“Just about,” Victor boasted. “Figuring out the access codes is my hobby, the same way some guys customize cars, or play video games, or collect weird road signs.”
Nancy shook her head. “Aren’t you running a big risk, though? Changing people’s grades is really asking for trouble.”
“Wait a minute,” he said, holding up a hand. “I never said I was changing grades, just that it wouldn’t be that hard to do.” He pointed toward the file folder on the desk. “If I was into changing grades, do you think I’d still have that D from last year’s English class on my record?”
“That’s a point,” Nancy conceded. She was about to ask Victor more questions, but the bell in the hallway started to ring.
“Wow! I can’t believe it’s lunchtime already.” Victor turned off the terminal and gathered his books. At the door, he looked back. “Thanks for the English lesson,” he said. “I actually understood some of it. Hey, could I interest you in getting a burger after school? With me, I mean. My treat.”
Nancy thought quickly. Victor might well be behind the grade-changing scheme. Even if he wasn’t, he seemed to know more about the computer system than anyone else around. “Okay.”
“All right! I’ll meet you in the parking lot around three.” He flashed her a quick grin, and then he was gone.
Nancy found herself smiling. She couldn’t help liking Victor, so far. In the past she’d learned the hard way that—well, even bad guys could have charming smiles.
All the students were probably down in the lunchroom by now. This would be a good time to check out some of the other classrooms.
Nancy shut the door to the learning lab behind her. Checking each classroom, she made her way down the second-floor hallway.
Half the school was on the first lunch shift, so many of the classrooms were empty. Nancy was looking for rooms with computers, places where the mysterious E-mail message might have been sent from, and also a place where the hacker—if it turned out to be a student—could sit, undisturbed, to work his or her grade changes.
Suddenly she stopped. Alone in a classroom with three computers was a short, petite girl with shoulder-length dark hair held back with a headband. She sat working on one of the computers. When Nancy’s shoe scuffed the floor, the girl jumped and turned around anxiously.
“Oh! You scared me!” she cried, seeing Nancy in the doorway. The girl wore an oversize purple sweatshirt over loose-fitting corduroy pants. Her surprised expression quickly changed to one of annoyance as she asked, “Are you looking for something?”
“Just checking out the building,” Nancy told her. She introduced herself as Nancy Stevens and explained that she was the new tutor at Brewster. As Nancy spoke, the girl hit a few computer buttons and closed out the file she’d been working on. Was she finished, Nancy wondered, or was she hiding what she had been writing?
“Catching up on homework?” Nancy asked pleasantly.
“Not quite,” the girl said curtly. “My name’s Randi Peters. I’m the editor of the Academician.” She was clearly impressed with her title. “I’m working on an article for the paper. Hey, how about being interviewed?”
Nancy blinked. Had her cover been blown already? “Interview me?” she said cautiously. “About what?”
“About the tutoring program, of course,” Randi said. “I haven’t done a story on it yet. I think it’s a natural, don’t you?”
“Sure,” Nancy agreed quickly. It was perfect—only Nancy hoped she would be the one getting useful information. “But I don’t have my schedule on me. I don’t know when I’ll be free. I’ll have to call you.”
Randi smiled. “Okay. See you soon, then.”
Nancy said goodbye and returned to the learning lab for her afternoon tutorials. After her last student, she met Victor in the parking lot and followed his battered old green sedan to the Roost, a hangout a few blocks from Brewster Academy.
The place was just beginning to fill up. Nancy nodded to Sally Lane, who was sitting with friends in a nearby booth. With a quick tilt of her chin, Sally quietly acknowledged the greeting. Nancy looked around, admiring the dozens of high-school pennants hanging from the ceiling and the motorcycle fixed high on the back wall.
“There’s a table over there,” Victor said, pointing to the far side of the room.
“Great,” said Nancy. “I’ll just wash my hands and be right back.”
As Nancy passed Sally’s booth, one of the girls sitting with her—she had short, wavy blond hair and pale blue eyes—looked up. Nancy was surprised when she saw the expression of hatred on the girl’s face. She tried to think if she had crossed paths with the girl somewhere, but nothing came to her.
Nancy was drying her hands when the bathroom door flew open. Startled, Nancy glanced over her shoulder. The girl from Sally’s booth was standing with her back against the door and her hands in the pockets of her leather motorcycle jacket. Her expression was even more hostile than before. There was no mistaking it now—Nancy was definitely the target of her anger.
The girl was short and delicate, but the fury on her face made Nancy cautious. She knew that rage often made people stronger than they seemed.
“I know who you are and what you’re up to,” the girl snarled.
Who was this girl? What did she know? Right now the most important thing was to get away from her. “If you’ll please move, I’d like to leave,” said Nancy, advancing toward the door.
With shocking strength, the girl pushed Nancy back. “You’re not going anywhere,” she said in a voice full of menace. “Not until I’m through with you.”
Chapter Five
Nancy staggered back, almost losing her footing. This girl was out of control. Nancy would have to deal with her carefully.
“I’m telling you, you’re mistaken,” Nancy said. “I don’t know you.”
“Maybe not,” the girl countered. “But I’m going to make sure you remember me for a long time.”
The girl pulled her right hand back, as if to rake her nails across Nancy’s face. As her arm started to move, Nancy reached up and caught her wrist. Her thumb pressed on a spot where the nerves that control the hand run close to the surface. The girl turned pale, and her hand opened.
“Let me go,” she muttered through clenched teeth.
“Kim!” a high-pitched voice called. “What’s going on in there?”
Nancy took a quick step to the left and put her back to the wall, ready to take on two attackers if she had to. But the newcomer was Sally, her hazel eyes filled with concern.
“Nothing,” Nancy’s opponent said, almost spitting out the word. A moment later she stormed out of the rest room.
“Who was that, and what is her problem?” Nancy asked Sally.
“Her name’s Kim Forster,” Sally replied. “When she saw you walk in with Victor, it kind of lit her fuse, if you know what I mean.”
“You mean, she and Victor—” Nancy leaned back against the wall. “I thought maybe she found out I was investigating this case and she was involved somehow.”
“I doubt it,” said Sally. “She’s got this intense thing for Victor. They dated for a while. Kim didn’t seem that upset when it ended, but for the past couple of weeks all she can talk about is what a rat he is.”
“That’s odd,” Nancy remarked. “I wonder what set her off?” With a shake of her head, she added, “Well, I’ve got other things to worry about. Have you discovered if any other kids have been approached by the grade-changer?”
“No luck so far. How about you?”
“Nothing yet,” Nancy told her. “Listen, I’d better get back to Victor. He’s probably wondering what happened to me.”
“And I’d better get back to Kim,” Sally replied. “Now that she’s cooled off a little, I’d better make sure she stays that way.”