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The Dashing Dog Mystery, Page 3

Carolyn Keene


  While they ate, Nancy filled her father in on the day before. When she had finished, he said, “So you’re adding Mrs. Vander-pool’s grandson to the suspect list, eh, Pudding Pie?”

  Nancy nodded. “Yes, Daddy. The problem is, I can’t figure out a motive for him.”

  “Hmm, that is a problem,” Carson agreed.

  Nancy took a bite of her strawberry pancakes. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out her special notebook.

  She uncapped her pen and opened to the page about the missing-collar case. She wrote Lucas’s name under “Suspects.”

  While Nancy wrote, Carson glanced at the Sunday paper. “Hey, look at this!” he said after a minute. “You’re in the newspaper!”

  Nancy’s head whipped up. “What?”

  Carson slid the newspaper across the table. He pointed to Alice Cahill’s “Pet Corner” column. It said:

  The Pet Corner

  Special Sunday Bulletin

  By Alice Cahill

  We’ve all heard of white-collar crime. But doggie-collar crime? Friday, at the newly revamped Dashing Dog Pet Salon, owned by canine beauty wiz Rex Rumford, a Stella Sipowitz original disappeared under mysterious circumstances. After the collar was raffled off to third-grader Nancy Drew and her Lab, Mocha Chip . . .

  “Mocha Chip!” Nancy cried out. “She got Chip’s name wrong!”

  “Keep reading,” Carson said. “What else does she say?”

  Nancy scanned the rest of the column. Alice mentioned how the collar had vanished while Nancy, Bess, and George walked around the pet salon. She also mentioned that Nancy planned to get on the case:

  Says the amateur detective Drew: “I’m going to conduct a dogged investigation and collar the collar thief!”

  Nancy pointed to the quote. “I don’t remember saying that,” she murmured.

  Just then the front door of the restaurant opened, and Alice Cahill breezed in. She noticed Carson and Nancy sitting there.

  She gave Nancy a little wave. “Hope you enjoyed my column!” she called out. “Must run! I’m here to interview Meow and her owner for my next column!”

  “Is that her?” Carson whispered to Nancy.

  Nancy nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  Alice sat down at a table and pulled out her notebook and green pen. The owner of Chez Meow scooped Meow up in her arms and sat down across from Alice.

  Nancy and Carson discussed the case some more as they finished their brunch. When they were done, Nancy asked her father if they could stop by the Dashing Dog before going home.

  “I want to see if Rex Rumford found any new clues to the thief,” Nancy explained.

  “No problem, Pudding Pie,” Carson replied.

  A short while later they walked through the front door of the Dashing Dog. It was just around the corner from Chez Meow.

  “Hello, hello,” Rex greeted them. He was holding a small white collie in his arms. “I was just about to give Snowflake a special herbal bath. It’s very relaxing. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m still trying to find out who stole Chip’s collar,” Nancy told Rex. She hugged her blue notebook to her chest. “I’m trying to collect all the information I can.”

  Rex frowned. “I feel terrible about that. Just terrible! But I’m afraid I have no new information for you.” He added, “What about you? Have you learned anything?”

  Nancy was about to reply when she noticed something. The raffle jar from Friday was still on the front counter. She could see all the entry slips inside.

  Most of the slips had black letters on them. She remembered that there had been a black pen sitting on the counter, for the guests to use.

  But looking at the raffle jar now, Nancy saw that a bunch of entry slips had been filled out in a different color: green.

  “That’s strange,” Nancy said out loud.

  “What is it, Pudding Pie?” Carson asked her.

  Nancy walked over to the jar and turned it upside down. The entry slips spilled out onto the counter.

  Nancy picked out the slips with green ink on them. There were twelve of them. And the name on all of them was Cahill!

  6

  The Thief Strikes Again

  Nancy couldn’t believe it. Alice had stuffed the raffle jar with a dozen entry slips! She had wanted to increase her chances of winning the Stella Sipowitz collar.

  Nancy turned to Rex. “Didn’t you say on Friday that each customer got only one entry slip?” she asked him.

  Rex nodded. “Absolutely! I was very clear about that.”

  Nancy’s mind was racing. Alice must have wanted the Stella Sipowitz collar badly enough to break the rules.

  Could she have wanted the collar badly enough to steal it? Nancy wondered.

  “What’s going on, Pudding Pie?” Carson asked her curiously.

  “I need to talk to Alice Cahill right away,” Nancy replied.

  The two of them bid Rex goodbye and rushed back to Chez Meow. Alice was still there. She was wrapping up her interview with Meow and her owner.

  “So what do you think is the best part of being a restaurant cat?” Alice asked Meow.

  Meow purred loudly. Alice scribbled something in her notebook. “Uh-huh, I quite agree. Leftovers are a great thing! Well, that wraps up my interview.”

  Nancy waited until Meow and her owner had gotten up from Alice’s table. Then she and Carson walked over to Alice.

  Alice glanced up. “Oh, hello!”

  “Excuse me, could I talk to you for a minute?” Nancy asked her.

  “Uh-huh, sure,” Alice said. “But then I must rush off. I have an interview with the mayor’s pet parakeet in twenty minutes.”

  Nancy pulled from her pocket the dozen entry slips from the Dashing Dog. She let them tumble onto the table.

  Alice gasped. “What ... where did you . . .” Her eyes grew enormous.

  “Rex Rumford said only one entry slip per customer,” Nancy said. “There are twelve entry slips here.”

  “I . . . that is, well. . .” Alice fell silent.

  Nancy stared at her and waited.

  “Okay, I admit it,” Alice finally confessed. “I wanted to make sure my precious Pierre won the collar. He would have looked so handsome in it!”

  Nancy frowned. “Did you steal the collar after I won it, Ms. Cahill?”

  Alice shook her head. “Absolutely not! I draw the line at stealing.”

  Nancy wasn’t sure whether or not to believe her. Alice seemed to be telling the truth, though.

  Alice glanced around the restaurant. “I beg you, don’t tell anyone,” she whispered.

  “I’m not making any promises,” Nancy said. “If it turns out that you did steal Chip’s collar . . . well . . .”

  “I didn’t,” Alice insisted. “Dog’s honor! I did not steal that Stella Sipowitz collar!”

  “So we’ve got four suspects now,” George said. “Petra, Mrs. Vanderpool, Lucas ...”

  “... and Alice Cahill,” Bess finished.

  As her friends talked, Nancy scribbled in her notebook. The three of them were sitting in Nancy’s living room. After leaving Chez Meow, Nancy had invited them to her house to go over the latest developments in the case.

  The girls were sitting around the coffee table. They were drinking hot cider and munching on popcorn. Carson Drew was in his study, catching up on some work. Nancy could hear him typing away on his computer.

  Chip was curled up on the floor, taking a nap. She made soft snoring noises, and her body twitched from time to time.

  “Petra’s not such a strong suspect anymore,” Nancy said as she scribbled. “Her mom bought Prince Fabian his own Stella Sipowitz collar.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not as nice as yours,” Bess pointed out.

  Nancy nodded. “True.” She took a sip of her hot cider, then added, “We still haven’t talked to Mrs. Vanderpool. And as for Alice Cahill . . . she said she didn’t steal Chip’s collar. But she could have been lying.”

  Chip opened one eye a
nd thumped her tail. She made a whimpering sound.

  “Don’t worry, Chip. We’ll get your collar back,” George reassured her.

  Nancy reached into her pocket and pulled out a doggie biscuit. She handed it to Chip. Chip gobbled it down, then looked at Nancy expectantly.

  “That’s all I have, girl,” Nancy told her. “Go back to sleep.”

  Bess scarfed down a handful of popcorn. “Personally, I think it’s Lucas,” she said. “He was acting totally guilty when we visited his grandma’s house yesterday.”

  Just then the phone rang. “I’ll get it, Dad!” Nancy called out.

  She reached over to a side table and picked up the cordless extension. “Hello?”

  “Nancy Drew?” The girl’s voice on the other end sounded really upset.

  Nancy frowned. “Who is this?”

  “You know who it is. It’s Petra Wylie.”

  Nancy glanced at Bess and George. “Oh, hi, Petra,” she said. “What’s up?”

  “What’s up? You know very well ’what’s up,’” Petra cried out. “Prince Fabian’s collar is gone. You stole it, Nancy Drew!”

  7

  A Yorkie Affair

  Okay, tell us the whole story from the beginning,” Nancy said to Petra. “When did Prince Fabian’s collar disappear?”

  Nancy, Bess, and George were sitting in Petra’s living room. They had rushed over right after Petra had called.

  Prince Fabian and Chip were playing in the backyard. Nancy could see them through the big picture window in the living room. They were digging a hole near the flowerbeds. Dirt was flying everywhere. Nancy hoped Petra’s parents didn’t mind.

  Petra glared at Nancy. “I really don’t know why we’re having this conversation. Just admit it, Nancy. You stole Prince Fabian’s collar!” she accused.

  “Nancy is not a thief!” Bess said huffily.

  George came to Nancy’s defense, too. “Yeah, that’s right!”

  “Why would I steal Prince Fabian’s collar?” Nancy asked Petra.

  Petra shrugged. “I don’t know. Because you’re getting back at me for stealing Chip’s collar, which I totally didn’t do? Because you didn’t want to buy a new collar? Whatever! I just want you to give back Prince Fabian’s collar. Or I’m telling my mom!”

  “Petra,” Nancy said patiently. “I didn’t steal Prince Fabian’s collar. But I will help you find out who did. I need some information from you, though.” She pulled her blue notebook out of her pocket and took the cap off her pen.

  Petra looked suspicious. “Information? What kind of information?” she demanded.

  “Like, when was the last time you noticed Prince Fabian wearing his collar?” Nancy asked. She turned to a fresh page in her notebook.

  Petra looked thoughtful. “Welllll . . . I guess that would have been at breakfast. I fed him a bowl of Doggie-O’s and strawberries. He likes strawberries. I noticed that he was wearing the collar then.”

  “Uh-huh,” Nancy said, scribbling. “And when did you notice that the collar was missing?”

  “I guess about an hour ago,” Petra replied.

  “Were you and Prince Fabian here all morning?” George asked her.

  Petra nodded. “Yup.”

  “How about guests or whatever? Did you have any friends over?” Bess piped up.

  “That Mrs. Vanderpool lady came over to visit my mom and dad,” Petra said. “She and my mom are on some committee or something. That weird kid was with her. Luke or whatever.”

  “Lucas,” Nancy said slowly. She, Bess, and George exchanged a glance.

  Nancy’s mind began to race. Lucas had been at the Dashing Dog Pet Salon on Friday, when Chip’s collar had disappeared. When Nancy and her friends were at his grandmother’s house, he had acted really strange. And today Petra said that he was at her house—right before Prince Fabian’s collar disappeared.

  It was obvious. Lucas must be the collar thief!

  Nancy jumped to her feet. “Come on,” she said to Bess and George.

  “What?” George said. “Where are we going?”

  “To catch our collar thief,” Nancy said excitedly.

  When Nancy, Bess, and George arrived at Mrs. Vanderpool’s house, there was a long row of cars parked in the driveway. The stone Yorkie statues along the front path were lit up with sparkly white holiday lights.

  “I wonder what’s going on?” Nancy said.

  When the girls knocked on the door, the maid answered. “I’m afraid Mrs. Vanderpool is entertaining,” she apologized.

  Five Yorkies came running up to the door. They jumped up on the maid and made yipping noises. “Stop that! Down!” she ordered them.

  “Did Mrs. Vanderpool get a bunch of new ankle biters . . . I mean, Yorkies?” George asked her.

  The maid shook her head. “No. The members of her kennel club are here. They all own Yorkies.”

  “Myra, who’s there?”

  Mrs. Vanderpool came to the front door. She was wearing a red-and-green holiday sweater with a Yorkie design on it. “Come in, come in,” she greeted the girls. “Did you change your mind about selling me that lovely Stella Sipowitz collar?” she asked Nancy.

  Nancy was surprised. Mrs. Vanderpool must not know that the collar is missing, she thought.

  Out loud, she said, “We’re here to visit Lucas.”

  “Oh, how wonderful!” Mrs. Vanderpool exclaimed. “I think he’s up in his room.”

  Nancy tied Chip’s leash to the stair railing and promised to come right back. Then the girls followed the maid and Mrs. Vanderpool into the house.

  There were Yorkies running around everywhere, yipping at each other. Nancy could see at least ten people in the living room. They were standing around and drinking coffee. They didn’t seem to notice all the noise that the Yorkies were making.

  “Third door on the right,” Mrs. Vanderpool said, nodding at the stairs. “I’m sure Lucas will be glad to see you.”

  She excused herself and went back to her guests. Nancy and her friends started to go upstairs.

  Then Nancy caught sight of Lucas. He was walking down the hallway, away from the living room and all the guests. He kept slipping his hand in and out of his shirt pocket. He didn’t seem to notice Nancy and her friends.

  “There he is!” Nancy whispered to Bess and George. “Let’s follow him!”

  “Where do you think he’s going?” Bess whispered back.

  “I don’t know,” Nancy replied. “But he seems to have something in his pocket.”

  “Maybe it’s the collar,” George whispered.

  “Or the collars, plural!” Bess corrected her.

  The three girls followed Lucas down the hallway. They tried to walk as quietly as possible. Every few seconds they ducked behind a piece of furniture so Lucas wouldn’t spot them.

  Lucas soon reached a door at the end of the hallway. He opened it and started down a set of stairs.

  “He’s going down to the basement,” Nancy whispered.

  They followed him down the stairs on tiptoes. The light in the basement was dim.

  At the bottom Lucas stopped and reached into his shirt pocket. He began to pull something out. . . .

  “Stop! Hand over the stolen loot!” Nancy cried out.

  8

  Unburied Treasure

  Lucas whirled around. His hands fell to his sides. His eyes flashed with fear.

  “I said, hand over the stolen loot!” Nancy repeated.

  “S-stolen loot?” Lucas stammered. “W-what stolen loot?”

  “The doggie collars,” Bess said. “Chip’s collar and Prince Fabian’s collar. You stole them!”

  Lucas glanced around frantically. “What are you talking about? I didn’t steal any collars,” he insisted.

  Nancy pointed to his bulging shirt pocket. “What’s in there, then?”

  Lucas gulped. He reached into his pocket and pulled out something shiny.

  Shiny and round.

  It was a can!

  Nancy pe
ered at it closely. There was a label on it. “Kitty Deelight Gourmet,” she read. “Huh?” She was totally confused.

  Just then Nancy heard a tiny meowing sound. A scruffy yellow kitten came bounding out from behind some cardboard boxes. It purred and rubbed up against Lucas’s leg.

  “Hey, it’s a kitty!” George exclaimed.

  “Her name is Sunshine,” Lucas said. He bent down to pet her. “I mean, that’s what I named her, anyway.”

  “Is she yours?” Nancy asked him curiously.

  “I found her wandering around in the park yesterday morning,” Lucas explained. “She’s a stray. I brought her home so I could clean her up and give her some food.”

  “Oh, that is so sweet!” Bess gushed.

  “How do you know she’s a stray?” George asked him.

  “She was really, really dirty when I found her. I don’t think anyone’s been taking care of her,” Lucas replied.

  “Oh,” George said. “Poor thing!”

  Nancy had a sudden thought. “Is that what you were hiding in your room yesterday?” she asked Lucas. “Is that why the Yorkies were going crazy and sniffing your door?”

  Lucas nodded. “I was hiding Sunshine in my room. But the Yorkies were getting way too curious. So I decided to bring her down here. The Yorkies hate the basement.”

  “So your grandmother doesn’t know about Sunshine?” George said.

  Lucas’s eyes grew huge. “No way! She’d be so mad! Please don’t tell her, okay? I’m going to keep Sunshine down here till next week. Then I’ll take her home with me.”

  Nancy grinned. “Your secret’s safe with us.”

  * * *

  “Lucas isn’t the collar thief,” Nancy announced to Petra.

  Nancy, Bess, and George had stopped by Petra’s house on their way home. They wanted to tell her the news in person.

  “Then who stole Prince Fabian’s collar?” Petra whined. “My mom’s going to be really mad when she finds out I lost it.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll find it,” Nancy reassured her. “But for the moment, we’re back to square one.”

  Nancy pulled her blue notebook out of her pocket. She was about to open it when she heard a scratching noise at the back door. Petra got up to open it.