. "Look alive!"

Her eyes were glued to the field as the Wildcats ran the play. The center snapped the ball to Randy, who, instead of pa.s.sing it, tucked it under his arm and began to run with it. A very odd play, Nancy thought.

But not as odd as the way he was moving, as if he were going in slow motion. Nancy felt very uneasy as she watched him stumble forward, jerking unsteadily with each step. This wasn't the running pattern of someone who was tired, she realized. Something was seriously wrong.

After four or five more unsteady steps, Randy fell-facedown on the gra.s.s.

"No one even tackled him," Nancy heard Kristin say in disbelief.

The players cl.u.s.tered around Randy, waiting for him to get up, but Randy continued to lie p.r.o.ne.

He didn't budge.

Chapter Eight.

"SOMETHING'S REALLY WRONG!" Nancy shouted, jumping to her feet. "Randy pa.s.sed out!"

She took off down the bleachers and darted across the field to where the players were circled around Randy, their jerseys a wall of orange.

Coach Mitch.e.l.l ran in from the sidelines and grabbed a player. "Call an ambulance. Now!" he ordered, and the player went racing off to the locker room.

It wasn't easy for Nancy to push past the crowd of players in their bulky equipment, but she managed to edge close enough to get a look at Randy. The team's medic had turned him over, and Nancy could see that he was at least breathing.

"His pulse is steady but slow," said the medic. "Okay, guys, move back and give him some air."

Relieved, Nancy backed out of the crowd. Randy was still alive, but what had caused his sudden collapse?

She touched a nearby player's shoulder pad, asking, "Do you know what happened?"