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    Ebook128 pages1 hour

    Squeeze Play

    By Carolyn Keene

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    About this ebook

    Nancy Drew comes to the aid of Sean Reeves, the star pitcher of the River Heights Falcons, when his young daughter is kidnapped and the price of her release is for him to lose the championship game.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSimon Pulse
    Release dateNov 11, 2014
    ISBN9781481440073
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    Author

    Carolyn Keene

    Carolyn Keene is the author of the ever-popular Nancy Drew books.

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      Book preview

      Squeeze Play - Carolyn Keene

      Chapter

      One

      ISN’T IT EXCITING, Nancy! Bess Marvin practically sang the words, her long blond hair streaming back in the breeze. Even though it was a hot late-summer afternoon, the girls had turned the air conditioning off so the ride wouldn’t feel claustrophobic. They were on their way to a baseball game a few miles away. Three hours from now we’ll be eating pizza with the next great catcher of the major leagues."

      From the driver’s seat of her blue Mustang, Nancy Drew grinned but kept her eyes on the road. Luke Darlington has a way to go before he makes it into the Baseball Hall of Fame, Nancy said. I bet he’s still the same redheaded, freckle-faced kid we knew in school.

      He is, and he isn’t, Bess’s cousin, George Fayne, said from the backseat. His freckles are still there, and his hair’s still red, but he’s different somehow.

      Nancy caught a glimpse of George’s face in the rearview mirror. Her dark eyes were focused someplace in the distance. Tall and athletic, she was much less flirtatious than Bess, which was why Nancy always paid close attention when George showed interest in a guy.

      Luke Darlington had graduated from River Heights High two years before Nancy, George, and Bess. He had been playing baseball in the minor leagues since then and had been traded to River Heights’s AAA team just a month earlier. Nancy and George had been in Japan at the time, solving a mystery. When they’d arrived home, they’d been delighted to learn that Luke was now playing with the River Heights Falcons.

      Tell me again about running into him and getting the tickets, Bess begged, throwing one arm over the back of her seat as she spoke to George. Were there any other players with him? Like Sean Reeves? He is so awesome! I’d die to meet him.

      Nancy was surprised that Bess even knew the name of the famous relief pitcher Sean Reeves. But then, she remembered, Bess had started working at the concession stand at the Falcons’ stadium the night before. Obviously Bess would have picked up the name of one of the best-looking players in baseball.

      As I already told you, I ran into Luke at the mall, George replied. We talked for a while about his moving back here. He said he could get tickets for us—and, no, Sean Reeves wasn’t with him.

      I hope Reeves plays today, Nancy said, brushing back her shoulder-length, reddish blonde hair. He’s supposed to have the best knuckleball in baseball.

      And the best relief record in the majors, Bess said, showing off her new knowledge.

      A relief pitcher had the job of finishing a ball game when the starting pitcher tired or began pitching badly.

      Do you think it’s true Sean was dropped down to the minors so the Falcons could win the AAA championship? Bess asked over her shoulder.

      I don’t really think so, George said. The last two games he pitched in the majors were really bad. I think they sent him down for a tune-up. The owners probably hope to get him playing better before the major league playoffs this fall.

      Well, he was in tune last night, Bess said with a smile. Bess had told Nancy and George how Sean had come into the game in the seventh inning the night before. His pitching had helped the Falcons come from behind to beat the Mill City Rangers in the first game of their five-game series that would decide the league championship.

      Watch out for that— George’s words were drowned out by the sound of squealing tires as a concrete-mixing truck skidded into the intersection just ahead of them.

      Nancy had already spotted the truck and swerved quickly to the right to avoid a collision, then eased the wheel back to the left to avoid skidding.

      Where did that guy get his license? Bess said, shaking her head.

      When Nancy arrived at the stadium, which was known as the Roost, the lot was still mostly empty. She found a spot close to the entrance.

      Next to her, Bess was nervously checking her watch. I’ve got five minutes to get there, she said, adjusting the clasp that held her ponytail. I’m supposed to be at the concession stand at one-fifteen sharp. Bess jumped out of the car and led her more athletic friends to the entrance. Though Bess was on the verge of being late, Nancy and George were early for the two o’clock game.

      Bess showed her employee’s pass as Nancy and George presented tickets stamped complimentary.

      Friends of a player? the ticket taker asked.

      Yes, Luke Darlington, George said, her dark eyes sparkling.

      Oh, one of the new guys, the man replied, handing back their ticket stubs.

      Within minutes the girls had reached the concession stand Bess was to work. It was tucked under the seats on the visiting team’s side of the field. Nancy and George stayed long enough to buy the first hot dogs off the grill and to compliment Bess on her blue Falcon shirt and green apron. Then they agreed to meet by the Falcons’ locker room after the game.

      Nancy and George headed down the wide concrete passageway lined with concession stands. When they came to a stand that sold Ranger and Falcon souvenirs, Nancy stopped. I’ll have a Falcon button, she told the clerk. One with the feathers. She handed the girl two dollars and took a pin with a picture of the Falcons’ comical mascot on the front and a half circle of fluffy blue feathers around the top edge.

      A program and a button for me, too, George said, taking out her wallet. It’s the least I can do to show Luke I’m a fan.

      Tell me the truth about you and Luke, Nancy said, watching George’s dark eyes.

      Now, Nancy—George shook her finger playfully—don’t start questioning me like one of your suspects. George had helped Nancy solve many mysteries and knew better than to let herself be grilled by the ace teen detective.

      "But you are a suspect, Nancy said, trying to sound mysterious. You show all the signs of being interested in a certain Falcon catcher."

      We’re just friends, George said, moving up the ramp that led outside to the seats. There we are, she said, pointing.

      Wow, he must really like you, Nancy said. These are in the front row!

      George was smiling as the girls sat down.

      Nancy wished that her boyfriend, Ned Nickerson, was with them. He had been gone for three weeks, working as a volunteer at a youth basketball camp sponsored by his college athletics department. Nancy missed him, but considering how often he had to be understanding of her work, she knew she had to be understanding of his.

      On the field the Falcons and Rangers were warming up, and Nancy used her binoculars to focus on Luke Darlington’s face. He was number 12 on the Falcon team.

      There’s Reeves, George said, pointing to the Falcons’ pitcher. "He is handsome."

      And a millionaire, from what I hear, Nancy added. His last contract with the Captains, his major league team, was for $2.2 million for two years.

      I can understand the Rangers’ owner being mad when the Captains moved a major league player down to their top farm team just in time for the championships. Even playing badly, he could be a real threat in the minor leagues, George said.

      Are an AAA team, a farm team, and a minor league team all the same? Nancy asked.

      Pretty much, George answered. Triple A ball is the best, and every major league is affiliated with a Triple A team. Most major league players spend some time on a farm team before moving up. Also, guys are sent back down to the minors when they’re in slumps to work out their problems.

      Nancy watched as the teams cleared the field for the start of the game. Unlike their opponents, the Falcons had never won a league championship, and no one expected them to beat the Rangers—until Sean had arrived.

      The Falcons’ll be heroes in River Heights if they win the championship, Nancy said. As she spoke, the Falcon players were introduced one at a time, and the River Heights side of the stadium erupted in cheers.

      I know you’re right, George said, surveying the crowd. And Stormy Tarver would be green with envy.

      George pointed toward a box across the stadium. Stormy Tarver, the Rangers’ owner, was arriving just in time for the national anthem. Her short bleached-blond hair and large-boned frame made her easy to spot. Nancy saw her stop on the walkway beside her box, holding a cushion and thermos. She stood at attention until the anthem was over. Then Stormy tossed her things over the railing into the reserved box and turned to lead the Ranger fans in a cheer.

      She’s really something, Nancy said, adjusting the focus on her binoculars. Once in Mill City she went out on the field to argue with an umpire.

      Nobody likes to win as much as Stormy, George commented. I wonder why she was late. She usually arrives half an hour before the game starts to fire up the fans.

      "Maybe she

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