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    151 The Chocolate-Covered Contest

    Page 7
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      George laughed. “After our kiddie coaster

      experience, I think that's probably a good idea.”

      “Anyone who doesn't want to go on Royal Pain can

      come with me,” Bess said. “Instead, we'll go to . . .”

      “The haunted house!” Laura shouted.

      Nancy glanced at her map. “That would be Castle

      Ballyboo. We'll all walk this way, then you go north.”

      As they got closer to Royal Pain, Kenny's eyes grew

      wide. “I didn't realize it was so . . .”

      “Big and scary looking,” Emma said as a car zipped

      overhead, the shrieks of its riders hanging in the air.

      “I'm not going on that,” Ashley said. “No, thanks.”

      “Raise your hand if you're going on Royal Pain with

      me,” George asked.

      “Well, I guess I'll go to the haunted castle with you,”

      Nancy told Bess after she counted only two hands.

      They left George, Katie, and Noah at the roller coaster

      line, which snaked out of the waiting area, around the

      games booths, and back across the drawbridge.

      “I bet we can do three rides in the time it takes them

      to ride Royal Pain,” Bess said as they approached the

      castle door. “And we'll probably still get back to the

      motel first.”

      “This doesn't seem to be one of the park's more

      popular attractions,” Nancy observed. There was no

      line at all. In fact, the entire area around the castle

      appeared to be deserted.

      Nancy struggled with the heavy castle door, which

      creaked open reluctantly. She poked her head into the

      gray gloom. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling. A cold

      mist floated in the air.

      A pair of eyes glowed red in the darkness, and organ

      music played in a minor key.

      “This is so cheesy,” Kenny said. He raced ahead of

      the group. “Fake bats, fake blood, fake screams.”

      “Kenny! Don't get too far ahead of us,” Bess called.

      Her voice echoed back to them, and she shivered.

      “It's cold in here. And I don't care what Kenny says—I

      think it's creepy.”

      They rounded a corner, and Bess paused to examine

      a corpse in a crumbling coffin. “Yuck.”

      Nancy walked ahead with Laura. “Are you coming?”

      she called back to Bess. “Bess?” she repeated.

      The only answer she received was Bess's blood-

      curdling scream.

      10. Touched by a Corpse

      “Nancy!” Bess screamed. “Nan!”

      Nancy raced back through the narrow passageway to

      the spot where she had left Bess.

      Bess stood, frozen, as she pointed toward the coffin.

      “That corpse. It touched me!”

      Cackling laughter filled the air. Nancy felt her skin

      prickle as the “corpse” sat up and took a slow bow.

      Nancy squinted into the darkness. “Kenny?”

      Kenny jumped up and hit his head on the coffin's

      lid. “Ow.”

      “Serves you right,” Bess murmured.

      Kenny ducked under the wooden barrier that

      separated the exhibit from the walking path for the

      public. “I got you good.”

      “You certainly did,” Bess agreed. “That's two near

      heart attacks in the last hour thanks to you Sleuths. My

      quota for the day has been exceeded.”

      Nancy and Bess wound through the rest of the

      exhibit and found the other Sleuths staring at a glowing

      skeleton.

      “Phosphorescence at work,” Emma said. “Who

      would think the haunted house could be educational?”

      “Speaking of educational,” Bess said, “there's time

      for one ride before we go back to the motel so you can

      work on your journals.” She turned to Nancy. “I need a

      nap,” she whispered.

      Nancy nodded. She was tired, too. The sun and the

      water had sapped her energy. So had the endless

      conversation with the Sleuths.

      “You wouldn't believe the wild stuff I found in that

      coffin.” Kenny held out his palm. “The back of

      somebody's earring. A pacifier. And somebody

      obviously didn't like those new Royal gumdrops.”

      “I certainly hope you're planning to wash your hands

      as soon as possible,” Bess said.

      “You're just grumpy because I scared you,” Kenny

      replied.

      “Practically to death,” Bess agreed. “Do you want to

      see my name on one of those tombstones?”

      “No,” Kenny said. “But you'll never guess what

      name I did see on a grave back there.”

      Nancy held up her hands. “You're right. I'll never

      guess.”

      “Cassella,” Kenny said. “You know—as in Andrea.”

      “Hmm.” Nancy's steps slowed as she contemplated

      what Kenny had just said.

      Bess caught Nancy's eye. “I see those wheels

      turning,” she said quietly. “What are you thinking?”

      “I was just wondering . . . I know this sounds

      ridiculous, but if there is a connection between Andrea

      and Robert Castle, could that tombstone have

      something to do with it?”

      Bess made a face. “That's a pretty far-out idea.

      Yikes. I hope not.”

      “I hate to say it, but I hope so. I hope Kenny found

      us a clue. And I hope Andrea can offer us some kind of

      reasonable explanation for all of this.”

      After one more ride, Nancy and Bess helped the

      Sleuths settle in with their homework at the motel.

      Then Nancy called to check on the van. With any luck,

      she was told, it might be ready in the morning. Then

      she phoned the hospital, only to learn that Andrea was

      sleeping—again.

      Nancy sighed. “An unconscious witness is not very

      helpful,” she told Bess.

      “Hey, what's that?” Bess asked, and bent down to

      pick up a piece of paper that had been shoved under

      the front door. “The desk took a message for you, Nan.

      It's from your dad.”

      Nancy felt a twinge of fear. She knew her dad

      probably wouldn't call her unless it was important. She

      hoped nothing was wrong.

      Her father picked up the phone on the first ring.

      “Nothing's wrong,” he said immediately.

      “That's good,” Nancy said, relieved. “So what's going

      on?”

      “Apparently, a woman called here earlier this

      afternoon asking several questions about you,” Mr.

      Drew explained. “Hannah thought you should know.

      Also, could you please reassure her that you're not

      doing anything dangerous?”

      “Sure.” Nancy smiled as she waited for her father to

      hand over the phone. “I'm fine, Hannah. Don't worry

      about me.”

      “That's easy for you to say.” Hannah chuckled.

      “What did this woman ask you when she called?”

      Nancy asked.

      “She said she was a reporter doing a story about one

      of your cases,” Hannah said. “After she asked a few

      questions, I got a bit suspicious. And when I pressed

      her for details, she hung up.”

      “Hmm,” Nancy said. “Is there anything else you can

      tell me about your conversation?”

      “As a matter of
    fact,” Hannah replied, “I noticed

      that there was a lot of noise in the back-ground during

      the call. There were people shouting and laughing, and

      also some sort of tinny music. It was playing—”

      “ Row, Row, Row Your Boat?' ” Nancy asked.

      Hannah clicked her tongue. “Nancy Drew, how did

      you know that?”

      Nancy laughed. “Just a hunch. Thanks, Hannah. You

      did great. And everything's under control here. I

      promise.”

      “What was that all about?” Bess asked as Nancy

      hung up the phone.

      “It seems that someone called my house and tried to

      grill Hannah about me. It also seems that the call came

      from Water Wonderland.”

      “Diana?” Bess wondered.

      “Well,” Nancy said, “we know she was at the water

      park earlier today and seemed to be spying on us. We

      also know someone was doing research on us online in

      the computer lab. Was it the same person? Was it

      Diana? I don't know.”

      George breezed in just then, her short hair tousled

      and her cheeks pink. “That was an awesome ride. It

      was definitely worth the wait. We went on it twice.”

      “Did Katie and Noah love it?” Bess asked.

      “Katie did. Noah said he'll let us know after his

      stomach settles.”

      “I hope you started them on their homework,” Bess

      said.

      George nodded. “Do you think I'd forget my

      chaperoning duties? Noah couldn't wait to interpret his

      data. He thinks Royal Pain is going to edge Labyrinth

      for the title of speed queen by a few centimeters per

      second.”

      There was a knock on the door.

      “Come in!” Bess called.

      The door opened a crack. “I'm sorry to bother you,”

      Laura said. “I'm stuck on this problem. Can you help

      me?”

      Nancy pursed her lips. “We're not exactly science

      experts,” she said, “but we'll give it a try. What is it?”

      “I got a little distracted during the chocolate factory

      tour,” Laura explained, “when Andrea got sick. Have

      you talked to her?”

      Nancy motioned for Laura to sit down. “I was going

      to make an announcement at dinner. Andrea was

      asleep when I called the hospital, so I didn't actually

      speak with her. But she's doing well. She should be

      released in the morning. And the van might be fixed,

      too.”

      Laura seemed relieved. “Thanks, Nancy. It makes

      me feel a lot better to know that.”

      “So,” Bess said, “what's your problem with this

      worksheet?”

      Laura pointed to several diagrams on the page. “If

      you have this many gallons of milk produced by this

      many cows, plus this much sugar cane, how many

      pounds of cacao beans do you need to make this much

      dark chocolate, milk chocolate, and cocoa butter?”

      “Yikes,” Bess said. “Who made up this problem?”

      Nancy leafed through Laura's factory tour notes to

      find the proportions of ingredients in the different

      types of chocolate. With a little guidance, Laura was

      able to plug in the correct values and arrive at an

      answer.

      Laura thanked Nancy for her help. She pressed her

      hand against her growling stomach. “Just thinking

      about all that chocolate makes me hungry—”

      “I'm hungry, too,” Bess said. “Why don't you go back

      to your room and get ready for dinner? We'll be going

      in a few minutes.”

      “What are we eating tonight?” Laura asked.

      “Italian,” Bess replied. “Yum.”

      “Italian . . .” Nancy's voice trailed off.

      “What?” George closed the door behind Laura. “You

      like Italian food, don't you?”

      “No. I mean, yes, I do. I was just thinking. Joyce said

      that the founder of Royal Chocolates was an Italian

      immigrant who changed his name, right?”

      “Mm-hmm.” Bess ran a comb through her tangled

      hair. “And that has something to do with dinner?”

      Nancy shook her head. “Do you know if Andreas

      Italian, Bess?”

      “I think so. Her name sounds Italian. Why?”

      “The founder of Royal Chocolates changed his name

      to Castle. What if his original name was . . . Cassella?”

      Bess gasped. “Are you saying. . . ? Those rich

      relatives of Andrea's?”

      “The Castles?” George guessed.

      “Maybe,” Nancy said. “And maybe, when they

      weren't willing to take her calls about funding for the

      Sleuths, that made her angry.”

      “Angry enough to try to ruin their business?” George

      asked. “To crash the van and plan the allergy attack and

      make an extra instant-win wrapper?”

      “Anger doesn't seem like a very strong motivation to

      go to all that trouble,” Bess argued. “Besides, we don't

      have any proof—”

      “I know,” Nancy said. “I know it sounds crazy. But,

      Bess, I just realized. If Andrea really is related to

      Robert Castle, I think I know why she gave you the

      winning chocolate bar.”

      11. Theory of Relativity

      “Do you remember those documents Joyce had you

      sign?” Nancy asked Bess. “You had to swear you

      weren't related to any employees of Royal Chocolates.

      If you were, you'd be ineligible to win a prize in the

      contest.”

      “I get it,” George said. “That means if Andrea really

      is a Castle, she'd be disqualified if she tried to claim

      the grand prize.”

      “We know Andrea's desperate for money to keep the

      Science Sleuths going,” Nancy said. “Maybe she hoped

      the Castles would donate the money. When they

      refused to meet with her or even hear her out, maybe

      she decided to go to plan B.”

      Bess raised her eyebrows. “Plan B?”

      “You know,” George said. “Forge the winning

      wrapper, give it to you, drop a hint about donating

      some of the money back to the Sleuths, and hope that

      you'd be nice enough to do it.”

      “Okay,” Bess said, “I admit that that would explain

      the rubber cement. It would also explain why Andrea

      lied to us about where she got the chocolates. But it

      still doesn't convince me she could have forged a

      wrapper with the right instant-win code.”

      “I think I know how she did that, too.” George held

      up a hand when Bess frowned. “Just listen, okay? We

      know everybody thinks there's a Pleasant Candies spy

      at Royal. If Andrea really does have a grudge against

      her Castle relatives, what better way to get back at

      them? Royal's had a disastrous year financially. And a

      spy who infiltrated the company could have found out

      the instant-win code, right? If Andrea was working

      with that spy to begin with . . .”

      “That makes sense,” Bess admitted.

      “Whether Andrea's involved or not, I think we're on

      the right track.” Nancy flipped open her address book.

      “We've made a lot of educated guesses with very little

      actual evidence.
    Proof is what we need now. And I

      think we'll find that when we find the Pleasant spy.”

      “Do you have any idea who the spy could be?” Bess

      nodded toward the book in Nancy's hands. “Is that who

      you're calling?”

      “I wish.” Nancy laughed. “Not only don't I know

      who it is, I don't know anything about the person. I

      don't know for sure that the spy was the one

      responsible for leaking the instant-win code. I don't

      know whether he or she knew Andrea, or Diana, or

      both. The only thing I do know is where to look for

      him—or her.”

      Bess inched forward in her chair. “You do?”

      “Well,” Nancy said, “the spy has to work for Royal

      Chocolates, right? We have a contact at Royal

      Chocolates: Joyce, who's also looking for this person. I

      say we pool our resources and see what we can find

      out.”

      Nancy picked up the phone and dialed Joyce's office

      number.

      “I'm glad to hear from you,” Joyce told Nancy when

      she picked up the phone. “Things are really tense

      around here. I hope you have some good news for me.”

      “Not exactly.” Nancy explained that she had not

      been able to speak with Andrea yet. Nor had they been

      able to visit the hospital because the van was in the

      shop and because Andrea was asleep every time she'd

      phoned.

      “What about Diana?” Joyce asked. “Did you dig up

      anything?”

      “Maybe. Just out of curiosity,” Nancy asked, “what

      did Diana tell you her occupation was?”

      “Publishing,” Joyce replied promptly. “Very

      interesting, I know. But if she got hold of the instant-

      win code, I don't know how. She doesn't have any

      connections to Royal that we can discover. I mean,

      besides her attempt to get work with us, which went

      nowhere.”

      “Wait a minute,” Nancy said. “Diana tried to get a

      job at Royal?”

      “Well, sort of. Her publishing company does

      promotional materials for a number of medium-size

      corporations. They tried to recruit us as new clients a

      few months ago. They do a nice job, but we have our

      own printers. Therefore, we had to decline her bid.”

      “How did she react?” Nancy asked.

      “Oh, fine. She went out and got herself hired

      immediately by Pleasant Candies. If you haven't

      noticed, Diana has a true love affair with chocolate.”

      “I've noticed,” Nancy said.

     


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