“Don’t worry, it isn’t your fault,” the head cheerleader consoled her. “It could have happened to anyone.”
Nancy pushed through the crowd around the unhappy girl. “Excuse me . . . where did you put the costume while you were on your break?”
“In the cheerleaders’ locker room, as always,” the girl said, wiping her eyes with her fingers.
“Was the room locked?”
“No, it never is, as far as I know.”
“Did you notice anyone hanging around in the corridor outside it?”
“No! The hall was empty and so was the locker room.”
“Too bad,” Nancy muttered. Obviously, the practical joker had struck again. She had hoped to gain some clues to his or her identity, but it appeared that none had been left.
Disappointed, she turned away. As she did, she saw that the team members were staring at the damage to their mascot. Their expressions ranged from shock to fear. Probably they were wondering if the next practical joke would involve one of them being slashed, she guessed.
Someone else was looking at the damage, too, she discovered a moment later—Tom Stafford. He was hovering inconspicuously at the edge of the crowd, but thanks to her earlier encounter with him she picked him out right away. Could he have slashed the costume? There was no way to be sure, of course, but the satisfied expression on his face made her very suspicious.
Nancy decided to question him. By the time she reached the spot where he had been standing, however, he was gone.
When the game began again it quickly became clear that Emerson had lost its edge. St. George’s scored three times in less than one minute, and a series of fouls by Emerson players only made the situation worse. With ten minutes left, Emerson’s lead had dropped to a slim four points.
Nancy cheered herself hoarse. If Emerson didn’t pull together soon, she knew, they’d lose the game—and with it their chances of making the NCAA playoffs.
The score seesawed, but finally, with just five minutes left to play, Emerson began to rally. Coach Burnett called for a full court press—an aggressive defense pattern. It was a risky move, but it worked. Frustrated, St. George’s lost its momentum. The rhythm of the game shifted. Once again Emerson regained the upper hand. When the final buzzer sounded, the score was Emerson 79, St. George’s 73.
Afterward, Nancy and her friends went with Ned to his fraternity, Omega Chi Epsilon, for the victory celebration.
“All right, let’s party!” George said as they entered the darkened, jam-packed common room.
“You said it. That game was tense. I need to relax,” Bess agreed.
The two snaked their way through the noisy crowd to the refreshment table. Nancy stayed where she was, staring blankly at the partyers. She felt Ned’s hand on her shoulder.
“Everything okay? You aren’t in much of a party mood,” he observed.
Nancy smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I guess my mind’s still on the game.”
“Why? We won, didn’t we?”
“Sure, but you almost lost because of that so-called practical joke. I should have known something like that was going to happen.”
“Nancy, you couldn’t have prevented it.”
“Maybe not, but if I had been prepared I might have picked up some clues! As it stands, I’ve got exactly one suspect and zero evidence.”
Ned lowered his eyebrows. “Lighten up on yourself, will you? You’ve only been on the case for a few hours! You’ll crack it.”
“I know. I just hope I crack it before another disaster occurs.”
“Well, there won’t be any disasters at this party, that much I know. In fact, I have a feeling that something nice is about to happen to you.”
“Oh, yes?” Nancy felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. “Like what?”
“Come here and I’ll show you.”
She expected him to kiss her, but that wasn’t what he had in mind. Instead he took her hand and led her to a quiet corner. They sat together on an overstuffed sofa.
“Here, this is for you.” Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, Ned pulled out a small package. It was wrapped in white paper and tied with a pink ribbon.