MAHONEY SCHOLARSHIP AWARD CEREMONY

 

The Mahoney Scholarship Award ceremony was held at the school auditorium, and everyone was there.

The girls and I had had time to go home and change into less casual clothes before meeting up outside the auditorium shortly before seven o’clock that evening.

We waited for everyone to pass by and find their seats. Our plan was to come in behind the crowd and grab seats in the back or hang out by the exit door. We needed to be able to make a quick getaway. It seemed like the entire community had arrived for this presentation, at least more people than I’d expected. People brought bouquets of flowers for the applicants and food from the carnival. Some had salted pretzels. Some had cotton candy. Some had hot dogs and hamburgers.

As the flow of people dwindled, we snuck in at the back so no one would see us.

“All right, gang,” I said. “Stay close and don’t say anything to anyone. We don’t want to strike up any unwanted conversations. We are only going to be here for a short time before we leave.”

“Nancy,” George asked, “what happens if someone sees us leave?”

“Come on,” Bess said. “Where’s your sense of danger? Who cares if anyone sees us? We’re with Nancy. She can talk her way out of anything.”

“No one will see us, George,” I said. “Okay? And if they do, my dad will be watching us to make sure we can get away.”

“He knows?” Bess asked.

“He knows we’re on a mission to procure more evidence. He’ll cover us if we’re discovered.”

Family members and friends, teachers and administrators all gathered for the formal selection and awarding of the college scholarship. The four candidates really drew quite the crowd. What became clear to me was that it was a big enough deal for someone to commit sabotage on a grand scale. A full ride to any college was serious. Anyone — students or teachers — could be held accountable.

The room was packed wall-to-wall, with every seat filled. This was a good thing. The last thing we needed was for three empty chairs to appear and someone to usher us over to them so we couldn’t get away.

The stage had chairs for the judges and candidates, right next to the American flag and a podium with a microphone.

The fro-yo girls had arrived, Deirdre Shannon leading the way. They sat toward the front, supporting Aly Stanfield, or at least appearing to support her. Really, I thought they just wanted to brush shoulders with the local media, who were set up at the base of the stage, filming the ceremony and interviewing attendees. Deidre was front and center with perfect hair and makeup, ready for the cameras. I really hoped that Aly would win, as I knew she deserved the scholarship, but the competition was very steep.

Aly Stanfield and her mother Mara arrived too, walking up onto stage, finding seats behind Mark Steele, the speaker, who was about to open the ceremony. Cameras began to roll and lightbulbs flashed as the ceremony began.

Joshua Andrews and Mrs. Gruen sat toward the back of the auditorium, chatting about his banana walnut bread and her brownies. Dad sat with them and kept looking at me and nodding. He knew what we were about to do. He looked around at the people near us and would point to them or direct me to them with his eyes, if he thought I should know they were there.

A mother and three little kids strolled in late and caused a ruckus. The kids were laughing and stomping their feet, and one of them was crying because she wanted to go back to the Ferris wheel. The audience turned around almost in unison to see who it was that was making all that noise. The three of us obscured our faces and purposely didn’t make eye contact with anyone. Finally the woman and her kids made their way down the auditorium to several open seats. We were safe for now.

George, Bess, and I stood along the back wall and watched as everyone turned their attention to Mark Steele onstage at the microphone. He cleared his throat and coughed into the microphone.

“Hello, everyone. Please be seated. Please be quiet. We need to begin. Hello.” He banged the microphone with his palm. “Please. Hello. Settle down now. Settle down. We must begin.” He looked tremendously annoyed and flustered in front of the microphone. I didn’t know why he was speaking, really. I had actually expected Mara to be the master of ceremonies, not Mr. Steele, but he had control of the microphone, so the event began.

Everyone finally settled down and Mark Steele sighed, then took a sip of water, collecting himself, before finally beginning. He opened his mouth and stared out at the audience but didn’t say anything for a while. It seemed so long, like maybe five minutes, although I’m sure it was much shorter than that. But he looked lost. Like he was searching for something to say, but nothing was coming out.

“What is he doing?” Bess whispered. “Why isn’t he talking?”

“He’s making me very nervous,” George said. “Like he knows what we’re about to do.”

“I think he’s angry. I think he’s so angry about something that he doesn’t know how to be kind and generous with this award.”

He was still quiet. The room was quiet too. A piercing squawk of feedback reverberated and echoed through the speakers and around the auditorium. Several children cried from the noise.

“Shouldn’t Mara or someone go up there and save him from this embarrassment?” Bess asked.

“Part of me thinks she might want him to experience this embarrassment,” I said.

Then, finally, after an extremely uncomfortable amount of time, he started talking.

“We are here today to award the Mahoney Scholarship to one of these four finalists. Boy, was the competition stiff this year. All very deserving of the money. We have so many bright young children in the world and in this community that it was difficult for the three judges to make a decision. Mrs. Mahoney, Mr. Carson Drew, and I worked over time to figure out who should be awarded this most significant prize. This scholarship. Worth quite a bit of money. For me, it was tough because I have such a high standard by which I measure talent. For example, I read five newspapers a day.” Mr. Steele raised his hands and showed his fingers. “You can tell by my fingers. They are always covered in ink!”

Whoa!

George and Bess both tapped my shoulders excitedly on either. We all looked up onstage as Mark leaned over the edge and showed the camera crews that were filming his grubby little fingers.

“This is what happens when you read a lot of newspapers. Your fingers get covered in ink, and it almost never comes off,” he said.

I turned to both George and Bess.

“The notes,” I said.

“I know,” Bess said.

“We need to tell Chief McGinnis,” said George.

“Not yet. Not quite yet. We need more evidence,” I said. “We need to go to Mark Steele’s office and look through his paperwork for one more thing. One more thing to make our case more convincing.”

“But Nancy, the notes,” George said, jumping up and down. “The ink on the notes and the ink on his fingers. It’s a clue. A fact. A whatever you want to call it. He is the saboteur. I just know it.”

“His fingers are covered in smeared ink, I know. Just like the notes,” I said. “It was Mark Steele.” I said. “Let’s all meet in his classroom in ten minutes. But we have to leave one at a time so as not to draw unnecessary attention. Bess, you go first. Then you, George.”

One by one we began to leave.

First it was Bess, sneaking out through the back without being detected.

Next was George. She tripped and fell as she passed a group of onlookers, but they were so riveted by Mr. Steele’s dull and boring introduction that they didn’t even notice her klutziness.

Mark Steele concluded his inane speech before turning the microphone over to Lexi Claremont, who stepped up to announce this year’s winner of the Mahoney Scholarship.

All four applicants stood to listen with eager anticipation.

Shaz Morgan. Seth Preston. Aly Stanfield. And Michael Kahlid.

“Thank you all for coming to this very exciting and important scholarship award ceremony,” she said, looking at the four candidates. “This is a most prestigious award for a student with a strong academic background and an ambitious goal to succeed. I am proud to announce that this year’s River Heights winner of the Mahoney Scholarship is...” She paused, opening an envelope. She looked up at the crowd. “The suspense is killing me,” she said, laughing. “And the winner is, Shaz Morgan.”

I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that Aly hadn’t won. Instead it was Shaz Morgan, who’d been so confident that she was going to get the scholarship.

The look on Aly’s face was one of pure devastation.

Seth Preston just seemed oblivious, like he was eager to introduce Seth Preston as Seth Preston and continue his third-person tomfoolery.

And Michael Kahlid, well, he looked angry, and before I had a chance to turn and leave, I watched him storm off the stage, as if he was protesting the decision by leaving. He reappeared on the auditorium floor, and I noticed he was carrying something wrapped in a towel again. He was walking toward Sunshine, who I noticed was sitting off to the side of the auditorium. I knew that was one mystery I needed to solve, but I didn’t have time for at the moment.

As much as I wanted to stay and follow Michael to see where he was headed and what he was carrying — or even stay and listen to Shaz’s speech — I had to leave and meet up with the girls at Mark Steele’s classroom.

 

METAL CABINET EVIDENCE

 

I left the auditorium and ran across the quad, passing the empty rides and barren food court.

Everything was quiet and empty. The entire community had left the carnival for the ceremony. No one was around at all. The parking lot was packed full of cars too, not one open space anywhere. Now was the time for some kind of crime to take place. The sun had set and the moon began to rise in the sky. Darkness made things spookier and scarier. I had to get to the school and find the evidence I needed to solve this case for good.

The girls waited for me outside the main entrance to the school.

As I approached, I knew right away that I was going to “accidentally” scare them, because the twilight covered the ground in darkness and heavy shadows. I moved through some bushes, stepping over fallen branches, before leaping onto the pavement leading up to the entrance of the school. Both girls screamed and pointed at me.

“Oh my,” Bess screamed.

“It’s the thief,” George screamed, and grabbed onto Bess.

I laughed so hard that I couldn’t control tears from streaming down my face. “You two are so silly.”

“What took you so long?” Bess asked, angry and embarrassed. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, I was so scared.”

“Well, I have some news that will make you less afraid,” I said.

“What?” George said.

“Shaz won the scholarship,” I said. “She beat out Aly, Seth, and Michael.”

“I can’t believe she was right,” George said. “She knew she would win. How did she know she would win?”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” I said. “I think we were just dealing with three very arrogant kids who knew they were smart. Aly not included, of course.”

“Well, whatever the case, hurry up, Nancy, and open the door already,” Bess said. “We’ve been standing outside here for so long. It’s dark, and someone could come and find us here. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

“You are such a scaredy-cat,” George said, laughing.

“I just don’t want to get arrested,” said Bess.

“No one is getting arrested,” I said, as I tried to find the right key on my chain to unlock the door. I flipped my key ring around a few times before finding the right key, then slid it in... perfect! The door swung open with a loud creak and whine. We all three stood at the entranceway and stared down the long, dark hallway, filled with shadows and blue light.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Bess said. “This is a bad idea.”

“I happen to agree with Bess on this one,” said George. “Nancy, we should just go back to the ceremony and get some other way to find the evidence we need.”

“You two can go back to the ceremony. Fine. But I have to do this. There’s been too much drama and sabotage for me to just turn back now. So if you’re going to leave, then go now. But if you’re going to stay, I need to know that you’re in this to help me and back me up. I can’t hold your hand all the way through this. So, what is it going to be, you two — the ceremony or the school?”

Both girls looked at each other for an answer, for one of them to make the final decision. Finally, Bess spoke up.

“We’ll follow you, Nancy.”

“Let’s go,” George added.

All three of us entered the dark school and slammed the door shut behind us, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. As we stepped through the shadows, we listened carefully to every little sound.

A drip from a leaky bathroom faucet.

Banging pipes.

Our shoes clicking and squeaking down the linoleum.

“I don’t think people ever hear these sounds during the daytime, do you? Or do you think I’m being neurotic?” George asked.

“Neurotic,” Bess said.

As we passed an open classroom a loud croak! ripped out from inside the room as a classroom pet frog began calling out to the darkness, which made Bess and George jump and grab onto my arm.

“You are both neurotic and unbelievable,” I said. “Stop being so silly. You’re going to get us all caught and in trouble. Remember that I’m not even supposed to have keys to the school!”

“Sorry, Nance,” George said.

“Yeah, sorry, Nancy,” said Bess.

“It was a frog!” I said. “Don’t be afraid of a frog!”

We moved farther down the school hallway until we reached Mr. Steele’s classroom. We turned on the overhead lights, then spread out and began to search the classroom.

Bess took his desk and pulled open each drawer, moving pens and pencils and rulers and erasers to look for anything incriminating.

“What exactly are we looking for?” she asked, moving aside confiscated cell phones and books students must have been reading in his class (several copies of Canterwood Crest, for some reason; horses must be popular this year). He hated when students read books during his class, but the word on the street was that his class was so boring that you had to read a good book in order to stay awake, which was funny because there were so many books in his desk. Bess looked through all the drawers but didn’t find anything incriminating at all.

George looked through the bookshelves along the wall under the windows, finding old tests and handouts and magazine articles. But then she found stacks of newspapers, which on closer examination turned out to be only the business section of the papers. There were local, state, and national newspapers, as well as international and financial ones. Each section had notes written on it, and words or phrases were highlighted.

Notes like “long-term retirement plan.” Highlighted phrases like “real estate boom” and “real estate is a key investment” and “invest your money wisely” and “beware of real estate vultures and scams.”

“Hey, Nancy,” she said. “Is any of this useable as evidence?” she asked. “I’m not sure what exactly you need, but these are awfully peculiar.”

“Close,” I said. “But not quite close enough.”

I focused my attention on a giant metal cabinet in the back that had a lock on the handle. I took out a bobby pin and handed it to George.

“I know you’re handy when it comes to weird things like picking locks,” I said. “So can you do us a favor and break into this?”

“Gladly,” she said, excited to take a crack at the lock.

It took only a few seconds for the lock to snap open. The door swung wide and a large manila envelope fell out, tumbling to the floor. Its contents scattered at my feet. The girls and I knelt down and scooped together the papers, stuffing them back into the envelope.

But then I saw something — a brochure.

I held it up and examined it under the light.

“Retire Early into the Lap of Luxury...”

The brochure had pictures of white-sand beaches, beautiful infinity swimming pools, tennis/basketball/racquetball courts, a state-of-the-art gym, and living facilities that looked nothing less than palatial.

“This makes a lot of sense,” I said. “Oh, my gosh. We’re getting so close to finding exactly what we need.”

“What does it mean?” George said.

“Looks like someone’s having trouble letting go of the past,” Bess said over my shoulder.

“All of those newspapers and the ink on his hands and this brochure — it all adds up to something, but not quite what I’m looking for,” I said.

“What more do we need?” asked Bess.

“This is all circumstantial, as my dad would say. We need to find evidence that is undeniable,” I said.

“Well, we’ve already broken into his cabinet. Why stop now? We must be close,” George said.

The girls and I continued to dig through the metal cabinet, when we found a plastic bag that contained a black hoodie, a black ski mask, and bundles of blue notepaper with ink smeared at the edges. We froze and stood back from the bag. We had found the thief’s clothing. And it all made sense. The thief was Mark Steele. He knew where the money would be. He knew where the cameras would be mounted and, more importantly, how to avoid them.

“Whoa,” Bess said.

“I don’t believe this,” George said.

“Believe it, girls,” I said, smiling, but scared. “This is the proof we’ve been looking for. We found it.”

“It’s the thief’s mask and hoodie,” Bess said. “What does this mean?”

“The thief is Mark Steele,” I said. “He stole the money.”

“And set the fires,” George said.

“And wrote the notes!” Bess said, realizing the truth.

“This is a huge find. What do we do now, Nancy?” George asked.

“I think without a doubt we’ve found our guy,” I said. “Now it’s time to tell everyone what we have found.”

 

SABOTEUR REVEALED

 

Bess, George, and I waited outside the auditorium for my dad to finish up with the ceremony, so we could talk to him about what we had just found out.

Crowds of people started pouring out. Everyone left talking about Shaz Morgan and the speech she gave about her pursuit and investment in the advancement of medical research and practicality. No one seemed to understand exactly what she’d been talking about, but it seemed that this scholarship was going to be put to good use, as she planned on plunging into this field after college and wanted to fully educate herself in the field in preparation.

I could only imagine what Seth Preston’s speech, given totally in the third person, would have been like if he had won. Seth Preston would have been thankful for the opportunity to send Seth Preston to any college of his liking in order to give Seth Preston the best possible education, so that Seth Preston could get a terrific job.

That did leave Michael Kahlid as a wild card in the back of my mind. I still didn’t know what he had been making in the art class. He had remained somewhat elusive all day, and after I spoke to Dad and figured out how to handle this Mark Steele situation, I would need to put this Michael mystery to bed as well.

Finally, after all the spectators had left, the organizers and main parties began to leave together, which was more than I could have asked for.

“Holy moly,” Bess said. “Here comes everyone.”

“Get ready, girls,” I said. “We’re going to finish this right now.”

Aly Stanfield and her mother, Mara, were the first ones to exit the auditorium. My dad, Mrs. Gruen, and Mrs. Mahoney followed quickly behind. Mark Steele, Chief McGinnis, and Ned were the last to exit.

“Nancy,” Dad said. “You missed the ceremony. Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” I said. “I’m fine. We’ve figured out who’s responsible for all the sabotage these past few days.”

“Really?” Chief McGinnis said, moving closer to me, very interested in what he had overheard. “Please explain.”

“This is ridiculous,” Mark Steele said, cutting me off before I could talk. “Why are we still listening to this teenager talk about her wild theories when this clearly should be left up to the authorities? I am sick and tired of her harassing innocent people.”

“Who said she had made any false accusations,” Dad piped up. “Let’s hear her out and see if it makes any sense. I think we all want to see an end to these dangerous acts of sabotage, so what’s the harm in listening to her evidence?”

“I just feel it should be left to professionals, Carson, not a child,” Mr. Steele said.

Chief McGinnis held his hands up, stopping Mr. Steele. “Slow down,” Chief said. “Take it easy. She hasn’t even said anything defamatory yet. She has a theory, and I’m willing to hear it out.” He turned to me. “Nancy, let’s hear it. What do you know? Tell me. I’m all ears.”

I took a second to catch my breath. Everyone had their eyes on me. Ned was smiling, eager. Mrs. Mahoney was anxious, her hand on her heart. Chief had his arms crossed over his chest. Dad had his arm over my shoulders. Bess and George stood in the back of the group with their eyes on Mr. Steele. And he was firing nasty dagger eyes at me. It was all so stressful, I couldn’t believe it. But I believed in what I was about to say.

“It was Mr. Steele,” I blurted out. “He is behind everything. The notes. The fires. The robbery of the cash box. He has been terrorizing the Celebration. He is to blame for everything.”

For a minute everyone just stared at me. No one said anything. I wasn’t sure if it was because they didn’t believe me or if it was too far-fetched or what exactly.

“Are you kidding me?” Mr. Steele finally said with an aggressive attitude. “Are you seriously entertaining this silly accusation? How could I possibly be behind all these shenanigans? Unbelievable. I don’t need this. I have a carnival to oversee and finish up.” He started to walk off, but Chief McGinnis grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back toward the group.

“Let’s hear the girl out and not rush to judgment,” Chief said.

“Right,” said Dad. “My daughter isn’t going to accuse anyone without evidence. So, Nancy, that is an interesting accusation, but what do you have to back it up?”

“While everyone was at the ceremony, Bess and George and I went to his classroom to look for evidence.”

“That’s trespassing,” Mr. Steele said.

“It’s not,” said Mara. “She’s a volunteer. She’s been working at the fro-yo stand. She is allowed to be on school grounds.”

“Then it is illegal for her to have searched my classroom. Doesn’t she need a warrant or something to be able to go through my personal belongings?” Mr. Steele asked.

“No,” Chief said. “This is a school, not a private residence. A warrant is not needed. Anyone has the right to search and seizure.” He looked at Mr. Steele. “Now, quiet.” He looked back to me. “Please. Continue.”

“We found some interesting things. First of all, we found stacks of newspapers from all over the country,” I said.

“All over the world,” George added.

“And remember when we examined all the notes that had been left for everyone the past few days? There were ink smudges all around the edges that we determined to be a special kind of ink used in newspaper print,” said Bess.

“So we figured out that whoever wrote those notes was an avid newspaper reader,” I said. “He even said it in his speech tonight. It was the last thing we heard before we left for his classroom, that he read all those newspapers every day and showed us his fingers. Look at his hands.”

Chief McGinnis lifted Mr. Steele’s hands and examined the pads of his fingers, each covered with black ink.

“This is ridiculous,” Mr. Steele said. “Completely circumstantial. It doesn’t prove anything except that I read.”

“I have to agree with Mark,” said Chief. “The ink smudges and newspapers, while certainly interesting and curious, do not prove that he’s behind all the sabotage. I would need a lot more than that.”

Bess pulled out the retirement brochure and handed it to Chief.

“We found this, too,” she said. “In his locked closet.”

Mr. Steele suddenly got more nervous and fidgety. He looked scared. “You broke into my cabinet? Now that must be some kind of crime. Breaking and entering or something.”

“School property,” replied the Chief.

“What does this mean?” Mrs. Mahoney asked, suddenly becoming interested. “How does this brochure factor in?”

“Mr. Steele had been saving his money to retire early, but he lost it all in a real-estate scam,” I said.

“Lies,” he said. “All sad and ridiculous lies.”

“Nancy,” said Dad. “We need more than this. Do you have anything else? These aren’t enough for us to take seriously.”

I pulled out a plastic bag.

“How about this?” I asked, and removed the ski mask, hooded sweatshirt, and blank blue notepapers with ink smudges on them. The ink smudges had full fingerprints along the edges.

“We’d be willing to bet that the fingerprints at the edges match Mr. Steele’s fingerprints,” Bess said.

“And that the hairs inside the ski mask would match his,” George said.

“He had access. He had means. He had motive. He held on to the evidence,” I said. “Mark Steele is the saboteur.”

“Liar. These are lies, and Nancy Drew is a liar,” Mr. Steele said.

“Where did you find the sweatshirt and mask?” Dad asked me.

“We broke into his locked metal cabinet and found them stuffed in the back. I’m sorry for being sneaky and having to go behind everyone’s back, but I didn’t want to make any accusations unless I knew for sure.” I turned to Mrs. Mahoney. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Mahoney. I don’t mean to dampen the festivities at all.”

“Not at all, dearie,” she said. “I’m glad someone was able to finally find some answers. This is great news.”

“It isn’t great news,” said Mr. Steele. “Nancy Drew was a student in my math class. And let’s be honest, Nancy. You weren’t the best student. In fact, if memory serves me correctly, you actually failed a few tests in my class. So it can be argued that you’ve had it in for me for a while now. Taking it a step further, your excuses to me about why you failed your tests were that you had been preoccupied with solving crimes. So between your prior excuses and failure at math, it can be deduced that your reasoning skills are not all that well developed.”

“Watch yourself, Mark,” said Dad. “That’s my daughter you’re talking about, so be careful about what exactly you’re saying.”

“Hold on. Hold on. Stop the presses a second. I don’t understand something,” Chief said. “This evidence, while certainly strong and incriminating, leaves me wondering about motive.”

“The story is pretty simple, actually,” Dad said, stepping forward. “Mark Steele gave Mrs. Mahoney’s husband, Cornelius, all his savings to invest in a real-estate plan, and all his money disappeared. It was a scam. Cornelius stole it. And when Cornelius passed away, so did the possibility of ever recouping it. I know this because Mark is a client of mine, but now that I know he put children in danger by sabotaging the Celebration, I no longer want to represent him. You’ll have to find another lawyer, Mark. And by the way, this means that I am no longer bound by attorney/client privilege.”

“Mark Steele has been trying to get back at Mrs. Mahoney for what Cornelius did to him, and that is why he threatened everyone with notes and sabotaged the roller coaster and threw a brick through the Stanfields’ window and stole the cash box. He was terrorizing everyone involved,” I said. “Unfortunately, he was a victim years ago and couldn’t retire because he lost everything to Cornelius’s scam, so instead of fighting back in a legal manner, he fought back illegally and dangerously.”

Chief McGinnis stepped closer to Mark Steele. “Is this correct? Did you lose everything to Cornelius?”

Mr. Steele was quiet for the first time in a while. He looked at his hands, picking at the ink-stained skin, as if trying to erase it. “Mark?” Dad asked. “Are you listening to us?” “Mr. Steele,” I said, standing next to him now. “We know it was you. It explains why you’ve been acting so angry and accusing everyone around you. You wanted to cast as much doubt onto everyone else as possible. Onto Mara. Onto Ned.”

“Did you set the fire on the float?” Mara asked. “Tell me you didn’t put all of those kids’ lives in jeopardy. That would just be unforgivable, Mark. So many people could have been hurt or even killed.”

Finally, without warning, Mark Steele broke. “YES! YES! YES!” He was pacing now. “It was me. But if it wasn’t for Cornelius Mahoney... I swear. Cornelius Ma- honey ruined me. He ruined my life. Stole all my money, and I had nothing left. I am astonished and completely disgusted that everyone in town is revering the Ma- honeys as some kind of heroes after everything he did to drive people to financial ruin. I’m not the only one either. I am just the only one to do something about it. I wasn’t about to take it sitting down.” Mark Steele approached me. “And you. I can’t believe you, you little girl. You just can’t mind your own business. My entire life was ruined by her husband,” he said, pointing at Mrs. Mahoney.

“Mark Steele,” Chief McGinnis said. “You have the right to remain silent.”

“What?” he said.

“You have the right to an attorney,” Chief went on.

“No way. You are not seriously arresting me?” Mr. Steele said.

“If you can’t afford one, one will be appointed to you by the court,” said Chief.

“Are you kidding me with this?” Mr. Steele said.

“Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,” Chief said, sounding satisfied to have found the guilty party at last. He turned Mr. Steele around and slapped bracelets onto his wrists. “Thanks, Nancy,” Chief said, pushing Mr. Steele away from the group by the handcuffs. “The law will take it from here.” Chief took the plastic bag of evidence from me and called in backup to scour the classroom for more.

“It’s over,” George said. “We did it!”

“Another mystery solved,” Bess said.

“This was a tough one,” I said. “And I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Thanks for all your help.”

Mrs. Mahoney stood off to the side, tearful and upset, sobbing into a handkerchief. My dad held her in his arms, consoling her, listening to her.

“This is a sad day for me,” she said. “My husband was such a loving and kind man. The person everyone knew in public as a thief and a crook was not the man that I knew.”

“Were you aware of his illegal activity?” Dad asked.

“Of course not, Carson,” she said. “It wasn’t until right before he died that all of his bad dealings and real-estate and financial scams came to light. I was so disgusted and embarrassed that I’ve spent my time and money since his death making amends. I sponsor scholarships and town events. I give to charity and help out wherever I can. I may have loved my husband, but that doesn’t mean that I loved his actions.”

“It’s a sad situation for everyone,” I said, “but Mr. Steele put students in real danger for his own selfish reasons, and that is unforgivable no matter what the catalyst.”

 

SLEEPOVER DECOMPRESSION

 

Bess and George and I sat around a tray of Mrs. Gruen’s brownies in my living room, picking at the gooey goodness. It was the weekend following the River Heights Celebration, and Mark Steele had been arrested for larceny, arson, and a whole bunch of other things that I didn’t even know about. Apparently, he had been up to no good for quite some time now, and his recent crimes had finally caught up to him.

The three of us decided to spend Saturday night together at a sleepover, and at the last minute invited Sunshine over, as she had recently become a close friend. There was still something mysterious about her, though, that had me thinking that she was keeping a secret. I wasn’t sure what it was, but the sleepover was also a ploy to get to the bottom of that as well. Once we got her here and satisfied with Mrs. Gruen’s brownies, we wouldn’t let her go until she spilled whatever it was she wasn’t telling us.

“I can’t help but be reminded of the sleepover I went to a last weekend at the Stanfields’,” I said. “Those girls have such a strict code of mean girlness that I can only hope Aly can move away from all that when she goes to college.”

“I heard she got into Harvard,” George said.

“She did,” Bess said. “That’s what her mom told me the other day. That although she didn’t get the Mahoney Scholarship, she did receive an acceptance letter into Harvard and will be attending there in the fall.”

“That’s so exciting,” I said. “But let’s just hope that no bricks get thrown through our windows during this sleepover.”

“And that there are no notes taped to them,” Bess said.

“Exactly,” George said, licking more brownie off her fingers.

“You girls did a great job helping me out during this investigation and I really appreciate it,” I said. “I can’t be everywhere at once, and you each went above and beyond the call of duty.”

“Of course, Nancy,” said George.

“This is what it means to be friends with you,” Bess said. “Always risking getting in trouble.”

“In search of the truth,” George said.

“Finding the guilty party,” Bess added.

“And exposing them,” George said.

“Well, we all did a great job,” I concluded. “Now, when Sunshine gets here, which should be any minute, we need to find out the truth about her. Bess, what you told us sounds possible, but we need to hear it from her directly.”

Bess had told us her theory that Sunshine was, in fact, head-over-heels in love with a boy but wouldn’t divulge who it was. We each had a theory about who it was. Bess and George seemed to think it was Ned, but I knew that it wasn’t. I had my suspicions. What I needed was for Sunshine to come over to my house and sit down, so I could ask her questions about it directly without her scrambling to get away and avoiding them.

The doorbell rang, and it was Sunshine. She stood on my front patio with a giant purple mug in her hand.

“Come in, Sunshine,” I said. “What in the world is that? Looks like the largest coffee mug in the history of the world.”

“Thanks,” she said, stepping inside. “I am glad you like this mug. You’ll never guess who it’s from.”

“I bet I can guess,” Bess said, laughing. “A boy.”

“Yes, it is from a boy,” said Sunshine.

“What boy?” George asked. “Can you tell us?”

“Well, I suppose I owe you an apology, Nancy,” she said.

“Why is that?” I asked. I couldn’t believe she was going to apologize to me. For what? For stealing Ned? Was she dating him now? Did Ned dump me without me even knowing it? I guess I did need to work less! “Please tell me why you’re apologizing as quickly as possible! I can’t stand the idea of another mystery so soon after the Celebration case.”

“Remember how you would review your suspects in the scholarship ceremony, and you kept asking me about Michael Kahlid?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“And remember how I would always blush when you would talk about him, and I would get all weird and nervous?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Well,” she said, “I’m in love with him.”

“Whaaaaat?” Bess said.

“I didn’t see that one coming at all,” George said.

“Well,” said Bess. “I did tell Nancy and George I was pretty sure you liked someone, but I never would have guessed it was Michael.”

“And this mug?” Sunshine said. “He made it for me. He said he always saw me drinking coffee from to-go cups and wanted me to have a big, sturdy mug, so he made me this as a gift. Out of clay.”

“In the art room,” I said, the light dawning on me.

So that was what he was making. A coffee mug. Not a bowl. And no wonder he was so sensitive about it. He was going to give it to a girl he really liked, and he was afraid that she wasn’t going to like it and possibly not even know what it was. Oh, thank goodness! Another mystery solved.

“Sunshine,” I said, “I am so happy for you. Congratulations on your new boyfriend. You are very lucky. I met him in the art classroom when he was making your coffee mug, and he was very intent and focused on making it perfect. Seems like you two are a perfect match for each other.”

“When he didn’t win the scholarship award, I went up to him after the ceremony to tell him that I thought he should have won and I was sorry he lost. I didn’t even get a chance to say any of those things, because he was already telling me he’d made me something. The mug had to dry and be glazed and fired, so he actually just gave it to me this afternoon,” Sunshine said. “But guess what else he told me after the ceremony? He said he’s had a crush on me for years.”

“And did you have a crush on him?” Bess asked.

“For years too.” Sunshine nodded. “But I was just too shy to say or do anything about it.”

“This explains all your blushing,” I said. “You almost made yourself a suspect, Sunshine, with your odd, lovely behavior.”

We all laughed and moved back into the kitchen for more of Mrs. Gruen’s brownies. Sunshine filled her coffee mug — which in my opinion still kind of looked like a bowl, but I was definitely not going to say another word about it — with the hazelnut coffee I’d brewed shortly before she arrived.

The River Heights Celebration was over, and everyone was safe.

One giant mystery solved.

One girl getting to live out her college dream of going to Harvard.

And one fine romance.

It’s all in a day’s work in Nancyland....

 

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