Nancy Drew Files #63. Mixed Signals. Carolyn Keene

“That’s okay,” Nancy told him. “We’ve found some answers on our own. And we just stopped Josh from blowing up Randy.”

Nancy looked at her watch. “Uh-oh! It’s almost three-thirty. Coach Mitchell will be sending Randy in here any second. I have to get outside to make sure the other half of this crime team doesn’t slip past us. Bess can fill you in on what’s happened.”

“Are you sure you don’t need a hand?” Ned asked.

“Stay here and keep an eye on Josh until the police get here,” Nancy instructed as she backed out the door.

In the stadium, Nancy stood at the front of the bleachers, behind the players’ bench. With just over a minute left in the first half, the score was ten to six in favor of Emerson. Way to go, Randy! Nancy thought with a smile.

Nancy checked her watch as the coach called a time-out: 3:31. Just four minutes until the intended explosion time. Coach Mitchell motioned Randy off the field and spoke with him briefly. Nancy wasn’t surprised when Randy nodded at the coach, stripped off his helmet, and started jogging down the path toward the locker room.

As Randy passed her, Nancy shivered to think what might have happened to him if she hadn’t stopped Josh in time. She waited until Randy had disappeared, then walked onto the edge of the playing field and joined Coach Mitchell.

“Coach,” she said firmly, “you’re needed in the locker room right away.”

Nancy could see a flash of annoyance in his eyes as he peered down at her. “I can’t leave the field now! My team is in the middle of play.”

“But it’s an emergency,” Nancy persisted. “It’s Josh—I’m afraid he’s been hurt.”

For a moment the coach froze. He stole a quick glance up at the clock on the scoreboard, which now read 3:33.

“My son—” Coach Mitchell said in a horrified voice.

Before Nancy could say anything more, the coach turned and tossed his clipboard to the ground. “I have to save him,” he mumbled, then scrambled down the path toward the locker room.

Nancy followed as quickly as she could, catching up with the coach just as he threw open the door and bounded inside.

“What!” Coach Mitchell bellowed, skidding to a halt.

Looking over his shoulder, Nancy saw that the police had arrived. A tall, lanky officer was handcuffing Josh.

“Why, you little—” The coach spun around, his face mottled red and purple.

A moment later he lunged at Nancy, his large hands grabbing for her throat.

Chapter Eighteen

Nancy reared back in shock, and the coach’s hands closed over thin air. With lightning speed, she grabbed one of his arms and twisted it behind his back. A moment later the tall officer was clapping a pair of cuffs around Coach Mitchell’s wrists.

“You did it!” the coach sputtered, glaring at Nancy and struggling against the officer. “You turned these people against me!”

“That’s not true,” she said, facing him squarely. “You were using the Wildcats—manipulating the team’s performance so that you could make money.”

The coach let his gaze drop to the floor. “I have nothing to say,” he muttered.

“It’s too late for that, Dad,” Josh said wearily. “She’s already guessed everything. It’s all over now.”

“I’ve never been so scared in my life!” Bess insisted. “Nancy just pointed at the bomb and told him to defuse it! Can you believe that?”

Ned slipped an arm around Nancy’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Sounds pretty exciting to me.”

“For the moment I’m just glad it’s over,” Nancy said, smiling up at him.

She and Ned were sitting on the hood of her Mustang in the parking lot outside the stadium. Alumni and students were gathered in clusters for the traditional post-game tailgate party. Even though Emerson had lost, spirits were high.

“And all this was going on while we were playing the first half?” Jerry asked. “Sounds like the real action was happening off the field.”

Bess nodded. “By the time you guys filed in at halftime, the Mitchells had already been taken to the police station.”

“Dean Jarvis tells me that charges have been filed against Josh and his father,” Ned told Nancy. He rubbed a hand over her shoulder to warm her up. “They’re gone now, and I can’t say that I’ll miss them, even if Josh was a great quarterback.”

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