Free The Case of the Photo Finish by Carolyn Keene Page A

recall seeing Marta? Helga?”
    He shook his head, then said, “Wait, Marta I remember. I saw her at the edge of the pool before Cheryl started to dive.”
    â€œYou’re sure? Did you see which way she went?”
    â€œThat I cannot say.” He frowned. “I think I wondered if she was leaving the pool, so she might have been toward the door. But I cannot be sure.”
    He glanced at his watch and added, “I am sorry, I really must go to the track to warm up.”
    â€œThanks, you’ve been a great help,” Nancy said. “And good luck in the fifteen hundred meters.”
    As Willy strode away, Cheryl turned to Nancy and said, “Marta’s the one, isn’t she? That innocent look of hers is a lie!”
    â€œWell . . .” Nancy hesitated. “If Willy’s recollection is right, it means that she could have turned off the lights. It doesn’t mean that she did. A lot of other people were here, too. And whether Marta had a part in any of the other incidents, we just don’t know.”
    â€œMaybe you don’t,” Cheryl said grimly, “but I do. And I’m not going to take it lying down!”
    She pulled her sweatshirt over her head and stormed off toward the locker room. Nancy hurried after her. Mr. Hornby was counting on her to head off trouble, and right now Cheryl was like a bundle of dynamite looking for a place to explode.
    Cheryl pushed through the locker-room doors, with Nancy right behind her. Inside they found Annelise sitting on a bench in front of an openlocker whose door was beat up and dented. Annelise looked up, startled. She was in her shorts and jersey, and a folded pair of white warm-up pants was lying next to her on the bench.
    â€œHave you seen Marta?” demanded Cheryl.
    â€œShe and Helga were here a few minutes ago,” Annelise told her. “She changed into running clothes and left. I think you will find her at the track.” She stood up and pulled on the white pants.
    â€œHey!” Cheryl said. “How’d you rate a fresh warm-up suit? You must know somebody!”
    â€œIt is so stupid,” Annelise replied, looking embarrassed. “I spilled some juice on my pants. It is a guava juice I always drink when I am in training or competition, and it made a bright pink stain.” She gestured toward the open locker. “I tried to get it off, but it looked dreadful. So I told the man in the supply room, and he gave me these new pants.”
    Cheryl nodded distractedly. “Well, I’d better change and get over to the track. I need to have a talk with someone.”
    She reached in the pocket of her sweatshirt for, the key to her locker. “What—?” she murmured, pulling a piece of paper from her pocket.
    â€œWhat is it?” Nancy asked.
    Cheryl unfolded the paper, and the color drained from her face.
    A second later, she handed the sheet to Nancy.
    â€œGo home now,” the note read, “before it’s too late.”

10
Marta’s Confession
    Nancy reread the threatening note, then asked, “This wasn’t in your pocket before, was it?”
    Cheryl blinked. “No, no. I would have found it when I dropped my locker key in, wouldn’t I?” She fell silent for a moment, then burst out, “Who’s doing this? Who’s after me? I’ve never done anyone any harm. Why does somebody want to hurt me?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Nancy admitted. “But I’m going to do everything I can to find out.”
    Holding the note by the corners, she studied it closely. The words in the message had apparently been cut from a glossy magazine. But what kind of magazine?
    â€œWhat is it?” Cheryl asked.
    â€œNothing,” said Nancy. “Not yet, at least. I wish I had a pair of tweezers with me.”
    â€œTweezers?” Annelise asked. “One moment.” She reached in her locker, withdrew a cosmetic bag, and