The Snowman Surprise, Page 2

  The sun was starting to set in the sky. “Okay, time for chili,” Nancy announced, rubbing the snow off her mittens.

  “Chili?” George asked her.

  “Remember, you’re coming over for dinner tonight? My dad is making chili!” Nancy explained.

  Just then, Nancy noticed someone standing nearby. Someone with red hair.

  It was Joan. She was videotaping the girls and their three swan sculptures and talking quietly into her microphone.

  • • •

  “Pass the cheese, please!” Nancy said.

  “Pass the sour cream, please!” George added.

  “Pass the hot sauce, please!” Bess chimed in.

  “Hot sauce? Didn’t I make the chili spicy enough for you girls?” Carson Drew joked.

  Hannah took a bite of the chili and made a face. “Whew! It’s definitely hot enough for me!” she said, fanning her mouth and laughing.

  Mr. Drew turned to Nancy. “So how is your sculpture contest going, Pudding Pie?” he asked her. Pudding Pie was his special nickname for Nancy.

  “Okay, except for one teeny, weeny thing,” Nancy replied.

  “It has to do with hot chocolate,” George offered.

  “And bunny-shaped marshmallows,” Bess added.

  “Hot chocolate? And bunny-shaped marshmallows? My, this sounds like a mystery,” Mr. Drew remarked.

  “It is! Sort of,” Nancy replied.

  She told her father and Hannah about their ruined sketch. When she was done, Mr. Drew said, “Hmm. Any suspects?”

  “We hadn’t thought about that,” Nancy replied.

  “Well, maybe it’s time to start a new entry in your blue detective notebook, then,” Carson suggested with a twinkle in his eye.

  Nancy’s face lit up. “Good idea, Daddy!”

  After dinner, Nancy ran upstairs to get her detective notebook. Her father had given it to her a while ago, when she solved her first case. She used it to keep track of suspects and clues whenever she solved a mystery.

  And this was a mystery. Someone had ruined their sketch. But who? And why?

  Nancy, Bess, and George sat down in front of the fireplace in the living room with Nancy’s notebook. Nancy’s puppy, Chocolate Chip, lay asleep nearby. The fire felt warm and toasty. Outside, it had begun to snow lightly.

  Nancy opened her notebook to a clean page. “Can anyone think of any suspects?” she asked her friends.

  “Denise,” Bess said immediately. “She was really mad about us making a Swan Lake sculpture, remember? Maybe she was mad enough to pour hot chocolate all over our brilliant sketch.”

  Nancy nodded. She uncapped her purple pen and began to write:

  SUSPECTS:

  Denise

  She was mad at us for doing a Swan Lake sculpture.

  “What about Joan?” George said suddenly. “She really wanted to put us in her movie. She asked a lot of questions about the sketch.”

  “But why would Joan pour hot chocolate on our sketch?” Bess asked her.

  George grinned. “So she’d have something exciting to put in her movie, silly! Maybe her movie was super boring, and she wanted to make it interesting.”

  “Hmm,” Bess said.

  Nancy thought that George had a point. Under Denise’s name, she wrote:

  Joan

  Maybe she ruined our sketch so she could make her movie more exciting.

  Nancy closed her notebook. “You know, maybe Mad Mike was right. Maybe it was an accident, and the person is too embarrassed to say anything.”

  “Maybe,” George agreed. “I hope so. I don’t want anything else to happen to our sculpture!”

  • • •

  The next morning, Nancy, Bess, and George arrived at the park bright and early to work on their sculpture. It was already Friday, and the competition was in just two days.

  They still had to make three more swans. They also had to make Odette herself. She would be the hardest part!

  The park was already filled with kids working on their sculptures. Nancy and her friends headed for their own sculpture area. It was a big, flat spot between two tall oak trees.

  On their way, they passed Denise and Tess.

  “Hi!” Denise called out. “How’s your sculpture going?” Nancy thought Denise had a smirk on her face.

  “Oh, fine,” Nancy said casually. “How’s yours going?”

  “Awesome,” Denise replied smugly. “It’s pretty obvious who’s going to win first place.”

  “Oh, really?” Bess snapped. “Just because some people need to spill hot chocolate all over the place to make sure they win—”

  Nancy elbowed Bess. “Shhhh!” she whispered.

  “Huh?” Denise frowned.

  Tess glanced up at her big sister. She looked confused and upset. “What’s she talking about, Didi?” she asked Denise.

  “Come on.” Nancy yanked Bess by the arm and pulled her away. “Bye, Denise! Bye, Tess.”

  “Why did you drag me away?” Bess asked Nancy. “She was on the verge of confessing!”

  “We don’t have any proof that Denise is the one,” Nancy told Bess.

  Bess shrugged. “She acts so guilty, though!”

  Nancy, Bess, and George soon reached the two tall oak trees.

  Then Nancy stopped in her tracks. Their sculpture was . . . gone!

  Someone had smashed the three snow swans—and in their place were three yellow rubber duckies!

  4

  The Bunny Clue

  Oh, no!” Bess cried out. “Someone totally destroyed our swans!”

  “This is awful,” Nancy said. She had to hold back tears. “I can’t believe someone could do that to our swans.”

  “Look at the rubber duckies!” George exclaimed. “Someone is playing a prank on us.”

  “Maybe the person left a clue,” Nancy said hopefully.

  She bent down and began searching the area carefully. There were footprints in the snow, but they were all different sizes and jumbled together. She couldn’t pick out anyone’s footprints in particular.

  Aside from the footprints, there were no clues. Nancy stood up and brushed her snow-covered mittens against her coat.

  “Okay, so now we know the hot chocolate wasn’t an accident,” Nancy announced. “Let’s go tell Mad Mike right away.”

  “Definitely!” Bess agreed.

  Nancy and her friends rushed over to Mad Mike. He was helping one of the other teams with their sculpture. The sculpture looked like a cross between a sheep and a motorcycle.

  “Mad Mike!” Nancy called out.

  Mad Mike turned around. “Hey, girls! What’s up?” he said with a friendly smile.

  “Someone ruined our swans!” Bess announced.

  “What?” Mad Mike frowned.

  Nancy told him what had happened. When she was finished, Mad Mike looked just like his name: mad.

  “Well, girls, that’s terrible. Let’s see if we can find out who was responsible,” Mad Mike said.

  He pulled a whistle out of his coat pocket and blew it, hard. The sound was really loud. Nancy covered her ears. So did George and Bess.

  Mad Mike cupped his hands over his mouth. “Everybody please gather around,” he called out. “We need to have an emergency meeting!”

  The other kids stopped what they were doing and came running over. Denise and Tess were among them. Denise gave Nancy a curious look.

  “These three girls are making a Swan Lake sculpture,” Mad Mike announced to the crowd. “But someone messed up their sculpture. And maybe that same someone messed up their sketch yesterday.”

  The kids in the crowd looked at each other. There was a long silence.

  “If anyone knows anything about this, I’d like them to come forward,” Mad Mike went on.

  No one came forward.

  Mad Mike sighed. “Fine. If anyone would like to come forward on their own later and talk in private, I’m here. Needless to say, this kind of behavior is against all our rules here at the winte
r festival. Further incidents will not be tolerated!”

  Nancy glanced around at the faces in the crowd. Everyone was staring at Nancy, George, and Bess.

  Then she noticed that Denise had a smile on her face.

  What’s that all about? Nancy wondered.

  Then Nancy noticed something else.

  Joan was filming the whole thing on her video camera.

  • • •

  Bess scooped up a handful of snow, then another. Then she dumped all the snow on the ground and began molding it into a shape.

  “Is that a swan?” Nancy asked her. She was in the middle of making her second swan. It had a long, graceful neck and two wide wings stretching into the air.

  Bess shook her head. “Nope. I’m making a little snow cave for the rubber duckies.”

  “That’s really nice, Bess, but we have to get busy!” George scolded her. She was on her knees, molding Odette’s legs.

  “Okay, okay, I’m done,” Bess replied. She patted the snow into a cave shape and tucked the rubber ducks deep inside. “Now they’ll be nice and cozy.”

  “We have to work extra hard to solve this case,” Nancy told the girls as she carved ridges into the wings, to look like feathers. “The competition is Sunday. We don’t want anything else to go wrong with our sculpture between now and then!”

  “I still think it’s that girl with the video camera,” George said. She glanced over her shoulder at Joan, who was videotaping some kids working on a seagull sculpture.

  “I still think it’s Denise,” Bess piped up. “She doesn’t want our Swan Lake sculpture to beat her Swan Lake sculpture!”

  “We don’t have any proof against either Joan or Denise, though,” Nancy pointed out. “We don’t even have any clues yet.”

  “I think this is the toughest mystery we’ve ever faced, Nancy,” George said.

  Nancy nodded. “I think so, too.”

  After a while, the girls finished four of the six swans as well as Odette’s legs. Nancy suggested that they take a hot chocolate break.

  “Why don’t you and I go to the snack stand, Bess? George, you stay here and guard the sculpture. We’ll bring you back some hot chocolate,” Nancy said.

  “Good idea,” George agreed. She crossed her arms over her chest. She scrunched up her face and made herself look tough and mean. “I won’t let anyone come near it!”

  Nancy giggled. “We’ll be right back.”

  She and Bess made their way over to the snack stand. The same woman from yesterday was standing behind the counter.

  “More hot chocolate and cupcakes, girls?” she asked them with a friendly smile.

  “Just hot chocolate today, thank you!” Nancy said. She and the others were still full from lunch. “Three of them. We’re taking one back to our friend George.”

  “Three hot chocolates, coming right up!” the woman said.

  She prepared the hot chocolate, added marshmallows, and set the cups down on the counter. Just then, Nancy noticed something.

  “The marshmallows,” Nancy said, pointing to the cups. “They’re round.”

  The woman nodded. “That’s right.”

  “They’re not bunny-shaped,” Nancy went on.

  The woman chuckled. “Bunny-shaped? No. We don’t have bunny-shaped marshmallows here.”

  “Have you ever had them?” Nancy asked her. “Like, maybe yesterday?”

  The woman shook her head. “No, we’ve never had them here. Not yesterday, not ever. Not since I’ve been working here, anyway.”

  Nancy turned to Bess. “This is a major clue for our case!” she whispered excitedly.

  5

  More Competition

  A major clue for our case?” Bess repeated. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I was sort of assuming that the hot chocolate that was dumped on our sketch was from this snack stand,” Nancy explained. “But that hot chocolate had bunny-shaped marshmallows in it. It was special hot chocolate!”

  Bess’s blue eyes sparkled. “Oh!”

  “Now, all we have to do is figure out who drinks hot chocolate with bunny marshmallows in it,” Nancy pointed out.

  “Yes! And then the case will be solved,” Bess agreed.

  “Maybe. Let’s go back and tell George!” Nancy said.

  Nancy paid the woman for the hot chocolates. Then she and Bess headed back to their sculpture station, carrying their cups carefully.

  Nancy’s thoughts were racing. Was this the big break in their case that they had been waiting for?

  • • •

  “Hi! We’re taking a survey on what kind of hot chocolate people are drinking today,” Nancy said cheerfully.

  “We’re going to write an article about it for our school paper,” George explained. She held up her notebook and pen.

  Nancy and George were talking to three boys who were making a Mount Rushmore snow sculpture. The boys glanced up curiously.

  “A hot chocolate survey?” one of the boys said. “I don’t even like hot chocolate.”

  “I’m allergic to milk,” another boy said.

  “I like hot cider way better,” the third boy piped up.

  “Okay, thank you,” Nancy said.

  George leaned over to Nancy. “Let’s try the next group,” she whispered.

  After leaving the snack bar, Nancy and Bess had told George about their exciting new marshmallow clue. George had suggested that they figure out a clever way to find out who in the competition drank hot chocolate with bunny marshmallows.

  Bess had come up with the idea for the pretend survey. They could go around and ask the other kids in the park what kind of hot chocolate they liked.

  George and Nancy had decided to conduct the survey. Bess had agreed to stay behind to guard Odette and the swans.

  “There’s Denise,” George whispered to Nancy. “She’s one of our main suspects so far. Let’s go talk to her.”

  Nancy nodded. “If she drinks hot chocolate with bunnies in it, then she’s probably the guilty one!”

  “Definitely,” George agreed.

  Nancy and George walked over to the spot where Denise was working on her sculpture. Nancy had to admit that Denise’s sculpture looked really awesome so far. Von Rothbart looked like a scary cross between a man and an owl. Denise had also started to work on Von Rothbart’s evil swan-daughter, Odile.

  Nancy was about to call out to Denise. Then she clamped her mouth shut. Denise and Tess seemed to be having an argument. Nancy wanted to hear what they were arguing about.

  Nancy put her finger up to her lips. “Shhh,” she said to George. “Over here!”

  Nancy led George over to a nearby tree. The two girls hid behind it and listened.

  “But it’s not fair that Mommy is taking you to Chicago to see Swan Lake and not me,” Tess was complaining.

  “Mom’s taking me as a reward for being in the sculpture contest,” Denise explained.

  “But why can’t I go too?” Tess demanded.

  “You’re not in the contest.”

  “But why can’t I be in the contest?”

  “Because you’re too young! You have to be at least eight. You’re only six.”

  “Six and three quarters!” Tess corrected her.

  “Besides, I don’t need any help and Dad’s taking you someplace fun while Mom and I are in Chicago,” Denise said.

  “Not fair! I want to go to Swan Lake with you and Mommy,” Tess pouted. “What if I helped you with your sculpture? Then maybe Mommy would take me, too,” she said hopefully.

  Denise sighed. “I don’t want your help, Tess. I have to make my sculpture perfect so I win first prize.”

  All of a sudden, Denise seemed to realize that Nancy and George were standing behind the tree. “What are you doing?” Denise snapped. “Are you eavesdropping again?”

  “Eaves—what?” Tess said, looking confused.

  “Eavesdropping. It means they’re listening to other people’s conversations when they’re not supposed t
o,” Denise replied.

  “We’re not eavesdropping!” Nancy reassured her. “We just came by to, um, say hi. And see how your sculpture’s going.”

  “Well, as you can see, it’s going fine,” Denise said in a grumpy voice.

  Nancy walked over to the sculpture. She noticed there were two steaming cups of some sort of beverage next to them.

  Was it hot chocolate? Nancy wondered. She pretended to check out the sculpture. But instead, she peered into the cups.

  They were filled with hot cider. Nancy bit back her disappointment.

  “Okay, we’ll be going now,” Nancy said to Denise and Tess. “Bye!”

  George looked puzzled. “But, Nancy, our survey—”

  Nancy tugged on George’s arm. “It’s okay. Bye, Denise and Tess!” she called out.

  Nancy and George moved on. “Why didn’t we ask them about what kind of hot chocolate they’re drinking?” George whispered.

  “Because they were drinking hot cider. Come on, let’s check out the next person,” Nancy whispered back.

  Down the path from Denise, a girl was making a snow sculpture of a race car. “Oh, wow, that’s so cool!” George said to the girl. “Is that a Nascar race car?”

  “Grand Prix,” the girl corrected her. “I’m a huge Grand Prix fan.”

  The girl seemed a little older than Nancy and George. She was dressed in a black parka. Her dark brown hair hung down in dozens of dreadlocks with red and yellow beads in them.

  “I’m Layah,” the girl introduced herself.

  “I’m Nancy, and this is George,” Nancy said. “Your sculpture is really great!”

  “What are you guys making for the competition?” Layah asked.

  “We’re making a scene from Swan Lake,” George replied. “We’re on a team with my cousin Bess.”

  “Oh, you’re the ones who had your sculpture messed up,” Layah said. “That’s too bad. Maybe you should make something else, anyway. Ballet is kind of lame.”

  “Lame?” George burst out.

  Layah shrugged. “Yeah. You put on a pink tutu and spin around. Big deal! Now, Grand Prix racing—that’s exciting!”

  “Ballet is way more exciting!” George shot back. “You have to be super strong to do jumps and leaps. And I bet race-car drivers can’t do splits in the air, like ballet dancers do!”