The Chocolate-Covered Contest

by Carolyn Keene

  George laughed. “After our kiddie coaster

  experience, I think that's probably a good idea.”

  “Anyone who doesn't want to go on Royal Pain can

  come with me,” Bess said. “Instead, we'll go to . . .”

  “The haunted house!” Laura shouted.

  Nancy glanced at her map. “That would be Castle

  Ballyboo. We'll all walk this way, then you go north.”

  As they got closer to Royal Pain, Kenny's eyes grew

  wide. “I didn't realize it was so . . .”

  “Big and scary looking,” Emma said as a car zipped

  overhead, the shrieks of its riders hanging in the air.

  “I'm not going on that,” Ashley said. “No, thanks.”

  “Raise your hand if you're going on Royal Pain with

  me,” George asked.

  “Well, I guess I'll go to the haunted castle with you,”

  Nancy told Bess after she counted only two hands.

  They left George, Katie, and Noah at the roller coaster

  line, which snaked out of the waiting area, around the

  games booths, and back across the drawbridge.

  “I bet we can do three rides in the time it takes them

  to ride Royal Pain,” Bess said as they approached the

  castle door. “And we'll probably still get back to the

  motel first.”

  “This doesn't seem to be one of the park's more

  popular attractions,” Nancy observed. There was no

  line at all. In fact, the entire area around the castle

  appeared to be deserted.

  Nancy struggled with the heavy castle door, which

  creaked open reluctantly. She poked her head into the

  gray gloom. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling. A cold

  mist floated in the air.

  A pair of eyes glowed red in the darkness, and organ

  music played in a minor key.

  “This is so cheesy,” Kenny said. He raced ahead of

  the group. “Fake bats, fake blood, fake screams.”

  “Kenny! Don't get too far ahead of us,” Bess called.

  Her voice echoed back to them, and she shivered.

  “It's cold in here. And I don't care what Kenny says—I

  think it's creepy.”

  They rounded a corner, and Bess paused to examine

  a corpse in a crumbling coffin. “Yuck.”

  Nancy walked ahead with Laura. “Are you coming?”

  she called back to Bess. “Bess?” she repeated.

  The only answer she received was Bess's blood-

  curdling scream.

  10. Touched by a Corpse

  “Nancy!” Bess screamed. “Nan!”

  Nancy raced back through the narrow passageway to

  the spot where she had left Bess.

  Bess stood, frozen, as she pointed toward the coffin.

  “That corpse. It touched me!”

  Cackling laughter filled the air. Nancy felt her skin

  prickle as the “corpse” sat up and took a slow bow.

  Nancy squinted into the darkness. “Kenny?”

  Kenny jumped up and hit his head on the coffin's

  lid. “Ow.”

  “Serves you right,” Bess murmured.

  Kenny ducked under the wooden barrier that

  separated the exhibit from the walking path for the

  public. “I got you good.”

  “You certainly did,” Bess agreed. “That's two near

  heart attacks in the last hour thanks to you Sleuths. My

  quota for the day has been exceeded.”

  Nancy and Bess wound through the rest of the

  exhibit and found the other Sleuths staring at a glowing

  skeleton.

  “Phosphorescence at work,” Emma said. “Who

  would think the haunted house could be educational?”

  “Speaking of educational,” Bess said, “there's time

  for one ride before we go back to the motel so you can

  work on your journals.” She turned to Nancy. “I need a

  nap,” she whispered.

  Nancy nodded. She was tired, too. The sun and the

  water had sapped her energy. So had the endless

  conversation with the Sleuths.

  “You wouldn't believe the wild stuff I found in that

  coffin.” Kenny held out his palm. “The back of

  somebody's earring. A pacifier. And somebody

  obviously didn't like those new Royal gumdrops.”

  “I certainly hope you're planning to wash your hands

  as soon as possible,” Bess said.

  “You're just grumpy because I scared you,” Kenny

  replied.

  “Practically to death,” Bess agreed. “Do you want to

  see my name on one of those tombstones?”

  “No,” Kenny said. “But you'll never guess what

  name I did see on a grave back there.”

  Nancy held up her hands. “You're right. I'll never

  guess.”

  “Cassella,” Kenny said. “You know—as in Andrea.”

  “Hmm.” Nancy's steps slowed as she contemplated

  what Kenny had just said.

  Bess caught Nancy's eye. “I see those wheels

  turning,” she said quietly. “What are you thinking?”

  “I was just wondering . . . I know this sounds

  ridiculous, but if there is a connection between Andrea

  and Robert Castle, could that tombstone have

  something to do with it?”

  Bess made a face. “That's a pretty far-out idea.

  Yikes. I hope not.”

  “I hate to say it, but I hope so. I hope Kenny found

  us a clue. And I hope Andrea can offer us some kind of

  reasonable explanation for all of this.”

  After one more ride, Nancy and Bess helped the

  Sleuths settle in with their homework at the motel.

  Then Nancy called to check on the van. With any luck,

  she was told, it might be ready in the morning. Then

  she phoned the hospital, only to learn that Andrea was

  sleeping—again.

  Nancy sighed. “An unconscious witness is not very

  helpful,” she told Bess.

  “Hey, what's that?” Bess asked, and bent down to

  pick up a piece of paper that had been shoved under

  the front door. “The desk took a message for you, Nan.

  It's from your dad.”

  Nancy felt a twinge of fear. She knew her dad

  probably wouldn't call her unless it was important. She

  hoped nothing was wrong.

  Her father picked up the phone on the first ring.

  “Nothing's wrong,” he said immediately.

  “That's good,” Nancy said, relieved. “So what's going

  on?”

  “Apparently, a woman called here earlier this

  afternoon asking several questions about you,” Mr.

  Drew explained. “Hannah thought you should know.

  Also, could you please reassure her that you're not

  doing anything dangerous?”

  “Sure.” Nancy smiled as she waited for her father to

  hand over the phone. “I'm fine, Hannah. Don't worry

  about me.”

  “That's easy for you to say.” Hannah chuckled.

  “What did this woman ask you when she called?”

  Nancy asked.

  “She said she was a reporter doing a story about one

  of your cases,” Hannah said. “After she asked a few

  questions, I got a bit suspicious. And when I pressed

  her for details, she hung up.”

  “Hmm,” Nancy said. “Is there anything else you can

  tell me about your conversation?”

  “As a matter of
fact,” Hannah replied, “I noticed

  that there was a lot of noise in the back-ground during

  the call. There were people shouting and laughing, and

  also some sort of tinny music. It was playing—”

  “ Row, Row, Row Your Boat?' ” Nancy asked.

  Hannah clicked her tongue. “Nancy Drew, how did

  you know that?”

  Nancy laughed. “Just a hunch. Thanks, Hannah. You

  did great. And everything's under control here. I

  promise.”

  “What was that all about?” Bess asked as Nancy

  hung up the phone.

  “It seems that someone called my house and tried to

  grill Hannah about me. It also seems that the call came

  from Water Wonderland.”

  “Diana?” Bess wondered.

  “Well,” Nancy said, “we know she was at the water

  park earlier today and seemed to be spying on us. We

  also know someone was doing research on us online in

  the computer lab. Was it the same person? Was it

  Diana? I don't know.”

  George breezed in just then, her short hair tousled

  and her cheeks pink. “That was an awesome ride. It

  was definitely worth the wait. We went on it twice.”

  “Did Katie and Noah love it?” Bess asked.

  “Katie did. Noah said he'll let us know after his

  stomach settles.”

  “I hope you started them on their homework,” Bess

  said.

  George nodded. “Do you think I'd forget my

  chaperoning duties? Noah couldn't wait to interpret his

  data. He thinks Royal Pain is going to edge Labyrinth

  for the title of speed queen by a few centimeters per

  second.”

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Come in!” Bess called.

  The door opened a crack. “I'm sorry to bother you,”

  Laura said. “I'm stuck on this problem. Can you help

  me?”

  Nancy pursed her lips. “We're not exactly science

  experts,” she said, “but we'll give it a try. What is it?”

  “I got a little distracted during the chocolate factory

  tour,” Laura explained, “when Andrea got sick. Have

  you talked to her?”

  Nancy motioned for Laura to sit down. “I was going

  to make an announcement at dinner. Andrea was

  asleep when I called the hospital, so I didn't actually

  speak with her. But she's doing well. She should be

  released in the morning. And the van might be fixed,

  too.”

  Laura seemed relieved. “Thanks, Nancy. It makes

  me feel a lot better to know that.”

  “So,” Bess said, “what's your problem with this

  worksheet?”

  Laura pointed to several diagrams on the page. “If

  you have this many gallons of milk produced by this

  many cows, plus this much sugar cane, how many

  pounds of cacao beans do you need to make this much

  dark chocolate, milk chocolate, and cocoa butter?”

  “Yikes,” Bess said. “Who made up this problem?”

  Nancy leafed through Laura's factory tour notes to

  find the proportions of ingredients in the different

  types of chocolate. With a little guidance, Laura was

  able to plug in the correct values and arrive at an

  answer.

  Laura thanked Nancy for her help. She pressed her

  hand against her growling stomach. “Just thinking

  about all that chocolate makes me hungry—”

  “I'm hungry, too,” Bess said. “Why don't you go back

  to your room and get ready for dinner? We'll be going

  in a few minutes.”

  “What are we eating tonight?” Laura asked.

  “Italian,” Bess replied. “Yum.”

  “Italian . . .” Nancy's voice trailed off.

  “What?” George closed the door behind Laura. “You

  like Italian food, don't you?”

  “No. I mean, yes, I do. I was just thinking. Joyce said

  that the founder of Royal Chocolates was an Italian

  immigrant who changed his name, right?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Bess ran a comb through her tangled

  hair. “And that has something to do with dinner?”

  Nancy shook her head. “Do you know if Andreas

  Italian, Bess?”

  “I think so. Her name sounds Italian. Why?”

  “The founder of Royal Chocolates changed his name

  to Castle. What if his original name was . . . Cassella?”

  Bess gasped. “Are you saying. . . ? Those rich

  relatives of Andrea's?”

  “The Castles?” George guessed.

  “Maybe,” Nancy said. “And maybe, when they

  weren't willing to take her calls about funding for the

  Sleuths, that made her angry.”

  “Angry enough to try to ruin their business?” George

  asked. “To crash the van and plan the allergy attack and

  make an extra instant-win wrapper?”

  “Anger doesn't seem like a very strong motivation to

  go to all that trouble,” Bess argued. “Besides, we don't

  have any proof—”

  “I know,” Nancy said. “I know it sounds crazy. But,

  Bess, I just realized. If Andrea really is related to

  Robert Castle, I think I know why she gave you the

  winning chocolate bar.”

  11. Theory of Relativity

  “Do you remember those documents Joyce had you

  sign?” Nancy asked Bess. “You had to swear you

  weren't related to any employees of Royal Chocolates.

  If you were, you'd be ineligible to win a prize in the

  contest.”

  “I get it,” George said. “That means if Andrea really

  is a Castle, she'd be disqualified if she tried to claim

  the grand prize.”

  “We know Andrea's desperate for money to keep the

  Science Sleuths going,” Nancy said. “Maybe she hoped

  the Castles would donate the money. When they

  refused to meet with her or even hear her out, maybe

  she decided to go to plan B.”

  Bess raised her eyebrows. “Plan B?”

  “You know,” George said. “Forge the winning

  wrapper, give it to you, drop a hint about donating

  some of the money back to the Sleuths, and hope that

  you'd be nice enough to do it.”

  “Okay,” Bess said, “I admit that that would explain

  the rubber cement. It would also explain why Andrea

  lied to us about where she got the chocolates. But it

  still doesn't convince me she could have forged a

  wrapper with the right instant-win code.”

  “I think I know how she did that, too.” George held

  up a hand when Bess frowned. “Just listen, okay? We

  know everybody thinks there's a Pleasant Candies spy

  at Royal. If Andrea really does have a grudge against

  her Castle relatives, what better way to get back at

  them? Royal's had a disastrous year financially. And a

  spy who infiltrated the company could have found out

  the instant-win code, right? If Andrea was working

  with that spy to begin with . . .”

  “That makes sense,” Bess admitted.

  “Whether Andrea's involved or not, I think we're on

  the right track.” Nancy flipped open her address book.

  “We've made a lot of educated guesses with very little

  actual evidence.
Proof is what we need now. And I

  think we'll find that when we find the Pleasant spy.”

  “Do you have any idea who the spy could be?” Bess

  nodded toward the book in Nancy's hands. “Is that who

  you're calling?”

  “I wish.” Nancy laughed. “Not only don't I know

  who it is, I don't know anything about the person. I

  don't know for sure that the spy was the one

  responsible for leaking the instant-win code. I don't

  know whether he or she knew Andrea, or Diana, or

  both. The only thing I do know is where to look for

  him—or her.”

  Bess inched forward in her chair. “You do?”

  “Well,” Nancy said, “the spy has to work for Royal

  Chocolates, right? We have a contact at Royal

  Chocolates: Joyce, who's also looking for this person. I

  say we pool our resources and see what we can find

  out.”

  Nancy picked up the phone and dialed Joyce's office

  number.

  “I'm glad to hear from you,” Joyce told Nancy when

  she picked up the phone. “Things are really tense

  around here. I hope you have some good news for me.”

  “Not exactly.” Nancy explained that she had not

  been able to speak with Andrea yet. Nor had they been

  able to visit the hospital because the van was in the

  shop and because Andrea was asleep every time she'd

  phoned.

  “What about Diana?” Joyce asked. “Did you dig up

  anything?”

  “Maybe. Just out of curiosity,” Nancy asked, “what

  did Diana tell you her occupation was?”

  “Publishing,” Joyce replied promptly. “Very

  interesting, I know. But if she got hold of the instant-

  win code, I don't know how. She doesn't have any

  connections to Royal that we can discover. I mean,

  besides her attempt to get work with us, which went

  nowhere.”

  “Wait a minute,” Nancy said. “Diana tried to get a

  job at Royal?”

  “Well, sort of. Her publishing company does

  promotional materials for a number of medium-size

  corporations. They tried to recruit us as new clients a

  few months ago. They do a nice job, but we have our

  own printers. Therefore, we had to decline her bid.”

  “How did she react?” Nancy asked.

  “Oh, fine. She went out and got herself hired

  immediately by Pleasant Candies. If you haven't

  noticed, Diana has a true love affair with chocolate.”

  “I've noticed,” Nancy said.