The Lost Locket

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The Lost Locket Page 2

by Carolyn Keene


  Mr. March laughed. “Sorry,” he said. “Her mother isn’t here right now, and she makes Jenny’s lunch. She and Jenny have gone shopping. Why don’t you just ask Jenny yourself, at school?”

  “Uh, right. Okay, I’ll do that,” Nancy said, hanging up fast.

  “This isn’t working,” Bess said.

  “Maybe not for the kids in our class,” Nancy said. “But I think I’ll try Karen one more time.” Nancy dialed Karen Koombs’s number. “Wish me luck!” she whispered.

  Bess crossed her fingers.

  “Hello, Mrs. Koombs?” Nancy said. “This is Nancy Drew. I’m doing a report for a class project at school. Can you tell me what Karen likes to eat for lunch?”

  “For lunch? Oh, that’s easy,” Mrs. Koombs said. “My kids will eat anything—as long as it has peanut butter on it. So every day I just give them peanut butter with whatever I have in the house!”

  4

  Sniffing Out the Proof

  Karen must be the thief,” Nancy said, hanging up the phone. She told Bess everything Mrs. Koombs had said.

  “I knew it!” Bess said. “Let’s go over to Karen’s house and make her give me my locket back.”

  “We can’t,” Nancy said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because we don’t have any proof,” Nancy said.

  “Whose side are you on, anyway?” Bess asked.

  “Yours,” Nancy said. “And I think Karen took your locket. But my dad says you have to have proof. And we haven’t proved that she stole your locket. All we know for sure is that she eats peanut butter for lunch.”

  Nancy picked up her notebook again. Bess peered over Nancy’s shoulder as she wrote:

  Question: Where did the yucky sandwich come from?

  Answer: Karen Koombs’s lunch!

  “Okay, then let’s go over to her house and get the proof,” Bess said.

  “How about this?” Nancy said. “We’ll go to her house and climb a tree. Then we can look in her bedroom window. Maybe we’ll see the locket. Or we can hide in the bushes until she comes out of the house. Then maybe we’ll catch her wearing it.”

  “Climb a tree?” Bess said weakly.

  Nancy laughed. “Sure. Why not?”

  “You know I’m not good at climbing,” Bess said. “And why do we have to hide in the bushes? Bushes are prickly.”

  “That’s okay,” Nancy said. “I can get someone else to help me.”

  Bess’s face turned hot pink.

  “You mean George. Okay, fine! Get George to help you!” Bess said in a grumpy voice.

  “I will,” Nancy said. “Because George is my friend, too. And if we can make Karen give the locket back, then you and George can be friends again. And we can all go to the movies.”

  “I’m not going to the movies with George, no matter what happens!” Bess announced. She stomped out of the room. Her animal slippers looked funny. The long doggie ears flopped as she walked.

  Nancy picked up her notebook and quietly slipped out the back door.

  What a mess, Nancy thought as she walked the two blocks to George’s house. Now Bess is mad at me, too.

  Nancy rang the bell at George’s house. No one answered. So she walked around to the side. George was shooting baskets in the driveway with her dad. Nancy waited for them to finish. Then she told George about her plan.

  “Okay,” George said. “I’ll help you get the locket back. I feel really bad that it’s gone. But I’m not going to make up with Bess. Not until she says she’s sorry.”

  “For tearing up your soccer picture?” Nancy asked.

  George nodded. “And for calling me that horrible name.” George didn’t even want to say it again. But Nancy knew what she meant. Georgia. George hated her real name.

  When Nancy and George got to Karen Koombs’s house, they ducked into the yard. They hid behind some bushes. Then they circled the house and peeked in the windows.

  “I can’t see anything. We’re not tall enough,” Nancy said.

  “I’ll fix that,” George said with a smile. She turned around and looked behind her. There was a small tree near the house in the backyard.

  George climbed it easily. She sat on a branch facing an upstairs window.

  “It’s Karen’s room,” George called down to Nancy in a loud whisper.

  Nancy looked around to be sure no one was coming. She didn’t want to get caught spying into Karen’s room.

  “What do you see?” Nancy whispered back.

  “I’ll tell you when I come down,” George whispered.

  Nancy waited while George scrambled down the tree. When she got to the lowest branch, she jumped. George loved to jump from high places. She landed with a thump in the soft grass.

  “Did you see the locket? Or anything?” Nancy asked.

  George shook her head. “I couldn’t see anything on her dresser. It was all piled up with clothes and papers and stuff.”

  “Hey—look,” Nancy said. She pointed up to Karen’s bedroom. Someone was peeking out at them from behind one of the curtains.

  “Hi!” George called, waving.

  “Why’d you do that?” Nancy asked.

  “It’s probably Karen. Maybe she’ll come out,” George said.

  But an instant later the curtains snapped shut.

  “Now what?” George asked.

  Nancy shrugged. “Well, we could wait until two o’clock. That’s when the ice cream truck usually comes. Maybe Karen will hear it and come out.”

  “It’s October,” George said. “The ice cream truck stopped coming at the end of summer.”

  “Oh, right,” Nancy said. “Then we could ring the bell and pretend we’re selling Girl Scout cookies. Or we could go home and make some popcorn and bring it over here. Maybe she’ll smell it and come outside.”

  “Did you forget to have lunch today?” George asked.

  Nancy looked at her watch. It was twelve-thirty. “Yes, I guess I did,” she said, blushing. “Why?”

  “Because you sound hungry,” George said. “All your ideas are about food.”

  Nancy laughed. “I am hungry,” she said. “Maybe we should go.”

  George and Nancy walked to the front yard. But as they passed the front door, Nancy sniffed the air. Something smelled good in Karen’s house. Someone was baking cookies!

  Suddenly the front door opened. A little boy came out. He had two cookies—one in each hand.

  “Hi,” he said with his mouth full.

  “Hi,” Nancy said, looking at the cookies. Her stomach growled.

  “What’s your name?” the little boy asked.

  “Nancy. What’s yours?”

  “Jimmy,” the little boy answered. He had a bowl-shaped haircut and pudgy knees.

  “Mmmm,” Nancy said. “Your cookies smell good. What kind are they?”

  “Peanut butter,” the little boy answered.

  Peanut butter! Of course! Nancy thought. She should have recognized that smell. And peanut butter was Karen’s favorite food!

  “I’ll bet your sister likes those cookies, doesn’t she?” Nancy asked.

  Jimmy nodded.

  “Well, you know what I heard?” Nancy said. “I heard that your sister eats peanut butter every day. And someone told me that she even likes it with ketchup and mustard and relish. Is that true?”

  “No, no, no,” Jimmy said, shaking his head and laughing. “That’s silly!”

  “It is?” Nancy asked.

  “Yes,” Jimmy said. “My sister hates relish. It’s her most unfavorite-est food in the whole world!”

  5

  Yuck for Lunch

  Karen hates relish?” Nancy repeated the words, just to be sure.

  Jimmy nodded his head. “I hate it, too,” he said proudly.

  Nancy gave Jimmy a pat on the head. Then she walked a few steps away. She felt confused.

  If Karen hates relish, Nancy thought, then she wouldn’t take a peanut butter and relish sandwich for lunch. So that meant Karen was not
the thief.

  Nancy’s stomach growled again.

  “I’m hungry,” Nancy told George. “I think I’d better go home and eat lunch.”

  “Okay,” George said. “I guess I’ll go home, too.” George started to walk away. But then she called to Nancy.

  “Hey, Nan! Why don’t you have a peanut butter sandwich for lunch? With mustard and ketchup and relish!”

  “Maybe I will,” Nancy said with a laugh. “Maybe I just will.”

  When Nancy got home, she made a peanut butter sandwich—but with strawberry jam. Then she sat down at the kitchen table and took out her blue notebook. She opened it to the page marked “New Suspects.” She crossed Karen Koombs’s name off the list.

  Now what? Nancy wondered as she took a big bite of her sandwich. She stared at the list some more. There were still three suspects left. Jenny March, Mike Minelli, and Ned Nickerson.

  Nancy’s mind was in a jumble. She poured herself a glass of milk and tried to think hard. Who had a good reason to steal the locket? she asked herself.

  Then Nancy thought of a different question. Who was most likely to eat such a weird, yucky sandwich for lunch?

  “I wonder what it tastes like,” Nancy said out loud.

  The peanut butter was still sitting on the counter. So was the bread. Nancy jumped up and went right to work. She spread peanut butter on a single piece of white bread. Then she added mustard. And ketchup. And—worst of all— relish.

  “Here goes,” Nancy said, holding her nose. She took a deep breath and then bravely took a bite.

  “Blechhhh!” Nancy said. She almost spit the sandwich out right on the floor. But she knew better than that. So she ran to the sink. She spit it out there instead.

  “What on earth are you doing?” Hannah asked, coming into the kitchen.

  “I’m a detective,” Nancy said after she had rinsed out her mouth. “I’m investigating.”

  “Well, what did you find out?” Hannah asked.

  “I found out this sandwich tastes as bad as it looks!” Nancy said.

  • • •

  That night Nancy lay awake trying to figure things out. It was fun being a detective. She had already crossed one suspect off her list!

  But it was not fun having Bess and George fighting with each other. Nancy needed a new plan.

  The next morning when she woke up, Nancy called Bess on the phone.

  “Are you still mad at me?” Nancy asked.

  “No,” Bess said. “I guess not.”

  “Good,” Nancy said. “Meet me in the park by the big tree at two o’clock. I have some important news about your locket.”

  “What is it?” Bess asked.

  Nancy lowered her voice and tried to sound mysterious. “I’ll tell you when you get there,” she said.

  Then she called George and said exactly the same thing.

  Then she ate breakfast with her father.

  “Daddy,” Nancy asked, “if Bess and George stop fighting, can we go to the movies this afternoon?”

  “Sure,” her father said. “Don’t tell me they’re still angry with each other.”

  “Yes,” Nancy said. “But maybe I can fix that. I have a plan.”

  Nancy crossed her fingers for good luck. When it was almost two, she walked to the park.

  When Nancy got there, George was waiting by the big tree. She had her hands on her hips.

  “Why did you tell Bess to meet us here?” George asked.

  Nancy looked around. Bess was not there.

  “How do you know I called Bess?” Nancy asked.

  “Because she came to the park exactly at two. But she left when she saw me,” George said. “You tried to trick us, Nancy. And what’s the big news about the locket?”

  “There isn’t any news,” Nancy admitted. “I just wanted you and Bess to make up—so we could all go to the movies this afternoon.”

  “That’s really dumb,” George said.

  Nancy blushed. “Well, when are you and Bess going to make up?” Nancy asked.

  “Never!” George said. “She tore up my soccer picture on purpose. I didn’t lose her locket on purpose.”

  “I guess that’s true,” Nancy said. “But you’re being just as stubborn as she is.”

  George frowned. “Hmmm. I’d hate to be as stubborn as Bess,” she said. Then George and Nancy both laughed.

  “Let’s do something fun,” Nancy said. “Like look for more clues. I still want to find out who stole Bess’s locket.”

  “Aren’t you ever going to stop being a detective?” George said.

  “Nope!” Nancy said happily.

  Nancy took out her notebook and looked at the suspect list. The same three people were left: Jenny March, Mike Minelli, and Ned Nickerson.

  “I’ll bet a boy did it,” Nancy said.

  “Why would a boy steal a locket?” George asked.

  “Just to be mean,” Nancy said. “That yucky sandwich was a mean trick, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes,” George agreed. “But I still don’t think a boy would steal a locket.”

  “Why not?” Nancy asked. “And a boy is more likely to have a yucky sandwich in his lunch, isn’t he?”

  “Maybe,” George said. “But if you think a boy stole it, why don’t you ask him?”

  “Ask who?”

  “Him,” George said.

  Nancy looked up and saw what George was pointing at. There was a boy riding his bike on the path in the distance.

  And he looked exactly like one of Nancy’s main suspects. It looked like Ned Nickerson!

  6

  Brenda’s Sneaky Trick

  Let’s follow him,” Nancy said, staring at Ned Nickerson. “Maybe we’ll see him steal something else. Or maybe we can find out what he eats for lunch.”

  The two girls walked through the red and gold leaves toward Ned. But before they got very far, they heard a girl’s voice behind them.

  “Nancy! George! Wait!” someone called.

  Nancy turned around and saw Brenda Carlton waving to them. Brenda was in Nancy’s class at school.

  “What does she want?” George said.

  “I don’t know,” Nancy said, wrinkling her nose. “Let’s ignore her.”

  “Nancy! Come back!” Brenda called even more loudly this time.

  “Oh, well. Let’s go see what she wants,” Nancy said.

  Nancy turned and walked toward Brenda. But she kept looking back at Ned. She didn’t want him to get away.

  “Guess what?” Brenda said when Nancy and George finally reached the swings. “I found Bess’s locket.”

  “You did?” Nancy couldn’t believe it. “Where?”

  Brenda tried to keep a straight face. But a sneaky smile crept into the corners of her mouth.

  “It’s right here,” she said. “Although I don’t know why Bess made such a big fuss. It’s not very pretty, if you ask me.”

  “Where is it?” Nancy asked again. She felt a lump in her throat. Nancy didn’t want Brenda to solve the case. Not after all the detective work Nancy had done!

  “It’s right there,” Brenda said, pointing at the ground.

  Nancy bent down quickly and saw an old, rusty chain lying in the dirt. It wasn’t a necklace chain. It was the kind of chain that usually hung from a ceiling light or a fan.

  “That’s not Bess’s locket, and you know it,” Nancy said angrily.

  “It’s not?” Brenda said. She opened her eyes wide and pretended to be surprised.

  “No!” Nancy said.

  “Gee,” Brenda said with a mean smile. “I could have sworn it looked like something Bess would wear.”

  “Very funny,” George said, glaring at Brenda.

  Nancy didn’t say anything else to Brenda. She just tugged on George’s sleeve. Then the two of them turned around and walked away.

  When they were far away, Nancy said, “Oooh! She makes me mad sometimes.”

  “Me, too,” George said. “But forget it. I thought you wanted to spy on Ne
d.”

  “I do,” Nancy said.

  “Well, we’d better hurry,” George said. “He’s leaving the park.”

  Nancy and George ran to catch up with him. He was waiting at the corner to walk his bike across the street. Nancy called, “Hi!” as loud as she could.

  “Hi,” Ned said as Nancy and George came running up.

  “Nice bike,” George said.

  “Thanks,” Ned said. “It’s new.”

  “Oh, cool! It has gears,” George said. She stooped down to look at the wheels.

  “Yeah,” Ned said, grinning. “It’s a ten-speed.”

  “Can I sit on it?” George asked.

  Ned paused a minute. Then he said, “Okay.”

  He’s pretty nice, for a boy, Nancy thought. Maybe it was because he was in the fourth grade.

  Still, he was a major suspect in the case. Nancy couldn’t cross him off the list. Yet.

  “Uh, can I ask you something?” Nancy said when George had gotten off his bike. “I’m doing a report about lunches. Do you take your lunch or buy it in the cafeteria?”

  “Both,” Ned said. “What a dumb question!”

  Thanks a lot, Nancy thought. Maybe Ned wasn’t so nice after all.

  “Well, anyway,” Nancy went on, “when you take your lunch, what do you usually take?”

  “Cheese sandwiches,” Ned said.

  “Anything else?”

  “Cookies,” Ned said. “And fruit. And chips. And juice.”

  “I mean, do you ever take any other kind of sandwich?” Nancy said.

  “Why do you want to know?” Ned said. “You’re weird.”

  Nancy blushed. “It’s for a report. I told you. For school,” she said.

  “Oh, yeah. You’ve got Ms. Spencer,” Ned said. “She gives weird stuff for homework. I remember that.”

  “So can you answer my question?” Nancy asked. “What other kinds of sandwiches do you like?”

  “Turkey,” Ned said. “And tuna fish.” Then he looked at his watch. “Gotta go,” he said. He pushed off with his foot and rode across the street.

  When he was gone, Nancy opened her notebook. She crossed Ned’s name off the list. “I don’t think he’s the thief,” she said to George.

 

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