Daughters of river heights float arrives 2 страница

Without any hesitation, Bess replied, “Deirdre Shannon, her boyfriend Josh, and Mara Stanfield. In that order, too. They each stopped by separately, but Ned never once left the booth. He didn’t even let them in the booth.”

Chief and Mr. Steele approached Ned and asked him to step back inside the ticket booth. I ran to the door and pressed my ear to it again. I was so nervous that the chief wouldn’t do a thorough job and would simply put the blame on Ned. He was a volunteer, after all. Why would he have taken the money? Inside, they asked Ned to open his book bag and empty his pockets. Moments later, the door swung open and Ned came running out, a giant smile on his face.

“They don’t think I stole the money anymore,” he said.

I turned to Bess and George, both equally as excited that Ned was off the hook, but a little scared-looking, like they knew I was about to enlist their help in solving another crime.

“We have three suspects now, gang. Deirdre, who has always had a crush on Ned. Josh, who could be jealous of Deirdre’s crush on Ned. And Mara, who doesn’t really seem to have a motive at all,” I said.

“What do you want us to do, Nancy?” George asked.

“George, I want you to shadow Josh. Follow his every move. See if he starts spending a lot of money. Anyone who steals three hundred and fifty dollars is either going to spend it right away or try and hide it until they think no one is watching before they retrieve it. And Bess,” I said.

“You want me to keep an eye on Mara,” she said before I even had a chance.

“Something weird is going on here, and I think she might know something.”

“What are you going to do, Nancy?” Ned asked.

“I have to go to work. Don’t you see how I’m all dressed up?”

“Fancy Nancy,” George, Bess, and Ned all said at the same time, before erupting into laughter.

“Okay, which one of you started this name?”

They all either looked at their shoes or over my shoulder, like they saw someone they might know. Regardless, no one answered my question. I wasn’t totally surprised by their silence.

“Well, I’m going to work and see what I can find out from Deirdre. I’m late for the fro-yo stand,” I said, looking at my watch. “Actually, really late for the fro-yo stand.”

ANOTHER BLUE NOTE

“You couldn’t be any later if you tried,” Deirdre Shannon said, snapping a bubble with her gum. “We can run this fro-yo stand without you, you know? Your presence is not necessary.”

All four girls stood behind the stand, not particularly happy to see me — Heather, Lexi, Aly, and Deirdre.

Heather Harris was still angry about getting busted yesterday for writing the hatethesegirls.com website and seemed equally sheepish around the other girls. She didn’t look me in the eyes and kept distancing herself from me. Frankly, I was surprised she’d shown up at all. If I were her, I’m not sure I would be able to come back to the fro-yo stand.

Lexi Claremont, I thought, was annoyed that I’d shown up today, since the website mystery was already solved. She had only invited me to help out so that I could get closer to her friends to uncover the mystery blogger. I hadn’t really wanted to come back, but Dad was right: I’d made the commitment to volunteer at the stand this weekend, and I should stick it out. I needed to be here anyway, to keep an eye on Deirdre Shannon. I couldn’t believe that, after everything, she still had her sights set on Ned.

And then, of course, there was Aly Stanfield, whose mother was Mara Stanfield. I wondered if maybe she knew something.

This was going to be a peculiar day to navigate.

“Did you hear me?” said Deirdre.

“We don’t need you here anymore,” Lexi reiterated. “You did enough yesterday. Speaking of which,” she added, turning to Heather, “I’m honestly surprised you had the nerve to show up today.”

Heather shrugged and looked at her feet.

There were no customers this early in the morning, which only fueled the dis- trust and complicated relationships among all of us.

“If Heather didn’t show up and I didn’t show up and the fro-yo stand got hit by a long line later today, you would wish we were here to help out,” I pointed out.

“I think we’d be okay,” Aly said. “My mom wouldn’t let the fro-yo stand suffer like that.”

“Yeah, your tardiness is unacceptable,” said Lexi.

All I wanted to do was walk away from this silly fro-yo stand right now, but I knew that I had an obligation to Ned and to the River Heights Carnival to find the missing money.

“If you must know why I was late,” I said, “I was talking with Mr. Steele and Chief McGinnis. Someone stole the carnival ticket booth money, and my boyfriend, Ned Nickerson, was a suspect.” I emphasized the word “boyfriend” for Deirdre’s benefit.

The girls looked at one another, shocked, confused, maybe even a little nervous.

“Did they find the money?” Lexi asked.

“Not yet,” I said.

“Does my mom know?” asked Aly.

“Not yet,” I said.

“Does Chief McGinnis have any leads?” Heather asked.

“Three,” I said.

Deirdre was the only girl who didn’t ask a question. I walked behind the stand and stood next to her.

“I arrived this morning and Mr. Steele called the chief to arrest Ned for stealing the money from the cash box. Thankfully, there was an eyewitness who exonerated Ned, so they let him off the hook, but the thief is still out there somewhere.” I pointed to the passing crowds of people, walking by wearing sunglasses and applying sunscreen, standing in line for big pretzels or waiting to ride the Ferris wheel. “It could be anyone, but it’s most likely one of three leads.”

“Who are the three leads?” Heather asked.

“Don’t worry, Heather,” I said. “You’re not one of them.”

“That’s really good news, Fancy Nancy,” Heather said.

All the girls broke out into hearty fits of laughter. This was getting truly ridiculous. The name seemed to be spreading faster than a fire, and there was no end in sight. Someone knew that the name would really bother me, and they were making it their mission to annoy me into insanity!

Heather released a sigh of relief, which I knew she would. But I also refused to let the girls find out that easily who I was considering as the cash box thief. I still wasn’t sure there was any connection between the thief and the person leaving the notes. I just didn’t have enough information yet.

I walked to the cash box of the fro-yo stand and opened the lid slowly, letting the girls watch me, probably wondering what I was doing. All the money seemed to still be there.

“Well, that’s a good sign,” I said. “Glad to see we still have all of our money.”

Deirdre finally snapped and stormed toward me.

“You really think I did it? You really think I would steal the cash box money? Do I need to call my father? You do realize he is the most powerful defense attorney in River Heights. Your father certainly knows that well,” Deirdre said. Our fathers often found themselves facing each other in court on either side of the law. “I have absolutely zero motive to steal the stupid money. Besides, Heather seems the more obvious suspect. She got busted yesterday for that stupid website. Seems to me like she would want to get back at everyone. Maybe even try and frame me.”

“It’s wasn’t me,” Heather said. “I didn’t do it.”

“You did start hatethesegirls.com,” said Lexi.

“Well, you stole my boyfriend,” Heather shot back.

“Deirdre, I never said that any of you were suspects,” I said. “I never even mentioned you as a suspect. But now that you mention it, what were you doing at the ticket booth this morning?”

“I am a pleasant person, Nancy. I say good morning to people. I had just arrived and was carrying a lot of materials for the fro-yo stand and happened to be passing the ticket booth,” Deirdre said.

“And so you said hello to Ned, but you didn’t ask him for help or talk to him at all, other than to say good morning?”

“Do you think I’m some kind of helpless girl who can’t carry cups and cones and napkins for our stand? No, I didn’t ask for his help. I said good morning to him and then asked him if he had seen Josh.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Josh told me he would meet me at my car to help carry the fro-yo stand sup- plies, but he never showed up,” said Deirdre. “So I carried them myself. I never asked Ned to help me. He offered. But I declined.”

“According to Ned and Bess, Josh stopped by the ticket booth too. He was looking for a piece of paper and pen, apparently,” I said. “You must have just passed each other.”

Deirdre looked out into the crowds, like she was looking for an answer. I had seen that look a hundred times before. Confused. Bewildered. I’d started to think that maybe Deirdre and Josh were in on the heist together, but that vacant, lost look on Deirdre’s face told me otherwise. She seemed genuinely confused about the Josh sighting.

“Did you talk to him? Did he say why he was there?” she asked. “Or why he didn’t meet me at my car?”

“Not yet, but that is definitely on my list of things to do today,” I said as our first customer approached the fro-yo stand. “Just like serving fro-yo is on my list of things to do.” I turned to the customer and smiled. “Hi, how are you? Welcome to our fro-yo stand. What can I get for you today?”

The man smiled back and crossed his arms over his chest. It was my father, Carson Drew. “I heard about all the chaos and commotion this morning with Ned and the missing money. I ran over as soon as possible,” he said.

“Can I offer you a special vanilla fro-yo in our commemorative River Heights cup?” I asked, letting my father continue to talk about the Ned situation while I remained out of it. If any of these girls were in on the theft, they would surely get nervous listening to him talk about it.

“Did everything sort itself out?” he asked. “Did they find the money?”

“Or you can have your fro-yo in one of our giant-sized waffle cones,” I said. “Deirdre carried the cones all the way from her car.”

“Nancy, why are you ignoring me? Is everything okay here? Did Mr. Steele recover the money?” he asked.

“Would you like any special daily toppings? Like coconut? Or pecans?” I asked, ignoring him. Just then I noticed Deirdre step back behind the other girls and disappear. The moment I thought Deirdre Shannon could be innocent and scratched off the suspects list, she snuck away. If she had stolen the money, I wondered where she’d hidden it and how she planned on spending it. Better still, why? All these questions kept begging for answers. I couldn’t wait to meet up with Bess and George to find out how their suspects were faring.

“I didn’t want to arouse their suspicions,” I whispered. “They didn’t find the money yet. Mr. Steele wanted Chief McGinnis to arrest Ned for the crime, but we were able to exonerate him. So right now, there are three leading suspects.”

Dad uncrossed his arms and laughed. “You can get in a lot of trouble sometimes, Fancy Nancy,” he said.

The other girls laughed when they heard this name. I was losing my sleuthlike edge over the girls. All my wit and posturing were gone now that they had heard my father call me Fancy Nancy.

“Dad, why is everyone calling me Fancy Nancy today?” I asked. “This is the true mystery. Not who stole the carnival ticket money, but rather who started calling me this silly and very embarrassing name.”

Dad laughed again. “I have no idea,” he said. “I thought we always called you Fancy Nancy.”

“No,” I said, rubbing my eyes, annoyed. “You have never called me that. I think this all has to do with Mrs. Gruen somehow. She’s putting you and Bess and George up to this.”

“I think I will get a fro-yo, after all. Vanilla. In a regular cone, please.”

I walked over to the machine and began to pour the frozen yogurt into an expert spiral. “Toppings?” I asked, but Dad shook his head no. I wrapped the base of the cone in a napkin and handed it to him. It didn’t take long for Mr. Carson Drew, Esquire, to spill a giant glob of fro-yo on his tie.

“Oh jeez,” Dad said. “I’m always spilling on my ties.” He rubbed at the stain with his fingers. “Fancy Nancy, could you hand me another napkin, please?”

Although part of me wanted to let him suffer the humiliation of another stain on his tie for calling me that name again, I had to help him. I looked back to where the napkins had been placed before on the table and could no longer find them.

“Lexi, Aly, Heather, any of you seen the napkins?” I asked.

Lexi and Aly pretended not to hear me as Heather helped me to look. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find them. Just as I was about to walk across the way to the hot dog stand and borrow a stack of their napkins, I saw it — another blue note.

Heather stood back from it like it was a live snake about to bite her. Aly and Lexi both dropped their jaws in shock, but neither wanted to pick it up. Finally, I did.

“What you got there?” Dad asked.

“Another blue note,” I said.

“Another bad note?” Heather asked.

I looked at the words scribbled across the blue paper. “It’s not nice.”

At the hot dog stand, I heard gasps and exclamations. One by one, each of the stands around us found similar blue notes with, I assumed, similar threats written on them. We all had received a warning. Someone was not going to stop until the River Heights Carnival was shut down.

“Well,” Lexi said, “what does the note say?”

I read the note out loud.

Everyone felt the same shiver crawl up their spine.

FOOD COURT QUESTIONS

George and I sat in the food court section of the carnival as I finished retelling the blue note story to her.

“Well, what does the note say?” George said, irritated that I’d ended my fro-yo story on such an enormous cliffhanger. “Nancy, you really can’t end a story like that. Completely unresolved. You are the worst storyteller. EVER!”

I took out the blue note from my purse and handed it to her. It read:

THIS IS ANOTHER WARNING.

LEAVE THE CARNIVAL.

NOW.

OR ELSE.

“And we weren’t the only stand that got this note. A whole bunch of us did,” I said. “They each said the same thing.”

“This has gotten very serious,” said George.

“We really don’t have much time to find out who’s behind the stolen money. I’m guessing they’re also behind the blue notes.”

People walked about, eating all the different kinds of carnival food available. I glanced around, looking for a table where Joshua Andrews and his River Heights Bakery were selling his food, but didn’t see him. In fact, I saw every kind of food except his. I wondered if Mrs. Gruen was on to something about him being mad at Mr. Steele for not letting him set up a table. Could the man responsible for the most delicious banana nut bread in all of River Heights also be responsible for stealing the carnival ticket money and the random blue notes? Not to mention all the earlier sabotage?

“Any leads on Deirdre Shannon?” George asked.

“Not really. She disappeared from the fro-yo stand after a while, but I did have a chance to confront her. Something tells me Deirdre isn’t malicious enough to steal money from the carnival. She might not be my favorite person in the world, but I don’t think she could do it. I think she’s more afraid of being accused of the crimes.”

“Your instincts are normally right,” George said. “If you believe that to be true, then so do I.”

“What about your suspect — Josh, Deirdre’s boyfriend? Find out anything inter- esting on him?” I asked.

George laughed and pointed across several picnic tables.

Josh sat there, hunched over, shoveling food into his mouth. Laid out in front of him was one of every type of carnival food. Corn dog. Hot dog. Pink cotton candy. Oversize salted pretzel. Nachos with jalapeños and cheese. A caramel apple. A paper bag of popcorn. Funnel cake. Italian ice. And a bottle of water.

“My word,” I said. “Look at all the food.”

“I know,” George said. “I think he must be going for a record or something. No one in their right mind would eat every single kind of food at a carnival, right?”

“Do you think he’s spending the ticket money on food?” I asked.

“He’s been sitting here the entire time. He takes a bite of this and a bite of that. It’s like he’s trying to win a bet or something,” said George.

“So he hasn’t been spending any money?” I asked.

“No. That’s the weird thing. He isn’t spending money on anything. People just keep bringing him food. It’s like he’s the official taste tester of the carnival. He hasn’t spent one dime,” George said.

Josh took another bite from the funnel cake and then a bite from his caramel apple, before washing it down with a gulp of water.

“Fancy Nancy, can I see the note again?” George said.

“If you tell me who is behind this ‘Fancy Nancy’ mystery, I will give you the note. Who started it?” I asked.

“I could never reveal my source.” George laughed.

I handed her the note and watched Josh shovel more food into his mouth. George looked at the note close to her face, like she was an old lady who needed reading glasses. She turned the blue paper in her hand, holding it at the edges very gently. She held it out from her, looking at it from a distance, and then brought it close to her eyes again. She looked like she was playing the trombone.

“You know what?” she asked. “I just had the greatest idea.” George looked over her shoulder toward the high school, before looking back to the note. It was clear that she had a thought in her head and she was turning it around, flipping it over, looking at it from all sides. And it was driving me crazy that she wouldn’t spit it out!

“Well… what?” I asked. “You really can’t leave a person on such a huge cliffhanger, George! You are the world’s worst storyteller!”

“My new high-tech NASA-developed Element Disintegration Chemistry Set,” she said.

“And why would that help?”

“Well, see this black smudge?” she asked, pointing to one of the corners of the paper. “My Element Disintegration Chemistry Set (EDCS for short) should be able to tell us what that smudge is and where it came from. Crime scene investigators use this all the time, apparently, to analyze prints and smudges. It helps them to eliminate suspects from their list.”

“Really? George, that’s fantastic! Do you think it will help us find out who is writing the notes?” I asked.

“I’m not sure about that, but it will tell us what these black smudges are at the corners, and that should help us narrow down the list,” she said.

“And that would certainly be another clue in this big crazy puzzle of a mystery,” I said. “George, you go do that now. I’ll keep an eye on Josh.” I couldn’t stop watching Josh, eating all that food, as someone brought him a hamburger. I looked back at George, who was smiling. I had a feeling she was absolutely relieved to leave and not have to watch him eat any more food.

“Excellent idea!” she said, standing. She ran across the food court, disappearing into the side entrance of the high school.

Josh continued to chomp away at the food in front of him without a care in the world. Although my expertise and experience told me he probably had nothing to do with either the notes or the missing money, I still needed to know why he’d borrowed paper and a pen this morning. I needed to know why he’d asked Ned for those items. The only way to truth was with facts. As Chief McGinnis would say, I needed cold, hard facts. I needed the truth.

I walked over to his table and sat down across from him. He struggled to swallow a mouthful of food. I pushed his bottle of water over to him, which he accepted and gulped down. As he finished, he gasped for air.

“Thanks, Fancy Nancy,” he said. “That last bite nearly killed me.” He rubbed his stomach. “I am so stuffed.”

There it was again! Who was going around telling people to call me Fancy Nancy? Someone was behind all this, but I needed to solve the missing money mystery first.

“This looks like a lot of food, Josh,” I said. “Hungry much?”

“I’m friends with all the food stand owners. They like to use me as their guinea pig. You know, make sure their food is as good as last year.” He took another sip of water. “It is all as good as last year. But I am so full.”

“I don’t see a fro-yo,” I said. “Deirdre didn’t bring you one?”

“No. She and I are kind of in an argument right now,” he said. “She’s mad at me for not meeting her at her car this morning, and I didn’t like that she was hanging around Ned earlier. No offense to you, but she’s always had a bit of a crush on him.”

“Is that why you went to see him this morning?” I asked. “To confront him?”

“How did you know about that?”

“Word got around about the cash box getting stolen. Chief McGinnis questioned a lot of people about who could have stolen the money, and your name came up.”

“Me?” He looked shocked, his eyes finally looking at me straight on. “I didn’t do it. I really didn’t. I like Ned. I just don’t like that Deirdre likes Ned.”

“I can’t help the fact that you’re a suspect,” I said.

“I didn’t steal the money.”

“I believe you.”

“Nancy, I swear to you on my driver’s license that I didn’t take that money.”

“Driver’s license?” I asked.

“It’s my most valuable possession. I would never steal from anyone. Not money. Not anything. I swear to you. Who thinks I stole it?”

“No one. Yet. People just said that they saw you stop by the ticket booth this morning,” I said. “So let me ask the obvious question: Did you stop by the ticket booth this morning to see Ned?”

“I did stop by, but I didn’t steal any money.”

“Then let me help you,” I said. “Why did you go to the ticket booth? You can understand why people would be suspicious. You’re not volunteering to help out. You’re not working at the carnival. You’re sitting here eating a ton of food. Apparently, not paying for it. You have to admit it looks awfully incriminating. There was no reason for you to be here that early.”

Josh looked around, like people were still watching him. He rubbed his eyes, then his temples. He looked pale, and his skin began sweating. Clearly he was nervous about something, and he wasn’t telling me anything new about why he borrowed paper. I began moving his food away from him, sliding it along the table. He closed his eyes, probably thankful I was removing it from his sight.

“Josh, why did you stop by the ticket booth this morning?” I asked again.

“You want the truth?” he asked. “I can’t believe I’m going to actually tell someone about this.”

“Please,” I said. “Tell me.”

“I asked Ned if I could borrow some paper.”

“To write a note?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“And was it blue?”

“Yeah.”

I couldn’t believe it. Was Josh the one who had been writing the notes? It made sense, though. Every food stand had been given a threatening note, and he sat at the picnic table eating something from each of the stands. Maybe he was threatening all of them so he could get free food. Except the note we received at the fro-yo stand didn’t say anything about receiving free food. And why would he ask Ned for paper to write notes, if he knew the notes could be traced back to him?

“I didn’t take the money,” he said. “All I did was ask Ned if I could borrow some paper and a pen.”

“To write the food stand notes,” I said. “I know. I really appreciate you coming forward with that information.”

“No, wait a minute. I only wrote one note. And it wasn’t to any of the food stands.” He stopped rubbing his temple. “What are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “Aren’t you the one who’s been threatening everyone?”

“No, I’m the one who —,” he started. Then he began again in a whisper. “I am the one who got in a car accident with a parked car and left a note on their windshield.”

“Excuse me? I asked, completely blindsided by his admission of guilt. Unfortunately, it was guilt for a random innocent crime.

“I drove my parents’ car to the carnival this morning. I was on my way to meet Deirdre. I was supposed to arrive early, meet her at her car, and help her carry the fro-yo supplies to the stand. The only problem was… I was parking in the parking lot when I got distracted by a song on the radio. I slammed into the car parked next to me when I was backing up into the spot. I scratched the whole side of both cars, but since no one was around and no one witnessed it, I had a choice. I could either park somewhere else and act like it never happened or leave a note on the other car with an explanation of what happened and give them all my information.”

“So you went to Ned at the ticket booth and asked to borrow a sheet of paper and a pen to write your note,” I said.

“I did the responsible thing and am holding myself accountable for my actions, but I am not going to be blamed for the stolen money. I didn’t do that.”

“Like I said before, I believe you.” I felt sorry for him, honestly. He did the right thing by leaving the note, the responsible thing, something my dad would have been very happy about. Although he wouldn’t have been happy about the scratches on his car.

Josh stood and waved for me to stand too. He walked toward the parking lot.

“Where are we going?” I asked. “I said that I believe you.”

“I want to show you the scratches and the note. My car is right there,” Josh said, pointing.

We walked across the lot to a grove of trees, shading the cars from the midday sun. We reached the cars, and Josh pointed to the long zigzag scratches along the sides of both cars. Flapping in the quiet breeze, tucked under the windshield wiper of the other car, was another blue note. I pulled it out and unfolded it. It read:

Dear Madam or Sir:

I accidentally hit your car when parking my own car.

Below is my insurance and personal information.

I am very sorry.

Josh

I put the note back. He left the note to be responsible and was eating to distract himself from his fear. I felt sorry for him and began to tell him about a great mechanic that Dad and I used who was an expert at dents and scratches, but when I turned around, Josh ran past me, shouting, “See? Oh man, my parents are going to be so mad.”

Josh was innocent. Another dead end.

As I walked back toward the carnival, I wondered how long it would be before something else went wrong. How long would it be before another note was found? How long would it be before another carnival ride was sabotaged? How much more money would be stolen? I felt stuck in this mystery, with every solid lead falling apart. I hoped George could work her magic and figure out what those smudges were, and I hoped Bess was having better luck with her suspect.

DAUGHTERS OF RIVER HEIGHTS FLOAT ARRIVES

Bess stood by herself, leaning up against the ticket booth, looking at the new coat of polish on her nails. She looked bored as she waited for someone. She finally looked up at me as I crossed the parking lot on my way back from Josh’s car.

“Fancy Nancy,” she said. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Really?” I asked. “Are you ready to tell me who started this silly nickname business? I really would love to know.”

“No, but I have some information about Mara Stanfield.”

Just then Mara appeared from behind the ticket booth with her purse in her hand.

“Whoa, look at that purse,” Bess said.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing. It’s beautiful. And not some knockoff, either.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“It’s a Prada purse. See the logo clasp? Very expensive. Very hard to copy. That is an authentic, real-deal Prada purse. So beautiful.”

I didn’t really understand what Bess was talking about, but she seemed to know a thing or two about accessories like this, so I took her word for it.

When I finally looked up from the purse and at Mara, she had a scowl on her face that terrified me. If she were a cartoon character, steam would have shot out of her ears. Her eyes would have been bright red and her nostrils flaring. She stormed past us and toward a giant tractor-trailer pulling into the parking lot. Behind the tractor-trailer was the Daughter of River Heights float, the one that Bess had been put in charge of overseeing the alterations for. Mara stood with her hands on her hips, waiting for the driver to park and shut off its engine.

“I will not let this parade start late, and if it does, it will not be my fault. I swear I cannot handle this right now. There is too much to do,” she said to herself. Her foot tapped fast. She crossed her arms over her chest as she waited.

Finally the driver parked and hopped out of his cab with a signature pad for someone to sign on delivery of the float.