Strike-Out Scare, Page 2

  “Never mind,” Bess said glumly to Charlotte. “Just let me know if you see it, okay?”

  “Is Magic Bill missing?” Charlotte asked her.

  Was Nancy imagining it, or did Charlotte sound kind of happy about it?

  I must be imagining it, Nancy thought.

  “There’s Rita,” Nancy said out loud to Bess and George. “Let’s go talk to her!”

  Nancy and her friends said good-bye to Charlotte and ran across the field. Rita was doing some stretches under a big oak tree.

  “Hi, Rita!” Nancy called out.

  Rita glanced up and smiled. “Hey, amigas! Did you bring your old bottle caps, George? Ready to play some chapitas?” she said cheerfully.

  “Maybe another time,” George replied. “Did you happen to take a bat home last night?”

  Rita frowned. “A bat? You mean a baseball bat? No, why would I?”

  “We were just wondering if anyone might have taken Magic Bill home by mistake,” Nancy explained.

  “Magic Bill?” Rita said curiously. “You mean your super-special bat, Bess? No, I definitely did not take it home with me.” She paused and added, “Why? Did you lose it?”

  “Maybe. We’re not sure yet,” Nancy said quickly. “Thanks a lot, Rita! Let us know if you see it, okay?”

  “Of course!” Rita promised.

  As they left Rita, Bess grabbed Nancy’s arm. “No one knows anything about Magic Bill,” she whispered. “That means it’s definitely, one hundred percent, absolutely gone!”

  Nancy nodded slowly. She had to agree. Magic Bill was gone. And most likely, someone had taken it—on purpose.

  “Well, Magic Bill may seem like magic, but it didn’t disappear into thin air,” Nancy pointed out. “If someone took it, then there might be some clues.”

  • • •

  Nancy got down on her knees and peered behind one of the benches in the dugout. It was really yucky under there. She saw lots of dirt and cobwebs. She noticed bubble gum wrappers and an old baseball cleat, too.

  But there was no Magic Bill.

  In the distance she heard Coach Gloria’s voice: “Okay, I want everyone to run two laps around the field!”

  Nancy stood up and brushed the dirt off her hands. She had sneaked away from practice for a few minutes to search the dugout for clues to Magic Bill’s thief—if there was a thief. But so far she had turned up nothing.

  I’d better get back to practice before Coach Gloria gets mad, Nancy thought as she walked toward the bleachers.

  Just then she noticed something shiny wedged in a slot in one of the floorboards. She bent down and peered into the crack. There was definitely something there.

  However, it was really stuck. Nancy couldn’t pry it loose with her fingers.

  Thinking quickly, she pulled one of her barrettes out of her hair. This should work, she told herself.

  She poked at the shiny object with her barrette. After a few seconds it came loose.

  Nancy picked it up and studied it. It was a coin.

  But it wasn’t like any coin she had ever seen. It had a picture of a strange-looking duck on it. Above the duck, it said: CANADA. Below the duck was printed: DOLLAR.

  “Canadian money!” Nancy said out loud.

  She was about to get up when she saw something else—something she hadn’t noticed before.

  Deep in the shadows under one of the benches was a long, jagged piece of wood.

  Nancy reached under the bench and pulled the wood out very carefully. She gasped when she realized what it was.

  It was a piece of a broken baseball bat. The bat was made of light-brown wood. There were some words written on it in green marker.

  The words said: MAGIC BILL.

  4

  A Raccoon Encounter

  Nancy felt a shiver go down her spine. Someone had left a broken bat in the dugout with the words MAGIC BILL on it. Creepy, she thought.

  Nancy turned the broken bat over in her hand. It was definitely not Magic Bill. Magic Bill was not made of wood.

  Then she studied the words on the bat. The marker was not light green and not dark green but somewhere in between. She held it up to the sunlight. She saw that the ink had bits of glitter in it too.

  This bat was definitely not here yesterday, Nancy thought. She and Bess and George had searched the dugout inside out. This meant that someone had left it here between yesterday and today.

  Nancy wasn’t sure about the Canadian coin. But she didn’t think it was here yesterday either.

  Nancy thought hard. There was only one reason someone would have left this broken bat here: to spook Bess about Magic Bill. And maybe that person dropped the Canadian coin by accident while he or she was planting the broken bat, she guessed.

  “What are you doing?”

  Nancy glanced up, startled. Coach Gloria’s son Austin was standing in the doorway. He was wearing a blue and yellow Marlins baseball cap backward on his head.

  Austin stared at the broken bat in her hand. “What’re you doing with a wooden bat?” he asked her. “You’re not allowed to have those.”

  “What do you mean?” Nancy asked him.

  “You’re not allowed to have wooden bats in the River Heights Junior Baseball League,” Austin explained. “That’s rule number 5.2 on page fifteen of the rule book,” he rattled off.

  “Wow, you really know the rules,” Nancy said, impressed. “It’s not my bat,” she continued. “I found it under the bench. Do you know where it might have come from?”

  Austin shook his head so hard that it made his glasses slide down his nose. “No way,” he said. He glanced over his shoulder. “I’d better get back on the field before Mom gets mad.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” Nancy said. She wrapped the broken bat carefully in one of her sweatshirts, then quickly put it and the Canadian coin into her backpack.

  As she walked back onto the field, her mind was racing. Someone took Magic Bill after yesterday’s game against the Skyville Sharks. Nancy was sure that the same person planted the broken bat sometime between then and now. That person had probably done it to make Bess think that Magic Bill was lying broken and useless somewhere.

  What a mean, awful thing to do! Nancy thought. She felt sorry for Bess—and more determined than ever to find Magic Bill’s thief.

  • • •

  “If the thief does anything to hurt Magic Bill, I will be really, really mad!” Bess exclaimed. She took a spoon and stuck it into her hot fudge sundae, making the whipped cream spill over the sides.

  Bess, Nancy, and George were sitting in a booth at the Double Dip. The Double Dip was their favorite ice cream parlor. They had gone there for an after-lunch snack.

  Nancy had told Bess and George all about the broken bat—and the Canadian coin, too. Seeing the broken bat with the words MAGIC BILL on it had made Bess more upset than ever.

  “We have to find Magic Bill,” Bess told Nancy. “I didn’t get one hit at practice today!”

  “That has nothing to do with Magic Bill,” Nancy said. “You’re just feeling bad.”

  “You don’t understand, Nancy. I can’t hit without Magic Bill!” Bess insisted. She plopped a big strawberry into her mouth and frowned.

  George took a bite of her Super-Duper Bubblegum Sundae. “We need to make a list of suspects,” she suggested.

  Nancy nodded. “Good idea. As soon as I get home, I’m going to get out my special blue detective notebook so we can—”

  But Nancy was interrupted by the sound of a loud voice coming from another booth.

  “The Raccoons are going to beat the Marlins on Friday,” said the voice. “I made sure of it!”

  5

  Striking Out

  Nancy whirled around in her chair. Someone was bragging that the Raccoons would beat the Marlins on Friday. That someone had a familiar-sounding voice. . . .

  Nancy recognized the person right away. “Alana,” she said under her breath.

  Bess and George craned their necks. “What�
��s she doing here?” Bess whispered.

  Alana Antiles was sitting two booths away. She was with three other girls. They were all wearing the same green jerseys with the white letter R on them. The four Raccoons were sharing a huge banana split with lots of cherries on top.

  Nancy frowned. What did Alana mean? How did she make sure the Raccoons would beat the Marlins on Friday? she wondered.

  And then it occurred to her. Alana had made a bet with Bess that the Raccoons would beat the Marlins. Alana had been at the game yesterday when Magic Bill had disappeared. And now Alana was bragging to her teammates that she could guarantee the Raccoons’ victory.

  Nancy turned around. “I think Alana could be our thief,” she whispered to her friends.

  “What?” Bess and George burst out in unison.

  Nancy put her finger to her lips. “Shhhhh! She’ll hear us.”

  George leaned across the table. “Why do you think Alana is our thief?” she whispered.

  Nancy explained her theory to George and Bess. When she was done, Bess looked even madder than before.

  “You’re right, Nancy. She has to be the thief!” she whispered angrily. “I’m going to go over there and make her give Magic Bill back right this second!”

  Nancy put her hand on Bess’s arm. “Wait. Let me talk to her, okay?” she suggested.

  Bess nodded. “Okay. You’re the detective.”

  Nancy got up and walked over to Alana’s booth. Bess and George followed.

  Alana looked up at Nancy and her friends. “Hey, Marlins!” she greeted them. “Have you come to beg for mercy?”

  “Hi, Alana,” Nancy said. “We have something to ask you.”

  “I know! You want to back out on our bet,” Alana said to Bess. She turned to her teammates and cracked up.

  Bess put her hands on her hips. “No way!”

  “Well, that’s too bad, because the Marlins are going to lose, lose, lose,” Alana said meanly.

  “What makes you so sure?” Nancy asked.

  Alana shrugged. “I have a super-secret strategy.”

  “Like stealing Bess’s bat?” Nancy blurted out.

  Alana made a face. “What are you talking about? Why would I want to steal Bess’s stupid old bat?”

  “It is not a stupid old bat!” Bess exclaimed. “It’s magic!”

  “Yeah, Alana!” George piped up. “You stole it because you were worried that Bess was going to hit a bunch of home runs on Friday.”

  Alana burst into laughter. “Are you kidding? Bess isn’t going to hit a single home run off of me on Friday—magic bat or no magic bat!”

  Nancy stared at Alana. “So what did you mean when you said you made sure the Raccoons would beat the Marlins?” she asked her.

  “I meant . . . hey, I don’t have to tell you!” Alana said, catching herself. “My super-duper winning strategy is top secret.” She narrowed her eyes at Nancy. “You were eavesdropping on us, weren’t you?”

  Nancy shook her head. “No way. But you were talking in kind of a loud voice.”

  “I think you were eavesdropping,” Alana accused her. “You’re nothing but Marlin spies! And there’s no way I’m going to tell you anything else about my top secret strategy!”

  • • •

  “Strike two!” the umpire exclaimed.

  Bess wiped her forehead with the back of her hand as the pitcher stepped off the mound. Nancy watched her friend from the dugout and sighed. Bess was having another bad day at bat.

  The Mahoney Marlins were playing a game against the Clifton Park Cougars. It was the fifth inning, with no outs. Rita was on first base. The Cougars were leading 4-2.

  Bess had been up to bat twice today—and each of those times she had struck out. She just couldn’t seem to make contact with the ball.

  Nancy knew that Bess’s hitting slump had nothing to do with the fact that she wasn’t batting with Magic Bill. The problem was, Bess didn’t know that. Bess really and truly believed that the only way she could get a hit was with Magic Bill.

  George leaned over to Nancy. “We have to find Magic Bill before Friday,” she whispered.

  Nancy nodded. Friday was the big game against the Raccoons. “That’s only two days away,” she pointed out.

  “I know,” George said gloomily.

  The pitcher threw the next pitch. Nancy and George held their breaths.

  Bess swung—and missed. “Strike three!” the umpire declared.

  Bess walked back to the dugout with a long face. Coach Gloria patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Bess,” she reassured her.

  “Thanks, Coach Gloria,” Bess said. She sounded really bummed out.

  Bess plopped down next to Nancy and George. “I should probably just quit the team,” she grumbled. “I’m totally useless!”

  Nancy shook her head. “No way! First of all, you’re an awesome catcher, and I need you. The team needs you. Second of all, you’re just having a bad hitting streak.”

  “Bad? It’s more like the worst hitting streak ever in baseball history,” Bess corrected her.

  George gave Bess a hug. “Don’t worry, we’ll find Magic Bill soon,” she promised.

  “At least she’s getting lots of hits,” Bess said, nodding in the direction of home plate.

  Nancy glanced up. Charlotte Karol was up at bat. Bess was right. Charlotte had already gotten two hits today.

  Then Nancy’s eyes fell on something in the corner of the dugout. It was a big, dark green duffel bag with the initials CK on it in light green.

  CK must stand for Charlotte Karol, Nancy thought.

  Nancy could see the outline of something long and skinny bulging against the side of the bag.

  It looked like . . . a bat.

  Could it be Magic Bill? Nancy wondered.

  6

  Lost and Found?

  Nancy frowned as she stared at Charlotte’s bag. Could Charlotte have stolen Magic Bill?

  Charlotte didn’t look very happy the other day when the Marlins beat the Skyville Sharks. Bess had hit a home run in the last inning. Kids on the team had started calling her “Home Run Bess.”

  Until Magic Bill was stolen, Bess was the number one hitter on the team. Charlotte was number two.

  Maybe Charlotte would have preferred to be number one, Nancy thought. Maybe she would have preferred to be “Home Run Charlotte.”

  Maybe she had taken Magic Bill to make sure of that.

  “George! Bess!” Nancy whispered. “Take a look at that bag over there.”

  George and Bess followed Nancy’s glance. “What is it, Nancy?” George whispered.

  “It’s Charlotte’s bag,” Nancy replied. “Doesn’t that look like a bat inside of it?”

  “I guess so,” Bess said after a moment. Then she put her hands on her mouth and gasped. “You don’t think it’s Magic Bill, do you?”

  “I don’t know,” Nancy said. “But I’m going to find out.”

  Nancy glanced over at home plate. Charlotte was still up at bat.

  “Stay here,” Nancy told her friends.

  Nancy got up from her seat on the bench and walked over to the corner. She sat down on that end of the bench and pretended to do some leg stretches.

  As she stretched, she leaned over and tried to peek inside Charlotte’s bag. It was halfway open. But all Nancy could see was a rumpled green sweatshirt and a water bottle. She couldn’t make out what the long, skinny object was.

  “What are you doing?”

  Nancy’s head shot up. Austin was standing there. He was holding a bucket full of balls.

  Nancy smiled nervously at him. “I’m just stretching,” she told him. “The bench was too crowded over there.”

  Austin pushed his glasses up his nose. “Did your friend ever find her bat?” he asked her.

  “No, we haven’t found it yet,” Nancy replied. “But we will!”

  Coach Gloria called over Austin, and he shuffled off. Nancy glanced at home plate. Charlotte was just about to
swing at a pitch.

  But at the last minute Charlotte held the bat across the front of her chest, instead of over her shoulder. She hit the pitch lightly— thunk! The ball bobbed and bounced toward third base.

  “Run, Charlotte! Run, Rita!” Coach Gloria shouted.

  Charlotte headed toward first base at full speed. Rita, who had been on first, headed toward second.

  The third-base player for the Clifton Park Cougars scooped up the ball and threw it to first base. The first-base player caught it and touched the base with her foot. “Out!” the umpire called, pointing to Charlotte.

  Charlotte turned around and trotted back to the dugout. Rita was safe on second base.

  “Nice sacrifice bunt, Charlotte!” Coach Gloria called out.

  Nancy remembered what a sacrifice bunt was. It meant that Charlotte had hit the ball lightly on purpose, with her bat held out in front of her. That way the person on first base could run to second base—even though it meant Charlotte would be thrown out.

  Now Charlotte was almost at the dugout. Nancy had to think quickly. I’ve got to get her to let me see inside her duffel bag, she thought.

  Then Nancy had a great idea. She reached behind her head and yanked her purple scrunchie out of her hair. She held it over the opening in Charlotte’s bag and let go of it.

  “What are you doing with my bag?”

  It was Charlotte. She was walking into the dugout. She stared curiously at Nancy, then down at her bag.

  “Hey, Charlotte,” Nancy said, smiling. “Awesome bunt! Hey, this is your bag, right? I dropped my scrunchie into it by accident while I was doing some stretches. I’m really sorry, but could you get it for me?”

  Charlotte looked confused. “Um, sure.”

  She sat down on the bench next to Nancy and leaned over to unzip her bag all the way. Nancy watched carefully as Charlotte dug through the contents in search of Nancy’s scrunchie.

  “What color is it?” Charlotte asked Nancy.

  “Purple,” Nancy replied.

  Charlotte pulled her sweatshirt out of her bag and threw it on the bench. Just then Nancy caught sight of the long, skinny object. It didn’t look quite like a bat. But she couldn’t be sure . . . .