Gold Medal Murder (Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys)

Gold Medal Murder (Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys)

When a world-famous Olympic swimmer is sabotaged during the Summer Games, Nancy Drew, her friends, and the Hardy brothers have their work cut out for them after they decide to investigate the scandal. Can they find out who wants the swimming superstar to sink, or are they in water over their heads? Franklin W. Dixon is the author of the ever-popular Hardy Boys books. Carolyn Keene is the author of the ever-popular Nancy Drew books. CHAPTER 1 EN GRADE! NANCY The school gym was quiet and empty. The late afternoon sunlight drifted in through the windows high overhead. I stood still in a sunbeam, waiting. I was breathing hard. I held my sword defensively in front of me. I’m in trouble , I thought. Big trouble . Suddenly, my opponent rushed at me out of the dark! I blocked a vicious swipe at my head and stepped back to avoid a lunge at my torso. I was able to keep from getting hit, but just barely, and I was rapidly being pushed back across the gym. My opponent was breathing strong and steady, almost as though she hadn’t even worked up a sweat. On the other hand, my ragged breathing and the clang of sword-on-sword echoed through the cavernous empty gym. School was long over. There was no one around. My attacker forced me backward, step by step. Soon I would be pinned against the wall of the gymnasium. It was time to try something daring. I leaned forward, making an easy target of my head. She’d be stupid to pass up this opportunity. Sure enough, I heard the whip of her blade swinging through the air, on a collision course with my face. At the last possible second, I ducked low and scooted forward, lunging at her unprotected stomach. For a moment, I thought I had her. But she was impossibly fast. Her sword was down and parrying mine before I’d even gotten close to her. We strained against each other, our swords connected at the hilt. I grunted, pushing with all my might. Then my opponent twisted her wrist too fast for my eyes to follow, and my sword went flying through the air. A half second later, I felt the point of her blade at my neck. “Yield!” she said. Applause drifted in from the open gymnasium door, where the figures of George Fayne and Bess Marvin—my two best friends—had appeared. “Well done, Lexi!” Bess yelled. I grabbed my throat and made thick choking noises. I fell to the ground, shuddered a few times, and then lay still, pretending to be dead. My opponent lowered her blade and executed a short bow. “You’re as good an actor as you are a fencer, Nance!” yelled George. Lexi Adams, my opponent, classmate, and one of the world’s best female fencers, removed her mask. Her curly red hair tumbled free, wildly framing her heart-shaped face. “Hey now,” she said. “She’s getting a lot better.” She reached a hand down to help me up. It was hard to feel bad about losing to Lexi. She wasn’t just the star of the River Heights High Fencing Team—she was the youngest woman on the American Olympic Fencing Team. She was a world record holder at the age of nine. I’d been getting lessons from her all year. I didn’t think I’d be joining her on the Olympic team anytime soon, but you never knew what sort of skill would come in handy when working on a case. Plus, it was a pretty good workout. “That was great!” Bess came running over. With her love of fashion—and her model-gorgeous good looks—Bess was the last girl you’d expect to find hanging out in the school gym. But she and her cousin George were both avid exercisers, although George preferred hiking outside to being in the gym. But they could agree on one thing: rock climbing. Which is where the pair had just been before wandering in at the end of our fencing match. I could tell by the chalk dust on their hands and the special climbing shoes they both carried. River Heights High had an indoor climbing wall, and they both made good use of it. Of course, Bess worked out while wearing a matching pink headband, wristbands, and sweat socks, which coordinated perfectly with her lemon yellow terry cloth short-shorts. She looked like a model from one of those chic athletic-wear catalogs. George, on the other hand, was favoring her usual many-pocketed cargo shorts. I never knew what kind of gadgets she had on her, but they often came in handy when I was working on a case. George’s tech savvy was unparalleled. “So are you nervous about the Olympics?” George asked Lexi. “The LA blogosphere is really blowing up about it.” From one of her pockets, George pulled out her cell phone. In terms of abilities, it was somewhere between a supercomputer and a video editing studio. It made me feel like I was still tapping out Morse code. “Look!” she said. “Someone posted your River City High yearbook photo today!” “What?” said Lexi. “Ugh. My hair was terrible in that photo.” “The price of stardom,” said Bess. “Besides, you always look cute, you know it.” “Even though I’ve never been to LA, I’m excited the Olympics are happening there this year,” said Lexi. “Mak