08 The Magician's Secret (2 page)

“Uh-oh. Is this another case for Detective Drew? The Case of the Disappearing Courthouse?” George asked with a giggle.

“Exactly.” I laughed and headed out the door.

THE MAGIC SHOW WAS AT
one p.m. Right outside the River Heights courthouse. As it turned out, the seats my dad gave me were located in the same row as the ones I had bought. Bess batted her eyes and convinced an older couple to trade tickets with me so we could all sit together. She was great at getting what she wanted; the couple even smiled at her as they scooted down.

“Here.” George held out Dad's ticket envelope. “We should save the seat on the aisle for Ned. That way if he shows up, he won't have to step over anyone.”

On the way over it had dawned on me that it was going to be extra difficult for Ned and my dad to get into the courthouse's evidence locker today. Not only was it a Saturday, but the River Heights courthouse was the centerpiece of Drake Lonestar's show. His grand trick was to make the big historic building disappear. Even if the lawyers got permission to enter the storage area, the investigation would probably have to wait until after the performance.

So maybe Ned would be able to attend the show after all. He wasn't going to be able to do much on the case for the next few hours anyway.

I took the envelope. “Good idea. I'll sit in seat B. We'll save A for Ned.” I looked over my shoulder to see if there was any sign of him. I knew I was acting obsessive, but I really hoped he would come.

There was also a different reason I was glancing around. “I'd like to check out the stage area,” I said, pushing a long strand of hair off my face.

“We'll come with you.” Bess smoothed her bright-green skirt and grinned at me. “The show starts in fifteen
minutes. Let's see what kind of trouble you can get into until then.”

I laughed. “I'm not looking for trouble.”

“You never are,” George replied, putting a hand on my back. “But you're a magnet for it.”

“If there's trouble around, it will find you,” Bess added.

“Not today,” I said firmly.

“Right.” George winked and Bess laughed.

As we walked to the stage area, I turned and looked toward the audience. Metal folding chairs were set in long rows. There were enough seats for about three hundred people. Employees in Lonestar T-shirts—black with a silver star on the sleeve—were ushering ticket holders to their seats.

“Wow, it's really exciting,” Bess said, pointing out that there was only one entrance to the area. Curtains, ropes, and caution tape created a closed space, with the courthouse straight ahead. “I don't know why Lonestar picked River Heights, but I'm so glad he did.”

“He threw a dart at a US map and then came to the
place that it landed on,” George said. “It just happened to be River Heights.”

Bess looked at her. “How on earth did you know that?”

“When Nancy said her dad had the extra seats, I checked him out online.” George shrugged as if she wondered why Bess hadn't thought to do the same.

“You amaze me,” Bess said, shaking her head.

A banging sound made us all swing around.

George pointed. “Hey, look!”

There was a commotion near the back of the audience. At the left side of the entryway, a man had jumped the rope boundary. He was shouting, “Drake! You're the best!” In literally seconds, the Lonestar staff had stopped him and were escorting him outside.

I took a sharp breath and quickly scanned the area. “Security sure is tight,” I noted. Big signs had warned:
NO CAMERAS OR RECORDING DEVICES
. We'd had to leave our smartphones at a check-in booth. In addition to Lonestar's own security team, the local police were out in force.

Above us, two helicopters hovered in the distance. The blades hummed in the light spring breeze. I pointed them out to Bess and George.

“Those are military helicopters,” George remarked. Along with computers, her obsession was anything mechanical. She knew a lot about all kinds of hardware. “I think the models were retired. Must be more of the magician's private security.” She made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Interesting.”

I'd never seen a show like this, but I wondered if the security and helicopters were there to protect skeptics from ruining the illusion. I assumed I wasn't the only one there who was eager to figure out how the trick worked.

I turned toward the stage. It was the same standard rented raised platform the town used for outdoor concerts, and it had been set up near the bottom of the courthouse steps. Several thick, billowy velvet curtains framed the stage, and spotlights dotted the makeshift ceiling.

“Come on,” I said to my friends. “Let's check it out.”

“Don't get too close,” George said, then leaned in and warned, “You don't want to get kicked out because you were snooping.”

“We aren't snooping,” I countered. “We're just surveying the scene!”

As I said that, I could feel the eyes of a Lonestar employee watching our every move. Glancing over my shoulder, I spotted a security guard with thinning, gray-speckled brown hair and very big arm muscles standing under a tree. He winked at me, not in a bad way, but in a way that let me know he was doing his job.

I gave him a tiny smile and looked away.

Bess pulled my arm and we moved to the side of the stage, where a small set of steps led to a thick, black curtain.

I guess Bess and George could sense my inner detective getting into gear, because they both shook their heads, but I put my finger to my lips, checked to make sure the burly security guard wasn't looking our way, and darted up the steps. I knew it probably wasn't the smartest move, but I was dying to know
what was back there. And Bess and George must have felt the same, because they followed me. I parted the curtain panels, and the three of us found ourselves in the stage's wings.

The stage setup was simple: a table sat in the middle with black top hat—the old-fashioned kind magicians usually drew a rabbit from—sitting on it. I have to admit, I was surprised the stage was so bare. I don't know what I expected, but at least a few props or something.

“Magic baff  les me,” I said. “It takes so much preparation to pull off a single trick.” I seriously had no idea how Drake Lonestar was going to make the huge, solid courthouse disappear, and looking around the stage certainly gave me no clues.

Suddenly loud orchestral music blared from the speakers, and the stage curtains slowly pulled back. A murmur rose from the audience, who seemed to be scrambling back to their seats.

“Wait!” George hissed. “Is that smoke? The show isn't supposed to start yet.”

Sure enough, smoke had started emanating from the stage. I squinted, trying to make out what was happening.

Bess glanced at her watch. “It's still ten minutes to showtime. Maybe he likes to get things started early?”

Just then the hat levitated a few inches off the table, hovering in midair for about a minute before settling down again.

Screams and whistles, as well as scattered applause, could be heard from the audience, and the curtain closed once again.

“Whoa! Did you guys see that?” George exclaimed. “I wonder if the hat was connected by wires.”

“We sometimes like to give our audience a little preshow teaser.” A tall and very physically fit man appeared, seemingly from nowhere. He was about my dad's age, had long, dark, curly hair, and was wearing sunglasses that were so dark I couldn't see his eyes. He held out his hand. “I'm Drake Lonestar.”

“I'm Nancy,” I said, and quickly introduced Bess and George too.

“It's no fair snooping around before the show,” he said with a chuckle. “This trick demands an audience that's willing to believe in the illusion.”

“Oh—um, I—,” I stuttered. “We weren't snooping. . . .”

Bess coughed.

“We're just surveying the scene,” George said as she elbowed me in the ribs and chuckled.

I quickly changed the subject. “I've seen your magic on TV. Very impressive. Of course, I can't help but wonder how you make things disappear.”

“You'll see for yourself soon enough,” Drake Lonestar said. “Be patient. Are you willing to believe, even for a moment, that what I am about to do is real?”

“I . . .” I stalled. If I had to admit the truth, then the answer was no. I liked understanding what really happened behind the curtain. Was I willing to let go of the detective in me, just for an hour?

“I'll try to sit back and enjoy the show,” I finally answered.

“That's all I can ask,” Lonestar said. And with a
wave of his hand, he produced three roses out of thin air. He gave one to Bess, one to George, and one to me.

“Hugo will take you back to your seats.”

Hugo turned out to be the beefy guard who'd winked at me earlier. He surprised me when he put a hand on my back. I jumped, and Lonestar laughed.

“Hugo LaBlanca has been on my staff for twenty years. If I disappeared right now, I'd trust him to take over the show.” Lonestar snapped his fingers, and I half expected him to actually disappear, but he didn't.

For his part, while Lonestar was joking around, Hugo showed no response. He touched my elbow, which made me jump again, and a moment later escorted us away, with no room for any further snooping . . . or surveying.

We hadn't gotten far when Drake Lonestar called out to me, “Nancy Drew.”

I turned.

Wait a minute. Drake Lonestar had just called me by my last name, but I was positive I hadn't told him
anything other than “Nancy” when we'd first met.

“Don't forget.” He took off his sunglasses and stared at me with the greenest cat eyes I had ever seen. “Magic is a mystery that doesn't need solving.”

His words echoed in my ears as Hugo led us back into the audience.

I SAT DOWN IN SEAT
B and twisted the rose stem. The blossom was closed, the petals waiting to open and reveal the fragrance inside.

“Did you hear what he said?” I asked my friends. “Mystery? Somehow he knows who I am.”

George rolled her eyes and muttered, “I wouldn't take anything that guy says seriously, Nancy. He was so arrogant. Instead let's try to figure out how the trick is done.”

“I liked him,” Bess cut in. She ran the rose across her cheek. “He's charming.”

“Blech.” George rolled her eyes. “You'd think any guy who gave you flowers was charming.”

“Maybe,” Bess admitted. “But tell me, George—how did he know there were three of us? He would have needed to have the roses with him when he first approached.”

“He saw us outside the curtain,” George said, shrugging. “Not so tricky.”

Bess was clearly willing to let the magic slide over and impress her. George, not so much.

On this I was more like George, but I'd promised Lonestar I'd try to be more like Bess. Letting my mind go blank was harder than I had ever imagined, and I had to chase away any thoughts that the rose was in his sleeve or that he'd had an accomplice or that he'd distracted us with Hugo. I was fighting against my own busy brain.

I was grateful when the show's music started again and the curtains parted.

With a puff of smoke and a flash of lights, Drake Lonestar appeared, seemingly from nowhere, up on the stage.

He waved a hand and a screen appeared behind him. On the screen was a short video. I couldn't help myself. I flipped my head around to look for a projector. I didn't see one, but that didn't mean anything. I wasn't privy to the latest, most advanced technology; that was George's domain.

Poof.

A flash of smoke and Lonestar levitated above the stage, floating high over the screen.

“Wires,” George whispered to me, though I didn't see any. He hovered while the screen lit up with his name and logo.