A Date with Deception by Carolyn Keene

the music, and when Sasha grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the floor, she threw back her head and laughed with pleasure.
    Nancy hid her surprise that Sasha hadn’t asked her to dance. Oh, well, why should she mind? Anyway, she had other things to think about.
    Dmitri sat down by himself at an empty table and glowered as his charges enjoyed themselves on the dance floor. Nancy’s interest was caught for a second by Jacques as heapproached Dmitri’s table, but the French dancer merely smiled and walked on by.
    Nancy bought a soda and checked her watch. She’d reached the reporter, Susan Wexler, who’d been eager to talk about Jetstream—especially after Nancy had told her that a Jetstream pilot would be part of the group. She wouldn’t be there for another half hour, so Nancy found a table and sat down to watch the action.
    The place was packed. After twenty minutes, Nancy lost track of almost everyone except Sasha. He was easy to spot, moving through the crowd, dancing with just about everyone. He danced as well to rock as to ballet music, and Nancy had trouble keeping her eyes off him. At least, she thought, he’s been keeping his promise about backing off.
    Sasha whirled in time to the music and caught Nancy staring at him. He grinned and waved—and then he winked.
    Nancy shook her head, smiling to herself. Sasha might be backing off, but he wasn’t giving up. Nancy had the feeling he’d be at her side before long, so she decided to take a quick walk outside. She could use some fresh air.
    The Lobster Tank was right at the edge of an inlet, and the breeze felt sticky with salt but cool. Nancy was thinking about Jetstream, when she noticed a piece of paper stuck under the windshield wiper of her car.
    Probably from the Lobster Tank, shethought, advertising a new band or something. She pulled the paper off and looked at it.
    Scrawled across the back of a flyer, in black Magic Marker, was her name. Underneath it was a warning: “Stop now your investigation of Jetstream or you will regret it. Curious detectives do not die of old age.”

Chapter

Seven
    W HAT IS THAT in your hand?”
    Nancy jumped, whirled around, and came face-to-face with Sasha. Directly behind him were Marina and Dmitri.
    â€œSasha, you shouldn’t sneak up on people like that!” Nancy said. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”
    â€œI didn’t mean to startle you,” he told her. “I saw you come out and was afraid you were leaving before I had a chance to say good night. Dmitri was afraid to let me come by myself, I think, so he followed me.”
    â€œSasha!” Dmitri growled. “You did not tellme where you were going. It is my job to make sure you do not come to harm.”
    Ignoring Dmitri’s excuse, Sasha pointed to the flyer in Nancy’s hand. “What is that?” he asked again.
    Before Nancy could say anything, Sasha had taken the paper from her and was reading it. Then, with an air of triumph, he showed it to Marina and Dmitri.
    â€œYou see?” he said to them. “Didn’t I tell you this was a true mystery?” He turned back to Nancy, his eyes sparkling. “This is an exciting development, isn’t it?”
    Nancy snatched the paper back. “I hardly call having my life threatened an ‘exciting development,’ Sasha.”
    â€œI must agree with Miss Drew,” Dmitri said.
    â€œI, too, Sasha.” Marina’s dark eyes were flashing. Nancy wasn’t sure if she was frightened or angry. “This is not a game.”
    â€œSuch stays-in-the-mud,” Sasha said, sighing dramatically.
    â€œIt’s ‘sticks-in-the-mud,’ ” Nancy said. “And Marina’s right. This isn’t a game.”
    Dmitri nodded. “Sasha, Miss Drew is the detective. You are the dancer. Come.”
    With a rueful smile, Sasha started to follow them inside. Suddenly he bolted and ran back to