The Magician's Secret (Nancy Drew Diaries #8)(6)

“An illusion demands that the audience participate fully,” Lonestar said as he did a little sleight of hand. It was similar to when he’d made the roses appear, but this time a bright-red silk square fluttered from his palm.

He raised the silk. The material fully covered the hoop, blocking the audience’s view of the building beyond.

And that was it. We couldn’t see the courthouse.

Without another word, he lowered the scarf.

The courthouse was gone.

The crowd went wild.

Drake looked at me and smiled. “Nancy?” he asked. “Do you see the courthouse?”

I shook my head.

“The audience can’t hear you . . . ,” he prodded.

“No,” I said loudly. “It’s gone.”

Drake instructed the assistants to drop the hoop. Even without the frame of perspective, the building was—as far as my eyes could tell—gone.

The buzz of the helicopters that we’d heard when we first arrived grew louder.

“Oh no!” Drake exclaimed as the copters got close enough that we could feel the breeze from their whirling blades. “They’ll hit the building!” He was joking, of course, and laughed as two helicopters flew through the space where the building had stood. If the courthouse had been there, they’d have crashed into it.

I closed my eyes, blinked hard, and reopened them. There was a broad open area where the courthouse used to stand.

The helicopters circled around and soared through the spot again before Lonestar raised the hoop, instructing the audience to look inside as he held up the scarf.

A moment later, he dropped both the cloth and the hoop.

The courthouse was back.

The audience roared with applause. Everyone, including me, stood for an ovation. I flicked my eyes to the crowd and saw Bess and Ned cheering. George was standing at her seat, but she had her hands on her hips. I could see by the scrunched-up look on her face that she was trying desperately to figure out what she’d seen and how it worked.

Drake Lonestar took his bow and, with a puff of smoke, disappeared from the stage. Then he reappeared, laughing. “I forgot something important,” he joked, taking the arms of his two assistants. “I can’t leave these ladies behind!” An instant later the three of them were gone.

I was left standing alone on the stage. I looked for Hugo to come and walk me back to my seat, but he was over to the side, talking to the chief of the River Heights police force.

The show was over. There’d be no more illusion or fanfare. I even had to walk myself off the stage to meet my friends and Ned.

“I’m headed back to your dad’s office,” Ned said, kissing my cheek before taking off. “This was fun. But are you sure you can you handle all this?” He looked around, gesturing to the crowd that had gathered around us. There were quite a few people clamoring for my attention, shouting questions about Lonestar and the trick.

“We’ve got her covered,” George said.

I answered whatever questions I could, but the truth was, I’d seen the same as anyone in the audience. There was no great secret I could reveal.

About half an hour later, Bess, George, and I managed to get our phones from the check-in desk and were headed to our cars.

“Whew,” Bess sighed. “Want to go to the mall? There are some shoes that I want both your opinions on.”

“I’m free,” I said.

“Not like I have anything better to do,” George said. “Though I wish I did.” She exhaled heavily. Shopping wasn’t her thing.

I had just opened the car door when two officers rushed toward us.

“Not so fast,” one of them said, putting up a hand. “We have a few questions for you, Ms. Drew.”

“You were seen talking to Drake Lonestar before the show,” the other officer said.

“Yes.” I shrugged. “I was walking around and he approached me.” My sleuthing senses tingled. “What’s going on?”

“You’re our key witness,” the first officer said. “An important box of evidence was being held in a basement storage locker of the courthouse.”

“When the courthouse disappeared, so did the box,” the other officer continued. “It’s gone.”





CHAPTER FOUR





Gone Missing


LATER THAT AFTERNOON MY FATHER’S wish was finally granted. He was inside the courthouse.

But then again, so were most of the River Heights police force, prosecutor Ted Walton, Hugo, Lonestar’s two assistants, the judge’s clerk, George, Bess, Ned, and me. We all stood together, crammed inside the small storage locker where the Smallwood case evidence was stored.

Ted Walton held a clipboard and was flipping through the attached pages. “Where was the courthouse security guard?” he asked a tall, thin police officer whose name tag read COLLINS.

“There was no guard on duty, since the building is officially closed today,” Officer Collins replied. “It’s highly unusual that anything is stolen from the storage lockers.” He punctuated that by adding, “It’s never happened before.”

The stunned clerk said, “All employees were outside watching the show the entire time.” She sighed. “Wait until Judge Nguyen hears what happened,” she moaned. “I don’t want to be the one to tell her.”