The SMOG Barber

by betzo

Someone at the school is playing havoc and no one knows who or why.

THE SMOG BARBER

Lori was hurrying. It was almost ten and if she didn't reach her dorm she would be locked out. Which meant a trip to the Dean's office to be allowed late entry. And a demerit for being late. Not good. At this point she had an unblemished school record and she wanted it, desperately wanted it, to remain that way.

Lori, passing under one of the street lights paused to glance at her watch. It was ten minutes to ten. She relaxed. Yes she was cutting it short but there was ample time now that she could see the entrance to her dorm in the distance.

Confident now she slowed her pace.

There were heavy hedges lining the walkway Lori was on but the girl was unafraid since crime had never been an issue on this well regarded campus.

That was Lori's mistake.

As she passed the hedges they seemed to open up and the girl was grabbed from behind and pulled off the walkway into the area behind the hedges. A wet, sweet smelling cloth was placed firmly over her mouth and nose. It's fumes quickly penetrated her senses.

Chloroform!

Lori fought against her attacker trying to free herself from the grip she was in. The arm around her waist was strong as was the fumes of the cloth pressed over her face. She felt herself growing weaker and weaker. Her head was spinning and it became blacker and blacker.

Lori's attacker felt the girl going limp. First the clawing hand became less frantic, then the strength in the girls legs slackened until the girl's form was totally nerveless. The attacker knew the girl was now completely unconscious but the cloth remained in place. Just to be sure.

After lowing Lori to the ground the attacker flipped the cloth to one side. From a pocket a small barbers shear was removed.

Sister Marian of God, known, and not always affectionately, as 'SMOG' to her students, is a girls, college preparatory school. It sits between the lush hills in a valley of green grass, old growth trees and wild honeysuckles. It is fourteen miles from the nearest town of Westwood which supplies most of it's worldly needs such as food, delivered promptly the third and eighteenth day of each than those days there is very little contact the students had with the outside world. As intended. The founders wanted no outside distractions to hamper the girls educations after all it was a pricey high school and the administrators wanted to please the parents and show them that their daughters were indeed getting their moneys worth.

The girls of SMOG were required to wear uniforms, white pleated skirts, white blouses under a powder blue vest, grey, white and blue stripped ties, dark blue blazers, white socks (knees socks were optional) and black, well polished patent leather shoes. Yes, the kind that reflect up.

The skirt requirement originally was that the hem had to reach the knees. To ensure this the school issued, for a price, slips that were long enough and would show if the skirt was too short. A fashion no no in this fashion conscious crowd. The school was founded in 1961 when the outside teen world was caught up in the mini skirt era. Soon full slips were replaced by half slips and the first thing a new student did was hem up her skirt so it reached only mid thigh. The administration protested and promised punishment. This signaled the "slip up war". The slips were merely pulled up higher above the girls waist so the lace of the slips hem wasn't revealed below the skirt.

Knowing when they were beaten the administration soon ignored the regulation of the 'knee length skirt'. Which explains the now popular mid thigh skirt length. Even the frumpy Miss Wilson, one of the last holdouts, stopped scolding the students for violating 'the code'.

One has to realize that all the staff and maintenance workers were all female with the glaring exception of Morris and Vernon who maintained the air handling equipment, fixed the plumbing and mowed the grounds. Now Morris, who the students claimed to at least a hundred, paid not an ounce of attention to anyone but the task at hand. He was totally oblivious to all the young women around him.

Vernon, on the other hand, wasn't as disciplined. Not by a long shot. On windy days, and there were a lot of them since the surrounding hills funneled gale force winds through the valley SMOG was set in. Vernon made it a point that he be out mowing as the students went from building to building between classes on those windy days. Carrying books and keeping the wind from playing havoc with your skirt were impossible tasks. Only one could be accomplished successfully.

Vernon did not succeed with much neatly done mowing on those days.

SMOG's record of sending it's graduating students on to college was unblemished and because of that it's reputation, and the tuition, was always on the rise. To counter the perception that it was a school only affordable for the rich, the administration pointed out, repeatedly, that it gave out free scholarships to ten deserving students each year so there were forty students from the-not-so-well off mingling in the student's current population of 573.

Lori St. Clair, daughter of Senator Johnston St. Clair, was not, needless to say, one of those forty. She was a freshmen who had a driving sense of self importance and an academic over achiever. Both of these qualities made her unpopular with her fellow students.

And many contributed that to what happened to her.

The bearer of the news was Joanie Burke, a junior student who also worked in the administration office. Courtney Lawson, her good friend Dusty Rhodes and Beanie Clark were eating lunch together when an excited Joanie joined their little group.

Joanie, her brown eyes filled with excitement, pulled up a chair and sat down. "Do I have news."

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The excitement in her voice got the trio's attention. They leaned forward to hear Joanie who had lowered her voice so only those at the table could hear.

"I just heard it. Ms. Donahoe and Ms. Tremblay were talking about it. They were in Donahoe's office but they hadn't closed the door tight enough so I could hear the whole discussion."

Donahoe was the principal while Tremblay was Dean of Students.

"They were talking about Lori St. Clair."

Beanie made a face that showed she didn't much care for that particular girl. "Oh her. What a complete snob."

"Well, I don't think you have to worry about her any more," Joanie went on. "From what I could tell she's left SMOG. Yesterday morning."

"No loss," Beanie said.

"But why?" Courtney knew that there was more to the story and Joanie was anxious to tell it."

"Because two nights ago she was attacked on the way back to her dorm."

Everyone spoke in one unified gasp. "That's awful!"

Joanie held up her hands as if to ward off a blow. "It's not at all as bad as THAT! It's not that what your thinking about. Except it's stranger. Maybe even scarier."

"Spill it out," Dusty ordered. Dusty was not noted for her patience.

"OK, OK. I was able to read her statement to the police so I'll just sum it up. She was going back to her dorm trying to beat the curfew when she was dragged into the bushes from behind and knocked out with chloroform. Whoever knocked her out tied and gagged her. It was almost morning before she came to with Miss Logan, the science teacher, kneeling by her. Miss Logan has always gone out jogging just before dawn and it was she found Lori lying on the ground."

"Is Miss Logan the culprit?" Dusty asked.

"No. She's clear I guess. Lori's attack happened just before ten the night before and she was at a meeting with the teachers in her department about curriculum changes in the Science Department at that time. She had an alibi. Anyway here's the clunker. Lori was as bald as a cue ball. Every hair on her head was sheared off."

Courtney, Dusty and Beanie all raised their own hands to the tops of their own heads as if they wanted to reaffirm that theirs was still in place.

Beanie was the first to speak. Her own black hair was a pile of curls on top of her head. A distinction Beanie was secretly proud of. "Bizzaro," she finally said.

"Super bizzaro," Courtney added. "So they don't know who shaved Lori's head?"

"Not a clue. So far. The police have investigated and every thing is hush hush. I guess the powers to be don't want to alarm the students." Joanie said.

"Sounds to me like it was done by someone that didn't like Lori very much." Dusty leaned back in her chair.

"Look, I know Lori. Just about anyone who has dealt with her didn't like her." Beanie informed the others. "Ever since she came here she's made nothing but enemies. She's really very smart but ...obnoxiously so."

"Dusty? The police think the same as you." Joanie continued. "That it was a vicious prank done by someone that had it in for Lori. Their trying to keep it low keyed so as not to stir up the campus but...but she is the daughter of a U.S. Senator and that senator is very, very unhappy about it. From the sounds of it he wants to know what happened. I heard Ms. Donahoe on the phone with him. She was very apologetic but she did say, over the phone, that his daughter wasn't very popular and that it was all probably just a bad prank. Of course she said it diplomatically but she was stressing that point."

"That's going pretty far for playing 'just a prank'. Plus chloroform, if you breathe in too much, can be fatal. On the other hand it is easy to get around here. the biology lab is loaded with it." Courtney should know, that was her favorite course. She planned to study it when she went on to college.

"Quite frankly," Courtney went on. "I'd rather be conked over the head if it came to that. Getting knocked out. I can't stand the odor of the stuff. Plus it does make you sick."

Dusty winked at Beanie. "I'll have to remember that, Courtney. Particularly when you leave the light on after hours when you study." Courtney and Dusty were roommates and had been since freshman year.

Courtney stuck her tongue out defiantly at her roomies then turned back to Joanie. "So Lori St. Clair is no longer enrolled here?"

"Guess not. The last anyone saw of her she was being driven off, a towel over her head, by the senator's chauffeur."

As far as the rest of the students at SMOG were concerned Lori St. Clair's departure was more welcomed because none really heard of the mysterious circumstances surrounding it.

That is until ...

Dusty Rhodes was not only drop dead pretty she was also the star of both the volleyball he two sports rather than her exceptional looks or, for that matter, her academic achievements, that allowed her to attend SMOG. She was the only child of a single, financially struggling mother. The tuition at SMOG was way beyond Audrey Rhodes', Dusty's mother, limited finances.

Dusty got in the only way a child of a financially strapped family could to an expensive institution. She received an athletic scholarship. SMOG did recruit athletes. Successful sports teams increased the schools visibility, as the administration always said. Dusty was all-state in volleyball and a high school all-american in field hockey. Though only pedestrian as far as academics were concerned Dusty was highly respected by her fellow students.

It was after volleyball practice that the second 'incident' occurred.

The girls on the team had showered, dressed and were making their individual ways out of the locker room. Courtney, a setter on the team, and Dusty gathered their gym bags and came around the last row of lockers.

And there sat Melissa Sparks, another team member, on the long bench that ran in front of those lockers. The girls had been chatting softly when they spied Melissa in a not unfamiliar position. She was already dressed and sitting cross legged, indian style on the bench. Her hands were planted firmly on her knees and her eyes were closed.

Both Courtney and Dusty stopped their chatting. Melissa, a free spirited girl was meditating, a practice she often did after volleyball to "get in touch with her inner self". Melissa's long, dark brown hair, still damp from her shower, fell across her shoulders and down to the small of her back.

Courtney and Dusty smiled at each other but said nothing not wanting to disturb Melissa's trance like state. Both liked the girl immensely since Melissa was a gentle, unassuming girl who respected everyone she came into contact with. She had the unique ability to make everyone feel special. It was a special gift the senior girl had.

Dusty and Courtney moved as silently as possible past the girl until Courtney, in an impish moment, paused, set down her bag and maneuvered up to Melissa. She took Melissa's face into her hands and kissed the meditating girl on the forehead.

"Bless you child," Courtney whispered in her best "just out of the convent voice" before rejoining Dusty. The two then left Melissa alone in the locker room. Melissa never moved a muscle through it all except when she heard the locker room door closed behind the girls, a little smile stirred on her lips.

Now totally alone, Melissa continued her silent meditating unaware of the figure closing in behind her.

Until the soaked cloth came across her face.

At first she put up a struggle but the fumes were overpowering causing her head, and consciousness to reel. Melissa was pulled over into grip of her assailant and with blurred vision she had the briefest glimpse of the ski masked face pressing the cloth.

Then Melissa became a still, inert form.

Once the attacker saw Melissa was totally out the rest was easier. No, it was a struggle to get Melissa over the shoulder but once that was accomplished what followed was simple.

Melissa was carried over to door that led to the gymnasium, across the tile floor to the office at the other end. The door to the office was solid so no one could see in and disturb as Melissa's captor swept the desk inside the office clean with one swoop of the arm. Melissa was lowered, with great care onto the desk and held in a sitting position briefly. Then she was lowered onto her back, legs still dangling over the edge of the desk.

After adjusting Melissa's skirt for modesty's sake, the masked assailant tossed the chloroformed soaked cloth onto the chair by the desk.

Four long silk scarves were produced. First one was tied securely around the unconscious girl's ankle. The other end was then tied to the leg of the desk. With a second scarf the procedure was repeated to the other leg. Once that was done each of Melissa's wrists were secured, over her head, to opposite legs on the far side of the desk.

"There," a voice that could only be heard by the speaker said. "Knocking you out isn't the only fun we're going to have." Then the attacker produced a shear and began shaving off the long, dark hair of the unconscious girl.

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* * * * * *

A half an hour later Rosa, the woman that cleaned the locker room and gym, was busy carrying the towels to the laundry room which was up behind the gymnasium. As she passed the office of Paula Vetter she saw the door was closed.

How odd, she thought. Miss Vetter, the volleyball coach and P.E. teacher, was always in her office at this time and never closed the door. Rosa placed the bundle of towels she was carting onto the floor and slowly opened the door to the office.

Then she screamed.

That brought the other janitor, Tessie running to Rosa's side.

"Go get help," Tessie ordered as she went immediately over to the form sprawled across the desk. She was relieved to see the girl was just unconscious but...bound. That alone was scary. Plus...plus her head was shaved clean. Piles of hair lie in the floor beside the desk.

Tessi gathered herself and began untying the young girl. By the time she had finished others stormed into the office. Ms. Donahoe was there as was the school nurse. Also Rosa standing back still trembling.

"Is she alright?" Ms. Donahoe asked as the nurse checked the unconscious girl.

"Out cold," was all the nurse said.

Ms. Donahoe moved back. It was obvious this was a second victim of...of who? Lori St. Clair was not to be an isolated case after all. This was bad.

"Where Miss Vetter?" Rosa spoke in broken English. "She here always."

Ms. Donahoe saw the closet door in the corner was partially open. She went over to it and cautiously opened it. Her heart stopped.

On the floor, unmoving, was the volleyball coach still in her tennis shorts and gray St. Marian tee shirt. The principal knelt down beside the still form. Unlike the girl Ms. Donahoe recognized as Melissa Sharp, the coach still had all her hair. But like Melissa she too was completely unconscious. There was a white cloth lying beside her. The principal picked it up and smelled it.

Chloroform. "Ugh."

This was not going to be easy to cover up. Paula Vetter was a strong willed young woman and no fan of the Principal either. She was leaving SMOG at the end of the year and it wasn't a happy parting. It would take some doing to keep her quiet about this all. And who could blame her. Paula had obviously been attacked, knocked out, as had Melissa.

The Principal's mind swirled. Don't panic, she told herself. There's always a way out. This is bad for St. Marian. SMOG's reputation, it's future must be protected at all costs. The question was how?

"There's a mat out on the gym floor," Ms. Donahoe heard a voice say by her shoulder. "Let's carry her out there where there's fresh air."

It was Tessi, a strong sturdy middle aged woman. Ms. Donahoe, herself middle aged but handsome, even beautiful, and in extremely good condition from frequent workouts, agreed.

Paula Vetter was slender with short auburn hair. Not an ounce of fat on her but the problem was that she was over six foot tall. Six foot of inert, unconscious woman would be heavy. With Rosa's also helping Paula was soon on the mat and already stirring.

"You help her, Tessi. I'm going back to the student and see how she's doing." Ms. Donahoe returned to the office and found Melissa was now sitting up groggily with the nurse at her side.

"Can she walk?"

The nurse shrugged. "In a few minutes."

"When she can take her to your office. I'll be there shortly. I'll have to call the police. If this is another prank..." Ms. Donahoe's voice tailed off.

She made the call to the police and merely told them that a squad was needed so please, please no sirens. She went out to await the squad that would be coming. When the police woman arrived she was led to Paula who was fully conscious by then. Paula was combing her hair and seemingly unperturbed.

"I suppose, Irene, you'd like to know what happened?" The coach asked the Principal before placing the comb back in her purse and fixing her with a steady gaze.

"If you're up to it." Irene Donahoe replied as the police woman took out her pad and pencil.

"Not much to tell. I was at my desk after practice. As you can see that meant my back was to the door. Someone came in without me hearing them. Never did see them. Knocked me out with chloroform. That's about it."

Paula smiled slightly. "The old campus is getting rough."

You don't know the half of it, Irene said to herself. Only a few members of the staff were aware of the St. Clair girl's situation, Paula was not one of them. That had been kept quietly under wraps...so far. "I'm glad your alright, Paula."

The police woman then began her questioning of Paula while Irene stood off to one side. Unfortunately Paula wasn't able to add anything more of value. Irene asked Tessi to show the officer where Melissa Sparks had been taken. When they had left, the Principal turned back to Paula.

Paula's head was cocked to one side. "What's this? Melissa? She's involved in this?"

"No, not that way. She was chloroformed too. She's going to be alright. Paula? I have to ask you a favor. For the sake of Saint Marian I'd like you to keep this quiet until we can see if we can find out what this is all about. I know you and I don't always see eye to eye..."

"That's an understatement," Paula snapped.

Irene tried to keep her voice level. "This isn't about us. It's about Saint Marian. You'll be leaving here after this semester but your future is still tied, in a way to us here at SMOG."

"Really? How's that?"

"Any where you go you'll need a good recommendation, now won't you? From us here?"

Paula understood immediately. "And that won't be coming if I don't keep quiet about the attack on me?"

This time Irene Donahoe's attempt to keep the latest attack quiet failed. True, Irene's will prevailed in that she convinced Melissa's parents to withdraw their student from school, for a few weeks. Until she didn't have to endure the embarrassment of being bald. She could keep up her school work over the computer as the classwork would be sent to her.

Melissa was opposed to this but her parents, the mother a former SMOG student herself, did what Irene described "as best for SMOG and her daughter". Melissa's room mate returned from class the day after the attack to find Melissa's things cleared out. It was explained that a family emergency had developed and Melissa had had to leave.

Still, a rumor began to circulate among the student body that there had been a strange attack on Melissa and also on Ms. Vetter. Who started it and where it started no one knew but it spread like wild fire and became common knowledge.

Many thought it just a rumor and laughed it off a fable. Who, they asked, would be so ridiculous as to shave a girl's hair off? And why? Kinky.

When Dusty, Courtney and Beanie heard they knew it wasn't just rumor, they knew it was the truth.

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Dusty and Courtney discussed the rumor that night in their room. "Ya know I asked Ms. Vetter about it before practice," Dusty told Courtney.

"And?"

"And she said it was silly. Nothing had happened to either her or Melissa."

"Well maybe nothing happened to her but I'll bet a small fortune that something happened to Melissa. And that's why she's not in school. I saw Joanie and asked her if anything was going on. Had she heard anything? Hadn't but she said everyone is hush hush in the office and something is up."

"She didn't say what?"

"She didn't know. It's just that everyone seems to be acting strange. Secretive. And she said that she saw a memo on Ms. Donahoe's desk. It was scrawed in the Principal's hand writing that 'the police found in their search of the closet a blue ribbon tied in a bow.'

On the memo pad beside Ms. Donahoe writing was the handwriting of Dean Tremblay. She had noted, 'now isn't that interesting'.

Courtney repeated the phrase aloud. It struck something in the back of her mind but she didn't know what it had struck. It was like a song whose title you couldn't recall.

Courtney had been sitting at her desk while Dusty was undressing for bed. There was little clock on top of the desk and Courtney saw the late hour.

Deciding it was too late for more studying she too changed into her bed clothes. "See you in the morn, Dust."

Dusty pulled the covers over her as Courtney flipped out the light.

It was a little after midnight when Dusty awoke and headed out of the room to use the restrooms which were located in the center of the dorm. After she padded off in her bare feet Courtney heard Dusty leave when she closed the door. She didn't give it a second thought. Dusty's journey was a nightly happening so Courtney lay her head back and started to drift off. No sooner than Dusty seemed to have left when the door to the room opened again.

Courtney thought at first that not enough time had gone by for Dusty to have visited the washroom and to be coming back already. Courtney decided she must have fallen asleep for a moment but she did speak to the darken room. "That was fast."

She received no answer. Then she sensed someone was standing beside the bed. She turned over and started to sit up. The room, though dark, allowed enough moonlight filtering through the drawn window curtains that she was able to make out a figure beside her bed.

"Dusty? What..." That was as far as she got. A solid blow to her chin knocked her completely out.

Dusty knew nothing of this. She returned, half awake to the room and stepped inside unaware of the person waiting behind the door. She took two steps into the room when a well aimed chop caught her across the back of the neck.

"Ugh!"

Dusty saw a brief flash of light then darkness, full and total.

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Courtney felt herself return as if from a long, tiresome journey. Reluctantly return since she preferred the comfort of the cool, black world she was in. With her arms she snuggled the pillow her head was lying on.

"Ouch!" When Courtney adjusted her head on the pillow it pushed against her face. A sharp pain emitted from her jaw. That brought her back to full consciousness...and realization.

SOMEONE HAD PUNCHED HER OUT!

Courtney bolted up in bed and swung her feet to the floor. Her feet brushed against a solid, warm lump. Their was a reading lamp mounted on the headboard of Courtney's bed and she reached back and flipped the toggle switch. With the light on she saw the lump on the floor was her good friend and room mate Dusty.

Breathless, Courtney fell to the floor beside Dusty's prone form and lifted the girl into her arms. Two things flashed through Courtney's mind. Dusty was breathing, thank heavens, and Dusty was completely bald.

Courtney carefully eased Dusty back onto the floor and was out of the room. She ran down the hall to where the RA's room was located and banged on the door over and over.

* * * * *

When Dusty came to she found she was lying with her head in Courtney's lap. She could also feel the light squeeze as her friend held her hand. She also found the room filled with students and the RA, Noreen. Pushing her way through the crowd of people was the school principal, Ms. Donahoe who looked almost desperate.

Dusty raised her brown eyes up to meet Courtney's. Then she said almost matter-of-factly. "I'm bald I bet."

Courtney smiled down reassuringly. "But as beautiful as ever."

"Yeah, sure." Dusty forced herself from Courtney's grasp and sat up just as Ms. Donahoe was ordering everyone out of the room.

Courtney was quite angry and she shot a look of disgust in the Principal's direction. Ms. Donahoe, it was clear, had been covering the earlier attacks up and what had been gained? Now both herself and Dusty had paid the price. Courtney wasn't about to let the matter go any further. She had decided that she herself would delve into just what was going on whether Ms. Donahoe or the entire administration cared or not.

As Ms. Donahoe and the RA were ushering the room empty Courtney snapped in a commanding voice. "Beanie stays!"

When Beanie pushed her way back into the room no one tried to stop her. Ms. Donahoe was dumb foundered by Courtney's authoritative behavior. The girl would have to be put in her place as soon as possible.

But for Irene Donahoe it got even beyond having to deal with an impertinent girl. Dusty Rhodes was not a girl that would allow herself to be sent packing by the school Principal.

"I'm not going any where. It's the middle of volleyball season." Courtney announced with finality. And that was that.

"But sweety. Won't you be embarrassed?"

Beanie found a place beside Courtney on the bed so as better to watch the goings on. Not being athletic herself Beanie had always been an admirer of Dusty, as well as a good friend. Though the attacks on her two friends had unnerved her at first the spunkiness made everything seem better.

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After being interviewed by the police, the girls, Courtney, Dusty and Beanie, were finally alone. It was too late to go back to sleep, if that were even possible, and too early for classes.

"OK guys," Courtney said as she sat cross legged on her bed. Dusty and Beanie sat across on the edge of Dusty's bed. "Here's the plan. We're going to do some investigating ourselves. Doesn't look like the police or school are up to it."

"Seems they are more interested in the SMOG's reputation then finding out who the...the...bad person is." Beanie said.

Dusty rubbed the top of her head. "You mean who cut my hair? Who the barber is?"

Courtney almost laughed. She would have if not for the seriousness of the situation. "We're going to find out who knocked Dusty and me out and who this SMOG Barber is."

"And," Beanie added, "why only Dusty got the haircut. You would have thought that both of you would have been scalped."

"It's so strange, isn't it? I have to admit I'm glad I was spared," Courtney winked at Dusty. "But I do kind of think old Dust looks kinda cute now. Even sexy."

"Enough jokes," Dusty wasn't in the mood to be flattered. She wanted to get down to the business of finding out who was behind all of this. "Do you think Jordon's bunch is behind all this?"

Jordon McCaully was a senior who, in her junior year, had started a club, The Blue Ribbons she named them. It was more just a social group then but it had evolved into a tight knit, secretive group who were not above playing nasty tricks on fellow students they didn't much like. The administration had cracked down on them so Jordon had disbanded The Blue Ribbons, or so the Ads thought. Actually she had shrank the group and had gone 'underground'.

Beanie, a hugely popular girl because of her free spirit ways, was friendly with several of the girls in the Blue Ribbons. "I think I'll see if I can learn anything. Remember that memo Joanie saw on Ms. Donahoe's desk? It mentioned finding a blue ribbon tied in a bow."

"Good," agreed Courtney. "Dusty, your the closest to Ms. Vetter. Why don't you question her again and see if you can find out what happen to Melissa. The real story."

"I'm on it."

"I'll find Joanie. She has access to the Administration Office. I just might do a little snooping over there. They sure have kept a lid on everything." Courtney's juices were up. She always wanted to be a real life Nancy Drew. Now she had a case to crack just like ND. Plus, like Nancy, she had already been Christened by being knocked out cold by a villain.

By the end of the days classes Dusty had become the center of her fellow students attention. Be sure no one was fool enough to make fun of her because Dusty had remarkable ability to intimidate with an icy glare. There was no one that wanted that kind of attention. Besides, Dusty's status as a gifted athlete made her immune to criticism. also she had acquired a powder blue skull cap and her 'condition' was masked considerably by the cap.

Dusty, after geometry, her last class of the day, was making her way across campus with Courtney. It was a particularly windy day and Vernon had already been distracted enough to have inattentively mowed the roses in front of the girls dorm, scrapped the mower blade when he ran into the street curb and had bounced into the wall of the gymnasium, not once but twice.

Dusty and Courtney ignored the whipping wind as they walked their skirts flipping and swaying as they headed toward the gym and volleyball practice. They also ignored Vernon as he rammed into the side of the gym for a third time.

"I'm going to go over to the Ad Building, Dusty. Joanie should be at her desk by now. I have a little favor to ask of her. Tell Ms. Vetter I'll be late for practice, would ya?"

"Will do. What kind of favor?"

Courtney smiled sneakily. "I want to see if she can get me a key to the Ad building. I think I want to make a little after hours visit tonight. It's Friday and the Administration Building should be vacant early."

Dusty stopped dead in her tracks causing Courtney to run into her. The collision caused their pleated skirts, as short as they were, to jump up. Vernon, who had regained control of his rider mower, lost it again and almost plunged it down the stairwell that led to the gym's lower level.

"I want to go too," Dusty announced. "It sounds exciting sneaking around like that."

"I told Beanie already. She wants to come too but, really, it's a one girl job. Too many of us might draw attention. By the way, are you going to talk to Ms. Vetter?"

"Yam. I'm going up to her office before I change."

"Good girl." Courtney split away from Dusty and headed to the Administration Building.

; ;

Ms. Vetter was in her office, behind her desk, when Dusty knocked softly on the open door.

Miss V, as her team called her, looked up. "Dusty? Come on in."

Dusty sat in the chair that was beside the desk and placed her books in her lap.

"What's on your mind girl?" Miss V asked as she studied the star of her team. Then after a slight pause, and in a carefully measured voice, "I heard about your... misfortune."

Dusty tried to decide how to go about approaching the subject. She wasn't exactly the most verbally skilled girl around. Or tactful. Everyone knew that. So did her volleyball coach know so Dusty made the obvious decision, directness. Powdered with a few...fibs. "And I heard about yours."

"Whatever could you mean? Mine?"

"It's all over school Miss V. Melissa's attack and," Dusty watched carefully for her coach's reaction. "the attack on you. Everyone knows it wasn't just Melissa who was knocked out. Everyone knows the Barber got you too. As you know the Barber got me and Courtney last night. Miss V., you've always been open with me. And I with you. I'm really upset that you're hiding, keeping it all a secret while I have to deal with it while everyone looks sideways at me and my skull cap."

Miss V. gave a huge, resigned sigh. Then she rose from her chair and moved over to Dusty. Without saying a word she bent and gave Dusty an affectionate hug.

Then Miss V. returned to her chair to nervously finger the papers on her desk. "OK Dusty. You're correct. You have every right to hear the truth. But you must promise to tell no one or...or my career will be in shambles."

*******************************

At the same time as Dusty was listening to Miss V. Beanie was in the lounge of her dorm. Across from her sat Naomi Bell, a girl Beanie had befriended, gone to grade school with and who was now a fellow SMOG student. Naomi was as dark haired as Beanie but her hung straight down across her shoulders. Beanie's was a pile of bristle wire on top of her head.

With them, plopped aloofly in a separate chair, was Jordon McCaully. Jordan was blue eyed, a girl with short blond hair brush swept to one side and without question very pretty. She had been runner up to Courtney for homecoming queen even though she had a personality that made you either for her or against her. There never seemed to be a middle ground feeling when it came to Jordan. She was both popular and unpopular at the same time. One thing all agreed on, you didn't want HER standing against you.

Beanie was making small talk with Naomi while Jordan's attention seemed to be somewhere else. Of course it wasn't and Beanie knew that when she brought up the subject of the previous night.

"You heard my friends ran into the Barber last night?"

"Yeah. Hard not to have heard. It's the talk of the school." Naomi said.

"Saw Dusty in the hallway between class. Doesn't look worse for wear." Jordan had decided to join the conversation. "And Courtney. Still Miss Bouncy I hear."

"Courtney's a trouper, Jordan. She's made up her mind that she's going to find out who this Barber is. If I were the Barber," Beanie let the remark hang in the air for a short moment, "I'd be very worried."

"Now would you?"

"Would. You and your friends should be concerned too. Seems a blue ribbon tied into a bow was found in the closet. The closet Miss Vetter was dragged in after being chloroformed unconscious."

Jordan's only reaction at first was to raise one eyebrow. "I hadn't heard about Miss V. Is this some kind of a joke? And a blue ribbon? Really?"

"Really," Beanie went on. "Your group has been known to be active in the past. You wouldn't go as far as to start assaulting fellow students now would they?"

Jordan sat forward adjusting her white, pleated skirt. "I'll be the first to admit we did some childish things in the past. I wasn't exactly the nicest person in the world at one time. But I've personally apologized to everyone I ... hurt. In some cases I've even made amends. As far as I know everyone has forgiven me and now the Blue Ribbons are a social club."

"Then they still exist?"

"As a group of friends." Jordan said. "Not a gang."

Beanie glanced at Naomi who nodded in agreement.

"Look Beanie, I'm upset by what you told me. That a ribbon was found and that it might be thought of as a clue as to who is behind the attacks here at SMOG. I don't want the Blue Ribbons to be suspected this way. I've worked hard to restore our reputation and, quite honestly, this is very disturbing. I assure you we, me, have nothing to do with what is going on." Jordan's features turned grim. "I want you to take a message to Courtney for me. I want you to ask her if I, and the Blue Ribbons, can help? Please ask her that."

; ;

Joanie had no qualms about helping Courtney gain access to the Administration Building even though it could get her into serious trouble. She herself had wanted to have a search of Ms. Donahoe's office but the principal almost never left her office choosing to conduct school business either over the phone, or in personal office visits. She was always the first to arrive in the morning and the last to leave. Access to her office was virtually impossible.

"This is so exciting," she said handing Courtney a plastic key card. "I have one of these these in my desk to be given to anyone on staff that needs to come in on weekends. No one requested it so it's safe to give it to you. But gotta have it back before Monday morning. Promise?"

Courtney took the card and stuffed it quietly into her handbag. "Promise."

"This will open the side door entrance, the one closest to the parking lot."

Courtney thanked Joanie then left for volleyball practice.

As the team was warming up Courtney and Dusty exchanged a hurried conversation.

"Did you find out anything from Ms. V?"

"Got all the dope. She admitted she and Melissa were overpowered. The Barber must have conked Melissa out right after we saw her down in the locker room. Then he sneaked up and chloroformed her too."

"Whoa! He?"

Dusty shrugged. "That's what she thinks. Most women, much less a girl, wouldn't have been strong enough to have subdued her long enough to have the chloroform put her under. She's pretty sure it was a guy."

That was probably true, Courtney reasoned. Ms. V. was strong and athletic. She would not have been easy to put down. The karate chop that had knocked out Dusty wouldn't have necessarily have had to be delivered by a guy, would it? A woman was quite capable of that if she were trained. And knocking me out with one punch? There are women boxers, and, Courtney thought ruefully, maybe I'm just easy to knock out. More than once she had had her bell rung in field hockey. Also a guy on campus, other than Morris and Vernon, would have drawn someones attention. Other than a few delivery drivers men were seldom seen on campus.

Courtney made a mental note to check on delivery schedules. The attacks on Melissa and Ms. V had occurred after volleyball practice which was too late in the day for deliveries but she'd check anyways.

-

That evening in the dorm Courtney called a conference for her and her friends, Dusty and Beanie. Despite there protests Courtney announced that she would sneak into the Administration Building alone. "Three of us might draw too much attention. I need you guys to stay her. I'll go after hours. You'll need to help me climb back in through the window."

That night Courtney dressed for her 'role' as a burglar donning black everything,slacks, matching turtleneck sweater, tennis shoes, socks. stocking cap and even undies.

Just before midnight she crawled out through the dorm window flashlight and key card in hand. SMOG was deemed the safest place on earth so the outside lighting was minimal. Courtney stayed close to shrubs and when she had to she sprinted across open spaces. She reached the side entrance of the Ad Building undetected and was inside without incidence.

Still, her heart was thumping once inside. Not from fear but from the excitement of being on an adventure.

Yep. she thought, I'm cut out to be a girl detective.

The floors of the Ad Building were marble so even the fact that she was wearing tennies it was impossible to walk without the sounds of her shoes squeaking in the dark silence. She felt her way along the walls not daring to turn on her flashlight. She didn't want to chance someone (who would be out this late?) accidentally seeing the light from outside. Courtney found the center staircase and went up to the second floor where the main office was located.

The door was unlocked but after entering, Courtney found that Ms. Donahoe had, indeed, locked hers.

Courtney had read enough Nancy Drew books to known how to trigger entry with the stiffness of her card key. She slipped it between the door and the jam and "presto", she was inside Ms. Donahoe's office.

First thing Courtney did was feel her way across to the window and pull the heavy drapes closed. Now she could use her flashlight in safety.

Using the light Courtney searched the top of the Principal's desk. An orderly woman, Ms. Donahoe's desk was void of any papers. Inside the desk drawer Courtney found it lacking of anything of interest. No clues, she sighed closing the drawer after a brief scan. The young sleuth shone the light in a wide circle. A table, some cabinets, a door to a closet and another to the private bathroom.

It was only by chance that Courtney's eye caught the tip of a folder as it peeked ever so slightly from under the cushion of Ms. Donahoe's desk chair. Lifting the cushion Courtney saw a plain brown legal envelope. She picked it up and placed it on the desk and sat down in the Principal's chair flashlight in hand..

; ;

What Courtney saw was a memo written in long hand by Ms. Donahoe. It was written to herself.

-" It's worse than ever. The parents of four girls have pulled them from school.
I have calls from a dozen others requesting a meeting.

Rumors are all over the school. It's too late to dampen them.

Reporter from the Gazette called. Wants an interview. Claims an anonymous
caller tipped him about attacks here at SMOG. Is there a cover up? I pressed
him about caller. Says it was a female. Put him off till Monday.

Board of Trustees wants emergency meeting. Oh God!

Police have no idea who, what or why.

Paula asked...no demanded letter of recommendation. Now!

Contractor for paving said it's more extensive than first thought. more $$$.-"

As Courtney read she was distracted by a muffled sound. Footsteps out in the hall? Quickly she flipped off the flashlight and listened.

In the dark silence she heard nothing. She was about to switch the flashlight on once more when a barely audible squeak reached her ears. Listening more carefully she again heard nothing.

Her heart was thumping in her ears this time from fear. Her hands were trembling now as she placed the memo back into the envelope and slid it back under the cushion.

There's no one there, Courtney told herself. Trouble was she didn't believe the little voice in her head. Now what? She couldn't turn on her flashlight, Too risky. So she took a deep breath and, holding one hand in front of her so as not to collide with anything, she steered, as best she could back toward the window, and the drapes that covered them.

Quietly, she drew them back. Enough light penetrated the room so that she could, barely, make out the door across the room. She gripped the flashlight tight in her hand. It wasn't much of a weapon but it was sturdy enough to give her some confidence that she could defend herself if attacked.

"Quit thinking that way," Courtney whispered to herself. "Just carefully cross the room, go out into the outer office and then back out to the call. calmly go over to the staircase, down the stairs and go out the way you came in."

Once in the hall she stopped and listened again. Did she hear breathing? Was someone there hiding, breathing in anticipation? Ready to launch at her?

Well there was only one way to find out. Courtney started to launch herself at a dead run toward the door she had come in earlier when a sixth sense stopped her. Instead she backed into the deeper shadows of a doorway...and holding her breath, she listened.

Footsteps. And they were coming from the direction of the staircase she had just came down.

Courtney pressed against the wall. Soon a figure eased slowly passed her along the hall. It was too dark to see clearly but the vague outline was tall. Taller than Courtney at least but it impossible to distinguish anything else.

The figure moved away and disappeared into the darkness. moments later Courtney heard the sound of a door open, then close. Silence except for the pounding of Courtney's heart.

Finally, after perhaps five minutes, Courtney gathered enough courage to step out and move toward her door of escape. Whoever had been with her in the building was now gone. Thankfully.

The young sleuth reached the door and stepped out into the night. but she was no longer alone. A hand covered her mouth and she was pulled in to the hedges that bordered the entry.

Shhhhhhhhh," a voice whispered in Courtney's ear. "Don't be scared. I'm a friend."

Released, Courtney turned to face the person that had held her. "Oh God. Jordan. You scared the dejeesies out of me."

"Well I'm not exactly Miss Courageous myself." Jordan said. "I was worried about you. In there all that time."

Jordon was dressed, but not at all like Courtney, in dark clothes. After school hours a student was allowed to wear whatever she saw fit, 'within reason' as it was explained in the SMOG introduction brochure. Jordan was wearing a short, short blue denim skirt and a checkered, sleeveless 'cowboy' blouse opened at the collar. Opened was an understatement since much of her bra was revealed way past 'within reason'.

Jordan, as if first noticing this, closed the gap with a grip of her hand. "Damn. I was fond of this blouse."

Courtney was still recovering from her frightened state and just looked at Jordan in confused bewilderment, speechless.

"Followed you," Jordan explained hurriedly. "Saw you pop out of the window. My room faces yours. Remember? I just knew you were going snooping. After all that's happened around here I thought you just might need some back-up. So...ta da. Followed you. My mistake. Saw you go into the Ad Building. The door locked behind you or I would have...
Anyway I never made it regardless. I was grabbed from behind and there was a fight. And I lost. She knocked me out."

"Huh?" Was all Courtney could say. Jordan did look like she had a bout with a grizzly bear, and with all that was happening there was no doubting her. "She? Then you saw who attacked you?"

"Not really. I mean I saw she had on night gear, like you. Dark clothes and a ski mask over her head."

"Are you sure it was a she?" Courtney remembered Dusty telling her that Miss V. was certain a man had knocked her out.

"You bet," Jordan continued. "Look, before she put me out we struggled long enough. Got a free feel you might say. It was a woman alright." Jordan rubbed her chin. "Packed a wallop I tell you."

Courtney looked around. The campus was quiet. Most of the faculty had left for the weekend as was usual. And since the word of the Barber had circulated many of the students had left also. "Let's get out of here. Dusty and Beanie are waiting for me. If the Barber is who attacked you he, she I mean, could still be around."

It seemed an eternity before they were once again in the safety of the dorm room. Not that the dorm had proved that safe the other night but there were four girls now and they shared the security of numbers.

Courtney, Dusty and Beanie escorted Jordan to her dorm room. "We'll talk in the morning," Courtney told Jordan. "There's a volleyball game tomorrow night so maybe I'll come by and look you up early."

"No problem. Be around all day."

Next Beanie was followed to her room before the now exhausted Courtney and Dusty reached their room. "We're going to be too tired for the game if we don't get some sleep," Dusty said. "And I've got to go into town with Coach V in the morning. They're doing a photo shoot for all-state players and I guess I'm one of them. Goodnight Court."

Courtney, still excited from her adventure, had trouble, at first, falling asleep but after much tossing she drifted off. It seemed like she had only just nodded off when the sound of clickity clacking of heals forced her from her slumber. Her room was light and it was well into the morning she discovered after opening her eyes.

Sitting up she saw the sound she had heard came from her roomie as Dusty paced from her closet to the mirror hung on the back of the door. Dusty was already dressed...and dressed she was. She was wearing a simple black dress with a V neck top and flowing, but short hemline. She looked quite...mature with white pearl earnings and a matching necklace. Her make-up was minimal, a touch of ruse, a bit of mascara, eyeliner, and soft pink lipstick.

Naturally tall anyway Dusty loomed over Courtney in her black, 4" stilettos and shaded hose. "Wow!" That was all Courtney could say.

"Like it? I borrowed the dress from Alexis, the high heels too. You know I don't have this kind of stuff hanging in my closet. She helped me do my make-up. The hose is mine but, oh thanks for the black bra."

Courtney giggled. "Glad I could help. You look so grown up Dusty."

"Thanks bud. But I wish," Dusty ran a hand over the top of her smooth skull, "I could do something with this. It detracts from my elegance."

"You'll be fine," Courtney assured her. "Bald is the rage in ...in..."

"Tibet." Dusty finished for her. "It'll have to do. Tell you the truth I kinda like it."

Dusty walked over and took her skull cap off her desk and plopped it on her head. Courtney watched in had never,ever seen Dusty in heels so she knew it wasn't often she wore them. Regardless, Dusty seemed quite comfortable in them, nor did she seem to have difficulty maneuvering and they did marvelous things for her legs.

"When do you have to go for the photos?"

"NO! Don't go," came the voice from the door. There stood Nancy Drew and peeking out from behind her was Beanie. It was Nancy who had spoken. She walked into our room, her flower printed dress swaying at the hem.

Courtney and Dusty looked at each other. "But why?" The two spoke in confused unison.

Beanie, sheepishly, stepped in front of Nancy. "I called Nancy and told her what was happening here at SMOG. I told her everything and she agreed to come here and," Beanie turned to the teen detective, "and see if she could solve this SMOG Barber thing."

"And I have. I only wish all my cases were as easy." Nancy smiled at Courtney and Dusty.

"You solved our...mystery? But ...how," Courtney stammered.

"Beanie told me every detail. Everything and she, I must admit, has a gift for detail. It was clear who the culprit is and, Dusty, you'll be in danger if you go with your coach for those photos."

"But...but...why?" Courtney responded still as confused as before.

"Because," Nancy went on, "The SMOG Barber is Paula Vetter."

"OUR COACH!"

"None other. Now let me explain." Nancy paused as she reviewed what she knew in her mind. Courtney and Dusty could almost hear the 'wheels' turning in Nancy Drew's brain. "First of all motive, Paula Vetter came in first there. She wanted to discredit SMOG because she hated Irene Donahoe so much, not necessarily the school itself. Opportunity? She had access or was present at every incidence. She was strong, all agreed to that fact. Chloroforming someone does take strength, even a teen girls like Lori and Melissa. Plus, as Courtney and Jordon learned, a knockout punch is quite effective, and instant if delivered with power, power which Paula Vetter obviously had."

"I'll say," remarked Courtney remembering how she was knocked out.

"But wasn't she chloroformed?" Beanie was the first to bring up that fact. "Was she faking?"

"No, she wasn't faking. And that's the part that puzzled me the most. I mean being chloroformed can be fatal if you're subjected to it too long. It was probably on Vetter's mind when she chloroformed herself. When she knocked herself out it had to be real so when she was found she was truly unconscious. So the cloth soaked in chloroform had to fall away from her face when she passed out so she wasn't passed out forever. After thinking about it I came up with the way she probably did it, chloroformed herself."

Nancy took out a cloth from her purse, went over to the nearest wall. she placed the cloth against the wall and pressed her face against. After a few seconds she let herself crumble to the floor. As she did the cloth fell away to one side.

Soon she was back on her feet. "That's how she did it. I think the police will find the wall in that closet with chloroform residue when they test it for chemicals. And Paula Vetter would suggest it was a man, that way she would not only have an alibi but suspicion pointing in the wrong direction, away from her."

As it turned out everything Nancy Drew surmised proved to be correct.

SMOG's student body, and staff, were now firm fans and believers that Nancy Drew was the world's smartest and best girl detective.

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