The Pink Lemonade Charade Page 4

  “They even had an entire street, believe it or not,” Beth interrupted excitedly. “It was made up to be an exact replica of the old-fashioned main streets that were in small towns back at the turn of the century. There was an apothecary shop, and an old-fashioned candy store, and a milliner’s shop, full of the most outrageous hats you’ve ever seen.... It was like stepping back in time!”

  It was Thursday evening, right after dinner, and the twins had gotten together with their friends in Chris and Holly’s room to talk about all the things they’d seen and done that afternoon. They were all worn out, after having put in a full day of sightseeing around Washington. Even so, they managed to muster up the energy to show off the souvenirs they had acquired and exclaim over the wonders they had encountered while playing tourist.

  “Wow, the American History Museum sounds great,” said Holly. “I wish I had time to see it. But there’s so much I want to see and do here....”

  “You should definitely check it out, Holly. You’ve got time. After all, it’s only Thursday night. We still have all day Friday and Saturday left for sightseeing. That’s two whole days.”

  “Well ...”

  “You should really go, Holly. You’d love it, I promise. Look, if I haven’t managed to talk you into it yet, I’d like to show you a terrific book I got there.” Beth was insistent. “It’s filled with photographs of some of the exhibits they have at the museum. You’re welcome to take a look at it.”

  “Okay. Then I’ll have a better idea of whether or not to add it to my list.”

  “Great. It’s in my room. Come on over, and I’ll show it to you.”

  Once Chris and Susan were alone, Chris remembered the gift that Natasha had given her that afternoon.

  “Hey, speaking of books, you’ll never guess what happened today, Sooz!” She proceeded to tell her sister all about her chance meeting with the Russian ballerina and the beautiful picture book about ballet that her new friend had given her.

  “Wow, that sure was nice of her,” Susan commented. “After all, you two hardly even know each other.”

  “I know. It’s a neat book, too. Wait until you see it.”

  Sitting side by side on the bed that Chris had been using, the twins began leafing through the book, exclaiming over each photograph they came across. Many famous ballets were represented within its pages. The costumes were lovely, the sets were exquisite. And the dancers, of course, were magnificent.

  “Hey, what’s the name of the ballet we’re seeing at the Kennedy Center this Saturday night?” Susan suddenly asked. “Did Natasha ever happen to mention which one they were doing?”

  “As a matter of fact, she did. It’s Coppelia.”

  “Ooh, I love that one. It’s about a young woman in love who pretends to be a doll who’s come to life. Hey, let’s look it up in this book. Wait—here it is.”

  As Susan turned to the page which, according to the book’s index, featured photographs of the ballet that the Russian dancers would be performing in two nights, something caught Chris’s eye. Stuck inside the book on that particular page was a slip of white paper, folded in half.

  “Hey, what’s this?” Puzzled, Chris took it out of the book.

  “Oh, it’s probably just the receipt, from when Natasha bought the book. Didn’t you say she’d bought it for you just today?”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t look at it, then.” Chris grinned, “After all, it was a gift.”

  Chris was about to toss the sheet of paper into the trash can, then reconsidered. She decided that she should at least glance at it, just to make sure it wasn’t something important that Natasha had left in the book by mistake.

  She unfolded the piece of paper, looked at it ... and then immediately, she froze.

  “Susan!” she cried after a few seconds. “Look at this!”

  “What is it, Chris?”

  Susan was actually concerned by the tone of her sister’s voice, and the look on her face. She took the piece of paper away from her and glanced at it. And then she froze, too.

  “I am planning to defect,” the note read. “You must help me!”

  After a long silence, during which the twins just kept staring at the note, Susan finally said, “What are we going to do, Chris?”

  “I don’t know, Sooz.” Chris’s voice was now a whisper. “Do you think it’s a joke?”

  “I don’t think so. This hardly seems like the kind of thing somebody would joke about.”

  “Especially since Natasha and the others are always so closely watched by those two chaperones of theirs. That creepy Mr. Pirov and his sidekick, Mrs. Korsky.” Chris gulped. “She sure was taking a big risk by getting this note to us.”

  Susan and Chris looked at each other.

  “Chris, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “I am if what you’re thinking is that this isn’t a hoax, but that Natasha is serious. Very serious.”

  Susan nodded. “And I’ll tell you something else I’m thinking. You and I may have played our share of pranks in the past, and sometimes we’ve even managed to help some people out. But I think you’ve got to agree with me when I say that this time, we’re dealing with something that’s over our heads.”

  “Way over our heads.” Chris’s heart was pounding as she looked at the note one more time. “As a matter of fact, Sooz, I think the best thing for us to do is just forget all about this. Pretend it never even happened. And no matter what, never, ever mention it to Natasha.”

  And to illustrate how serious she was about what she had just said, Chris folded the note in half once again and ripped it up into a dozen tiny pieces. And then, with great ceremony, she walked over to the bathroom and flushed it down the toilet.

  When she came back into the bedroom, the expression on her face was one of dead seriousness.

  “Let’s make a pact, Sooz. A pact that says we’ll never mention this to anybody, okay? Not to Holly, not to Beth . . . ”

  “Not even to each other. Like you said before, we’ll never talk about it again, period.” Susan shuddered. “After all, we wouldn’t want anything to happen to Natasha!”

  Just then, Holly and Beth burst into the room.

  “I’m definitely going to the Museum of American History,” Holly cried. “The book that Beth bought there convinced me that I simply shouldn’t miss it. It sounds fantastic. First thing tomorrow, the minute they open up the doors. Want to come along, Chris?”

  Now that Beth and Holly were back, Chris and Susan could no longer talk about Natasha’s haunting note. Instead, for the rest of the evening, the girls chattered away, all about their plans for the next few days’ sightseeing.

  Even so, neither Chris nor Susan could forget it.

  That night, after they’d gone to bed, both of the twins lay awake for a long time, Chris in the hotel room she was sharing with Holly, Susan in the room she and Beth were in. They were both unable to sleep, too wrapped up in thinking about Natasha and her plight to relax.

  Susan was troubled, but relieved that she and her sister had agreed that this was one situation that was way out of their league. The pact the two of them made was definitely a good idea, she was sure. Sure, she could imagine how Natasha was feeling, but helping a Russian ballerina defect was just a bit too much, even for this prank-playing team!

  Chris, on the other hand, was also thinking about the pact she and Susan had made—a pact that had been her idea in the first place. But now that she had a chance to think about it, her reaction was a little bit different from her twin sister’s.

  Gee, I feel bad for Natasha, she was thinking. She must really want to leave Russia, to come live here in America, if she’s willing to take a risk like trying to defect! Not to mention how hard it must be to leave behind everything that’s familiar to her, forever and ever....

  Finally, Chris did manage to fall asleep. But not before she began to wonder if maybe—maybe—there might be some way, however small, that she and Susan could put their heads together and
help.

  Chapter Five

  Georgetown, the section of Washington, D.C., that was surrounded by the buildings of Georgetown University, was a haven for shoppers. True, its quaint brownstones, red brick sidewalks, and tree-lined streets made the area the perfect place for a leisurely stroll on a pleasant spring morning. But it was the endless supply of shops— clothing boutiques, bookstores, cafes, French and Italian restaurants, and just about everything else imaginable— that lured Susan and Beth to this picturesque neighborhood the very first thing on Friday morning.

  “I’m glad we decided to start out early,” commented Beth as the two girls rode up the escalator, out of the sleek, modern underground rapid-transit-system station. “Stopping for breakfast in Georgetown, instead of having eaten back at the hotel, will be much more interesting. And then we can get down to some serious shopping right away!”

  “Maybe we can even find an outdoor cafe,” Susan said hopefully, “Wouldn’t it be fun to sit outside and watch all the people go by while we have breakfast?”

  It wasn’t long before the girls happened upon the perfect place. They had a relaxed breakfast at a charming outdoor cafe, meanwhile watching all the people who passed by: university students, casual strollers, tourists, businesspeople hurrying off to work. By the time they had finished, they couldn’t wait to start exploring this vibrant district of the city, and, as Beth had put it, do some “serious shopping.”

  “Ooh, look at this shop!” Susan exclaimed before the two of them had wandered very far beyond the caf6. “It has such cute clothes in the window. I love those blouses over there. Let’s go in.”

  Over the next hour, Beth and Susan went inside almost two dozen stores. Beth was looking for a birthday present for her mother, and in one of the boutiques, she found the perfect item: a beautiful hand-painted silk scarf. Susan, on the other hand, didn’t have anything in particular she wanted to buy. She was simply keeping her eyes open for something unusual, something distinctive; something useful that would be a “souvenir,” reminding her of her trip every time she used it.

  She was on the verge of giving up, however, when she and Beth came across still one more clothing store, this one featuring bright, trendy fashions for young people. The windows were filled with pretty spring clothes, and it was almost impossible not to venture inside to get a better look at the shop’s merchandise.

  “We’ll just take a peek,” Susan insisted. “We’ve been scouring the stores all morning, and I’m just about ready to move on. Besides, don’t forget that I’m meeting Chris for lunch at the National Gallery of Art at one o’clock. But I think we can take a quick look around.”

  “Relax. We’ve still got plenty of time,” Beth assured her after glancing at her watch. “Hey, this is a great store. Maybe you’ll find whatever it is you’ve been looking for in here.”

  Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Susan came across a rack of cotton T-shirt dresses in pretty colors. The dresses were soft, comfortable, practical; just the thing to wear to school, or even to a place that called for a more dressed-up outfit.

  “Look at these,” Susan called to Beth, who was browsing through a rack of sundresses, in anticipation of the summer ahead. “Aren’t they cute?”

  “Oh, yes!” Beth came over immediately. “They come in such nice colors! I like the blue, and this purple.... But this pink one is my favorite.”

  “They’re the color of pink lemonade!” Susan commented with a chuckle. She couldn’t help thinking of the conversation between Natasha and Chris that her twin had related to her on Wednesday evening, when they’d first arrived at Washington’s airport. “It’s the perfect shade for spring. Come on, let’s try them on. What size do you need?”

  Both Beth and Susan fell in love with the dresses as soon as they slipped them on in the store’s dressing room and stepped in front of a mirror. They were simple, cut just like short-sleeved T-shirts; only they looked as if they had kept on growing at the hem.

  “I’m going to get one,” Beth declared, turning around in front of the mirror so she could check out the back. “How about you?”

  “I’m going to get two.”

  “Two?”

  “That’s right,” said Susan. “One for me, and one for Chris. We don’t usually have the same taste in clothes, but I have a feeling she’s going to be crazy about this dress. And I know she loves pink.”

  “I can already picture how she’ll look in it, too,” Beth joked. “Funny, but I’m having no trouble imagining Chris in that dress.”

  Susan laughed. “Just one of the bonuses of shopping for an identical twin sister. But don’t forget that while I’ll probably wear this dress with a simple string of white beads, Chris will no doubt wear hers with a purple belt, yellow shoes, and turquoise blue earrings!”

  After the girls had left the dressing room, they were so enthusiastic about the dresses they had found that they decided to take one more quick look around the store, just in case there was something else on the racks that they had missed. Beth headed toward the back, a section filled with spring jackets and raincoats. Susan, meanwhile, went up to the front, for a more thorough look at the sportswear that was on display.

  It was while she was going through a rack of sweatshirts that she suddenly began to get the funny feeling that she was being watched. At first, she just ignored it, figuring that either she was just imagining it or else that a salesperson, or perhaps another shopper, was standing behind her. But the creepy feeling didn’t go away.

  Finally, she whirled around. And even though she had been half expecting to find herself face to face with someone, she jumped.

  The person who had been watching her was a man in a dark suit, wearing a very serious expression and looking straight at Susan.

  “So, Christine Pratt, we meet again,” the man said. He had a very thick accent, one that Susan knew right away was Russian.

  Her first impulse was to correct him, to tell him that she wasn’t Christine at all. But part of her was still too startled to say anything. And another part of her had a feeling that the best thing to do was just go along with it—at least, for now.

  “H-hello,” she said quietly.

  “I am glad that I happened to run into you like this today,” the man said.

  Susan’s mouth dropped open. She sincerely doubted that a meeting between Christine Pratt, the brand-new American friend of the Russian ballerina Natasha, and the ballet troupe’s stern chaperone was merely a coincidence! Especially since that meeting was taking place in a young women’s clothing boutique! But she said nothing.

  “There is something I would like to tell you, now that you and I are having this unexpected opportunity to chat together.”

  “Yes?” Susan said sweetly. “What would you like to tell me?”

  Very calmly, the man said, “If you know what is best for everybody, Christine, you will keep away from Natasha.”

  Susan just stared at him and kept listening.

  “I have been noticing that you two keep running into each other by accident.” With a funny smile, he added, “Very much like the way I just ‘happened’ to run into you today.”

  Susan gulped.

  “This mixing together in such a manner is not something that we approve of.”

  Suddenly Susan stopped being frightened of this man. Instead she felt a surge of anger rise up from deep inside her.

  “Wait a minute. One of the reasons the kids from my school came to Washington was to ‘mix’ with the members of the ballet troupe! And now you’re telling me to keep away, that you don’t approve—”

  The man held up his hand, as if to stop her from going on.

  “Ah, you misunderstand me, Christine.” His voice was now softer, and more kind, but the tone underlying what he was saying had not changed at all. “Of course we are here so Russian young people are able to meet American young people. We are always anxious to encourage good international relations. However, Miss Pratt, you know as well as I do that this cultura
l exchange program that has been planned for us all is not what I am referring to.”

  “Oh, really? Then what exactly are you referring to, may I ask?”

  Even as she feigned innocence, Susan was thinking about the note she and Chris had found in Natasha’s book, just the night before. She looked around, hoping that Beth might be wandering over in her direction and would soon interrupt this conversation, which was making her more and more uncomfortable with each passing minute. But unfortunately her friend was nowhere nearby,

  “You know, Miss Pratt,” the man went on, leaning forward slightly and lowering his voice, “we already know all about you.”

  “‘We?’“ Susan blinked.

  But the man didn’t bother to explain. He simply stared at her coldly.

  “You are Christine Elizabeth Pratt, and you live with your parents in Whittington,” he said smugly. “You attend Whittington High School, where you are a senior.”

  Susan thought about what he had just said, and then looked him in the eye. “Hey, wait a minute. Sure you know all that about me. but you haven’t told me a single fact that wouldn’t be obvious to just about anyone. After all, your dancers are here as part of that cultural exchange program with the Whittington High School students, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a list my school had given you that had every one of those facts on it.”

  “Ah, you are a very clever girl. But then again, we. have suspected that for quite some time already. You want more proof, do you? You need further indication that we have easy access to much information about you, Christine Pratt? All right, then.

  “You have a sister named Susan. You are cheerleader at your school, and also you are on your school’s swimming team. You have many friends, and great interest in the rock music. Last summer, you worked as counselor at camp called Camp Pinewood....”

  Susan’s mouth dropped open. So this man wasn’t bluffing, after all! He did have access to all kinds of information about her. Not only that; he had gone ahead and researched her background! It was a frightening thought.

  But then, all of a sudden, she realized that this man may have been pretending to know everything there was to know about her ... yet he had left out one very important fact.