“So where do we go from here?” Joyce asked.
“Well, I was thinking we might try a new approach,”
Nancy said. “And I was hoping you might be able to
help me.”
“Anything I can do,” Joyce said. “Any ideas would be
greatly appreciated.”
“I want to try to find the corporate spy,” Nancy said.
“What? I mean, so do I. But what does that have to
do with the instant-win contest?”
“I think it's possible that the spy leaked the instant-
win code to the person who printed the fake wrapper. I
know it sounds far-fetched, and I could be completely
wrong, but it's important to find the spy regardless,
right?”
“Right,” Joyce agreed. “So how do you propose that
we do that?”
“I was hoping you could give me access to official
Royal files. Personnel records, et cetera.”
Joyce hesitated. “If my bosses found out, I'd be
fired. In fact, Mr. Tumey reminded me when we
discussed asking for your help that our files are strictly
confidential.”
“I understand,” Nancy said, disappointed.
“No,” Joyce said. “Nancy, I'm desperate to get to the
truth. At this point, I don't care about bending the
rules or even breaking them. If you think it'll work, I
say go for it.”
“Are you sure? I don't want to jeopardize your job.”
“It's already in jeopardy,” Joyce said. “Look, there's
an end-of-season dinner tomorrow night, a sort of
thank-you to the employees. Everyone will be there,
and the office will be deserted. I'll let you in then. No
one should find out. It'll be fine. Okay?”
“Okay,” Nancy agreed. “If you say so. Thanks.”
“Thank you,” Joyce said. “Try to get some sleep, and
enjoy your day tomorrow.”
Sleep. Not a bad idea, Nancy thought. Her eyes
hurt, her feet hurt, her brain hurt. As soon as she
returned from dinner, she changed into her pajamas
and crawled under the cool, white sheets.
The next thing she knew, George was showering
after her morning jog. Even Bess was awake and
munching a chocolate croissant.
“I checked on the Sleuths. They're all sleeping.
They're exhausted,” Bess informed Nancy. “Just like
us.”
George toweled off her hair as she emerged from
the bathroom. “What's on the agenda for today?”
“Andrea might get out of the hospital,” Bess said.
“The van might get fixed. We might go home.”
“I'm not going home,” Nancy said. “I've got big
plans tonight. But I hope you can.”
Bess looked at the clock. “I guess it's still too early to
call the garage.”
Nancy nodded. “I think,” she said, “I'm going back
to the computer lab. Do you know how they have all
those family trees online? Maybe I can figure out
whether Andrea really is related to the Castle family.”
There was a knock on the door.
Bess rolled her eyes. “Here we go again. At your
service,” she called as she flung open the door.
“Andrea!” she exclaimed.
“May I come in?”
Nancy could see that Andrea's face was drawn and
pale.
“Of course.” Bess moved aside to let her pass.
“Please. Sit down. How are you? How did you get
here?”
“I took a taxi,” Andrea replied. “And I'm feeling
better. Or at least I was, until I heard what you were
saying just now.”
Bess looked perplexed. “What?”
“About me. Why are you checking up on me behind
my back? If you have a question, I wish you'd ask me to
my face.”
“I'm sorry, Andrea,” Nancy said. “We've developed
some pressing questions in the last day, and you
haven't been available to answer them. Frankly, we had
reason to doubt that you'd answer them truthfully.”
Andrea leaned back against the pillow. “I'm sorry
you've come to that conclusion. May I ask why?”
Nancy explained what had happened in her meeting
with Mr. Castle the day before. She told Andrea about
the lab finding rubber cement on Bess's wrapper, the
realization that Andrea had apparently lied about
where she bought the chocolates and finally the
tombstone Kenny had found in the haunted house that
led Nancy to think Andrea might be related to the
Castles.
“You're right,” Andrea said simply.
“I'm right?” Nancy repeated.
“I'm related to the Castles. If you can call it a
relationship.”
“I don't understand, Andrea,” Bess said. “Why didn't
you tell us?”
“I didn't think it was any of your business. I didn't
want anyone to know. It was a mistake.” Andrea's voice
was low. “I'm sorry.”
“All right.” Bess reached out and took her hand.
“But tell us now. Please tell us what's going on.
“Okay.” Andrea nodded. “Remember hearing the
story of poor Robert Castle, the immigrant who
founded Royal Chocolates? Well, Joyce left out some
important information. His real name was Roberto
Cassella, and he didn't start Royal Chocolates by
himself. The whole thing was his brother's idea. Sal
Cassella. My grandfather. But then they had some sort
of disagreement. My great-uncle disowned his brother
and changed his name. Somehow, he wound up with
the company, all the money, everything.”
“Wow,” Bess said. “That's terrible.”
“I'm not surprised about that tombstone Kenny
found. It was probably an inside joke. Robert Castle,
Senior, was determined to bury his identity as a
Cassella. He didn't want any of us getting our hands on
his money. Ever.”
“But aren't you entitled to it?” Bess asked. “I mean,
if your grandfather helped found the company . . .”
Andrea shook her head. “I'm related to the Castles
by blood, but that's all. Robert Castle arranged things
legally so that the Cassellas wouldn't have any claims
on Royal Chocolates. By law, it's as though we're not
even family.”
“That's awful,” George said. “Can't you do anything
about it?”
Andrea closed her eyes. “I don't care. I really don't
care, George. It's been this way all my life. I just
wanted the right to apply for an educational grant for
the Sleuths, the same way anyone else could apply. But
when I tried, they wouldn't let me. They wouldn't even
talk to me.”
“Why?” Nancy asked. “Why would they be so
unfair?”
“I wish I knew,” Andrea said. “Poor Joyce—I know
she felt sorry for me by the third time I called. She did
what she could. She offered a discounted rate for our
trip to the park—a consolation, I guess. She even
mailed me some chocolate bars.” Andrea propped
herself up on her elbows. “This is the part you're
waiting to hear. One of th
ose bars was the winning one.
The grand prize wrapper.”
“Oh.” Bess reacted as this sank in. “Oh! My
wrapper.”
“I was so shocked when I saw it,” Andrea said. “I
actually thought maybe it was Joyce's secret way of
helping me with the Sleuths' finances. Then I realized
that was ridiculous. It would be illegal to tamper with
the outcome of the contest. Anyhow, I wasn't even
eligible to claim the prize because of my relation to the
Castles. Pretty ironic, if you ask me, since they won't
have anything to do with me.”
“That's when you decided to glue the wrapper back
on and give it to Bess,” George said.
“That's right,” Andrea confirmed. “And I really did
buy all the other chocolates at the park that first day we
were here. I never thought that would wind up being
an issue. I'm not very good at lying. Obviously, I don't
have much practice.”
“But why didn't you tell us what was going on?” Bess
asked.
“I didn't want to get you mixed up in it,” Andrea
explained. “I was relying on your basic human decency,
Bess. I was pretty sure I could count on you to do the
right thing and contribute some of the money back to
the Sleuths.” Andrea looked Bess in the eye. “And you
did. It would have worked, if it weren't for one thing:
Diana had already claimed the prize.”
“This is all starting to make sense now,” Nancy said
slowly. “Except if yours is the real winning wrapper,
where did Diana get hers? And why has she been
spying on us since we got here?”
“I have no idea about any of that.” Andrea's eyes
went from Bess to George to Nancy. “I'm sorry for
misleading you. I hope you believe me.”
“So you're saying the van accident and the peanut
butter accident—they were accidents?” George asked.
Before Andrea could respond, there was another
knock at the door.
Laura bounced into the room as soon as Bess
cracked open the door. “We're on TV!” she announced.
Nancy flipped on the television set, and Laura
changed the channel until she found the local morning
news. They were running a story about the Royal
Chocolates contest.
Diana's picture flashed across the screen.
“Hey,” George said a moment later. “There you are,
Bess.”
Bess's cheeks turned red. “That's a terrible picture.
Where did they get that?”
“Where did they get the story, period?” Nancy
murmured.
“Shh,” Andrea said. She was listening intently.
The program cut to a shot of a reporter standing at
the entrance to the Kings Commons parking lot.
“Could you offer an official comment about the
Crown Jewels contest controversy, Mr. Tumey?”
There was a close-up of John Tumey, his irritated
scowl filling the screen.
“No comment,” he growled.
The camera pulled back to show his car pulling away
from the gate. Nancy's heart pounded when she saw
the shot. Mr. Tumey was driving a midsize white car.
“Hey,” Laura said. “That looks like the car that ran
us off the road at Jungle Kingdom!”
12. News Flash
Nancy squinted at the tiny picture on the television
screen. “That's a common enough automobile model.
But you're right, Laura. It looks like the car that ran us
off the road.”
Laura finally took her eyes off the TV and noticed
her surroundings. “Andrea!” she exclaimed. “You're
back. Are you okay?”
“I'm fine,” Andrea assured her. “And very glad to be
here, too.”
Laura grabbed Andrea's hand and pulled her off the
bed. “Come on. Come say hi to everybody. They'll all
want to see you. We were so worried. Are we going
home today?”
Even after Bess closed the door, Nancy could hear
their chatter all the way down the hall.
“I'd sure like to know how I wound up on the news,”
Bess said. “Hey—you know what? Maybe that person
who called Hannah really was a reporter, Nan. Maybe
she was working on the story we just saw. Do you think
that's who was looking us up in the Royal computer
lab?”
“I doubt it,” George said. “Why would the reporter
use the computers here? She must have the Internet at
the TV station.”
“She obviously came here to work on her story,”
Bess pointed out. “We just saw her on TV, standing in
front of the chocolate factory. Maybe she had some
down time while she was here and decided to put it to
good use.”
“I'm more concerned with where she got the story
idea,” Nancy said. “We know nobody from Royal talked
to the press in an official capacity. They were trying
their hardest to keep the wrapper mix-up quiet. Joyce
said Diana doesn't even know about the problems with
the contest.”
“I guess she knows now,” George observed. “It's
going to be all over the news.”
“That's true.” Nancy muted the TV with the remote
control.
“I don't get it,” Bess said. “Who could have leaked
the story?”
“Besides the corporate spy,” Nancy said, “there's
only one other person I know of with a motive to make
things rough for Royal.”
“Andrea?” George guessed.
“Wait,” Bess said. “Andrea wouldn't do something
like that.”
“I'd like to believe that, Bess,” Nancy said. “I
sympathize with her situation, and I'm glad she finally
came clean with us. But did she tell the whole truth?
We can't be sure, can we?”
Bess sighed. “I like Andrea. She's trying to do a good
thing.”
“I agree,” Nancy said. “I like her, too. I just can't
forget Mr. Castle's face when he heard me mention
Andrea's name. I know he thought she staged her
accidents to give Royal a bad rap. And when you
combine those accidents with this news leak, I'm sorry.
I have to wonder.”
“But what about the Pleasant spy?” Bess asked.
Nancy nodded. “I know. It's possible that a high-
level Royal employee is the corporate spy. If so, that
person would be aware of the problems with the
instant-win contest. Maybe he or she decided to leak
that information to the press to give Royal a bad name.
If too many people lost faith in Royal they would stop
buying Royal products, and the business would really
suffer. I'm sure that even Royal's instant-win contests
would become less effective at attracting new
customers. Their stock prices would go down, and
Pleasant would find itself a big winner.”
“I bet it's that nasty Mr. Tumey,” Bess suggested. “I
bet he's the spy.”
“That thought crossed my mind,” Nancy said.
“Besides Joyce, he's the only person who knows I'm<
br />
working on this case. I know we don't have proof that
the car that ran us off the road was his. But if it was,
maybe he was trying to scare us off the case before we
figured out who the spy was.”
Bess had begun pacing. “So what are you going to do
next, Nan?”
The phone rang.
Nancy held up her hand. “Answer the phone.”
The caller was from the auto repair shop. He said
the van was fixed and could be picked up whenever
they were ready.
“Yes!” Andrea said with feeling when she returned
to the room. “We can all go home this afternoon.”
“That's great.” Nancy replaced the receiver. “But I
can't go with you.”
“Why not?” Andrea's voice cracked.
“I need to spend another night at the park. There's
something I have to take care of before I leave.”
Andrea bit her lip. “So you're going to leave us short
one chaperon?”
“We'll manage,” George said cheerfully. “We've
managed so far, right?”
“I guess.” Andrea stared at the floor.
Nancy knew Andrea wanted to know what Nancy's
plans for tonight were. Nancy just didn't feel
comfortable giving away any information about the
investigation. She hoped Joyce's files would give her
the evidence she needed to identify the spy, and to get
to the bottom of the instant-win mystery. More than
anything, she hoped they would be able to prove that
Andrea was telling them the truth.
“I'll let you pack.” Andrea excused herself. “I'm
going to take a cab to pick up the van. I guess I'll be
paying for it with more money I don't have. I'll see you
later.”
“Hopefully, she will have that money the next time I
see her,” Nancy said after Andrea had left.
“I'm keeping my fingers crossed,” Bess said.
George tossed a pile of clothes in Bess's direction.
“If we're going to leave today, you'd better start
packing. It might take several hours.”
Bess dragged both her suitcases out of the closet.
“Let's not forget, I'm the one who brought the blazer.
It came in handy, didn't it?”
“I see it's the only thing actually left on a hanger. I
guess that's because Nancy's the one who took care of
it.”
“Do you think you could argue quietly?” Nancy
teased them. “I need to make a phone call.”
While Bess and George packed, Nancy phoned the
news station that had aired the instant-win story. She
The Chocolate-Covered Contest Page 8