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  “Hurting Edgar isn’t going to do a thing for you!” Nancy yelled at Lonnie. “Face it. The game is over and you lost.”

  “No, young lady,” Doc contradicted her in a menacing tone. “I’m afraid you’ve got it all wrong. The game’s not over till it’s over.”

  With that, Doc reached into his inside jacket pocket. Nancy stared in horror as the man pulled out a small silver pistol and aimed it right at Edgar!

  Chapter

  Seventeen

  BEFORE NANCY COULD REACT, George flew out from under the bleachers, knocking Doc’s arm away from Edgar’s head. As the gun hurtled through the air, it discharged, leaving an acrid smell as it landed somewhere on the dark field.

  “George!” Nancy said gratefully.

  George was hanging oh Doc’s back. She and Edgar were both wrestling him to the ground. Bess and Cynthia also emerged from the bleachers, rushing to help.

  Nancy’s eyes shot to Pete, who was just about to move in to help Doc.

  “Bess!” Nancy shouted. “Get him!”

  Instantly Nancy and Bess ran at Pete, tackling him in perfect football fashion.

  Red-faced and dogged, Bess struggled to hold on to Pete’s ankles, taking a few kicks in the process, as Nancy tried to pin his arms. Just then the sweet music of police sirens sounded in the distance.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Nancy told the squirming Pete as she bent his arm behind his back and held it there.

  “Nancy, look! Lonnie, Bill, and Mark—they’re running away!” Bess shouted in distress.

  Nancy looked up to see Bill making for the parking lot and Lonnie about to escape under the bleachers. Mark was racing for the far goalpost.

  But the glare of sudden spotlights around the field and the words “Freeze! Police!” made all three stop in their tracks.

  “Looks like we got here a little late, Nancy,” said Chief Boyle. “You wouldn’t believe the traffic in this town.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say you were late, Chief,” Nancy said with a big smile. “I’d say you got here just in time.”

  • • •

  There was a huge party at Touchdown Saturday night. Mobs of crazed, triumphant Bedford fans were celebrating the victory of the Bears over Carlisle in the state championship game that day, despite the absence of the team’s three stars. Nancy and her friends were celebrating the successful ending to a difficult case.

  “Here’s to the new manager of Touchdown!” said Nancy, raising her soda glass high in the air. “Thanks for everything, Edgar. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”

  “Gee, thanks, Nancy,” said a bashful Edgar. In addition to his manager’s badge, he was sporting a big black eye. Still, Edgar was ecstatic. “Imagine, me, on the front page of the Bedford Herald—and managing Touchdown for American Theme Restaurants, too! Pretty good for a guy who’s got to be the world’s worst football player.”

  Everybody laughed heartily at that one. The very thought of Edgar Chessman on a football field was hysterically funny.

  “Can you sit down and join us?” asked Bess, making room for Edgar next to her.

  “Just for a few minutes,” he said, looking around warily as if he expected the boss to fire him for laziness. “It’s a busy night. We’re going to need you back at work, Cynthia.”

  “Thanks, Edgar,” said Cynthia, sitting on Bess’s other side, holding hands with Rob.

  Rob had been at the game, cheering louder than anyone for the guys on the team. Dennis Di Vito had replaced him at quarterback. He had performed heroically, winning the game with a scrambling run in the last seconds.

  Lonnie and Bill hadn’t even bothered to show up. All three stars had been thrown off the team and put on probation for the rest of the year.

  Still, Rob seemed happier than he had in a long time. “It’s a real relief, now that it’s all over,” he said, giving Cynthia’s hand a squeeze. The two of them looked as if they were the lovingest couple in town.

  “Nancy, I’m going to pay you back for the damage to your car, I promise,” he said shamefacedly. “I was the one who told Lonnie to smash your window. I was terrified you’d find the pills and that Cynthia would figure everything out.”

  “From now on we’re not hiding anything from each other,” Cynthia said, looking into Rob’s eyes.

  “From now on I’m never going to do anything I have to hide,” Rob promised her.

  “Rob,” Nancy asked, “how did it happen? How did you get into steroids in the first place?”

  “Well, one thing led to another, I guess,” Rob said, the painful memory showing on his handsome face. “Pete was always hanging around, telling us how great we were, how big we were going to be. When he told us he wanted to be our agent, we were flattered. I don’t think any of us realized what we were signing on for when we agreed to have him as our agent if we ever went pro.”

  “Thank goodness those contracts will be declared null and void!” Bess said.

  “My dad showed them to a lawyer,” Cynthia explained, “and he said they’d never hold up in court.”

  “Go on, Rob,” George prodded him. “You were saying?”

  “Anyway,” Rob continued, “when Pete gave us the steroids, I was kind of scared, but he told us they were okay, that he knew lots of pros and college players who used them. He said they’d make us play at the top of our ability. And he was right about that. The games definitely felt more intense.”

  “Intense isn’t the word for it,” George murmured, “The Bedford-Montvale game was more like a street brawl than football.”

  “I know,” Rob said regretfully. “We were pretty pathetic. I just wasn’t thinking right. I felt weird and dizzy all the time, but I also felt like I couldn’t stop taking them. There were all those scouts and the interviews and the flattery—it really gets to you. Like I said, I’m just glad it’s over.”

  Just then Coach Novak made his way over to their table. “Mind if I bust in for a second?” he said, all smiles.

  “Hi, Coach,” Nancy greeted him.

  “I just wanted to thank you, Nancy, and tell you I’m sorry I ever mistrusted you.”

  “It’s okay, Coach,” Nancy said with a grin. “I understand how you felt. Congratulations, by the way. The second string really came through, didn’t they? That kid Dennis DiVito was like greased lightning.”

  “Ha!” crowed the coach. “Goes to show you, there’s a lot to be said for emotion in this game. And you,” the coach continued, buttonholing Rob. “Stay off that stuff from now on, you hear me? You have a great future ahead of you.”

  “I’m going to make you proud of me, Coach,” said Rob, his voice choking up. “You wait and see.”

  “Everybody makes mistakes. As long as you learn by them, that’s what counts,” said the coach. “Well, I’ve got to get back to my public. Take care, all.”

  “I’d better get going, too,” said Edgar, standing up. “I want to show the corporation good profits this month.”

  “See you later,” Nancy told him, turning to her friends. “By the way, guys, did I tell you I’m going to visit Ned next week?”

  “Next week? When?” Bess asked excitedly.

  “Right after we give our testimony. We’re going to his family’s place in the country. It sure will be nice to get away from football for a while.”

  A roar went up in the front of the restaurant. “What’s that?” George asked.

  The answer was apparent when Edgar nailed up a banner that read “Bedford Bears, State Champs.”

  “We may be the state champs,” Cynthia said, turning to Nancy with a wide grin, “but you’re the world champ of detectives!”

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  ISBN: 978-0-6716-7497-7 (pbk)

  ISBN: 978-1-4814-2802-6 (eBook)