The Magician's Secret (Nancy Drew Diaries #8)(5)

The video was entertaining. It showed clips from Lonestar’s other tricks around the globe. He’d made more buildings disappear than just the ones I’d told Ned about. There was a bank in Zurich, a hotel in South Africa, and even a large tower in Hong Kong. The video did also, in fact, show him throwing a dart at a US map and picking River Heights. And it showed a three-dimensional model of our courthouse building.

When the screen disappeared with a flash of light, Lonestar was no longer airborne. Now he stood on the stage flanked by two stunning models in miniskirts and the Lonestar T-shirts we’d seen earlier.

Bess leaned past George and whispered, “I have that same skirt at home. It’s the newest from Gritty Grand, the Australian designer. She’s a rising superstar.”

George pointed at a camera and crew that were now standing at the back of the audience. “Can’t hurt to have your clothes on display at a popular show,” she said. “Great exposure.”

I nodded, feeling slightly disappointed that I hadn’t noticed the recording crew. Of course the show was being taped, just like all of Drake’s other illusions. We could probably revisit the whole performance on the Internet later this week.

“My friends!” Drake Lonestar raised his hands, and as he did, the back of the stage slowly disappeared into the ground so that the courthouse behind it was clearly visible to the audience. The historic building had been built about two hundred years earlier, with wide cement stairs ascending to carved oak doors. Beautiful stained-glass windows dotted the front, and ferocious stone gargoyles guarded the entry. A tower at the top overlooked the grassy stage area.

All the civic work of River Heights took place inside that building, from criminal trials to council meetings to government document processing. A branch of the police department and some jail holding cells were there too. During the week the place was busy, but on weekends it was closed to the public.

Unless you convince a clerk to call a judge and let you in, I thought, remembering Ned and my father.

I shook my head and focused on the show. Drake Lonestar’s assistants raised a large circular object that looked like a Hula-Hoop. The perspective of the hoop made us all focus on the courthouse, which from my angle fit neatly inside its round-edged boundaries. I reasoned that he’d worked out the seating so that the courthouse was framed inside the circle from every chair.

“In a moment,” Drake announced in a big, booming voice, “the building you see in front of you will cease to exist.” The audience applauded. He paused. “For the skeptics among you, I offer this.”

With a finger snap, a barrel appeared on the stage in front of him. It was one of those thin wire mesh tumblers that lottery numbers or bingo letters are picked from. Inside were slips of paper.

He took the side handle and rotated the barrel.

“One lucky member of the audience will join me onstage.” He laughed. “The best view in the house.”

Drake spun the barrel a few more times, then pulled out a slip of paper. With another finger snap, the tumbler disappeared into smoke. He looked at the number. Then he looked at me.

“The lucky person for today’s show is . . .” There was no drumroll. Only silence. “Row five. Seat B.”

“Hey! That’s your seat, Nancy.” Bess put her arm around me and gave me a big hug. “Congratulations!”

I didn’t move. There was something funny going on. Out of everyone in the audience, he’d picked my seat. My number. Was it magic? Fate? Or something else?

Then I realized that I wasn’t supposed to be in that particular seat. It was one of the tickets my dad had given me. And I had only sat there because George wanted me to be near Ned. I’d been the one to determine that if he showed up, he’d take the aisle.

“It has to be a coincidence,” I told myself as Hugo arrived to usher me up the steps to the stage.

The magician held out his hand to escort me to a folding chair that he’d placed to the side. Sitting there, I’d have a clear view of the courthouse. I noticed there were small silver pieces of tape that marked where the chair was placed. This stunt had obviously been planned in advance.

I tried to tell myself that there was no way it was planned for me. I was being paranoid. He didn’t know I was coming to the show or which seats I had.

But then again, there was the fact that he knew my name and hinted at my mystery-solving background. Something strange was going on, but what?

“Meet Nancy Drew!” he announced, pulling the chair back and settling me into it as if we were at a fine restaurant.

I sat down, not sure what else I could do.

Drake moved to the center of the stage, where his assistants rejoined him. They held up the Hula-Hoop. From my view, the courthouse filled every inch of the circle.

“The courthouse is closed today,” Lonestar said. “We checked that the doors are locked. We even invited all courthouse employees to attend the performance.” He asked anyone who worked at the courthouse to stand. “Our greatest civil service workers,” he boomed. “The importance of justice can never be understated.”

While Drake told a story about how he had been a troubled kid whose life was changed by magic, I let my eyes turn away to peek out at George and Bess. To my surprise, Ned had arrived.

He was sitting in the seat I’d saved for him. Row 5, seat A. Seeing Ned made me more determined than ever to enjoy the show. Like the rest of the audience, I stared through the hoop at the courthouse building.