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  “Thanks,” Nancy said, touching his shoulder lightly and smiling at him before she turned to leave. “You’ve been terrific, Jake.”

  Excited and energized by her new information, Nancy flew to her car and hopped inside. As she drove to Bedford High, Nancy knew there was no reason Coach Novak would talk to her, especially if he was the one providing his players with steroids.

  But, Nancy reasoned, if the coach didn’t know anything about his players taking steroids, he would talk. Either way, the coach was her best bet right then.

  Within fifteen minutes Nancy was sitting in the coach’s tiny office. As gently as she could, and carefully observing his reaction, Nancy told him her suspicions.

  “You want to repeat that?” said Coach Novak, the anger in his voice barely suppressed. He leaned across his desk and shot Nancy a disdainful look. “I’m not sure I heard you right.”

  “I said, I have reason to believe some of your players are using steroids. Dynazol, to be exact.”

  “Uh-huh.” The coach folded his arms on his chest and leaned back again. “And who exactly do you think you are to be accusing my players, Miss Nancy Edwards?”

  “Drew. Nancy Drew. I’m a detective, sir. I solved a case once before here at Bedford High. It involved Jack Webb’s murder.”

  “Oh, yeah? I don’t remember you being involved in that,” the coach said dubiously.

  “Mr. Parton can verify it, if you ask him.” Talking to the school principal would surely convince the coach that she was telling the truth.

  “Mr. Parton retired,” the coach shot back. “He moved to Florida. There’s a new principal here at Bedford.”

  “Oh.” Nancy let out a breath and tried to decide what tack to take next. Getting through to the coach was proving to be hard work. She decided to try the direct approach. “Are you supplying the team with steroids?” she asked, watching his face for any signs of guilt.

  “Don’t make me sick,” growled the coach, staring back at her hatefully. “I want to win. Not cheat.”

  Something in the way he said it convinced Nancy that he was telling the truth. Still, if he wasn’t providing the drugs, somebody was. But who?

  “I’m sorry, Coach. I know how disappointed you must be. Believe me, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have a good reason to suspect steroids,” Nancy explained.

  The coach shook his head again. “I don’t believe this,” he said. “I’m on the verge of winning my first state championship in twenty-seven years of coaching, and you come in here and tell me it’s all the result of steroids!”

  “I’m not saying that, Coach Novak,” Nancy objected. “I’m just saying you should find out if it’s true!”

  “Wait a minute—did the coach at Carlisle put you up to this?” he asked, his nostrils flaring. “I wouldn’t put it past him. He wants the state championship as much as I do. This is just the sort of thing I’d expect him to pull.”

  “I don’t know who or what you’re talking about, Coach Novak,” Nancy said, losing her patience. “What I do know is that somebody is feeding steroids to at least three of your star players, maybe more—and the drugs are seriously endangering their health. Now, if you won’t look into it, I’ll have to go to the principal and ask him to—”

  “Go ahead!” steamed the coach. “But I don’t think you’ll get very far. The new principal and I are very close. I know for a fact that he wants to see us win the state championship as much as I do. He wouldn’t tamper with the team’s morale and do something crazy a week before the championship game.”

  Nancy gritted her teeth and sighed. The coach was probably right. She didn’t have any evidence for her theory.

  “I’ll tell you what,” the coach said at last. “After the game, if you want to pursue this, I’ll discuss it with you again. Meanwhile, why don’t you just go back to wherever you came from and leave us alone?”

  Nancy said nothing. Coach Novak obviously didn’t want to rock the boat right now before the championship game, and there was no use trying to convince him to change his mind. As if to emphasize his point, the coach got up and walked over to open the door for Nancy.

  “Goodbye, Ms. Drew,” the coach said with a slight grin. “Thanks for your help, but I can manage my own team, thanks.”

  “Okay, I tried,” Nancy murmured, getting up and leaving the office.

  As she walked down the hall toward the parking lot exit, Nancy tried to plan her next move. Behind her, she heard the click of a door closing. Then a shuffling sound. Was it her imagination, or was someone following her?

  She turned but saw nothing. Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself. There was no place safer than a high school during the daytime. Still, the feeling of someone following her persisted. With a sigh of relief she reached out to pull the metal bar on the exit.

  But an arm across her neck stopped her. Gasping for breath, Nancy felt another strong arm reach around her waist and squeeze with a viselike grip.

  Fighting panic, Nancy clawed desperately at the iron arms that had her pinned tight. It was no use. Her strength was no match for her attacker’s. Nancy fought desperately for breath, then remained just on the edge of blacking out.

  “This is a warning,” said a gravelly voice in her ear. “Don’t mess with success, Nancy Drew—or you might wind up dead!”

  Chapter

  Fourteen

  WITH ONE FINAL SQUEEZE around her neck that made Nancy see stars, the iron arms shoved her up against the exit door. As she fell against the steel bar, it gave and the door flew open, making Nancy fall headlong out of the building.

  “So long, sweetheart,” her attacker whispered as she fell to the pavement. The door was pulled shut. After Nancy caught her breath, she staggered to her feet, hoping to get a look at her attacker. It was too late.

  The door had no handle on the outside. Nancy pulled on it, but it didn’t budge. Her anonymous attacker was safely inside, making his getaway.

  Rubbing her neck and leaning against the door while she recovered her composure, Nancy tried to place the voice. Coach Novak? Nancy didn’t think so.

  Breathing hard, Nancy touched the tender skin on her neck lightly. As her hand came away, she noticed a small strand of jet black hair in her fingers.

  In a flash, she realized the iron arms and gravelly voice had to belong to Lonnie Price. So he had kept his promise to “shut her up.”

  Well, Nancy decided, she had a promise of her own to keep, and Lonnie’s intimidation tactics weren’t going to stop her.

  It was almost time for her shift at Touchdown, so Nancy headed for work.

  Driving along the tree-lined streets of Bedford, Nancy’s mind was churning with thoughts and images: Cynthia’s being fired by Pete; Doc’s threatening tone at the health club; Edgar’s dropping the blackmail letter at Pete’s; Mark’s indulgence with the staff.

  Then there was the situation at Bedford High, an entire team being torn apart by wild mood swings and all the other effects of steroid use.

  What did it all add up to? Nancy was working on two cases at once, and they were tearing her concentration apart. What had started as the simple impulse to help a new friend had turned into two tough, dangerous situations.

  “Hi, everyone,” Nancy called as soon as she got inside the kitchen at Touchdown. Touchdown was relatively empty. The lunch rush was over, and it wasn’t time for the dinner crowd yet. For now the place was quiet.

  “Hello, Nancy. How ya doin’?” It wasn’t much of a greeting, but for the first time since Nancy had met Pete, his smile seemed to be genuine.

  “Nancy!” Edgar Chessman approached her the second she took up her position behind the register. “There’s something you’ve got to hear.”

  Nancy finished opening the register, took out a stack of bills, and turned to him eagerly. “Yes?”

  “See, there was this bullfrog who wanted to get to California, and he met a turtle—”

  Nancy listened to the long rambling joke as she counted up the cash fr
om the lunch crowd.

  Just as the punchline was coming, Pete’s voice came from behind them. “Quit clowning around, Chessman,” Pete growled. “I’ve got to talk to Nancy right away. Meet me in my office, pronto.”

  “Okay,” Nancy said apprehensively, putting the money back into the register and closing the drawer.

  Nancy followed him to his office, her heart pounding. If Lonnie had told him that she was a detective, Nancy’s career at Touchdown was over right now.

  She needn’t have worried, though, because when Pete sat down at his desk and glanced at her from under his thick eyebrows, his expression was almost apologetic.

  “Mark said you were upset ’cause I yelled at you,” Pete said from behind his desk.

  “Oh. Well, I guess I was,” Nancy replied.

  “Sometimes I shoot first and look later,” Pete confessed, looking downcast. “Sorry.”

  “Do you still think I stole the money?” she asked, looking him in the eye.

  “No,” he murmured ruefully. “I don’t know who’s taking it, but the accountant tells me another five thousand is gone.”

  You’re stealing it, you big phony! Nancy thought. But she played along, not wanting him to know what she suspected.

  “Nancy, I am happy with your work here at Touchdown,” Pete said. “You’ve been working out well. I’d like to give you a regular schedule and up your salary fifty cents an hour.”

  Nancy did her best to look happy. “Great!” she said, forcing a smile.

  “That’s all,” Pete told her, leaning back in his chair. “You can go back to work now.”

  “Sure,” Nancy said with relief. So Pete didn’t know she was a detective after all. That would give her a little time, at least, to find the evidence she needed to prove he was stealing from Touchdown.

  An hour or so later customers were beginning to stream into the restaurant. Soon the dinner rush was in full swing.

  “Hey! How’s the food in this joint?” said a familiar voice. Nancy looked up and saw Bess Marvin’s smiling face staring into hers.

  “Hi, Nan!” Bess said. Behind her were George, Lonnie, Rob, and Bill. Nancy sneaked a brief glance at Lonnie, but his attention was focused on the corner of the dining room.

  “Hi, Pete!” he called out. “How ya doin’, buddy?”

  “Hey, guys!” Pete called out cheerfully, coming up behind Nancy and leaning over to shake the guys’ hands. “Great game the other day.” Turning to Nancy, he added, “I’ll take this order myself.”

  Nancy stepped out of the way as Pete filled up the to-go bags with food and drinks.

  “I put some little goodies in there for you,” Pete said to the players with a wink.

  Nancy noticed a dark look cross Lonnie’s and Bill’s faces when they heard what Pete said. Rob looked scared. Motioning for Pete to follow him, Lonnie walked down to the end of the counter area as Nancy took the money for the order. Bill followed the other two guys, taking the bags with him.

  Glancing sideways, Nancy watched Lonnie whisper in Pete’s ear. He looked back at her from time to time. Pete’s face took on an expression of amazement and alarm, and he glared at Nancy.

  So much for her cover—Nancy sensed it was being blown at that very second. Her career at Touchdown had come to an abrupt end.

  At the same a time a light bulb was going off in Nancy’s brain. Pete’s reference to “goodies” in the bags was too tantalizing to let pass. If Pete was providing the players with steroids, the bags would be the perfect way to pass them to his favorite football stars!

  Making sure the guys didn’t see her, Nancy quickly put two burgers and a soda into another bag.

  “George,” Nancy whispered to her friend, handing her the new bag, “see if you can switch this bag for one of the others without the guys seeing you. Hide the original, and be sure to call me later—at home. Okay?”

  “Gotcha.” George nodded, slipping the bag into her tennis bag. “What’s up, Nan?” she asked.

  “Tell you later,” Nancy replied. “What are you doing going out with Lonnie?” Nancy asked.

  “I’m not—not really. Bess and I were coming in here for supper to go, and we ran into them in the parking lot. I’ve got a tennis tournament tonight at Millbrook, and Bess mentioned it. They all want to come watch. What could I say—no?” George asked.

  “You all set?” Lonnie asked George, ignoring Nancy completely. “Let’s go.”

  After they had left, Nancy looked around for Pete but didn’t see him. Wherever he was, though, it hardly mattered. If Nancy’s hunch was right, Pete had just blown it royally. And if George could make the switch, Nancy was sure she’d have her first hard evidence—steroids in a bag from Touchdown.

  A few minutes later Nancy watched as Lonnie stormed back into the restaurant, holding a bag in his hand. Looking annoyed and upset, he walked into the hallway leading to Pete’s office.

  “Uh-oh,” Nancy said under her breath. “Here it comes.”

  In less than a minute Lonnie was out of the restaurant again, followed by Pete, who called to her from the hallway. “Nancy!” he called out. “Come over here!”

  Nancy walked bravely up to him. “Yes, Pete?” she said, much cooler than she felt.

  “You’re fired!” he said, spitting each word out. “Get out of here!”

  Nancy didn’t ask why, and she didn’t argue. Pulling off her Touchdown jersey, she folded it neatly and put it on the countertop.

  “Goodbye, Edgar,” she said, giving him a wave of her hand. “It’s been nice working with you.” And I’ll be seeing you tomorrow at the post office, she added to herself on her way to the door.

  • • •

  That night Nancy’s phone rang at nine-thirty. “Nancy,” said George excitedly. “That little scene in Touchdown was incredible.”

  “You made the switch, didn’t you.” It was a statement, not a question. Nancy knew from Lonnie’s second visit to Touchdown that George had been successful.

  “I sure did,” said George. “Have I ever let you down?”

  “Never,” Nancy agreed. “Did you look inside the bag?”

  “I wasn’t going to, but Bess was curious, so—”

  “And?” Nancy asked eagerly.

  “We found a packet of pills,” George replied grimly. “Is that what you were looking for?”

  “That’s what I was looking for,” Nancy confirmed. A rush of pride shot through her. “Good work, George.”

  “I don’t get it,” said George. “What are they? Drugs or something?”

  “They’re steroids, George,” Nancy said. “And you know what else they are?”

  “What?”

  “They’re evidence, that’s what. Evidence that proves Pete Shepard has been illegally handing out drugs to high school football players!”

  Chapter

  Fifteen

  AT 11:45 THE NEXT DAY Nancy was parked on the street across from the Bedford post office, in Hannah Gruen’s car.

  “Just in case someone recognizes my Mustang,” Nancy had explained to George and Bess, who were waiting with her.

  George leaned back in the front seat and finished off the tea she’d picked up at a nearby doughnut shop. “Didn’t the note say the money had to be there by noon? Edgar should be here by now,” she said, crushing the cup and putting it back in the bag it had come in.

  “Right,” said Nancy, peering farther down the street through a pair of black binoculars. “So far nothing.”

  “What a nightmare,” Bess murmured from the back seat. “Don’t those guys know what they’re doing to themselves by using steroids?”

  “Let me tell you something, Bess,” said George, fluffing up her short dark hair with both hands. “When you’re an athlete and you’re really good, wanting to be the best can take over. You’ll do anything to make yourself stronger or faster.”

  “I still can’t believe what a jerk Bill turned out to be,” Bess said with a sigh.

  “Don’t worry,” Nancy said
with a smile. “There’ll be other guys.”

  “You always say that, Nancy,” said Bess.

  “And she’s always right,” George pointed out.

  “Oh, be quiet, both of you. Can’t you see I’m devastated?” Despite her words, it wasn’t too hard to tell that Bess would have no problem getting over her crush on Bill. “What a waste of talent,” she moaned.

  “You can say that again,” George agreed. “When this situation gets blown open, he’s bound to be thrown off the team and lose any chance of a college scholarship.”

  “I hate to see it happen,” Nancy said, keeping an eye on the post office for Edgar’s approach. “They played with fire and they’re going to get burned. Hopefully, the guys will be able to put this all behind them. Pete, on the other hand—”

  “I don’t understand, Nan,” Bess said. “What does he get out of all this? Money?”

  Nancy didn’t know how much money Pete stood to make by selling steroids, but she didn’t think it could be all that much. “I have a feeling there’s more to Pete’s involvement than that,” she speculated.

  “Like what?” George asked.

  “Remember, Pete’s a players’ agent,” Nancy reminded them. “Maybe he has some kind of secret agreement with the guys. Say, if they make it in the pros, he’ll get a piece of their money in exchange for steroids now.”

  “It sure would explain Doc’s remark to Pete about ‘you and your boys,’ ” Bess put in.

  Nancy kept her eyes fixed on the entrance to the post office. “It’s just a theory, remember,” she told her friends. “But I think we can assume that Pete’s getting the steroids from that guy Doc. Doctors would have access to the stuff, after all. The trouble is we have no proof of anything—yet.”

  “We’ve got proof of one thing,” Bess corrected her. “We know Edgar Chessman’s blackmailing Pete.”

  “We know only that he delivered a blackmail note, for sure,” said Nancy. “Though it is a little weird that he’d drop off a note one place and pick up the money at another,” she said, almost to herself. “Where is he, anyway?” Nancy murmured, tapping her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel.