A Date with Deception by Carolyn Keene Page A

few classes in engineering and design—all pilots have to. If we got the right stuff, I think I’ll be able to find what we’re looking for.”
    â€œWhat exactly are we looking for?” Bess asked.
    â€œSome change in the design or engineering—or both,” Nancy explained. “If we can figure out what’s been changed, then we might be able to tell who’s been working on it. That illperson would have the best chance to copy the changes and pass them on to Aviane.”
    â€œWell, from what I saw of these plans,” Bess commented, “it’s going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
    â€œMaybe,” Nancy agreed with a smile. “But at least now we’ve got the haystack.”
    The farther they got from Jetstream, the more Nancy relaxed. Going in there had been very risky. If Jetstream discovered that the blueprints had been tampered with, Nancy knew there was going to be big trouble. She just hoped they’d find some answers soon. If they did, the risk would have paid off.
    Sitting next to Nancy in the front seat, Bess yawned loudly. “I don’t know why I’m so sleepy,” she said. “I guess breaking into Jetstream is enough to wear anybody out.”
    â€œSpeaking of getting worn out,” George commented, “look—they’re still rehearsing at the institute.”
    Slowing the car down, Nancy glanced over at the dance institute. Bright lights could be seen in the windows of one of the rehearsal rooms.
    â€œThat seems kind of cruel,” Bess remarked. “The performance is tomorrow night, and Yves told me they’d be rehearsing during the day tomorrow, too. If they don’t get some rest, they’ll sleepwalk their way through the performance.”
    â€œIt looks like only a few people are stillthere,” Nancy said, slowing the car down even more. “I wonder who.”
    â€œUh-oh,” Bess said. “I have the feeling we’re going to make a quick stop, right, Nan?”
    â€œRight.” Passing the institute’s parking lot, Nancy pulled the car to the side of the road right at the end of the property. Probably it was just a few dancers, working on a routine, she thought. But what if Dmitri was there? What if he was meeting his Jetstream connection? The institute would be the perfect place for that, she suddenly realized.
    â€œDon’t worry, I’ll be back in a minute,” she said to the others as she got out of the car. “I just want to take a look.”
    Trotting swiftly across the grass, Nancy reached the main door of the institute. It was unlocked, and she pushed it open, then quietly eased it shut behind her.
    Standing in the dimly lit lobby, Nancy could hear the sound of voices coming from the rehearsal room down the hall to the left. There was no music, and she didn’t hear any sounds of bodies leaping or moving. She knew the dancers could just be discussing a routine.
    Moving on tiptoe, Nancy left the carpeted lobby and turned down the hall toward the rehearsal room. It was the only one with lights on; all the other rooms were dark.
    One person was speaking now—a man—and his voice became louder as Nancy got closer. Halfway down the hall, she stopped, herheart pounding. The voice was speaking in Russian, and it was the voice of Dmitri Kolchak.
    Swallowing hard, Nancy moved forward again. The door to the rehearsal room was halfway open, and light spilled out into the hallway. Nancy crept up behind the door and peered through the crack.
    Dmitri was still talking, but she couldn’t see him. The only person she could see was Marina. The dancer wasn’t in her rehearsal clothes; she was wearing jeans and a pink cotton pullover, and her hair was a mass of tangles, as if she’d just gotten out of bed.
    Just then, Dmitri crossed Nancy’s line of vision. She didn’t get a good look at his face, but he sounded angry, and before he