Intruder!

by Carolyn Keene

  I laughed. “You’ll get seven years’ bad luck all right,” I said, nodding to Officer Madison.

  15

  Tea Is Served

  After the police hauled away the Cardinal Corners culprits in a squad car, Mrs. Olsen served us hot chocolate and cookies in the kitchen. We were exhilarated by our success, but tired, too, and we went to bed shortly after stacking our dishes in the sink.

  Bess and I slept in until nine o’clock the next morning. Glancing at the time, I immediately called my dad at home to tell him what had happened the night before.

  “Another case successfully solved. Good work, Nancy.” I could hear the pride in his voice.

  “Thanks, Dad,” I replied. “And thanks for having Chief McGinnis send the patrol car.”

  When I got up to get dressed, I glanced down at that last drawer again while retrieving my clothes from the armoire. Too impatient to wait, I ran down to the kitchen and got a butter knife. I went back upstairs and now Bess joined in, helping me wedge the knife into the bottom of the drawer.

  Mrs. Olsen came upstairs to tell us she’d made waffles for breakfast. She found Bess and me on the floor, battling with her armoire.

  “Girls, be careful. That’s a valuable antique,” Mrs. Olsen warned.

  Once we’d managed to build up enough leverage, the piece of wood popped up with a jerk.

  “Oh dear!” Mrs. Olsen exclaimed. “Did you break it?”

  “Not quite,” I replied, pulling up the wood to reveal the drawer’s hidden section.

  Her mouth dropped open when I pulled a gray sock out of the back. It was fat and lumpy and obviously stuffed with something.

  “What do you think is inside?” I asked, handing it to her.

  “I can guess!” Bess declared. “The bootlegger’s forgotten stash.”

  Bess was right. Mr. Olsen counted the wad of bills and smoothed them out at the table while we ate. There was almost two thousand dollars.

  “That was a small fortune back in the twenties,” Luther said later over coffee.

  “I can’t believe it, Nancy!” Mr. Olsen declared. “You caught the intruders and discovered old man Rappapport’s money, too. We don’t know how to thank you.”

  Lifting his glass of orange juice, he proposed a toast. “Three cheers for Nancy Drew—detective extraordinaire!”

  Everyone raised their glasses and cheered. I blushed. I was greatly relieved to have solved the riddle of the broken teapots in time for the fund-raiser to take place as planned. Finding the money in the armoire was just a lucky coincidence.

  On our way home, Bess and I stopped by Julia Jute’s place to pick up our gowns for the tea. “George will be sorry she missed all the excitement,” Bess said when I dropped her off at her house.

  “At least she’ll be with us when the last mystery in this case is solved,” I replied.

  Bess frowned and asked, “What are you talking about?”

  “Ned’s surprise,” I said, smiling. I’ll admit I was more than a little curious.

  At home Hannah was waiting eagerly to hear about my adventures from the night before. She admired my gown for the tea and was particularly relieved when I told her that Juan Tabo had not been stalking me. Mrs. Mahoney was thrilled too with my report and promised to inform the committee that the tea would go on as planned.

  “I’m really looking forward to the event,” she told me.

  “So am I,” I admitted.

  The next day, I took my time getting ready. I curled my hair and let Hannah help me pin it up. Then she wrapped a ribbon around my head and fastened a cameo necklace around my neck.

  “Nancy, you look beautiful!” Hannah declared.

  I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t look like myself at all. I’d been transformed into a character from one of Jane Austen’s novels.

  Cardinal Corners was transformed too. There were potted flowers and garlands and satiny ribbons on the veranda. Inside, dozens of small tea tables had been set up and draped with chintz table linens. Each was decorated with one of Ms. Waters’s floral bouquets. Even the sugar cubes were decorated with candied violets.

  George, very stylish in her red spencer, and Bess, beautiful in blue, were already there when I arrived. “You girls look lovely,” Mrs. Olsen complimented us. Her husband insisted on taking our picture.

  In the kitchen Mrs. Fayne was quietly commanding her efficient troop of kitchen help. I was astonished to find Emily Spradling in the kitchen too, carefully placing little pink cakes on a doily-covered platter.

  “I’m surprised to see her here today,” I said softly to Mrs. Olsen.

  “The poor thing called yesterday in tears,” Mrs. Olsen said. “Emily told me she was horrified by her husband’s arrest and totally ignorant of what he and Davy Reeve had been doing. I feel sorry for her, Nancy.”

  “Do you think you can trust her?” I asked, glancing in Emily’s direction.

  Mrs. Olsen followed my gaze. “Yes. I’m certain she’s guilty of nothing more than stupidity,” she said. “The poor woman has left her husband and moved in with her mother. She’s even offered to pay for the damaged teapots.”

  As paying guests started to arrive, Mrs. Mahoney and Ms. Waters, wearing beautiful Regency costumes, greeted them at the door. George, Bess, and I stayed busy taking tea orders and carrying delicious refreshments to each table. Everyone admired our dresses and oohed and aahed over the food.

  “These are beautiful tarts!” Bess declared when Mrs. Fayne gave us platters to carry into the parlor.

  “But there’s no bullet pudding,” George said as she passed by with a plate of scones. Bess and I laughed and pretended to pout.

  I was carefully carrying a bunny-shaped teapot to a table of chattering women in the back of the parlor when Bess hurried by and whispered, “Ned’s here!” She was grinning from ear to ear.

  I set the bunny teapot down carefully on the table and rushed to the front door as fast as my long dress would allow. Ned, his mother, Deirdre, and Mrs. Shannon were standing in the foyer shaking hands with Agnes Mahoney. My mouth dropped open as soon as I saw him. Ned was wearing an authentic Regency period costume, complete with tan-colored pantaloons and knee-high boots. He looked so handsome! All the ladies thought so, and they made quite a fuss over him. Deirdre was clinging to his arm like a barnacle to a ship.

  Seeing me, Ned smiled and raised a hand in greeting. He quickly shrugged his arm from Deirdre’s grasp and hurried over to me. He was blushing a little. “Nancy, you look great!” He took my hands in his. “My mom insisted that you’d get a kick out of seeing me in this getup.” He glanced down at his costume and smiled shyly. “This is the surprise.”

  “Ned, I love it! You’re even more handsome than Mr. Darcy,” I declared, naming the dashing hero in Pride and Prejudice.

  “Well, you’re more beautiful than Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” Ned replied.

  “Why, thank you, kind sir,” I replied, smiling up at him.

  “I think you look awesome too, Ned,” Bess said, hurrying past him with a platter of tiny sandwiches.

  “Ditto,” George declared. Deirdre came up then, trying to reclaim Ned’s arm, and George thrust a tray of teacups and saucers at her. “Time to go to work, DeeDee,” she said.

  Needless to say, the event was a huge success. The costumes set the right tone, and Mrs. Fayne’s refreshments received rave reviews. But Ned’s surprise was not the only one I received that afternoon. When Mrs. Mahoney announced the generous amount of funds raised for the library, everyone applauded.

  But then she added, “Mr. and Mrs. Olsen would like to donate an additional two thousand dollars in honor of Miss Nancy Drew. Without Nancy’s perseverance and clever detecting skills, this event would not have been able to take place.”

  The applause was deafening. To my embarrassment, Mrs. Mahoney made me step forward and take a little curtsy. I made my escape as quickly as possible and found the Olsens on the veranda, waving to departing guests.

&nbs
p; “Nancy, we’re so pleased with what you’ve done,” Mrs. Olsen said, giving me a hug. “We were going to offer you the money found in the armoire as a reward, but Bess and George said you’d prefer that we donate it to the library fund.”

  “They’re right, as usual,” I said with a pleased grin.

  “We asked Chief McGinnis about it,” Mr. Olsen added. “He said they didn’t need the money for evidence. The bootlegger’s case was solved years ago, and we could do whatever we wanted to with the cash.”

  I thanked them for their generosity and hurried to the kitchen to find Bess and George.

  Later I had a quiet moment alone with Ned. We sat together on the porch swing, drinking tea and sharing a buttered scone.

  “All’s well that ends well,” I said with a happy sigh.

  “That’s Shakespeare, not Jane Austen,” he quipped.

  I punched him lightly. “You know what I mean,” I said.

  “Yes, it’s your way of saying, ‘Another case solved,”’ he replied, putting an arm around my shoulders.

  We sat in comfortable silence, listening to the birds chirp and twitter. It had been a wonderful day, and I had enjoyed every bit of it, particularly when Mrs. Shannon left early with one of her friends and insisted on taking Deirdre with them. I hoped the Olsens would live happily ever after at Cardinal Corners. I could relax now too for a while—until the next perplexing mystery came along.