“Ta-daaa!” Ben sang. “Double chocolate, anyone?”
Ben pointed to an all-brown sculpture. He had sprayed every white flower on it to create a chocolate cupcake!
“Sweet!” Nancy exclaimed. She handed Ben his ID. Then the girls left him to work on his sculpture. Nancy took out her clue book and crossed Ben’s name off their suspect list.
“We have only one suspect left,” Bess said.
“Pierre the peony poodle sculptor!” George declared.
“Let’s find Pierre,” Nancy said, shutting her clue book and slipping it into her jacket pocket, “and ask him a few questions.”
The girls walked together to Pierre’s work area. Instead of one peony poodle sculpture, they found two!
“There was only one yesterday,” Bess pointed out.
“The second poodle might be a clue,” Nancy said. “It might have been made with peonies from Miss LaLa’s hat.”
“But where’s Pierre?” George wondered.
Another sculptor overheard George. “Monsieur Pierre went home to walk his poodles, Celeste and Céline,” she said.
“Does he live far from here?” Nancy asked.
“Not at all,” the sculptor said. “His house and studio are only two blocks away, on Willow Street.”
“Thank you,” Nancy replied. She then told Bess and George, “We’re taking a little walk too—straight to Monsieur Pierre’s house!”
As the girls walked to Willow Street, Nancy asked, “What kind of questions should we ask Pierre?”
“I have one,” George said with a frown. “How did such a big guy fit through my mom’s kitchen window?”
Once on Willow Street, they found a huge peony poodle on someone’s front lawn. The house had to be Pierre’s!
A sign that read STUDIO pointed toward the back. When Nancy, Bess, and George reached the backyard, their mouths dropped open. Standing on the lawn were about a dozen pink-and-white-peony poodles!
“So this is where Pierre works,” Nancy said.
“They look so real!” Bess said as they walked around the sculptures. “Especially this one here.”
The fluffy white poodle was sculpted in a sitting position on the grass, but when Bess reached out to point to it—
Woof, woof, woof!
Nancy and Bess screamed as the white-peony poodle stood up, wagging its tail.
“It’s alive!” George cried. “It’s alive!”
SPOILED ROTTEN
Another peony poodle came to life just as Nancy, Bess, and George were about to run. Now two dogs were barking and running in circles around the girls!
“Excusez-moi! Excusez-moi!” a voice called. “What is happening here?”
Nancy glanced beyond the skittish poodles and saw Pierre racing over. Hanging from his hand were two pink, sparkly dog leashes.
“What are you doing to Celeste and Céline?” Pierre asked as he took hold of the poodles’ collars.
“And what were you doing sneaking away from my house with a bag of peonies?” George demanded.
“Pardon?” Pierre gulped.
“We saw you carrying it, Pierre,” Bess said. “You do remember bumping into us, don’t you?”
“We also found a trail of white petals in George’s yard,” Nancy said. “Right after we saw you leave.”
Pierre muttered something under his breath, then said, “I did take the peonies.”
Nancy, Bess, and George traded excited looks. Had Pierre just confessed to switching the fresh peonies on Miss LaLa’s hat with wilted ones?
“Now if you will excusez-moi,” Pierre said, lifting the leashes, “I have two poodles that need to piddle.”
“Wait, please, Pierre,” Nancy said. “We just want to know why you did that to Miss LaLa.”
“Is it because you’re jealous of her?” George asked.
Pierre looked at the girls with surprise. “What do the peonies I took have to do with Miss LaLa?” he asked.
“You just said you took the peonies,” Nancy said, confused. “Didn’t you?”
“Oui!” Pierre agreed. “I needed more peonies to build my second poodle sculpture. So I cut a bunch from the next-door neighbor’s bushes.”
“My neighbors, the Baxters?” George asked. “You mean the peonies growing over their fence into our yard?”
“I didn’t want your neighbors to see me,” Pierre told George, “so I cut their peonies from your yard.”
Nancy frowned at Pierre. “Cutting other people’s flowers without their permission is not okay,” she said.
“A big no-no,” Bess added.
“I know, I know,” Pierre admitted. “So yesterday I called the Baxters to apologize and make it up to them.”
“How?” Nancy asked.
“I agreed to create a peony sculpture of their mixed-breed dog, Fester,” Pierre said, rolling his eyes. “He’s some kind of . . . Jack-a-poo.”
“Half poodle, half Jack Russell,” George said with a smile. “Fester is a neat dog!”
Pierre began clipping on his dog’s leashes. But Nancy still had questions.
“We had reason to think you ruined Miss LaLa’s hat,” Nancy said. “We heard you tell Mayor Strong that you didn’t like her.”
“I do now,” Pierre said happily as he pulled out his phone. “Miss LaLa needed dogs for a new video she was shooting this morning and guess which ones she picked?”
Pierre held up his phone. The girls watched as he played a video of Miss LaLa singing while walking two white standard poodles!
“Are those Céline and Celeste?” Nancy asked.
Pierre nodded. “They are not just dogs anymore,” he said. “They are celebrities just like Monsieur Pierre!”
Suddenly—
Woof, woof, woof!
Céline and Celeste turned and shot toward a tree. Pierre yelped as the two dogs pulled him across the lawn!
“Celebrities who chase squirrels,” Nancy giggled.
“Dogs will be dogs!” George laughed.
The girls called thank you to Pierre and left his yard. As they walked up the block, Nancy crossed another name off her suspect list.
“Pierre is innocent,” Nancy declared. “And we have no more suspects. Zero . . . zip . . . zilch.”
“What should we do now, Nancy?” Bess asked.
Nancy glanced at her watch. It was time to go home to walk her own dog, Chocolate Chip. It was also getting close to dinnertime, so—
“Maybe we’d better go home,” Nancy said.
“Home?” George exclaimed. “But Miss LaLa will be at my house tomorrow morning to pick up her hat!”
“Her wilted hat,” Bess added.
Nancy was worried too. She knew time was running out. But she refused to give up.
“I promise to think about the case all night and tomorrow morning,” Nancy said. “Until my brain starts to wilt too!”
“Maybe Mr. Fayne snuck into the kitchen Friday night for a midnight snack,” Nancy thought out loud, “and forgot to shut the refrigerator door while he finished off some rocky road ice cream!”
Nancy was about to scribble the thought in her clue book when Mr. Drew said, “Nancy? What are you doing?”
“Hi, Daddy,” Nancy said, looking up from her clue book. “I’m still working on my case.”
“I can see that,” Mr. Drew said with a smile. “How about working on setting the table instead?”
“Big lasagna dinner tonight,” Hannah told Nancy. “I could use your help.”
“And I could use a brain break,” Nancy said as she closed her clue book. She was about to place it on the kitchen table, when she noticed something different.
“What happened to the pretty carnations that were on the table?” Nancy asked. “The ones next to the fruit bowl?”
“I had to throw them away,” Hannah admitted. “They got all brown and wilted all of a sudden.”
“So soon?” Nancy asked, surprised. “Why?”
“A woman in my gardening club once told me t
hat placing flowers next to fresh fruit will quicken wilting,” Hannah explained. “Although I can’t remember why.”
“Well, what do you know?” Mr. Drew said. “I guess one bad apple really does spoil the whole bunch—of flowers.”
Nancy turned to look at her father. Bad apple . . . whole bunch . . . where had she heard those words before?
Her eyes lit up as it suddenly clicked.
“Omigosh!” Nancy gasped. “George’s science project!”
Clue Crew—and YOU!
Can you solve the case of the wilted peony hat? It’s your turn to think like the Clue Crew. Or go to the next page to find out!
1. The Clue Crew ruled out Madame Withers, Benjamin Bing, and Monsieur Pierre. Can you think of others who might want to ruin Miss LaLa’s hat? Write their names down on a piece of paper.
2. Nancy suddenly remembered George’s bad-apple science project in Mrs. Fayne’s refrigerator. Why might this be important? Write one or more reasons on a piece of paper.
3. While working on the case, the Clue Crew used their eyes and ears to find clues. At what time did Nancy use her nose? Write it down on a piece of paper.
PEONY HARMONY
Nancy loved Hannah’s lasagna, but all she could think about through dinner was George’s science project. She even saved dessert for later, racing upstairs to do research on her computer.
After reading all about fruits, flowers, and wilting petals, Nancy looked down at Chip sitting at her feet.
“Hannah’s friend was right,” Nancy told her puppy. “When fruit gets very ripe, it lets out a gas that can make flowers wilt.”
Without wasting a minute, Nancy got permission to call George.
“Listen, George, this is important,” Nancy said into the phone. “Is your rotten apple experiment still in your mom’s fridge?”
“Sure,” George said. “But why—”
“Take it out right now, please,” Nancy cut in.
“Can’t,” George said. “I was just on my way out to visit my grandmother. My dad is calling me from the door.”
Nancy chewed on her lower lip, then said, “Okay. I’ll be at your house tomorrow morning with Bess.”
“Did you figure out who ruined LaLa’s hat?” George asked.
“Not who,” Nancy replied. “What!”
The next morning, Nancy and Bess stood along with George inside the kitchen trailer. Mrs. Fayne had left a platter of flower cookies out for the girls to enjoy.
“Yummy!” Bess said, grabbing a cookie and taking a bite. Nancy also took a cookie. George was too confused to snack.
“Can somebody please tell me what’s going on?” George asked.
“I don’t know either, George,” Bess said between cookie chews. “Nancy said she’d tell us both when we got here.”
“Well, we’re here now,” George said. “So go ahead, Nancy. Spill.”
Nancy put her cookie aside. “Okay, but first,” she told George, “take Miss LaLa’s peony hat out of the fridge.”
Bess held the fridge door open while George pulled out the flowered hat. Even more white peonies had become brown and droopy!
“So?” George asked after placing the hat on the table.
“Next, take out your rotten-apple science project,” Nancy instructed.
George reached way inside the fridge for her project. But the moment she pulled it out—
“Yuck!” Nancy exclaimed. “All the apples have gone bad.”
“They smell bad too,” Bess said, scrunching her nose.
“Which means my science project was a success,” George said happily. “One rotten apple really does spoil the whole bunch.”
She turned to Nancy and asked, “But what does it have to do with Miss LaLa’s hat?”
“Here’s what I found out,” Nancy said. “The gases in the rotten apple spoiled the other apples—but they also spoil certain flowers like peonies!”
“Really?” Bess asked.
“Then nobody did this on purpose?” George asked.
“Nobody but the rotten apple,” Nancy replied.
Bess gave a little gasp. “That is so awesome, Nancy,” she said. “Now we know what really ruined Miss LaLa’s hat!”
Nancy smiled at Bess. But when she looked at George, all she saw was a frown.
“A lot of good this does,” George muttered. She pointed to the clock on the wall. “Miss LaLa will be here to pick up her hat in—”
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
“Two seconds,” Bess said as they turned toward the door. Was that Miss LaLa knocking? There was only one way to find out.
“Um . . . who is it?” George called.
“It’s me—LaLa!” Miss LaLa called back. “I hope you don’t mind that I’m a bit early.”
Nancy, Bess, and George traded frantic looks. In a blink, they rushed to shove the wilted hat into the fridge.
“No problem, Miss LaLa!” George shouted at the door. She then turned to Nancy and hissed, “What are we going to tell her?”
“The truth,” Nancy whispered. “We didn’t ruin her hat on purpose. It was an accident.”
“A scientific accident,” Bess whispered.
All three girls walked to the door. Nancy and Bess peeked over George’s shoulder as she slowly opened it.
Standing outside was Miss LaLa, dressed in a pink jumpsuit, a giant flower-petal collar around her neck. She lowered her black shades as she smiled at the girls.
“Good morning!” LaLa said. “Your mom told me you guys were in the trailer . . . trailer. . . .”
She threw back her head with a giant ah-chooo!
“You’d better take care of that cold,” Bess said as LaLa entered the trailer. “You’ve been sneezing since yesterday.”
“It’s not a cold,” LaLa sniffed. “I found out that I’m totally allergic to something.”
“Yesterday you thought it was Madame Withers’s perfumes,” George said.
“It’s not,” LaLa said, shaking her head. “Unless Madame Withers had a perfume made from peonies.”
“Peonies?” Nancy asked.
“I was making a video with two poodles in a peony garden yesterday and I couldn’t stop sneezing between takes,” LaLa sighed. “I’m not allergic to dogs, so it must have been the peonies in the garden.”
She shrugged and said, “So it looks like I won’t be wearing my peony hat to the flower show.”
The girls gaped at Miss LaLa. Then—
“You won’t?” George exclaimed.
“Are we lucky or what?” Bess cheered—until getting an elbow nudge from Nancy.
“She means, what terrible luck!” Nancy blurted. “Your peony hat was so pretty—”
“Pretty annoying if it makes you sneeze!” George piped in rapidly. “Don’t even think of wearing it, LaLa!”
“Oh, I won’t, that’s for sure,” Miss LaLa agreed as she rubbed her nose to stop another sneeze. “But what will I wear to the flower show instead?”
Nancy’s eyes darted around the kitchen for an idea. When she spotted Mrs. Fayne’s platter of cookies, she smiled.
“How about a hat made of a different kind of flower, Miss LaLa?” Nancy asked. “What about jumbo flower cookies?”
Miss LaLa clasped her hands together and gasped. “A jumbo flower cookie hat is so me!” she exclaimed. “Girlfriend, you are one smart apple!”
Nancy and her friends gulped. A rotten apple was what had caused the problem in the first place, so—
“Miss LaLa?” Nancy asked. “How about ‘smart cookie’ instead?”
“Who would think we’d have so much fun today?” George asked later that day. “Especially after what happened to Miss LaLa’s hat!”
Nancy nodded in agreement. After crafting the coolest jumbo flower cookie hat for Miss LaLa, the girls had joined their favorite singer at the River Heights Flower Sculpture Show.
“Someone was happy to receive all those wilted peonies,” Nancy reminded George and Bess.
“Madame W
ithers!” Bess declared.
The girls gathered with others to watch Miss LaLa perform her latest song. Making sure to stay far from the peony sculptures, LaLa looked great in her awesome flower cookie hat.
Looking around, Nancy saw Ben standing proudly next to his flowery chocolate cupcake. She also saw Pierre happily watching Celeste and Céline in LaLa’s musical number.
But proudest of all was George—of her rotten-apple science project.
“Who knew that one bad apple would spoil the whole bunch and flowers!” George shouted over the music. “My science project will totally rock!”
“Don’t forget,” Nancy told her friends, “the Clue Crew has something down to a science too.”
“We do?” Bess asked. “What?”
“What else?” Nancy said with a grin. “Mysteries!”
Test your detective skills with even more Clue Book mysteries:
Nancy Drew Clue Book #10: Boo Crew
“Double, double, toil and trouble!” George Fayne declared. Then she wrinkled her nose and said, “Did witches really talk like that?”
“They spoke that way in William Shakespeare’s play Macbeth,” eight-year-old Nancy Drew said. “I’m glad my dad told me about the old play so we can audition as the three witch sisters!”
Nancy’s best friend George rolled the big black cauldron up the street. Her other best friend, Bess Marvin, helped Nancy carry a duffel bag filled with witch costumes and awesome brew ingredients.
George blew dark curly bangs out of her eyes. “ ‘Bubble, bubble’ sounds better than ‘double, double,’ ” she said. “Why don’t we say that instead?”
“We will have a bubbly cauldron of brew,” Bess said happily, “thanks to my bottle of strawberry bubble bath!”
“Then bubble, bubble it is!” Nancy said.
If the girls’ hands weren’t so full, they would have high-fived. The hit show Twinkling Little Stars was coming to River Heights to audition kids for their TV talent contest.
“I’m glad the auditions are for their special Halloween show,” Nancy said. “We get to dress up two weeks before Halloween!”
Springtime Crime Page 4