The Great Goat Gaffe, Page 2

  Nancy reached out to squeeze Bess’s hand. This is it!

  “Five… four… three,” Bev counted back, “two—”

  She pointed to Stephanie, who flashed a glossy bright smile at the camera before beginning to speak.

  “Most kids spend spring break on playdates or seeing the latest blockbuster movie. But these kids spend them with other kids. Goats!”

  The goats bleated softly as they meandered out of the shed toward the giggling kids.

  “Don’t tell the goats, but our first pose is the lion!” Eddie joked. “Everyone, kneel on your mats and sit way back on your heels.”

  Like the others, Nancy kneeled on her mat. By now most of the goats were playfully scampering around the posing kids. Some were jumping onto their backs, but all of the goats were very gentle. All except one…

  “Baaaaa!” one goat screamed as he raced around the pen, bouncing up and down on kids and chewing everything in sight!

  “He chewed on my sneaker!” one girl complained.

  “He’s pulling my yoga mat out from under me!” a boy shouted as the goat tugged the mat between his teeth. “Get him to stop!”

  “Baaaaa!”

  The gentle goats backed away as the out-of-control goat charged toward Kendra’s water bottle. He grabbed it between his teeth and swung it through the air. Kids shrieked as water splashed everywhere!

  “What’s up with this goat?” George shouted.

  Nancy had no idea—until she spotted something on the goat’s side. Something she knew she had seen before!

  Chapter 3

  SILLY BILLY

  “Bess, George!” Nancy called. “Check out the brown star-shaped mark on the goat’s side.”

  “Holy guacamole!” George said, staring at the spot. “That goat’s Pogo!”

  Shrieks and bleats filled the air as Pogo continued to charge through the pen. Eddie grumbled as he rolled up his yoga mat. “I may be wearing zebra stripes, but I’m no zookeeper!”

  Bev was pointing frantically to the camera. Stephanie jumped in front of it, forcing a smile. “I guess this is what happens when good goats go baaaaaaad. Heh-heh. Back to you in the studio!”

  George shook her head as Pogo continued to run amok. “I knew I should have played soccer instead,” she groaned.

  Sophie led a team of farm workers into the pen. After chasing Pogo for a few minutes, one was able to catch him and hold him gently.

  “That is not a Sweet Creams Farm goat,” Sophie said, pointing to Pogo. “I didn’t see him when I came into the pen at six thirty this morning.”

  Nancy, Bess, and George exchanged a look before hurrying over to Sophie.

  “He’s not one of your goats, Sophie,” Nancy explained. “He’s Pogo the Trampoline Goat.”

  “He belongs to the Disher family on Magnolia Street,” George added.

  “Magnolia Street is just up the hill,” Sophie told the farm worker holding Pogo. “Could you please look up the Dishers’ house number and return their goat?”

  “Baaaa!” Pogo bleated as he was carried out of the pen.

  The other kids grumbled as they rolled up their yoga mats.

  “My mat is covered with goat spit,” Marcy Ruben complained. “Gross.”

  “That nutty goat pulled out my sneaker lace.” Peter Patino groaned. “And I’m wearing high-tops!”

  “So… you didn’t like the class?” George asked.

  “Here’s what I thought of the class, Georgia Fayne!” Madison Foley said, holding her thumb down.

  Nancy could see George frown—she hated her real name. But Madison wasn’t the only one who was disappointed.

  “You promised us gentle goats, Nancy,” Kendra said. “Not crazy trampoline goats.”

  Nancy felt awful, but she knew it wasn’t her fault. She also knew what had to be done….

  “I have no idea how Pogo got here,” Nancy admitted, “but I promise that the Clue Crew will find out!”

  After the kids quietly left the pen, Bess and George turned to Nancy.

  “A promise is serious stuff, Nancy,” George said.

  “How are we going to find out how Pogo got into the yoga class?” Bess asked.

  Nancy smiled as she reached into the pocket of her hoodie. “Luckily, Pogo didn’t chew up my clue book!”

  She carried her clue book everywhere—even to goat yoga. It’s where the Clue Crew wrote all of their suspects and clues for each new case. Tucked between the pages was Nancy’s favorite purple-ink pen.

  The Clue Crew got to work. Nancy turned to a clean page in her clue book, where she wrote Case: Pogo Puzzler.

  “How did Pogo get inside the pen in the first place?” Nancy asked.

  “Somebody must have brought him,” Bess said. “He couldn’t have walked here all by himself.”

  “Sophie didn’t notice Pogo at six thirty this morning, when the farm opened,” George pointed out. “He was probably snuck into the pen between then and our yoga class at seven thirty.”

  “The TV crew was here early,” Nancy said. “Wouldn’t they have seen someone sneak Pogo in?”

  “Not if they were busy,” George said.

  “Plus, there’s only one gate that opens into the pen,” Bess pointed out, “and it’s right in the front.”

  “Unless there’s another gate somewhere,” Nancy said, shutting her clue book. “Come on. Let’s investi-gate!”

  Starting at the gate, the girls walked around the pen. The front was always grassy, but the back was muddy.

  “Great,” Bess complained. “How am I going to keep my new sneakers clean with all this mud?”

  “Walk on your hands,” George teased.

  Bess glared at her cousin. “Very funny.”

  Nancy, Bess, and George walked alongside the fence until they found another gate. It was smaller than the one at the front of the pen, but still a gate!

  “Look what I found,” George said, pointing to the muddy ground. “Animal tracks leading through the gate inside.”

  “They look like tiny goat hooves,” Nancy said. “But how do we know they’re Pogo’s?”

  Bess touched a strip of purple paper stuck to the gate. “Whoever opened the gate lost this,” she said. “It’s a purple Pogo bracelet!”

  Nancy removed the paper bracelet from the door. To keep it safe, she placed it between the pages of her clue book like a bookmark. “Good clue, Bess,” she said. “Next, let’s figure out who brought Pogo to goat yoga and why!”

  “To ruin the class?” Bess guessed.

  “Or to get rid of Pogo,” George suggested with a frown, “like Leslie Disher wanted to do.”

  “Leslie was mad at Pogo for chewing up her Brad Sylvester poster,” Nancy agreed. “She wished Pogo would get lost.”

  Georgia scratched her head. “Maybe Leslie made her own wish come true by walking Pogo here and leaving him?”

  “Leslie had a purple Pogo bracelet too,” Bess added. “Just like the one we found on the fence.”

  “But Quincy must have handed out a lot of those,” George said.

  Quincy! The name made Nancy look up from her clue book.

  “Quincy said he wanted Pogo to be on TV,” Nancy said. “Maybe Quincy snuck Pogo into the goat pen this morning!”

  “Why wouldn’t Quincy stick around to watch?” Bess asked. “Or brag that he was Pogo’s manager?”

  “Quincy could have seen Pogo go bonkers,” George suggested, “and took off so he wouldn’t be blamed.”

  Nancy added Quincy’s name to their suspect list.

  “We should look for Hannah in case she wants to leave,” Nancy said as she closed her clue book. “At least we’ll be leaving with two good clues and two suspects.”

  “And two muddy sneakers.” Bess sighed, frowning down at her feet. “Great.”

  On the way to the market, the girls walked by the parking lot. Nancy could see a woman climbing into a bright blue car—a woman she had seen just yesterday.

  “You guys,” Nancy said in
almost a whisper, “do you see what I see?”

  “See what?” George asked.

  “Our third suspect,” Nancy said with a smile.

  Chapter 4

  SOUR PICKLES

  The woman in the blue car reached out to shut the door. Nancy, Bess, and George stood still as they watched her pull out of the parking lot.

  “That was Nina Pickles, wasn’t it?” George asked as the car drove off.

  “Why would Nina come back to the farm?” Bess asked. “Especially after Sophie said she couldn’t show off her new kids’ clothes for the TV filming?”

  “Maybe to ruin the goat yoga class this morning!” Nancy replied.

  George shook her head. “I don’t know, Nancy. How would Nina even know about Pogo or where to get him?”

  “And that bracelet we found on the fence is so not her style,” Bess added.

  Nancy agreed with them both. She wrote Nina’s name in her clue book along with a question mark.

  “We still have two suspects,” Nancy said. “Two and a half!”

  The girls found Hannah drinking a cup of coffee by the farm’s snack truck. When she heard what had happened during the yoga class, her eyes popped wide open.

  “I had no idea!” she said, glancing down at two shopping bags at her side. “I was too busy buying goat yogurt and cheese.”

  “Blueberry pecan goat cheese?” Nancy asked hopefully.

  “No,” Hannah said. “The man selling the cheeses told me someone bought all of the blueberry pecan logs. I bought cranberry walnut instead.”

  Nancy, Bess, and George walked with Hannah to the car. After helping to load the bags into the trunk, Nancy removed the parking card and handed it to Hannah.

  When everyone was buckled in, Hannah asked, “Are we all going home now?”

  “Actually, could you please drive us to Magnolia Street?” Nancy asked.

  “What’s on Magnolia Street?”

  “That’s where the Dishers live,” Nancy explained. “We want to talk to Leslie Disher about Pogo.”

  “And read her journal,” George added quickly.

  Nancy turned to stare at George. “Her journal? Why do you want to read her journal?”

  “If Leslie writes everything in her journal,” George explained, “she might have written her plans for Pogo.”

  “No way, George. We can’t do that!” Bess said. “Reading journals is snooping!”

  “We’re detectives, Bess,” George insisted. “Snooping is our business!”

  The Disher house was up the road, and only four blocks from the Drews’. Hannah dropped the girls off, and they promised that they’d walk home together.

  In front of the house, Nancy said, “I heard a baaaa. Sounds like Pogo’s back home.”

  Nancy, Bess, and George followed the bleats to the backyard, where they saw Pogo. This time he was not on the trampoline. Instead, he stood by Wesley, drinking from a bottle.

  “Hi, Wesley,” Nancy said. “You heard what happened with Pogo, right?”

  “Sure did. But I have no idea how Pogo got into that goat yoga class.”

  “Then I guess somebody got your goat,” George joked before earning an elbow nudge from Bess.

  “Is your sister here?” Nancy asked Wesley. “We’d like to say hi.”

  “Leslie just got home. You can go upstairs to her room. The side door is unlocked.”

  Nancy, Bess, and George filed through the side door into the house. They gave a little wave to Mrs. Disher, who was sitting in her office, before climbing the stairs.

  “Keep your eyes out for clues that Leslie was at Sweet Creams this morning,” Nancy whispered.

  “What kind of clues?” George asked.

  Bess groaned. “Muddy sneakers.”

  When the girls reached the second floor, they spotted a door plastered with Brad Sylvester pictures.

  “I’ll take a wild guess that this is Leslie’s room,” George said, heading to the door. She knocked twice, then called, “Leslie? It’s George.”

  “Nancy and Bess too!” Nancy called through the door.

  They waited about ten seconds. No answer.

  “Maybe Leslie didn’t hear us,” Bess said. “She’s probably listening to Brad Sylvester tunes through her earbuds.”

  “Then I’m going in,” George said, turning the doorknob.

  “Don’t, George,” Nancy whispered. “Wait—”

  Too late. The Brad Sylvester pictures fluttered in the breeze as George swung the door open. Nancy and Bess followed her inside. They didn’t see Leslie—but they recognized someone else!

  “OMG!” Nancy gasped, not believing her eyes.

  “It’s him! It’s him!” Bess cried. “It’s Brad Sylvester!”

  Chapter 5

  PRIVATE EYES

  Nancy, Bess, and George stared ahead, openmouthed. Brad stood with his pearly toothed smile in the middle of Leslie’s room. Until he fell forward with a PLUNK!

  “Brad?” Bess asked quietly.

  The girls stared down at a pancake-flat Brad Sylvester, facedown on the floor.

  “It’s one of those life-size cardboard cutouts.” Nancy sighed with disappointment. “The breeze from the closing door must have knocked it down.”

  George looked around the room. “This place is on Brad overdrive,” she said. “Brad Sylvester bedspread, Brad curtains, bobblehead Brad on the windowsill—”

  “We already found tons of Brad,” Nancy cut in. “Let’s find clues that Leslie was at Sweet Creams Farm this morning.”

  “If Leslie brought Pogo to the farm,” Bess said, “how did she get him there?”

  “In that!” George said, pointing.

  On top of Leslie’s desk was a big duffel bag. “Leslie carried Pogo to the farm in a bag?” Nancy asked.

  “Why not?” George asked, reaching for the bag. “Let’s see if it smells like goat inside.”

  “Let’s not!” Bess wrinkled her nose. “That’s gross, George!”

  George was already grabbing the open bag by its handle.

  It slipped out of her hand, dropped to the floor, and landed on its side.

  “Oops,” George said as the bag’s contents spilled out. A toothbrush, hairbrush, scrunchie, slippers, and a nightshirt scattered across the floor.

  Nancy took a moment to study the stuff, then said, “Leslie could not have been at the farm early this morning.”

  “Why not?” Bess asked.

  “This is all sleepover stuff,” Nancy explained. “Leslie was probably at an all-night sleepover.”

  “How do we know it was last night?” Bess asked. “She could have gone two nights ago and not have unpacked.”

  “We can check if her toothbrush is still wet,” George suggested.

  “Eww, George,” Bess exclaimed. “That’s even grosser than sniffing for goat.”

  But George was already on to something else. She pulled a notebook from the bag. On the cover was a heart-shaped Brad Sylvester sticker. “Look what I found!” she said. “This has got to be Leslie’s journal!”

  “Step away from my journal!” a voice commanded. “I repeat—step away from my journal!”

  The girls spun around. Standing in the doorway was Leslie, and she looked mad!

  “What are you doing in my room?” Leslie demanded. “Were you going to snoop through my journal?”

  “No,” George said. “I was just going to read it.”

  With a shriek, Leslie snatched the notebook away. “Nobody reads my journal except me. Or Brad Sylvester, because half of it is about him anyway.”

  Nancy gave her friends a sideways glance. The only defense they had left now was the truth….

  “Someone snuck Pogo in our goat yoga class this morning,” Nancy explained. “We were just trying to find out who did it.”

  “You thought it was me?” Leslie cried. “Why?”

  “You wanted Pogo gone, Leslie,” Bess said. “We heard you with our own ears.”

  Leslie sighed as she placed her jou
rnal on her desk. “I know what Pogo did at the yoga class, but I didn’t put him there.”

  “But you were mad at Pogo for chewing up your things,” Nancy said, “like your Brad Sylvester poster.”

  “Sure, but I would never get rid of Wesley’s pet. Anyway,” she said, pointing at her spilled duffel bag, “I was at Nikki Pelligrino’s sleepover last night.”

  “Or,” George said slowly, “maybe you just put that sleepover bag there so we would think you were at a sleepover!”

  “Huh?” Leslie asked.

  “You guys,” Bess whispered, “Leslie was at a sleepover last night.”

  “How do you know?” Nancy whispered.

  “Look at her red eyes from no sleep,” Bess pointed out. “I know sleepover eyes when I see them.”

  “And,” Nancy said, glancing down at Leslie’s feet, “her sneakers are clean as a whistle. No mud.”

  “She’s also wearing her purple Pogo bracelet,” George said, “so she couldn’t have lost it at the farm.”

  “Hello? I’m standing right here. And it’s not a Pogo bracelet,” Leslie said, raising her wrist. “It’s a Brad Sylvester bracelet with a bunch of tiny hearts next to his name. See?”

  Nancy moved closer for a better look. The bracelet did have Brad’s name, not Pogo’s. It had tiny hearts, too. “Oh,” she said.

  Leslie smiled. “While you’re here, let me show you my wickedly awesome Brad Sylvester things.”

  Leslie lifted a jar from her desk and held it up.

  “Eww!” Bess said, eyeing the bluish clumpy wad inside. “Is that chewed-up gum in there?”

  “Not just anyone’s gum,” Leslie said. “Brad chewed it up and spit it out on the sidewalk after a concert. I was lucky to see it and scrape it off—”

  “We get it, Leslie. Thanks!” George cut in.

  “That’s even grosser than the wet toothbrush,” Bess whispered to Nancy and George. “Can we leave now?”

  Nancy, Bess, and George helped Leslie pick up her spilled things—except for the toothbrush. They thanked her for being honest, then said goodbye and left.