The bell rang then, signaling the end of recess. Saved by the bell, Nancy thought.
“Okay, well, thanks, Gaby,” Nancy said quickly. “We’ll let you know if the Clue Crew needs your help solving the case!”
“The ghost of River Heights Elementary School?” Bess said in disbelief.
“Mrs. Bailey?” added George.
“Well, at least Gaby’s trying to find the chicks,” Nancy said. “That’s more than some people are doing.”
It was after school on Monday. Nancy and her friends were walking to Catherine Spangler’s house. The Spanglers lived around the corner from Nancy. Hannah had given the three girls permission to go by themselves.
The Spanglers house was white with red shutters. The front yard was filled with bright yellow daffodils that swayed in the spring breeze.
Nancy, George, and Bess went up to the front door and knocked. After a moment, a woman with honey blond hair answered the door. Nancy recognized her as Mrs. Spangler.
Then Nancy noticed something interesting. Mrs. Spangler was holding a spool of red thread, a package of sewing needles, and a small pair of scissors.
“Hello,” Mrs. Spangler said with a smile. “Are you girls looking for Catherine?”
“Is she home?” Nancy asked her. “We wanted to, um, say hi and see how she was feeling.”
“Well, I’m sure she’ll be glad for some company,” said Mrs. Spangler. “Why don’t you come in and wait in the living room? I’ll go find her.”
“Thank you,” George said.
Mrs. Spangler disappeared down the hall. “Did you guys notice the red thread and needles and scissors?” Nancy whispered to George and Bess as they sat down on the couch.
Bess nodded. “I guess Mrs. Spangler is sewing something.”
“Something … like maybe a new red button?” Nancy suggested.
George’s face lit up. “Nancy, you’re a genius!”
Nancy was about to reply when she noticed something else.
She turned her head and sniffed. She sniffed again.
“Uh, Nancy? What are you doing?” Bess asked her curiously.
“Do you smell that?” Nancy asked her friends.
George and Bess began sniffing too. “It’s … kind of sweet,” said George after a moment.
“It’s bubblegum!” Bess exclaimed.
Nancy glanced around the room. She spotted a sketch pad and a box of markers on a side table.
She walked over to the table and picked up the box of markers. She sniffed and sniffed. The markers definitely smelled like bubblegum!
Nancy rooted through the markers. She had to find one that was blue-green. Or aquamarine. Or turquoise.
“What do you think you’re doing, Nancy Drew?” someone demanded.
Nancy whirled around. Catherine was standing in the doorway. She looked really, really mad.
Catherine stood in the doorway, leaning on a pair of crutches. Her right ankle was wrapped in beige-colored cloth tape.
Nancy smiled awkwardly at Catherine. George and Bess did too.
“Uh, hi, Catherine,” said Nancy. She tried to think of what to say next. “I was just, uh, checking out your super-cool markers.”
“No, you weren’t. You were snooping,” Catherine said accusingly. “My friend Payton told me you’re detectives or something. Well, go find a mystery to solve somewhere else!”
Nancy was about to reply when she spotted a blue-green marker in the box of markers. She reached in and plucked it out. She tried to hide her excitement. She had found an important clue!
“Nancy, it’s the aquamarine marker!” Bess blurted out.
“You mean the turquoise marker,” George corrected her cousin.
Nancy held the marker out to Catherine. “This is the same color marker that someone used to mess up Tommy’s poster,” she said slowly. “It has the same bubblegum smell, too.”
“W-what are you t-talking about?” Catherine stammered. She wobbled slightly on her crutches.
“We also found a red button near the chicks’ pen, right after their food was stolen,” Bess piped up.
“And speaking of red … we noticed that your mom is sewing something with red thread,” George added.
Catherine opened her mouth, then clamped it shut.
Nancy walked up to Catherine and put a hand on her shoulder. “We know you were really upset about your birthday,” she said quietly. “The chicks got lots and lots of attention. You got zero attention.”
Catherine stared at Nancy for a long moment. She sighed.
“Okay, I confess,” Catherine said finally. “But please don’t tell my parents, okay? I’ll get into such big trouble!”
“Tell us what happened,” said Bess.
Catherine sighed again. “You were right … I mean, what you said about me being really upset about my birthday. I figured it was the chicks’ fault that everyone forgot about my special day. So I … well, I kind of messed up Tommy’s poster on Wednesday, when no one was looking. And Thursday, at the end of the day, I took the bag of chick food and hid it in the supply closet. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone or get anyone in trouble.” She hung her head and stared at the ground.
Nancy thought about this. “What about the chicks?” she asked Catherine after a moment. “Did you steal them too?”
Catherine gasped. “No way! I would never do something like that! I didn’t even know about it until Payton called to tell me, like, half an hour ago.” She added, “Besides, I sprained my ankle right after I came home from school on Thursday. There’s no way I could have hobbled to school on my own and stolen the chicks.”
Nancy thought about this, too. What Catherine said made sense. There was no way she could have committed the chick-napping with a sprained ankle.
“I’ll tell Mrs. Ramirez and Tommy I’m sorry as soon as I’m back in school,” Catherine went on. “I’m making Tommy a new chick poster, too. I promise.” She added, “And if there’s anything I can do to help you find the chicks, I’ll do it! You can count on me.”
“I think we should get a pizza with extra pepperoni,” Nancy suggested.
“Plus green peppers and mushrooms and onions,” added George.
“Plus lots and lots of pineapple.” Bess giggled.
“Pineapple?” Hannah repeated with a chuckle. “I’m not sure about that one.”
Nancy, George, Bess, and Hannah were sitting in a booth at Pizza Paradise. It was Monday night, and Hannah had brought the girls to the downtown pizza parlor for dinner. On the way there, the girls had filled Hannah in on the latest developments in their case, including the chick-napping.
The waitress brought a pitcher of lemonade and four glasses for the table. “I’ll be back in a sec for your pizza order, ladies,” she said in a friendly voice.
Hannah turned to Nancy. “So who are your suspects so far?” she asked curiously.
Nancy took a sip of her lemonade. “Well, Catherine admitted that she messed up Tommy’s poster and stole the chick food.”
“But she says she isn’t the chick-napper, and we believe her because she sprained her ankle last Thursday,” George added.
“We do have a suspect for the chick-napping,” Bess piped up. “His name is Antonio. He’s in our class at school. He’s really, really evil.”
“Why do you suspect him?” Hannah asked Bess.
“Well, because he’s really, really evil, of course,” Bess replied matter-of-factly. “At recess today, he told us that he’d fed the chicks to his cat, Monster. Before that, he told the whole class that the chicks would be sold to a restaurant and turned into fried chicken. Can you believe it?”
George leaned over and squinted out the window. “Hey, guys? Speaking of Antonio …” She pointed.
Nancy, Bess, and Hannah craned their necks. Antonio was across the street from Pizza Paradise. He was holding a cardboard box in his arms. He walked into a restaurant, carrying the box.
The sign outside the restaurant said CHEZ FANO in swirly
gold letters.
“I wonder what he’s doing,” Nancy said, puzzled.
“And I wonder what’s in that box?” added George.
Just then, Bess let out a little cry. She stood up abruptly, bumping into the table and practically spilling the entire pitcher of lemonade.
“Bess, what’s wrong?” Hannah asked her, concerned.
“Antonio is walking into a restaurant. With a box,” Bess practically shouted. “I bet the chicks are in that box. And I bet he’s selling them to the restaurant. The chicks are going to be turned into fried chicken!”
“No way!” Nancy and George exclaimed together.
“Way,” Bess insisted.
“Antonio is evil, but he’s not that evil,” Nancy argued.
“Or is he?” George looked uncertain.
“He’s the one who was talking about the chicks being turned into fried chicken,” Bess reminded her friends. “Come on, guys. We have to save the poor little chicks!” She ran toward the front door.
Nancy and George followed. Hannah handed the waitress some money for the lemonades. “We’re in the middle of an, um, chick emergency,” she told the waitress. “We’ll be back in a few minutes to order our pizzas.”
“A chick emergency?” the waitress repeated, confused.
The three girls and Hannah rushed out of Pizza Paradise. They waited for a WALK signal and crossed the street.
Chez Fano was a brick building with an elegant red door. The windows had lace curtains and window boxes full of purple pansies.
“Will you go in first?” Nancy asked Hannah. “This looks like a grown-up restaurant. And you’re a grown-up.”
Hannah laughed. “Sure. Follow me.”
Hannah opened the red door and walked in. The three girls trailed after her. “I hope it’s not too late,” Bess whispered to Nancy and George.
“Don’t worry, Bess. If the chicks are here, we’ll save them,” Nancy whispered back.
Inside was a small waiting area with plush velvet chairs. Classical music played softly.
A man glanced at Nancy’s group. He wore a black tuxedo and silver wire-rimmed glasses. Nancy guessed that he must be the maître d’, who was in charge of seating customers.
The maître d’ pushed his glasses up his nose and frowned at Hannah. She was dressed in jeans and a gray River Heights Elementary School sweatshirt. He also frowned at the girls, who were wearing cargo pants and T-shirts.
The maître d’ cleared his throat. “I am afraid that we have a dress code here at Chez Fano,” he said coldly.
Bess put her hands on her hips. “Are you telling us that we don’t know anything about fashion?” she demanded. “For your information, ‘style’ is my middle name. Do you see this T-shirt? Do you know where I got it? I got it at—”
Nancy interrupted. “Um, we’re actually not here to eat dinner,” she explained to the maître d’. She didn’t want Bess to get into a fashion argument with him.
“Oh? Then why are you here?” the man asked.
“Does Chez Fano serve fried chicken?” George blurted out.
“Fried chicken?” the maître d’ repeated. “Absolutely not. The only chicken dishes on Chez Fano’s menu are … let us see … Chicken Veronique, Chicken Cordon Bleu, and Poulet Roti.”
“Maybe the chicks are going to be turned into this poo-lay ro-tee or whatever,” Bess whispered to Nancy and George.
Nancy turned to the maître d’. “We’re looking for a boy who came in here a few minutes ago. He’s eight or nine years old, tall, with dark brown hair. He was carrying a cardboard box.”
The man smiled. “Ah, yes, of course. Little Tony. Are you friends of his? Why didn’t you say so?”
“Little Tony?” Nancy, George, and Bess said in unison.
“Just one moment, please. I will get him for you. The maître d’ disappeared through a set of double doors.
“Little Tony?” Nancy, George, and Bess said again.
A few minutes later, the maître d’ returned to the lobby with Antonio. Antonio stared at the three girls and Hannah. He looked totally confused.
“W-what are you doing here?” he stammered.
“We want to know what you’ve done with the box of chicks,” George told him.
Antonio made a face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You girls are crazy!”
Bess pointed a finger at Antonio. “You stole the chicks and brought them here! You’re going to sell them to Chez Fano so they can be turned into poo-lay ro-tee!”
“We saw you walking in here with a box,” Nancy added.
“A box?” Antonio said, puzzled. Then he started laughing. “Oh, that box. Okay, time-out here. This place is my parents’ restaurant. Chez Fano. Get it? Fano is short for our last name, Elefano.”
“This … is your parents’ restaurant?” Nancy asked him, surprised.
Antonio nodded. “And that box? They’re new menus. I was helping my dad carry them from our car. Wait, I’ll prove it to you.”
He disappeared through the double doors. He came back out, carrying the box from before.
Nancy and the girls peered into the box. It was full of … menus.
Nancy smiled sheepishly at Antonio. “I guess we owe you an apology.”
Antonio grinned. “Yeah. Besides, I already told you. I fed the chicks to my cat Monster!”
“We’re back to square one,” Bess said to Nancy and George.
It was Tuesday. The girls were sitting in the cafeteria, eating lunch.
Nancy took a big bite of her peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. Hannah made the best peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches ever. “We’re not totally back to square one,” she said after a moment. “Antonio could still be our chick-napper. We just don’t have any proof.”
“We need to think of more suspects,” George suggested. “Who else had a motive to steal the chicks?”
Nancy thought about this. Criminals had to have a motive to commit their crimes. But they also had to have the opportunity.
Catherine had a motive: She was mad at the chicks for stealing birthday attention away from her. But she didn’t have the opportunity; she had a sprained ankle.
But could Catherine have gotten some-one else to steal the chicks for her? Nancy wondered. Someone like her friend Payton? But that seemed like a crazy idea. Would a friend do something so wrong for another friend?
Nancy glanced around the cafeteria, looking for Payton. But someone—or rather, something—else caught her eye.
Tommy Maron—aka Mr. Chick Lover—was sitting at the next table by himself. His head was bent low over a book. He was reading it very carefully, almost like he was studying for a test.
Nancy squinted at the cover of the book. It had a picture of a chick on it. She tried to make out the title.
It was How to Take Care of Your Pet Chicks.
Nancy’s heart began racing. Why was Tommy reading a book on chick care?
Did he steal the chicks? she wondered.
Nancy put down her peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. She leaned across the table. “Don’t look now,” she whispered to George and Bess. “But Tommy Maron is reading a book called How to Take Care of Your Pet Chicks.”
“So?” Bess whispered back. “Tommy’s a chick fanatic.”
Nancy nodded. “Exactly. Maybe he’s such a chick fanatic that—”
“He had to have the chicks, even if he had to steal them,” George finished. “Nancy, you’re a genius!”
Bess glanced quickly at Tommy, then back at Nancy. “Omigosh! So you think that he might be our chick-napper?” she whispered.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Nancy said. She got up and walked over to Tommy’s table. George and Bess followed.
“Hi, Tommy,” said Nancy in a friendly voice. “What are you reading?”
Tommy looked up. “What, this?” he said, indicating his chick book.
“You stole the twelve baby chicks, didn’t you, Tommy Maron?”
Nancy gasped
in surprise. That question didn’t come from her. Or George. Or Bess.
The person who had hurled the accusation was Gaby Small!
Gaby was marching up to Tommy’s table. She had her hands on her hips, and she looked mad.
“That’s why you’re reading this book, isn’t it, Tommy?” Gaby continued. “You’re hiding the chicks in a top secret location, aren’t you?”
Tommy’s jaw dropped. “Um, w-what are you t-talking about, Gaby?” he stammered. “I-I didn’t steal the chicks. I-I would never do anything to h-hurt them!”
Nancy stared at Gaby. She wondered if Gaby had been eavesdropping on her conversation with George and Bess—again.
Nancy turned to Tommy. “If you didn’t steal the chicks, then why are you reading a book on chick care?” she asked him quietly.
“Because it’s interesting,” Tommy replied. “I love anything having to do with chicks. This book is full of cool facts. Did you know that some breeds of chickens lay colored eggs, like blue and green?”
“Where did you get the book?” George asked him.
“I found it on the floor near my locker this morning,” Tommy explained. “I was going to turn it in to the Lost and Found right away. But then I started reading it, and I couldn’t stop. I figured I’d finish reading it, then turn it in.” He blushed. “Was that a bad thing to do? It was a bad thing to do, wasn’t it?”
Nancy thought about this. “Can I see the book for a sec, Tommy?”
“Uh, sure.” Tommy held out the book.
But before Nancy could take the book from Tommy, Gaby grabbed it. “I’m seizing this book as evidence,” she declared, stuffing it under her arm. “You’re a chick-napper, Tommy. And you’re obviously covering up for your crime. I’m going to see that you’re brought to justice!”
With that, Gaby turned around and marched away.
“But I didn’t steal the chicks!” Tommy protested to Nancy, George, and Bess.
Nancy stared after Gaby. Gaby had told the Clue Crew the other day that she had always wanted to be a detective.