The Flower Show Fiasco

by Carolyn Keene

  A Confession

  When the Clue Crew arrived back at Le Chateau, the Grand Ballroom had been completely transformed. It looked like an enchanted forest, with tall trees lining the walls. Blooming bouquets decorated the circular dinner tables. A wooden dance floor had been put down over the carpet. Onstage, a six-piece band set up their instruments. The drummer played a few beats while the first of the guests filed in the front doors.

  “Where are they?” Nancy asked, glancing around the room. Jean-Claude’s famous mousse cake was on a table in the corner, surrounded by piles of cookies and éclairs. But there were no signs of the chef.

  “They must be in the kitchen . . . wherever that is,” Bess said. She glanced at the exits.

  “Unless they left,” George said. She looked scared at the thought.

  “I hope not.” Nancy pointed toward a side door. “I remember passing the kitchen before, when we were looking for the photographer. I think it’s over there. . . .”

  As the girls darted across the ballroom, they noticed Helene Flossenhammer fixing place cards on a table. She was half-hidden behind a giant vase of lilies. A few of the judges sat at another table, tallying up the scores. “We have to hurry,” Bess whispered. “The rest of the guests will be here soon, and then the judging will be officially over.”

  Nancy walked faster. She led the girls down a winding hallway and to a giant wooden door. At first they opened it just a crack. Jean-Claude stood at the sink with his assistant, a skinny boy with brown hair. Silver trays and plates were piled up beside them. There were cookie crumbs, dirty dishes, and pans everywhere. The boy washed a bowl. “How many times do I have to tell you, Pierre?” Jean-Claude said in a heavy accent. He held a foil wrapper in his hands. “Dark chocolate, not milk chocolate! Dark chocolate, not milk chocolate! How can I make my masterpieces if I don’t have the right supplies? That cake was only average!”

  Pierre stared at the bowl. He scrubbed it with a sponge, looking a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Jean-Claude,” he said quietly.

  “Sorry is not good enough. Perfection! That is what I need! Always perfection!” He crumpled the foil into a tight ball and threw it in the trash.

  Nancy, Bess, and George stood in the doorway. Nancy didn’t like seeing Pierre get yelled at, but she sure liked the jacket he was wearing. The two men couldn’t have looked more different. Jean-Claude had spiky gray hair. His face and hands were tan, as if he’d spent all summer in the sun. Pierre was much younger than Jean-Claude. He was tall and thin, with pale skin and dark brown hair. His shoulders were slumped forward.

  “It’s him,” Nancy said. She pointed to Pierre. “The man in the picture had dark brown hair. It was almost black.”

  Bess and George nodded. Before they could say anything else, Jean-Claude spotted them. “What are you children doing in my kitchen? We are one crème brûlée from being done today.”

  George looked at the floor. “We’re trying to find . . . roses.”

  Pierre bit his fingernail. He seemed nervous now that they had mentioned the missing flowers. “What would I know about roses?” Jean-Claude yelled. He waved his hands, signaling for them to leave. “Please! Enough wasting my time. Out of here.”

  Nancy cleared her throat. “We think your assistant may have taken roses that belong to our friend. They were prizewinning roses, some of the most valuable ones at the Garden Show today.”

  Jean-Claude turned to Pierre. Nancy couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Even if he did take the roses, Jean-Claude treated him worse than a misbehaving dog. The girls had been there only a few minutes, and Jean-Claude had been yelling the whole time. “We just want them back,” Nancy said.

  Pierre shook his head. “I don’t know what these kids are talking about.” But it was obvious he was lying. He wouldn’t look Nancy or her friends in the eye. His hands shook as he washed the bowl. Nancy knew he was the man from the photo . . . but how could she get him to admit it?

  “We have a picture of you taking them,” Bess said, braver than before.

  Jean-Claude narrowed his eyes at the girls. “How dare you come into my kitchen and accuse Jean-Claude! How dare you tell us we have stolen your roses!”

  “If you don’t know anything about the roses,” George said, “then what is that?” She pointed to a far corner of the room. A few peach rose petals and leaves were on the counter.

  Bess ran to the counter. “These are definitely them. They’re Miss Bouret’s all right!”

  Nancy clasped her hands together. “Please, we just need to know where they are.”

  Pierre let out a deep breath. Everyone watched him closely. He dropped the wet bowl in the sink and wiped his hands on his jacket. “Okay, okay, all right. I took them.” When he looked at Nancy, he seemed like he was about to cry. “But I can explain. I swear.”

  Bess held the peach petals in her hands. “You’re going to have to.”

  Pierre sat down on a stool. He put his head in his hands. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I really am. This morning I was supposed to stop at the florist to buy roses to decorate the desserts. We sometimes put flowers on the cakes or cupcakes. The only thing is . . . I forgot.”

  “You are always forgetting!” Jean-Claude yelled. He pounded the counter with his fist. “I cannot believe this. I told you—”

  “I know you told me three times,” Pierre went on. “But there was so much to do for the Garden Society Show that I forgot about the roses. And by the time I got here it was too late. I’d already made a mistake with a few of the ingredients. I didn’t want to make another. So while everyone was listening to the speeches, I snuck into the ballroom. I didn’t think it would matter if I took just one bunch of roses. But I was wrong.”

  Nancy shook her head. “Miss Bouret was panicked. Why didn’t you just tell her you’d taken them?”

  Pierre shrugged. “It wasn’t until after I used them that I realized they were hers. And then it felt like it was too late. I know it was a mistake. I’m so sorry.”

  Jean-Claude threw his arms up in the air. “It is too late for sorrys! This is such an embarrassment, Pierre.” He huffed about, tossing trays and dishes into the sink.

  Nancy looked at the clock on the wall. The gala would begin shortly. Maybe Jean-Claude was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t too late to fix things. “Where are the flowers now?” she asked. “Is there a way for Mimsy to show them to the judges?”

  Pierre’s face lit up. He looked better than he had since they’d shown up. “I hope so,” he said. “I can bring you to them now.”

  “We only have a few minutes until the gala begins,” Bess said. She pointed to the clock.

  Pierre pulled off his jacket and threw it on the counter. Then he headed for the door. “Come on, then,” he called. He waved for them to follow. “We’ll have to hurry.”

  The Perfect Rose

  When they returned to the Grand Ballroom, the clock struck eight o’clock. Guests were pouring into the front entrance, oohing and aahing over the beautiful decorations. Geraldine DeWitt wore a full-length evening gown and ten strands of pearls. Mimsy shuffled in behind her. She was dressed in a silk dress covered with tiny flowers, but she still seemed a little sad. She kept dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief.

  “What are you girls doing here?” she asked as she spotted Nancy and her friends.

  “You’re not going to believe this . . .” George waved for Mimsy to follow them. “But we found your roses!”

  As the band started a lively song, the judges stepped onstage. They were huddled with Helene Flossenhammer, showing her the tallies from their clipboards. “Wait!” Nancy called out to them. “We just need one more minute. There’s one late entry! Follow us!”

  The judges seemed puzzled. Slowly, they stepped down from the stage and walked after the girls. A small crowd formed around the girls, who were the youngest guests at the gala by at least forty years. Pierre pushed past them to the dessert table, with Jean-Claude trailing behind. “There they are,” Pi
erre said. “Do you think you can still use them?”

  “Where?” Bess asked. There were piles of éclairs on silver trays. Dishes of crème brûlée sat out. She could smell the burned sugar on top. But she didn’t see the flowers anywhere.

  “What happened? What do you mean you found them?” Mimsy asked. She looked worried. “They’re not here.”

  Pierre pointed to the five-tier mousse cake. There, on the very top of the chocolate frosting, was the cluster of peach roses. They were up so high Nancy hadn’t noticed them when she first glanced around the ballroom.

  “I can’t believe it.” George laughed. “We searched everywhere. They were hiding in plain sight.”

  Mimsy put her hand over her heart. “My little darlings! There they are! And they look just as good as they did this morning!” She grabbed one of the judges’ arms and pulled him closer to the dessert table. The man took out his clipboard and wrote down some notes. Soon the other two judges pushed beside him. One stood on a chair to get closer to the blooms.

  “They found my roses!” Mimsy called to a few of her friends. Mrs. Canter and Geraldine DeWitt both came over to see. Geraldine didn’t look happy. Her red lips were twisted into a sneer.

  “With not a minute to spare! What a relief,” Helene Flossenhammer said. “How in the world did they get on top of Jean-Claude’s cake?”

  Nancy and her friends turned to Pierre. His cheeks were bright red. “It was a misunderstanding,” Nancy said. The crowd looked confused, but she didn’t go on. Even if he’d done something wrong, she didn’t want to embarrass him in front of everyone. It was only when Helene finally walked away that Nancy and Pierre explained to Mimsy what happened.

  “I’m so sorry,” Pierre kept repeating. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Mimsy nodded. “I wish you’d told me the truth sooner. I was so upset. But that said . . . maybe this wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for Jean-Claude.”

  Jean-Claude straightened up at the mention of his name. “What does this have to do with me?” he asked.

  “If you would’ve been nicer to Pierre, he wouldn’t have been afraid to tell you what happened. You can’t just yell at everyone all the time.” She pointed a finger in Jean-Claude’s face. The pastry chef stomped his foot several times.

  “I will not explain myself. He is always forgetting what I tell him!” Jean-Claude yelled. Then he huffed off, slamming a side door behind him.

  Mimsy just shook her head. She was so excited, nothing could shake her good mood. “I can’t thank you enough,” she said. She gave Nancy, Bess, and George a big hug. “If it wasn’t for you, all my hard work would’ve been for nothing. You really saved the day.”

  Nancy smiled. “We’re so glad we could help.”

  “Another case solved,” Bess said.

  George was still laughing. “I can’t believe where we found them!”

  She was about to go on, but the band stopped playing. The judges walked back onto the stage. They said something to Helene and she followed them up, grabbing a basket of ribbons from the stairs. She tapped the microphone before speaking into it. “It’s now time to announce the winners. First place for the Tulip Garden goes to . . .”

  Nancy could barely listen. Helene went through the Tulip Garden winners, the Lilac Garden winners, and the Orchid Garden winners. She called out the winners of five other gardens before she got to the Rose Garden. She’d saved it for last.

  Third place went to a woman Nancy hadn’t heard of. She climbed the stairs to the stage and took her yellow ribbon. “And second place goes to . . . ,” Helene said. “Geraldine DeWitt!”

  “Could Miss Bouret have won?” George asked. Geraldine climbed onto the stage. Her face was serious as she took the red ribbon.

  The crowd was silent. Nancy squeezed Bess’s hand. She was so nervous. It was like she had entered the Garden Show herself. Finally Helene looked back down at the paper in her hands. She took a deep breath. “And first place goes to Mimsy Bouret!”

  Nancy cheered. People clapped as Mimsy took the stage. Helene passed her the blue ribbon. “Thank you,” Mimsy said into the microphone. “And thank you, Nancy Drew, Bess Marvin, and George Fayne. I owe it all to you.”

  Nancy and her friends smiled. It felt good to see Mimsy so happy, and to know that they had helped make her day special. By solving the mystery of the missing roses, the Clue Crew had helped Mimsy finally get the ribbon she deserved.

  “I know winning isn’t everything,” Bess said. “But it sure feels good sometimes.”

  Nancy watched Mimsy take a bow. She was smiling so much her cheeks hurt. “Definitely,” she agreed.

  FLOWER POWER

  Nancy, Bess, and George spent all day looking at beautiful roses, tulips, and lilies. Now you can turn an ordinary pen into a pretty bloom with these easy steps.

  You Will Need:

  • Basic blue or black pens, without the caps

  • Green floral tape

  • Fake flowers

  Optional:

  • A small terra-cotta planter (no bigger than 6 inches across)

  • Paint and paintbrushes

  • A cup of small stones (the size of coins)

  Directions

  • Step 1: Choose one flower and one pen.

  • Step 2: Hold the pen so the tip points down. Place the fake flower against the pen, so the stem runs along its side. (The bloom should hang over the top of the pen.)

  • Step 3: Using the floral tape, tape the top of the stem to the top of the pen.

  • Step 4: Wrap the floral tape around the pen from top to bottom. Be sure to cover the flower’s stem with the tape.

  • Step 5: When you reach the bottom of the pen, cut or rip the tape. Secure the end and voilà! You have a beautiful blooming pen.

  If you make several pens, you may want to make a “planter” to hold them in. This is the perfect way to create a colorful, fun (and fake) bouquet.

  • Step 1: Paint your terra-cotta planter with any pattern or design you like.

  • Step 2: Fill the planter with small stones.

  • Step 3: “Plant” your flower pens in the pot. They’ll be waiting for you the next time you need them.

  join the CLUE CREW & solve these other cases!

  #1 Sleepover Sleuths

  #2 Scream for Ice Cream

  #3 Pony Problems

  #4 The Cinderella Ballet Mystery

  #5 Case of the Sneaky Snowman

  #6 The Fashion Disaster

  #7 The Circus Scare

  #8 Lights, Camera . . . Cats!

  #9 The Halloween Hoax

  #10 Ticket Trouble

  #11 Ski School Sneak

  #12 Valentine’s Day Secret

  #13 Chick-napped!

  #14 The Zoo Crew

  #15 Mall Madness

  #16 Thanksgiving Thief

  #17 Wedding Day Disaster

  #18 Earth Day Escapade

  #19 April Fool’s Day

  #20 Treasure Trouble

  #21 Double Take

  #22 Unicorn Uproar

  #23 Babysitting Bandit

  #24 Princess Mix-up Mystery

  #25 Buggy Breakout

  #26 Camp Creepy

  #27 Cat Burglar Caper

  #28 Time Thief

  #29 Designed for Disaster

  #30 Dance off

  #31 Make-a-Pet Mystery

  #32 Cape Mermaid Mystery

  #33 The Pumpkin Patch Puzzle

  #34 Cupcake Chaos

  #35 Cooking Camp Disaster

  #36 The Secret of the Scarecrow

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ALADDIN

  An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division

  1230 Av
enue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  First Aladdin paperback edition March 2014

  Text copyright © 2014 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  Illustrations copyright © 2014 by Macky Pamintuan

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  ALADDIN and related logo, NANCY DREW, and NANCY DREW AND THE CLUE CREW are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

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  Designed by Karina Granda

  The text of this book was set in ITC Stone Informal.

  Library of Congress Control Number 2013948652

  ISBN 978-1-4424-8668-3

  ISBN 978-1-4424-8669-0 (eBook)