“What’s so special about that?” Ned wanted to know. “All that’s happening is—”
“There!” Nancy jabbed the freeze-frame button. “It’s not the play, it’s what happens when it’s over . . . see? Somebody knocks the camera and it picks up part of the audience.”
“Yes, but—”
“Look closely. Who’s that?” Nancy pointed to a blurry but recognizable figure.
“Ray Ungar!” Ned gasped. His astonishment faded quickly, though. “I don’t get it, Nancy. What does this prove?”
Nancy unzipped her jacket and dropped into the chair next to Ned’s. “Didn’t you tell me that Ray never goes to Wildcat games?”
“Yes. He once swore he’d never attend another one as long as he lives.”
“Yet there he is among the spectators! Don’t you find that odd?”
Understanding flashed in Ned’s eyes. “It was a deliberate deception, you mean? We were told we wouldn’t see him, therefore we didn’t?”
“Right! And it allowed Ray to do what he really wanted to do—sit in the bleachers and enjoy the effects of his practical jokes!”
Beaming, Ned leapt up and crushed her in a joyful hug. “Nancy, you’ve done it again! Now Mike is in the clear!”
It felt wonderful to have Ned’s arms around her again. As she hugged him back, though, something nagged at the back of her mind. After a minute, she pulled away.
“Ned, play it over again, will you?”
“Sure thing. Wait until everyone sees this!”
Nancy shook her head as the scene unfolded once more. The camera focused on Ray for only a second or two, but it was long enough for her to realize that she had been wrong.
“I’m sorry, Ned, but it looks to me like Ray is cheering Mike’s basket.”
Ned’s face fell. “What are you saying?”
“That Ray can’t be the practical joker. If he were, then why would he cheer for the Wildcats?”
“But, Nancy, you just said—”
“I know. I spoke too soon.”
They reran the tape several more times, but each viewing only reinforced Nancy’s belief that her theory was incorrect. Why Ray was supporting Emerson she didn’t know, but he was no longer her prime suspect.
Ned reacted angrily. “I don’t believe this! One minute you’re telling me Mike is okay, and the next you’re accusing him again!”
“I can’t help it. Facts are facts.”
“What facts? That tape doesn’t clear Ray.”
Not totally, she had to agree. It was possible—just possible—that even though he was cheering for Emerson he was still responsible for the pranks. But Nancy didn’t think so.
“Ned, Ray isn’t the practical joker. It’s just common sense,” she stated.
“Oh, sure. He dumps on the team, even holds a pistol to your head, and you call it common sense? Wake up, Nancy! Ray’s crazy! Can’t you see that?”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t make him guilty.”
“It doesn’t make him look very innocent, either.”
“Ned, all we have against Ray are suspicions. With Mike we have hard evidence!”
“That box of packing chips?” Ned snorted. “That’s not enough for me. If you’re going to change my mind, you’ll have to show me more.”
Furious, Nancy rose from her chair. All at once she was fed up with Ned’s attitude. Why did he have to be so pig-headed? Why did he have to fight her this way? She clenched her fists.
“All right, Nickerson. It’s evidence you want? Then evidence you’ll get!” She was trembling. “And don’t try to stop me!”
“Nancy, what are you planning?”
“Why should I tell you?” she cried.
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
She laughed bitterly. “Ha! I don’t think you care about me at all!”
With that, she whirled around and stormed from the room.
Nancy was still seething that night as she stood outside the sports complex. Over and over again she pictured Ned’s stubborn expression and heard his hostile words. I’ll show him, she thought.
Snow was swirling around her, but she didn’t go inside. Instead, she stood in the shadows, watching the building’s entrance. Once in a while she stamped her feet or rubbed her arms.
She checked her watch. The illuminated dial read 11:35 p.m. There was still time, she knew, but she was mildly worried. The building would close for the night in twenty-five minutes.