151 The Chocolate-Covered Contest

by Carolyn Keene

  Someone from marketing will be with you in a

  moment.”

  “She seemed surprised when I said I won the grand

  prize, didn't she?” Bess commented as they watched

  the receptionist make a phone call.

  “I guess it's pretty unusual for people to walk in off

  the street and claim their prizes,” Nancy said.

  “Yeah. I wonder what the odds are of getting the

  winning wrapper while you're actually in the park. One

  in a hundred million?”

  The receptionist motioned for them to approach the

  desk.

  “They're expecting you upstairs in marketing,” she

  said. “That's on the fifth floor. Take a right when you

  get off the elevator and wait in the reception area.

  Joyce Palmer is the contest administrator. She'll meet

  you there shortly.”

  Nancy pressed the Up button beside the elevator.

  “Thanks for your help.”

  On the fifth floor the chocolate brown walls were

  hung with prints of Royal Chocolates wrappers through

  the decades. Warm chocolate-chip cookies were spread

  on a table beside a carafe filled with cocoa. “If I

  worked here, I'd gain fifty pounds,” Bess whispered.

  She poured herself a cup of steaming hot chocolate and

  took a sip. “Ow!” she cried.

  “Burned your tongue?”

  “With something this good, there's always a price,”

  Bess murmured.

  Nancy took a cookie and closed her eyes as she

  savored the taste of butter and chocolate mingling on

  her tongue. She was startled out of her reverie by the

  sound of an irate male voice.

  “Joyce!” the man shouted.

  “Joyce,” Nancy whispered to Bess. “She's the person

  we're supposed to see, right? Maybe she's coming to

  get us.”

  Bess tapped her foot. “I hope so.”

  “Joyce!” the voice repeated. “In my office. Now!”

  “Then again, maybe she's not.” Nancy relaxed in her

  seat and popped the rest of the cookie into her mouth.

  “I'm going to have to get the recipe for these,” she

  murmured.

  “Yes, Mr. Tumey?” said Joyce in a high-pitched

  voice.

  “Tell me, Joyce. Why is it that our company holds

  contests?”

  Nancy felt her muscles tense and glanced over at

  Bess. Although they could not see what was going on in

  Mr. Tumey's office it was clear from his tone that he

  was very upset. Nancy was afraid they were about to

  overhear an unpleasant conversation.

  “I'm not sure what you're asking,” Joyce stammered.

  “I mean, you know why we—”

  “Why do we run contests?” Mr. Tumey repeated.

  “We run contests,” Joyce replied, “to entice

  shoppers to buy our candy with the prospect of

  winning a prize. It gives us an edge over the com-

  petition and increases our sales.”

  “Not only have we not increased sales,” Mr. Tumey

  shouted, “but they have dropped by ten percent. We

  have made an outlay of millions of dollars in prizes and

  marketing materials only to lose money!”

  “I can't stand this.” Bess cleared her throat loudly.

  Mr. Tumey's voice continued to get louder. “Can

  you understand why this makes me upset? Why this

  makes my bosses upset?”

  “Of course.” Joyce's voice wavered. “It makes me

  upset, too. But no one could have predicted this would

  happen.”

  “That's your job, Joyce. You have to be able to

  predict this kind of problem.”

  “But you were enthusiastic about the contest—you

  and Mr. Castle approved the idea.”

  “We approved the idea based on the facts that you

  presented to us,” Mr. Tumey said. “It was your

  responsibility to do the research.”

  Nancy squirmed in her chair. She wondered

  whether Mr. Tumey would be yelling at Joyce if he

  knew there were visitors in the office.

  “That Mr. Tumey sounds mean,” Bess whispered.

  “I'm glad we don't have to talk to him.”

  “I presented you with all the facts we had at the

  time,” Joyce said. “Obviously I couldn't have predicted

  that Pleasant Candies would launch a new candy at the

  exact same time that we ran our promotion. I couldn't

  know that Golden Bars would be a caramel-filled candy

  bar just like Crown Jewels.”

  “They do taste the same,” Bess whispered to Nancy.

  “It was your job to know,” Mr. Tumey said. “Market

  research is your area. Furthermore, do you think it's a

  coincidence that Pleasant Candies launched this new

  candy bar at the same time we ran our promotion?

  That they undercut our price by five cents? That they

  duplicated the taste of the Crown Jewels chocolate?

  Somebody at Pleasant knew our plans, Joyce. Pleasant

  Candies is paying someone to steal our secrets.”

  Joyce gasped. “Are you saying you think there's a

  corporate spy?”

  “I know there's a corporate spy.” Mr. Tumey paused.

  “I want you to stay alert, Joyce. We have to find this

  person before Pleasant carves out a greater share of

  our business. Before something else happens. Do you

  understand?”

  “Yes, Mr. Tumey. I'll do what I can.”

  “See that you do.”

  Nancy stood as Joyce strode out of the office with

  her head down.

  “I'm sorry,” Joyce said. “Can I help you?” Then her

  hand went to her mouth. “Oh, no. I'm Joyce Palmer.

  You're waiting to see me, aren't you? I completely

  forgot.”

  “Yes,” Nancy said apologetically. Joyce must know

  that they had overheard Mr. Tumey's every harsh

  word, she thought.

  “We're sorry to bother you. We know you must be

  busy.” Nancy shook Joyce's hand, then introduced

  herself and Bess.

  “The receptionist said something about your wanting

  to claim a contest prize. I don't know why she sent you

  to me.” Joyce bit her lip. “But come have a seat in my

  office. We'll see if we can take care of it for you.”

  Joyce offered Nancy and Bess some hot chocolate.

  “No, thanks,” Bess said immediately, her tongue

  going to the roof of her mouth.

  Joyce settled into her chair. “All right, then. What

  can I do for you?”

  “This is kind of hard to believe, but”—Bess fumbled

  around in her pocket for the wrapper—“I seem to have

  won the grand prize in the Crown Jewels

  Sweepstakes.”

  There was a long pause. “The grand prize?” Joyce

  repeated.

  “Yes. You know, a million dollars, a trip to Kings

  Commons . . .”

  “I'm sorry,” Joyce interrupted. “But what you're

  saying is absolutely impossible.”

  The smile froze on Bess's face. “I'm sorry,” she

  stammered. “I don't understand. Why is it impossible

  that I won?”

  “Well,” Joyce said, “there's only one grand prize.

  And it's already been awarded.”
/>
  3. Jungle Kingdom

  Nancy and Bess stared at Joyce.

  “What did you say?” Bess asked.

  “You probably misread the wrapper.” Joyce took a

  swig of coffee. “It happens all the time.” She motioned

  for Bess to hand it to her. “Let me see. I bet you won

  one of the smaller prizes. A Crown Jewels tote bag or

  something.”

  Bess unfolded the wrapper and showed it to Joyce.

  “It clearly says grand prize,' “ Bess said. “One million

  dollars.”

  Joyce frowned as she flattened the wrapper on her

  desk. She pulled a magnifying glass from her desk

  drawer.

  Bess leaned forward. “I'm not wrong, am I?”

  “You're not wrong,” Joyce confirmed. “But—the

  winning wrapper has already been verified by our

  contest prize division. In fact, the winner is enjoying

  her vacation at the park right now. And there's only

  one winning wrapper. Only one was printed.” Joyce

  paused for a moment to let her words sink in. “Do you

  understand, then, why I find your claim disturbing?”

  “I'm sure you understand why we find your claim

  disturbing,” Nancy said. “Are you saying that Bess has

  cheated in some way?”

  “Nancy is a detective, and her father's a lawyer,”

  Bess blurted out. “They'll prove that I won fair and

  square.”

  Joyce put her hand over Bess's. “You don't need a

  detective or a lawyer, Bess. Of course we'll do a

  thorough investigation of your claim. Let me make a

  copy of the wrapper for you to keep. The original will

  be sent to the claim investigators.”

  Bess picked up her wrapper and clung tightly to it.

  “It's standard procedure for all prize winners,” Joyce

  explained.

  Nancy nodded to Bess, and Bess handed over the

  wrapper.

  Joyce moved to a locked file cabinet and removed a

  folder from the top drawer. “How old are you, Bess?”

  “Eighteen,” Bess replied. “Why?”

  “Excellent,” Joyce said. “Contest rules state that you

  must be at least eighteen to win. I'll need you to sign

  these affidavits to that effect. You must also verify that

  you are not directly related to an employee of Royal

  Chocolates or Kings Commons, and that you are not

  employed here yourself.”

  Bess took the pen from Joyce. “I have no problem

  with any of that. Where do I sign?”

  Nancy glanced over Bess's shoulder. “Do you mind

  if I read these first?”

  “Of course not.” Bess handed her the papers.

  “Thanks.”

  “In the meantime, let me ask you a few questions,”

  Joyce said. She ran her fingers through her brown

  curls. “Where did you purchase the winning Crown

  Jewels bar?”

  “I'm not exactly sure,” Bess explained.

  Joyce raised her eyebrows.

  “What I mean is, I'm at Kings Commons with a

  nonprofit educational group called the Science Sleuths.

  Their leader, Andrea Cassella, bought us the chocolate

  this morning from one of the vendors in the park. I'm

  not sure which one.”

  Joyce set down her pen. “That's very interesting.”

  “Why is that interesting?” Bess asked. “It's no big

  deal. I'm sure I can find out where she bought them.”

  “I'd like you to find out,” Joyce said, “because we're

  not selling the instant-win bars inside the park.”

  Bess opened her mouth, then closed it again.

  “Look,” she said finally, “I don't know what's going on

  here, but I didn't cheat. I wouldn't cheat, and if you

  want to accuse me of cheating, you're going to have to

  prove it.”

  “I'm not accusing you of anything,” Joyce said

  pleasantly. “As I explained, we'll look into the matter.”

  “You can bet Nancy will be looking into the matter,

  too.” Bess stood up. “Come on, Nan. Let's go—”

  “Don't forget to sign your paperwork,” Joyce said.

  Nancy gave Bess the papers. “Everything looks okay

  to me. Do you want me to ask my dad to review them?”

  “That's okay. I just want to get out of here.” Bess

  seized the pen and scrawled her signature in several

  places.

  “Make sure you list your address and phone number

  so we'll be able to contact you,” Joyce said.

  Bess nodded. “And I can be reached at the King's

  Quarters Motel tonight.”

  Joyce opened the supply closet, which was filled

  with Crown Jewels hats and canvas bags and T-shirts.

  She stuffed several chocolate bars into a bag and gave

  them to Bess. “For your students,” she said. “I hope

  you enjoy your stay at Kings Commons.” She smiled.

  “Do you have big plans for your day?”

  “Well,” Bess said, “since the Royal Pain is broken

  and it's raining and Nancy and I wasted half our day

  here, I guess that leaves the animal park.”

  “Oh, you'll enjoy Jungle Kingdom.” Joyce rifled

  through her desk drawer for a brochure. “You'll want to

  be sure to see the baby white tiger.” She stood and

  shook each of the girls' hands. “I apologize for the

  inconvenience and any offense you might have taken. I

  promise I'll be in touch as soon as I have news.”

  “Thanks,” Nancy said. “We'll see ourselves out.”

  As they walked into the reception area, a woman

  barreled into Joyce's office, brushing against Nancy's

  sleeve.

  “Does that woman ever watch where she's going?”

  Bess mumbled.

  Nancy realized it was the same woman who had run

  into Kenny earlier in the park. Her husband followed a

  few paces behind her.

  “Hi, Diana. Phil,” Joyce greeted the couple

  cheerfully. “What can I do for you?”

  “I was wondering whether a new shirt might be

  included in my all-expenses-paid trip,” Diana said.

  “Mine was soiled by a careless kid in the park. I got a

  huge bruise on my knee, too.”

  “All-expenses-paid trip?” Bess pressed her hand

  against her mouth. “Do you mean to tell me that nasty

  lady is the real contest winner?”

  “Not the real contest winner,” Nancy corrected.

  “You're the real contest winner.”

  “Right. And how much do you want to bet that next

  she'll try suing them over her stupid bruise.” Bess

  shook her head as they moved to the elevator. “I'm so

  glad you're here, Nan. I know you'll be able to figure

  out what's going on.”

  Nancy put a hand on Bess's shoulder. “Don't worry.

  I'll do everything I can to prove you're the real

  winner.” She stared back at Joyce's office. “And I think

  I'll start with a close look at Diana and Phil.”

  The weather had turned dreary, and a steady rain

  fell on Kings Commons. Nancy saw Bess shiver and

  suggested that they stop and buy parkas before

  meeting the Science Sleuths at the Moat Float. They

  ducked into a country store with a candy cane-striped


  awning.

  George waved at them from behind a display of

  sweatshirts. “Hey, guys. We came in here to get out of

  the rain. How'd it go?”

  Ten Science Sleuths rushed to Bess's side.

  “What happened?”

  “Where's the chocolate?”

  “I won't be getting the money until later.” Bess

  patted the tote bag. “I do have chocolate bars— for

  later,” she added firmly.

  Bess then picked up a book and absently flipped

  through pages of dessert recipes. After a minute

  George nudged her. “What's up? You're looking at

  chocolate and you seem totally unexcited.”

  “I'll tell you later,” Bess murmured. “How was the

  Moat Float?” she asked the Sleuths.

  “We got really wet,” Laura said with relish. “But you

  can hardly tell now that it's raining so hard.”

  “I knew it was going to rain.” Kenny sighed. “Our

  whole day's ruined.”

  “Not ruined.” Andrea clapped her hands. “Come on,

  Sleuths. We're going to take in the Jungle Kingdom

  from our van, where it's dry and cozy. Find your

  partners. Let's go.”

  As the group trudged across the parking lot in the

  steady rain, Nancy quietly filled George and Andrea in

  on their meeting with Joyce.

  George frowned. “What a way to do business. You

  can bet I won't be buying Royal Chocolates anymore.”

  “George, you never bought Royal Chocolates,” Bess

  said.

  “Okay, well, you shouldn't buy them anymore,

  then,” George suggested. “That'll really hurt their

  business.”

  Bess punched her cousin's arm. “Very funny.”

  “I think I can clear up one mystery here.” Andrea

  unlocked the van and motioned for the Sleuths to

  climb in. “If Joyce says your claim is suspicious because

  Royal isn't selling instant-win bars in the park, you can

  tell her I didn't buy them in the park.”

  “You didn't?” Nancy examined a Crown Jewels bar

  from the tote bag Joyce had given Bess. She noticed

  that, as Joyce said, the wrapper did not advertise the

  instant-win contest.

  “You know we're pinching pennies,” Andrea ex-

  plained. “Crown Jewels bars were on sale at a grocery

  store last week in River Heights, so I bought them

  then.”

  “You plan ahead for everything, don't you?” Bess

  said with admiration.

  “Obviously not,” Andrea replied. “Otherwise, I

  would have made sure you knew where I got the candy