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The crunch at the front of the lobby was frightening.
    Following the last of the crowd out into the street, Nancy noticed one man strolling outside not far ahead of her. Amid all the panic and fear, his step seemed almost casual. It was Vic Molina! “It’s the fifth bomb scare in two years,” he was telling the man next to him. “Probably some jerk trying to get attention.”
    Just then the police arrived. Six or seven cruisers, sirens blazing, cordoned off thestreet, and two vans marked Bomb Squad pulled up in front of the building, along with an unmarked police car. Five uniformed officers surrounded a short, heavyset man with a walkie-talkie who emerged from this last car. He wore a white button-down shirt that was too small for his expanded belly and a stained navy tie.
    â€œEvacuation is in progress,” he said into the device as he strode into the lobby, with his escort clearing the way. “Disposal and I are proceeding to hot spot. Over.”
    The police had already put up barriers just off the edge of the sidewalk. In front of one barrier, separating her from the anxious crowd and gathering onlookers, was Marcy. She was talking to a silver-haired couple who appeared to be in their fifties. As Nancy edged closer she could hear their conversation.
    â€œYou were threatened before this morning?” the woman was saying in a shocked tone. “Why didn’t you tell Jeff and me immediately? We’re your producers, Marcy!”
    From what they said, Nancy guessed that the couple were Janet and Jeff Stern, of Stern Productions, the people Marcy most wanted to hide the threats from.
    â€œI’m sorry, Janet. All I can say is that I didn’t want to put the show in jeopardy,” Marcy said.
    â€œMarcy,” Jeff Stern said firmly, his voice rising as he spoke. “A lot of people have a lot of money invested in you and this show, and Janet and I are responsible to them. We have to think about things like lawsuits, security, insurance! Do you realize that if anyone could prove we had reason to anticipate this threat, we could be liable if the Media Center were blown up?”
    By then Nancy reached Marcy’s side.
    â€œHi, Nancy,” Marcy said weakly as the Sterns turned their attention to the building.
    George made her way up to them, too. “Brenda’s amazing,” she said. “She really knows how to deal with people.”
    â€œHas anyone seen Susan?” Nancy asked.
    â€œI’m here,” came Susan’s voice from behind them. She was with the officer in the civilian clothes. “There’s Marcy, Lieutenant,” she told him, leading him over to their little group. “Marcy, this is Detective Lieutenant Dunne. He wants to speak with you.”
    â€œThat’s right, Ms. Robbins,” said the lieutenant, extending his stubby hand.
    Marcy shook it and said, “These are my producers, Janet and Jeff Stern, and these are friends of Susan’s, Nancy Drew and George Fayne.”
    â€œNancy Drew, the detective?” the lieutenant asked, raising his eyebrows.
    â€œYes,” Nancy admitted.
    â€œI’ve read about some of your cases,” the lieutenant said. “You’re pretty good for a kid.” Turning to Marcy, he asked, “How’d you get hooked up with Nancy Drew?”
    â€œSusan suggested I send for her,” Marcy explained. “She’s been helping me out with a little problem I’ve been having.” Looking around, she asked the lieutenant, “Can we go where it’s a little more private?”
    Just then two uniformed officers came out of the building, one of them carrying a box, which he brought over to the lieutenant. “Lieutenant Dunne, sir,” said the man with the box, “look what we found backstage. It’s a phony. One of those party store jobs.” Using a handkerchief, he pulled out a round plastic toy bomb with a thick rope sticking out the top and