Cutting Edge Page 2

  “Elaine was practicing on that patch right before Veronica,” the other girl added.

  “Look!” George broke in. “She’s getting up!”

  The medics were helping Veronica to her feet. She was obviously in pain, but she seemed to be moving all right. The medics led her across the ice to the holding area on the south end of the rink, and then out toward an exit ramp.

  “Thank goodness,” Elaine said.

  “Look, Elaine,” said the petite dark-haired skater. “There is something out there on the ice, right where Veronica fell!” Without waiting for a reply, she sped out onto the ice.

  “Yoko, wait!” Elaine called after her, but Yoko was already at the spot where Veronica had fallen. She bent down, picked something up, and stared at it quizzically. She skated back to the others, holding out her hand with what she’d found.

  “A paper clip?” George said, puzzled.

  “May I see it?” Nancy asked. Yoko dropped it into her hand.

  “That’s funny,” Elaine said. “Why would there be a paper clip on the ice? A hair clip, I could see. We all wear them. But a paper clip?”

  “Maybe one of the judges dropped it,” Yoko suggested. “I saw Mr. Fleischman out here before.”

  “Yes, but the Zamboni machine swept the ice clean after that,” Elaine reminded her.

  Trish checked in the direction of the exit ramp down which the medics had taken Veronica. “Let’s go see if Ronnie’s okay,” she suggested.

  “Right.” Elaine shoved off onto the ice, followed by Yoko. Trish jogged along the rubber matting around the outside of the rink.

  George stared after the three skaters. “They seem nice, don’t they?” she commented. “Not like ruthless competitors, that’s for sure. I mean, the way that girl Elaine worried that it might have been her fault—”

  “It couldn’t have been her fault,” Nancy put in. “A rut in the ice wouldn’t have stopped a skater cold. This paper clip, though . . .” She turned it over in her hand thoughtfully.

  “There’s Kevin,” George said, pointing up to the press box that hung out over the bleachers. Kevin was standing behind a large Plexiglas window, motioning to them. “He wants us to go up there,” George added excitedly. “Cool! Come on, Nan.”

  The girls walked along the front row of seats to an archway that led to the arcade behind the stands. Lining the arcade were the concessions, restrooms, and escalators to the balcony and bleacher seating. George led Nancy to a small, unobtrusive elevator. After showing their passes to a guard, they rode up one flight to the press level.

  “Kevin told me the VIPs and the lighting and sound people are all up here,” George told Nancy as the door opened onto a curved hallway with thick red carpeting.

  They passed a door with two security men guarding it. “ ‘Optoboard Control Room,’ ” Nancy said, reading the sign on the door. “Whoa. Top secret, huh, George? Can’t wait to see this Optoboard in action.”

  As they continued moving along the circular hallway, George became perplexed. “Wait a minute. Where do we go, Nan?” she asked. “I’m lost.”

  Nancy shrugged. “Let’s keep going this way,” she said.

  Just then a man came barreling out of a doorway on their left, crashing right into Nancy. She stumbled backward and caught herself against the wall. Her eyes met those of the startled reporter she’d noticed at the orientation earlier—the one with the beard and the foreign accent.

  “I’m sorry,” he tossed out. “I seem to be lost. Do you know where the press lounge is?”

  “Sorry,” Nancy told him. “We haven’t been on this level before.”

  “Oh, well,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sure I’ll find it if I keep looking.” He went down the hall in the direction from which the girls had come.

  Nancy and George shrugged at each other. Nancy then took in the sign on the door the man had barreled out of. “Danger! Keep Out!” was printed on it in bold red letters.

  “Maybe he can’t read English?” George suggested, following Nancy’s gaze.

  “I doubt it,” Nancy said. “He’s supposedly a reporter, and he certainly speaks English well enough. I wonder what’s in that room?”

  “Maybe Kevin will know. There’s the Worldwide control room,” George said, quickening her step and pointing just ahead. “I see their sign on the door.”

  Inside, Kevin was leaning against the wall, talking to Mike, who was holding a small video camera and tripod. When Kevin saw the girls poke their heads in the door, his face lit up with a smile.

  “There you are. Great!” Kevin said. “Listen, I’m hoping you can help me with something.”

  “Sure,” George said. “What’s up?”

  “I’d like to line up some interviews with the women skaters, but they tend to hang out in the women’s locker room. Would you do me a favor and go down there to see if anyone’s willing to give me an interview?”

  “Sure,” George said, grinning at her boyfriend. “Anyway, I’d love to see what champion skaters are like off the ice.”

  Kevin nodded. “This should be a great time to get them all together. Otherwise, I’ll have to run all over tracking them down individually.”

  “We’ll be happy to help,” Nancy said.

  “Terrific,” Kevin replied with a grin. “I’ll get my schedule and a pen and we can go right now. Feel free to grab a sandwich in the meantime.”

  While Kevin fished through a nearby desk for a pen, Nancy and George each picked up a sandwich from a table against one wall. As Nancy munched on her tuna, she took a quick peek past the large black TV cameras and through the bank of windows that looked down on the arena. “What a view,” she murmured, taking in the rink below.

  At the moment there were no skaters on the ice. Instead, a group of workers was busily rolling out a large scaffolding unit.

  “They’ve shut the rink down for the next few hours so they can finish installing the Optoboard,” Mike explained.

  “You’ll have a perfect view of it,” George remarked.

  “So will everyone else,” Kevin said. “At least that’s what the people from Fiber-Op claim. They say that when those three-dimensional figures appear, they’ll be visible from every seat in the arena.” He clipped a pen onto his jacket pocket.

  “All ready?” George asked Kevin. He nodded and pushed open the door for her and Nancy.

  “There’s an elevator right out here,” he said, leading them to the left.

  “Kevin, what’s in that room down the hall marked Danger?” Nancy asked as they stepped into the elevator.

  “I don’t know,” Kevin admitted. He turned to Mike, who shrugged.

  “We saw a reporter coming out of there and wondered what he was doing,” Nancy explained.

  “Maybe he was really lost, like he said,” George commented. “Give that detective brain a rest, okay?”

  Nancy smiled. “Okay. You’re probably right.”

  Soon they were on the lower level, following signs to the women’s locker room.

  “Try to chat with them a little,” Kevin advised George. “Let them know I won’t take up much of their time or anything, okay?” He paused at a large oak door marked Women Only. “Here you are,” Kevin announced.

  “Wish us luck,” George said. She turned bright red as Kevin bent to give her a kiss. With a final wave to Kevin, the girls pushed through the door.

  The spacious locker room was immaculately clean and appeared to be freshly painted. There were long hardwood benches in front of rows of turquoise lockers. Between groups of lockers were large mirrors with small, laminated shelves at the sides.

  The first person Nancy saw was Veronica Taylor, because the skater was lying on a bench against the back wall straight ahead of them. Under her head was a small folded towel and an ice pack. Her eyes were shut, and she appeared to be sleeping.

  Trish O’Connell was standing at a mirror almost right beside the door, fluffing her red curls with a wide-tooth comb.

  “Knock
, knock,” Nancy said loudly enough to get Trish’s attention. “Mind if George and I come in?”

  “Of course not,” Trish said with a smile.

  “How’s Veronica doing?” she asked, stepping farther inside, with George close behind her.

  “She’s got a mean-looking bump, but the medic said she’ll be fine,” Trish answered. “She’s resting now.”

  “We’ve been asked to deliver a message to all the skaters,” George said.

  Intrigued, Trish called out loud to everyone. “Listen up. For those of you who haven’t met them, this is George and Nancy. They want to tell us something.”

  The other skaters peeked out from various locations around the locker room. Yoko and Elaine were there, and Nancy recognized a few of the others who had been practicing earlier. There were Suzanne Jurgens, who skated in both singles and pairs; Alicia Mendez, winner of the Southwest Division championship; and Heather Lupton, from Vermont.

  “Actually, we want to ask you something,” George explained. “Kevin Davis, a reporter from Worldwide Sports, would like to schedule interviews with you. He’s waiting outside now, so if you—”

  “Kevin Davis?” Veronica murmured foggily. Her eyes blinked open and she raised her head up, wincing. “He’s outside the locker room now?”

  “Yes,” George replied. “If any of you want to schedule—”

  George broke off as Veronica swung her legs to the floor and stood up, wobbling slightly. “He’s the cutest thing on TV!” she said, checking herself out in a nearby mirror. “How do I look?”

  Before anyone could answer, Veronica tossed her dark silky hair back over her shoulders and made her way a bit unsteadily to the door.

  “Ronnie, shouldn’t you be lying down?” asked a freckle-faced skater who appeared to be about thirteen years old.

  “Oh, it’s okay, Terri,” Veronica said. “I feel better now. It was just a little bump.” With that, she was out the door.

  “That was an amazing recovery,” George murmured under her breath. Nancy noticed that George wasn’t particularly happy.

  “Good for Veronica,” said Trish, pulling her hair back with a clip. “Maybe arranging an interview will cheer her up. She could use something good to happen to her right about now.”

  “You mean because of that fall?” Nancy asked.

  “Well, that,” Trish said, “and also what happened to her coach.”

  “What happened?” George asked.

  Yoko joined in the conversation from the bench where she was sitting. “She just found out he’s got pneumonia,” she volunteered. “He won’t be able to be here at all.”

  “Which is about the worst thing that can happen to a skater,” added a pert girl with short curly brown hair. Nancy recognized her from her picture in the program as Ann Lasser from Florida. “We really depend on our coaches during a competition.”

  “Veronica doesn’t have anybody here to give her any moral support, either,” Trish added. “Her folks died in a plane crash a few years ago, and the aunt she lives with couldn’t make it to the competition.”

  Nancy shook her head slowly. “She hasn’t had it very easy, has she?”

  “No,” Trish told her. “But don’t feel too badly for her. I’ve known Ronnie since I was six years old and she was ten. She always bounces back. She’s very resilient.”

  “I noticed that,” George said with a frown. “The way she bounced right up at the mention of Kevin’s name was very resilient.”

  “Come on, George,” Nancy suggested. “Let’s go out and see how they’re doing. We’ll catch you later, okay?” she told the other skaters. “And please, go see Kevin. He’s out there now with his appointment book.”

  Waving goodbye to the skaters, Nancy and George stepped back out into the corridor. Nancy watched as George immediately stiffened her spine. A few feet away Veronica was standing so close to Kevin that she seemed to be pressed against him. She was smiling up at him with an adoring expression.

  “George!” Kevin said with a trace of discomfort in his voice. He stepped away from the pretty skater and fixed his eyes on George. “How’d it go? Is anybody else going to sign up for an interview?”

  “It went just fine,” George said, her jaw clenched.

  Veronica turned from Kevin to George. Then she covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh! I didn’t realize—”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Kevin told Veronica in a businesslike voice. Then he took George’s arm and led her down the corridor. Nancy stayed behind, guessing that he wanted to be alone with George to explain what had just happened.

  “I had no idea that he had a girlfriend,” Veronica said, acting totally embarrassed. “I guess I was flirting, a little. Your friend won’t be mad, will she?”

  “I doubt it,” Nancy answered. “George isn’t the jealous type. Anyway, how could you have known?”

  “Oh, well,” Veronica said with a guilty smile. “He is adorable, though.” She slipped her hands deep into the pockets of the oversized red sweater she was wearing over her black leggings.

  “What’s this?” Veronica said, pulling a sheet of paper out of one of her sweater pockets. She glanced at it and shock registered on her face. “Nancy, look at this,” she said in a barely audible whisper, holding the paper out to her.

  Nancy stared down at the bold block letters: VERONICA TAYLOR, GET OUT OF THE CONTEST NOW. YOU’RE SKATING ON THIN ICE.

  Chapter

  Three

  VERONICA, how long could this paper have been in your pocket?” Nancy asked.

  The skater’s voice shook as she replied. “I—I really don’t know. I took the sweater to the rink this morning in case I got cold and just threw it over the railing near where I was working.”

  “Do you have any idea who could have written this?” Nancy probed, searching the skater’s face.

  Veronica bit her lip and hunched up her shoulders. “I have absolutely no idea. I hate to think it could be one of the other skaters. We have too much in common to try to hurt one another. I mean, even though we’re competitors, I like to think we all hope for the best for one another.”

  “I understand,” Nancy said, staring at the note in her hands. “But maybe—just maybe—not everyone feels that way.”

  Veronica took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I probably shouldn’t mention it, but I know Elaine doesn’t like me very much,” she said. “She can’t stand the fact that I beat her at the nationals two years in a row. But I don’t think she’d ever . . .” Veronica’s voice trailed off and she stared at the ground.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter who wrote it. I think you’d better be careful,” Nancy said, handing the note back to the skater.

  “Boy,” Veronica murmured, “if someone is trying to shake me up, they certainly are succeeding. Between that fall and this note, I’m getting really spooked!”

  “Yoko found a paper clip on the ice,” Nancy told her. “That’s why you fell.”

  Veronica’s dark eyes widened. “What! There was a paper clip on the ice? But everyone who works for the federation makes sure there’s no debris on the ice.”

  “Well, either they goofed or somebody tossed it there so you’d fall,” Nancy said.

  Biting her lip, Veronica whispered, “Promise me you won’t mention any of this to Kevin or anyone else in the press, okay? Something like this reflects badly on all of us. Besides, maybe if I just ignore it, this stupid stuff will all stop.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Nancy replied, trying to keep the skepticism out of her voice.

  “I mean, the last thing I need is one more upsetting incident,” Veronica went on. “Tomorrow are the compulsories. They’re my weakest area, even when my coach is around. I really need to concentrate on my skating, not on some stupid note.”

  “I can imagine,” Nancy said sympathetically.

  “I’d really appreciate it if you’d come watch the compulsories,” Veronica said, almost pleading with Nancy. “They’re the first thing tomorr
ow. I heard Trish say you’re a detective, and I’d feel better knowing you’re around.”

  “If you think it’ll help at all, I’ll be there,” Nancy promised.

  • • •

  “But, Nan,” George lamented the next morning as the two girls drove to the arena from River Heights. “If you go to the women’s compulsories, you’ll miss the freestyle pairs skating! Kevin even said we could watch from the Worldwide press box.”

  “I hate to miss the pairs,” Nancy said, “but I promised Veronica I’d be there. After her fall and that note, she’s feeling extra vulnerable.”

  “I wonder who could have written that note,” George mused. “Somebody must really have it in for her.”

  “See what you can find out today, okay?” Nancy urged, as she rolled down her window to take a ticket from the parking-lot attendant.

  “Of course,” George said with a grin as Nancy pulled into a vacant space. “I’ll look for you after the first part of the pairs program. It says in the press kit there’ll be a break late in the morning.”

  “Great,” Nancy said as she and George headed for the staff entrance. “Meet me at the small rink then,” she told George. “It’s in the east wing.”

  “If they have a break in the compulsories at the same time we can check out the restaurant in the west wing. Kevin said it’s pretty good,” George said. With a wave, George hurried into the main rink, while Nancy went around to the east wing.

  The smaller rink was just that—smaller than the main one, though it was still quite large. Nancy arrived just as the compulsory event was about to begin. She could feel the tension in the room. Nine judges wearing white ribbons stood on the ice, just inside the railing, talking quietly with each other. On the far side of the rink, waiting in a nervous little cluster, were the male singles skaters.

  Too bad for you, George, Nancy thought to herself with a smile. You missed a close look at a bunch of gorgeous guys!

  Checking the stands, Nancy was surprised at how few onlookers there were. Just a few dozen people had come. Nancy guessed that most of them were probably connected to the skaters, and the others were reporters. The general public would be far more interested in the music, costumes, and spectacular skating of the pairs competition.