CHAPTER ONE: YOU’RE INVITED . . .
CHAPTER TWO: FRIENDLY COMPETITION
CHAPTER THREE: THE MISSING BLOOMS
CHAPTER FOUR: TICKTOCK, TICKTOCK
CHAPTER FIVE: UNUSUAL SUSPECTS
CHAPTER SIX: HE SAID, SHE SAID
CHAPTER SEVEN: CAUGHT IN THE ACT
CHAPTER EIGHT: THE MYSTERY MAN
CHAPTER NINE: A CONFESSION
CHAPTER TEN: THE PERFECT ROSE
FLOWER POWER
You’re Invited . . .
“Race you!” Nancy yelled. She pedaled up the steep hill to her house but was nearly out of breath. Bess and George rode behind her on their bikes, trying to keep up.
George pushed down hard on the pedals, doubling her pace. “And George Fayne is pulling into the lead. . . .” She lowered her voice so she sounded like a sports announcer. Her bike wheel inched in front of Nancy’s. “It’s a close race here in River Heights. Who will win? It’s anyone’s guess!”
Bess climbed off her bike. She held on to the handlebars as she walked up the hill. After riding around the neighborhood for an hour, Bess was too tired to race her friends. Instead she played the cheerleader, rooting for best friend Nancy Drew. “Come on, Nancy! Don’t give up just yet!”
Nancy pushed as hard as she could. She leaned forward, gripping the handlebars. George and Nancy were neck and neck. As they climbed to the top of the hill, the rest of the neighborhood came into view. The street dead-ended, with just five houses up ahead. Nancy pedaled as fast as she was able to, but George was faster. Just as the road flattened out George pulled ahead. She threw one arm up and hooted.
“I did it! George Fayne is the winner!” She laughed.
Nancy smiled. She’d known her best friends, Bess Marvin and George Fayne, since before they could talk. Bess and George were cousins, and they loved doing everything with Nancy. Together they rode bikes, had sleepovers, and danced around Bess’s room to silly songs on the radio. They spent summers swimming and camping, and winter breaks building snow forts. But their favorite thing to do was solve mysteries. Together they formed the Clue Crew. It seemed like they were always finding cases in their hometown of River Heights.
George’s fist was still raised high in the air. Seeing how excited she was, Nancy couldn’t help but laugh. “You won fair and square,” Nancy said. “But tomorrow there’ll be a rematch!”
Nancy’s house came into view up ahead. George pointed to a blue house with white shutters just a few doors down. “Look! The lights are on. Miss Bouret must be back.”
Bess rode up beside them. The girls paused at the picket fence, which was covered in pink blooming flowers. The front door was open and the sprinkler was on. Those seemed like sure signs that Miss Bouret had returned from her two-week-long trip to Paris.
Nancy glanced at the rosebushes that lined the front of the house. Mimsy Bouret, one of Nancy’s favorite neighbors, had a garden that looked like it was out of a magazine. There were blooming plants everywhere. Mimsy loved to walk around her garden, teaching Nancy and her friends the names of all the different plants. There were gardenias, lilacs, hydrangeas, and tulips. Her most impressive flowers were her roses, though, which she put Nancy in charge of while she was away. Every afternoon Nancy carefully watered the plants. She always made sure to give them just the right amount. Taking care of Miss Bouret’s garden was a big task, and Nancy worried that she might mess it up. But the peach roses still looked perfect.
Just then the front door opened. “Hello, my little darlings!” she cried as she sashayed out of her house. Her red curls were piled on the top of her head and she wore a floral blouse with lace around the collar. The entire four years Nancy had known Miss Bouret, she’d never seen her in anything except flower-print shirts. Sometimes it seemed like everything she owned was covered with tiny roses or blooming lilies, even her socks.
“You’re back!” Nancy called out. She set her bike against the fence and stepped inside the yard. It smelled like the Perfume Mania store in the River Heights Mall. “How was Paris?”
“Fabulous!” Miss Bouret shouted. “I shopped and did some sightseeing. The Eiffel Tower, the Louvre Museum. I walked along the River Seine and I ate about ten pounds’ worth of chocolate. There’s this place, Angelina, where they serve the most delightful hot chocolate. The best thing you’ve ever tasted in your life. It’s like drinking a chocolate bar!”
“Mmmm . . . chocolate,” Bess said. She raised her eyebrows at Nancy.
“In fact, I brought you back some as a thank-you.” Miss Bouret held up a gold box in her hands. “You took such great care of my beautiful babies. I wasn’t sure if I could leave them for two weeks, especially with the annual Garden Society Show just around the corner. But they look better than they ever have. Thank you, Nancy. Or as they say in French . . . merci!” She leaned over and kissed Nancy on both cheeks.
“You’re very welcome. I was happy to, really.” Nancy blushed. She looked down at the gold box in her hands. It was decorated with a bright pink bow.
“Tell us more about France,” George said. She inched closer to Mimsy. They always loved hearing about her travels. When she went to Africa the previous year, they’d listened to her talk about the lion pride she saw on safari. She’d spotted hippos and monkeys, and even come within a few feet of a giraffe.
Miss Bouret stared off and smiled. “Oh, it was just . . . mesmerizing. I found a little cheese shop on the Seine. I must’ve sat there for hours, talking to the waiters and tasting everything in the place. Paris is just divine. You girls will have to go once you’re old enough.” She clasped her hands to her heart. It was then Nancy noticed she was holding a thick beige card.
“What’s that?” Nancy asked.
“This?” Mimsy said, holding it up. “It’s the other part of your thank-you present. You’re all invited.”
Mimsy handed Nancy the thick piece of paper. Bess and George huddled around her. You’re Invited to the 16th Annual Garden Society Show, it read. Nancy scanned the details. The event was taking place next weekend at Le Chateau, one of the fanciest spots in River Heights. Nancy had heard of it only once before—it was where her second cousin had gotten married.
“There’ll be bouquets from all over the state,” Mimsy said. “If that doesn’t convince you, you’ll be swayed by the desserts. This year the famous pastry chef Jean-Claude will be there. He’s coming all the way from New York City.”
“I’ve seen him on the cooking channel!” George cried. “That guy is famous.”
“Indeed he is,” Mimsy said. “I’d love for you girls to come as my VIP guests.”
Bess bit her lip. “What do you mean, VIP?”
“It means we’re very important people.” George smiled. She bounced up and down on her toes as she said it.
“Yes, very important,” Mimsy agreed. “Because of you, Nancy, I have a chance of winning first place in the Rose Garden. My roses are more impressive than they have been in years. I might actually beat Mrs. Geraldine DeWitt, and she wins every year. So what do you say, will you be my guests?”
The girls glanced sideways at each other. A famous chef, beautiful flowers, and the fanciest country club in all of River Heights. It wasn’t even a question. “Yes!” the girls cried together.
Nancy held the invitation in the air. She hadn’t been this excited since the first day of summer vacation. “Of course we will. Yes!”
Friendly Competition
The volleyball flew over the net. It was headed right for Nancy’s face. At the last second she hit it with both hands. The ball arced up and over the net, just inches from Deirdre Shannon. She’d barely reached out when it bounced off the floor. “And that’s the game!” Mrs. Velez, the River Heights Ele
mentary gym teacher, yelled. She blew her whistle. “The score is ten to eight. Nancy, Bess, and George win this one.”
Deirdre scrunched her nose like she’d just smelled something rotten. Behind her, her friend Suzie Park crossed her arms over her chest. Nancy and her friends had had enough gym classes with them to know how competitive they were. Most of the time they were okay, but they hated losing. They’d thrown tantrums last week when they lost a tennis match. They talked to Mrs. Velez right up until the bell rang, arguing that the other team had cheated.
George pulled Nancy and Bess away, changing the subject before Deirdre could say anything to them. “So I finally picked out my dress for the Garden Society Show,” she said. “It’s blue and shimmery.”
Nancy grabbed her knapsack from the bleachers. Then she pulled her sweaty hair back into a ponytail. “I can’t wait to see it. Hannah wants me to wear the dress I wore to the Spring Fling last year.”
Bess slung her backpack over one shoulder. The girls had known Hannah, the Drews’ housekeeper, for a long time. After Nancy’s mom died, Hannah had helped Nancy’s dad look after her. She was the one who made them snacks after school or drove them to the movies on the weekends. “I love that dress. This party is going to be incredible. Just us, unlimited desserts, and a room full of flowers. There’s no way it won’t be fun.”
“Are you talking about the Garden Society Show?” a voice asked. The girls turned around to see Deirdre and Suzie standing just a few feet behind them. Deirdre’s cheeks were still flushed from the volleyball game.
Nancy glanced sideways at her friends. “That’s the one. . . . Why?”
Deirdre laughed. “Is this your first time going? We go every year. My aunt is Geraldine DeWitt. Her roses always win—always. I don’t know why they even bother having the competition.”
Bess grabbed Nancy’s arm. “Isn’t that the woman Miss Bouret was talking about?” she whispered. Nancy nodded, remembering the name.
Three volleyball games were finishing up behind them. Girls sprinted across the courts, kneeling down to hit shots back over the net. Mrs. Velez blew her whistle twice more. “Great then,” Nancy said. She tried hard to sound cheerful. “We’ll see you there.” The last thing she wanted was to get into a fight with Deirdre. She was one of the meanest girls at River Heights Elementary. Just when Nancy thought she’d been wrong about Deirdre, that maybe they could be friends, Deirdre would do something to change Nancy’s mind. Sometimes it was just a rude comment, but other times she’d actually made fun of Bess or George.
Nancy turned to go, but Deirdre followed them. “So how did you three get an invite?” she asked.
George stood up straight. “We’re going as Mimsy Bouret’s VIP guests.”
Suzie whispered something to Deirdre and they both laughed. “VIP, huh?”
“That’s right,” Bess said. She tucked her thumbs under the straps of her backpack.
“I’ve never heard of a VIP guest at the Garden Society Show. There’s just the winners . . . and everyone else. Like your friend.”
“Well, maybe Miss Bouret will win this year. Everyone’s saying her roses are the most impressive they’ve ever been. She might be taking first place this year,” Bess added.
“I really doubt that,” Deirdre said.
Nancy looked at the clock. In one minute the period would be over. They’d be free to go. It was miserable standing here listening to Deirdre brag about her aunt and question them about their invitation. Why did Deirdre care so much anyway? Everyone liked to win. It didn’t matter if it was some silly bike race or a volleyball game. But was winning really everything?
“We’ll see you on Saturday,” Nancy said, turning to her friends. She widened her eyes, as if to say, Come on, let’s get out of here. Bess and George followed her toward the door just as the bell rang.
“I cannot wait,” Deirdre called out.
When Nancy looked back, Suzie and Deirdre were smiling and laughing. Nancy swore she heard them say something mean under their breath.
“Don’t worry, Miss Bouret is definitely going to win,” Bess whispered. “You heard her. Her roses are the best they’ve been in years.”
But Nancy still felt a little uneasy. She and her friends had been looking forward to the Garden Society Show all week. They’d picked out their outfits, painted their nails, and imagined all kinds of crazy desserts. Now that Deirdre and Suzie were coming, it was definitely going to change things.
Nancy only hoped it would be for better, not for worse.
The Missing Blooms
“Voilà!” Mimsy cried as they stepped into the Grand Ballroom of Le Chateau. It was the fanciest place Nancy and her friends had ever seen. Marble pillars lined the entranceway. A statue of a woman stood above a stone fountain. The ceiling was painted with clouds, and everywhere they turned there were flowers, hundreds of bouquets of every color and size.
A waiter in a tuxedo and white gloves strode up to the girls. “Would you like some caviar?” he asked.
“What’s that?” Bess whispered.
Mimsy picked up a thin cracker. It was covered with tiny orange globes. “Fish eggs. A delicacy,” she said. Then she popped it in her mouth.
Nancy and George scrunched their noses. “Fish eggs?” George said under her breath. “Gross!”
“You may not like caviar,” Miss Bouret said, “but I’m sure you’ll like that.” She pointed across the Grand Ballroom. There, in the center of a pile of cookies, stood a four-foot-tall chocolate fountain. People huddled around it. They dipped in pieces of cake, strawberries, and slices of banana.
Bess ran over, Nancy and George trailing right behind her. She picked up one of the fruit skewers and dipped it in the chocolate waterfall. “This is the best fountain I’ve ever seen,” she said. When she took a bite, her brown eyes looked like they might pop out of her head. “Much better than the water fountains at school.”
Nancy and George dipped pound cake and vanilla cookies into the chocolate. Nancy had never tasted anything so good. Together they made all sorts of combinations. They made chocolate with bananas, chocolate with mint cookies, and chocolate with strawberries.
“The pineapple is the best,” Bess said. She popped another piece of fruit in her mouth.
The girls glanced around the Grand Ballroom. It was as big as a football field. Across the way, Mimsy chatted with a woman holding a bouquet of tulips. Mimsy was still fixing her hair. She’d driven the girls to the show this morning in her bright blue convertible. Nancy had begged her dad for permission to ride to the show with Mimsy, and he’d finally agreed, but only if he came at five o’clock to take the girls home.
Next to Mimsy, a few ladies huddled around a vase of purple hydrangeas. Some pinched the petals. The man beside Nancy dunked another cookie into the fountain. “And this is only the beginning!” He laughed. “Be sure to save room for Jean-Claude’s famous chocolate mousse cake. Apparently it takes over a week to prepare.” When he smiled, Nancy noticed a clump of chocolate in his gray beard.
“I’m starting to get a stomachache,” Bess groaned.
“Look at those,” George said, distracted. She pointed to a table filled with bright pink orchids. The girls strolled over, getting within a few inches of the flowering plants.
An older woman with thick black glasses stepped beside them. “So, you have discovered my phalaenopsis!” The woman clapped her hands as she said it.
“Phal—who?” Nancy asked. That was one flower Miss Bouret didn’t have. Nancy hadn’t heard of anything like it.
“They’re sometimes called moth orchids,” the woman said. She pointed to the bright pink flower in the center. “This particular one grows upside down, under a canopy of trees. That way it’s protected from direct sunlight. I’d show you how, but I don’t want to flip over the pot. The judging is going to start soon.”
The girls leaned forward, their noses just inches from the flower. “It does kind of look like a moth . . . ,” George said as she studied the
petals.
“But much cooler . . . ,” Bess added.
A redhead with glasses strode by. She paused in front of the plants. “Would you like a picture with Mrs. Hamilton’s famous orchid?” She held up a camera with a long lens.
Nancy wrapped her arms around her friends. Mrs. Hamilton stood behind them, posed next to her pink orchid. They all smiled as the photographer snapped away. When the photos were done, Nancy and her friends looked at world-famous lilies, then at pictures of the winning bouquets from last year. They tasted some of the best appetizers, like brie cheese and coconut shrimp. They were so busy eating chicken skewers they hardly noticed Deirdre and Suzie as they strolled by arm in arm.
“So happy you’re here,” Deirdre said. But she didn’t sound happy. Suzie hovered right behind her, like they were connected. “That’s my aunt Geraldine . . . and her famous roses.” She pointed at a table across the way. A woman with a tight gray bun and red lipstick hovered over two bouquets. Each was filled with pink roses, the petals a little purple around the edges. Nancy, Bess, and George had never seen award-winning roses before. They looked too perfect to be real.
“They are pretty,” Bess admitted.
“Miss Bouret was just here a minute ago,” Nancy said as she looked around. It took them a moment to spot Mimsy, even with her bright dress and floral scarf. She was surrounded by people. She held up her bouquet of peach roses as a few of her friends looked on.
“These are extraordinary!” a blond woman cried. “Your rosebush hasn’t flowered like that in years. You’ll have to tell me your secret.”
A woman with jeweled glasses inched closer. “You’re going to take first place this year. It’s a crime if you don’t.” Nancy stared at Mimsy’s bouquet, which was nearly twice the size of Geraldine DeWitt’s. Each rose was the size of a large apple. She was beginning to think the woman had a point. Maybe Miss Bouret would win.
Deirdre crossed her arms over her chest. “My aunt wins every year. Every. Single. Year.” She narrowed her eyes at the girls, daring them to say something.