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The Singing Suspects

Carolyn Keene




  Contents

  Chapter 1: Rule of Cool!

  Chapter 2: Rock-’n’-Shock!

  Chapter 3: Sunglass Case

  Chapter 4: Cyber Clue!

  Chapter 5: Sour Power!

  Chapter 6: Flips and Tips!

  Chapter 7: Clues-Paper!

  Chapter 8: Spy Girlz Surprise!

  1

  Rule of Cool!

  We’re on the case,” eight-year-old Nancy Drew sang. She was holding the handle of a jump rope like a microphone. “So we’re in your face!”

  George Fayne and her cousin Bess Marvin stood on either side of Nancy. They held pinecones in front of their mouths and sang along: “We’re the Spy Girlz!”

  Nancy, Bess, and George were best friends. But this summer they were even more. They were a singing group. Today they were in the park, practicing for a big contest on Saturday!

  The contest was part of the River Heights Summer Celebration hosted by Mayor Stone. It was just for kids.

  The name of Nancy’s group was the Spy Girlz. That’s because Nancy was the best kid detective in River Heights. She even had a blue detective notebook where she wrote down all her suspects and clues when she was working on a case.

  “We’re the Spy Girlz!” the friends sang again. They dropped down on their knees and shouted, “And we’re watching you!”

  Riley McArthur cheered as Nancy, George, and Bess bowed. Riley was in the girls’ third-grade class at Carl Sandberg Elementary School.

  “Can you take me with you to the Eric Stanley concert?” Riley asked. “Please?”

  Nancy smiled. “Only the contest winners get tickets to Eric’s concert,” she said. “And we haven’t won yet.”

  “Eric Stanley!” Bess swooned. She grabbed her heart and fell on the grass.

  Eric was the girls’ favorite teen singer. He had brown hair and brown eyes and a new song called “Rock My Socks!”

  “What if we don’t win?” Bess asked. “Look at all the kids we’re up against!”

  She pointed to the others practicing in the park. Their friends Rebecca Ramirez, Molly Angelo, and Amara Shane had a group called the Girly Girls. Jason Hutchings, David Berger, and Mike Minelli called themselves Bad Newz.

  “They’re pretty good,” Riley admitted. “But you guys are the coolest!”

  George shook her head. “We may sound cool,” she said. “But we don’t look cool.”

  “What?” Nancy asked with surprise. “But I’m wearing my cool new jeans!”

  “And I’ve got pink glitter on my sandals!” Bess said. “Isn’t that cool?”

  “If you’re Tinkerbell,” George said. She looked around the park. “Something is missing. We should look more like . . . them!”

  George pointed at the stage. A group called Triple T was practicing. Triple T stood for the eight-year-old Tuttle triplets—Darly, Marly, and Carly. The triplets went to a special school for kid performers in the town next to River Heights.

  “We’re three times the groove,” the triplets sang. “So let’s busta move!”

  “Wow!” Bess said. “They’re singing and doing cartwheels at the same time!”

  “Their gum didn’t fall out of their mouths either!” George said. “How do they do that?”

  Nancy and her friends watched the triplets sing and dance on stage. A whole crowd of people had stopped to watch too.

  “They might as well be famous already,” Nancy said.

  “Thanks to their mom,” George said. “She’s here every day handing out Triple T pictures, pencils, and buttons.”

  Nancy looked over at Mrs. Tuttle. She wore a tank top, hot pink pants, and high heels. Today she was handing out Triple T balloons!

  “The girls will be signing the balloons after practice,” Mrs. Tuttle called out. “No pictures, please. Unless you’re from a magazine or a newspaper.”

  Jason, David, and Mike walked past the girls. Mike dropped a Popsicle wrapper on the ground and kept on walking.

  “Litterbugs!” Bess called after them. “No wonder you’re called Bad Newz!”

  “Blah, blah, blah!” Jason sneered.

  Nancy glanced down at the wrapper. There was a picture of the triplets on it, and the words KEEP COOL WITH TRIPLE T!

  “Maybe George is right,” Nancy sighed. “Maybe we’re not as cool as they are.”

  “Maybe we’re lukewarm,” Bess said.

  “What can we do to make ourselves cooler?” George asked. “Stick on tattoos? How about hot pink streaks in our hair?”

  “Forget the tattoos and the pink streaks,” Riley said. “I have something that will make you so cool, you’ll turn hot chocolate into chocolate ice cream!”

  Riley waved the girls behind a tree trunk. They watched as she pulled a pair of black sunglasses from her fanny pack.

  “Sunglasses?” Nancy asked.

  “Not just any sunglasses, Nancy,” Riley said. “These sunglasses once belonged to . . . Eric Stanley!”

  Nancy, Bess, and George stared at Riley. Then they began to shriek.

  “Eric Stanley?” Nancy exclaimed. “Where did you get them? Where? Where?”

  “Eric came to a mall in my old neighborhood a few months ago,” Riley explained. “To sign his new CD.”

  “You saw him?” Bess gasped.

  “Eric forgot his sunglasses on the table when he left,” Riley went on. “So I took them. And the rest is rock history!”

  Riley handed the sunglasses to Nancy. Nancy couldn’t believe she was holding Eric Stanley’s sunglasses. They had a silver S painted on the side, and a long scratch across the right lens.

  “The S is for Stanley,” Riley said. “The scratch was there when I found them.”

  “Are you going to send them back to Eric?” Nancy asked.

  “Eric probably has a zillion sunglasses,” Riley said. “Besides . . . finders keepers, losers weepers!”

  George turned to Nancy and Bess. “Wait until we tell the world we have Eric’s sunglasses!” she said excitedly.

  “Don’t tell anyone!” Riley pleaded. “Then everyone will want them. Especially that fourth grader, Mindy ‘Nosy’ Spinoza!”

  Mindy was president of her own Eric Stanley fan club. Nancy, Bess, and George wanted to join . . . until they found out they had to spit on their hands and high-five at every meeting!

  “What fun is having Eric’s sunglasses if we can’t tell anyone?” Bess asked.

  But Nancy didn’t want to worry Riley. “We won’t tell if you don’t want us to, Riley,” she said. “And we promise to take good care of the sunglasses too.”

  “Good!” Riley sighed with relief.

  Nancy, Bess, and George left the park. Riley stayed behind to jump rope.

  As the girls walked up Main Street they took turns wearing the sunglasses.

  “They feel big on me,” Nancy said.

  “I can make them tighter,” Bess said, her blue eyes shining. “I can fix anything!”

  “Sure,” George teased. “As long as you don’t get your clothes dirty!”

  Suddenly a voice called out, “Get your lemonade here! Ice-cold lemonade!”

  Nancy saw Andrew Leoni. Their classmate was sitting behind a small table. On top were a lemonade pitcher and a stack of small blue cups.

  “Hi, Andrew,” Nancy said as they walked over. “How many cups have you sold?”

  “Zero! Zip! Zilch!” Andrew said. He threw up his hands. “I’ll never get to buy a new skateboard at this rate!”

  Andrew leaned back and sighed. “Why doesn’t anyone want to buy my lemonade?”

  “Maybe because there’s a dead bug floating in it?” George asked.

  “Whoops!” Andrew said. He scooped it out and flicked it aside. Then he smiled and asked, “Would
you guys like some?”

  “Eww! I don’t think so,” Nancy said. As she shook her head, Eric’s sunglasses fell off. They landed on Andrew’s table.

  Andrew picked them up and said, “Cool shades. What does the S stand for?”

  “It stands for Stan—,” Bess began.

  George clapped her hand over Bess’s mouth. “For Spy Girlz!” she blurted out.

  Nancy put the sunglasses back on. Suddenly she heard voices. They were singing: “We love you, Eric! Oh, yes we do. We don’t love anyone as much as yoooou!”

  “Great,” George groaned. “It’s Mindy ‘Nosy’ Spinoza. And her whole fan club!”

  Mindy and seven other girls walked over. They were all wearing Eric Stanley T-shirts and hats. The littlest girl was Mindy’s five-year-old sister, Ella. She was wearing Eric Stanley socks!

  “Lemonade!” one of the girls cried. “That’s Eric’s favorite drink. Let’s get some!”

  As they walked closer Mindy began staring at Nancy. She stopped walking and began shouting, “Ohmigosh! Ohmigosh! She’s wearing Eric Stanley’s sunglasses!”

  Nancy stared at her friends.

  Oh, no! she thought. How does she know?

  2

  Rock-’n’-Shock!

  How do you know they’re Eric’s sunglasses, Mindy?” George asked.

  Mindy rolled her dark eyes. “Do I not have Eric Stanley Fan Club meetings in my clubhouse every other day?” she asked. “Do I not have all of Eric’s CDs, towels, and bed sheets too?”

  “And those are the sunglasses that Eric wears in our favorite poster!” said one of the girls. She had on Eric Stanley earrings. “They have a silver S on them. And a big scratch. Just like those have.”

  Andrew leaned over and whispered, “I’d believe them if I were you.”

  Nancy was worried. They’d promised Riley they would keep the sunglasses a secret. But how could they keep it a secret from the Eric Stanley Fan Club?

  “Okay, what do you want for them?” Mindy asked. “We’ll give you a wad of gum that Eric chewed. And spit out.”

  “Eww!” Bess cried.

  “That’s totally gross!” George said.

  “Thanks, Mindy,” Nancy said with a smile. “We want to keep the sunglasses.”

  Mindy narrowed her eyes. But then she shrugged and said, “Who needs the sunglasses anyway? We have a real dollar bill that Eric signed just for us!”

  “Here it is, here it is!” Ella said. She pulled a dollar bill from her pink plastic backpack and held it up.

  “Wow!” Bess said as they looked at it. “Eric Stanley did sign it!”

  “Give me a break!” Andrew said. “Do you want lemonade or not? I’ll give you eight cups for just a dollar!”

  “We’ll take it,” Mindy said. She didn’t take her eyes off Nancy. “Give them a dollar, Ella.”

  “Okay, Mindy!” Ella said.

  Mindy tilted her head as she looked at Nancy, Bess, and George. “Aren’t you guys in the singing contest?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Nancy said. “We’re called the Spy Girlz. We’re practicing tomorrow.”

  Mindy and the fan club left with their cups of lemonade. Andrew stuffed the dollar bill into his shirt pocket.

  “Thirty dollars to go for the skateboard.” Andrew sighed. “If those sunglasses were mine, I’d take them straight to the Rock On Café!”

  “How come?” Nancy asked.

  “The Rock On Café has tons of rock-’n’-roll souvenirs!” Andrew said. “They’d pay money for Eric’s sunglasses for sure!”

  “That’s nice,” Nancy said. “But these sunglasses are not for sale!”

  The girls left Andrew and began walking to their houses.

  “I can’t wait to practice in the park tomorrow,” Bess said.

  “We have the moves”—George did a little dance step—“and the grooves!”

  “And Eric Stanley’s sunglasses!” Nancy said happily. “Triple T, watch out!”

  Nancy skipped all the way home. She went straight to the kitchen and saw Hannah Gruen placing a sandwich on the table. Hannah was the Drews’ housekeeper. She had been helping take care of Nancy since Nancy was three years old.

  “How do you like my new sunglasses, Hannah?” Nancy asked. “Aren’t they neat?”

  “They’ll be neater once I clean those smudges on the lenses,” Hannah said.

  “You can’t clean them, Hannah!” Nancy gasped. She took the sunglasses off and placed them carefully on the table. “Those smudges were made by Eric Stanley!”

  Nancy’s Labrador puppy, Chocolate Chip, padded into the kitchen. She nuzzled her nose against Nancy’s knee.

  “When I was your age my favorite singer was Elvis Presley,” Hannah said. “He sang a great song called ‘Hound Dog’!”

  “‘Hound Dog’?” Nancy said. She smiled down at her own dog. “I bet you’d like Elvis too, Chip!”

  Chip barked just as the telephone rang. Nancy hurried to answer it.

  “Hello?” Nancy asked.

  “How are my sunglasses?” Riley’s voice asked. “Your dog didn’t lick them, did she? You didn’t drop them, did you?”

  “They’re fine, Riley,” Nancy said into the phone. “What’s up?”

  “I’m visiting my grandparents’ farm for a few days,” Riley said. “But I’ll be back on Saturday for the contest.”

  “Cool!” Nancy said. “You’ll get to see me sing with Eric’s sunglasses on.”

  “Take good care of them, Nancy,” Riley’s voice pleaded. “Don’t wear them if you chew bubble gum. The bubbles might burst and stick all over the lenses.”

  “I won’t,” Nancy promised.

  “And don’t wear them if you do cartwheels,” Riley said. “Or hang upside down on the monkey bars!”

  “Don’t worry, Riley!” Nancy said. “I’ll take very good care of them!”

  Nancy hung up the phone. Then she turned around and saw Chip. Her puppy had jumped onto a chair and was sniffing the sunglasses on the table!

  “Don’t even think of chewing those sunglasses, Chip!” Nancy warned. “Those sunglasses mean more to Riley than I ever thought.”

  • • •

  “Did you wear the sunglasses to sleep last night, Nancy?” Bess asked the next day. “Did you dream about Eric?”

  “I didn’t wear them to sleep,” Nancy said. “But Eric was in my dream anyway!”

  It was Thursday. Nancy, Bess, and George were in the park getting ready to practice. They were about to walk toward the stage when suddenly a boy’s voice shouted, “Out of my way! Out of my way!”

  The girls turned. Their classmate, Orson Wong, was being pulled down the path by six big dogs on leashes!

  “It’s my summer job!” Orson shouted. “I’m walking dogs for fifty cents apiece!”

  “You mean they’re walking you!” Bess giggled.

  Andrew was in the park too. He was selling lemonade to a tall man with silver hair. Nancy recognized the man.

  “It’s Mayor Stone!” Nancy said.

  “He better not find any bugs in his lemonade!” George snickered.

  The girls walked over to the stage. Mrs. Tuttle was standing near it. She was talking loudly and shaking her finger at Jennifer Butcher. Miss Butcher was the dark-haired director of the singing contest.

  “What do you mean Triple T can’t practice first?” Mrs. Tuttle was demanding. “My girls are ready. See?”

  She pointed to the triplets. They had formed a three-girl pyramid on the grass.

  “We’re not ready for them, Mrs. Tuttle,” Miss Butcher said. “Spy Girlz is scheduled to practice first, at twelve noon.”

  “Spy Girlz are good,” Mrs. Tuttle said. “But not as good as my superstars!”

  Darly sneezed from the top of the pyramid. All three girls fell in a heap!

  “That’s got to hurt,” Nancy whispered. “Let’s go over and say hi.”

  As they walked over, Mrs. Tuttle handed water bottles to the triplets. The bottles had Triple T
labels on them!

  “Wow!” Carly said. She pointed to Nancy. “Those are the coolest sunglasses!”

  “Where’d you get them?” Marly asked.

  Nancy gulped. “Um—”

  “They’re our lucky sunglasses,” George blurted out. “We can’t sing unless one of us wears them.”

  “Really?” Mrs. Tuttle asked slowly. Then she smiled at the triplets and said, “Darly, Carly, Marly, mother has a plan!”

  What plan? Nancy wondered as Mrs. Tuttle whisked her daughters away.

  Miss Butcher’s voice interrupted Nancy’s thoughts. “Time to rock, Spy Girlz!” she called.

  The three friends hurried onto the stage. George handed Miss Butcher the CD of their song. She popped it into a CD player and the music began to play.

  “We’re the Spy Girlz!” Nancy sang out. But each time she did a dance step, the sunglasses slipped down her nose!

  I’d better take them off, Nancy thought. Before they fall off and break!

  Nancy finished singing the song, keeping one hand on the glasses so they would not slip. Then she walked to the side of the stage. First she made sure the surface was clean. Then she carefully placed the sunglasses down on the stage.

  “Let’s run through the song one more time, girls,” Miss Butcher called.

  The music played. This time George did a cartwheel in the middle of the song.

  “Best practice yet, girls,” Miss Butcher said when they were done performing. “Good job!”

  “Maybe Eric’s sunglasses are good luck!” Bess whispered.

  “The sunglasses!” Nancy remembered. She ran to the side of the stage. But when she looked down, she froze.

  “Bess, George!” Nancy cried. “Eric Stanley’s sunglasses . . . are gone!”

  3

  Sunglass Case

  Gone?” Bess gasped.

  “Are you sure?” George asked.

  Nancy brushed aside her reddish blond bangs to get a closer look. All she saw was a wet, ringlike stain.

  “Maybe they fell off the stage,” George said. “Let’s check it out.”

  The girls jumped off the stage and looked around. There were no sunglasses!

  “Maybe they fell under the stage,” Bess said. She turned to her cousin. “Go ahead, George. Crawl underneath and look.”