Thanksgiving Thief

  Peter looked up and waved when he saw the three of them walking toward him. “If you want to bowl,” he yelled, “you’ll have to start your own league.”

  When the girls reached him, Bess said, “We don’t want to bowl, we want to talk to you about pumpkin puree.”

  “About what?” Peter asked.

  Nancy looked around. “Could we talk in private?” she asked.

  Peter wrinkled his brow. “Oh no, is the Clue Crew on a case now?” he said.

  “As a matter of fact, we are, Patino,” George told him. “We’re investigating the destruction of Mr. Madison’s jars of pumpkin puree in the school kitchen.”

  Peter blinked, then slowly narrowed his eyes. “Are you telling me that you think I did it?” he asked.

  “Did you?” asked George.

  “Why would I?” Peter said.

  “Because Katherine Madison told us that you were upset about your uncle,” George explained.

  “Yeah, well, I was upset when Mr. Madison fired Uncle James, because it’s hard for my uncle to get a job,” Peter said, “but you know that I’d never destroy anyone else’s property.”

  “Well, this is a criminal investigation, and that means we have to cover all bases,” Bess said. “It’s nothing personal, Peter.”

  Peter looked around. “I have to go,” he said. “It’s my turn to bowl.”

  “Wait, Peter! Can you prove you didn’t do it?” Nancy asked. “Do you have an alibi?”

  “Yeah, I can, and yes, I do,” Peter replied. He turned and called, “Nickerson!”

  Ned quickly hurried over to them. “Hi, Nancy! Hi, Bess, George. What are you guys doing here?”

  “We’re on a case,” said Bess.

  “And I’m a suspect,” Peter said, “but I was just explaining to Nancy that you and I have been busy all day, recruiting guys for the bowling team.”

  “You think Peter committed a crime?” Ned said. “Come on, Nancy! Get real!”

  “Well, we need Peter’s alibi,” Nancy replied.

  “Sure thing. We started out really early this morning, looking for guys, and now we have a team that’s going to burn the competition,” Ned said.

  “Good for you, Ned,” said Nancy. She turned to Bess and George. “I guess we’d better be going.”

  “Good luck with the investigation,” Peter called to them as the girls headed out the door.

  “Now what?” Bess asked.

  Nancy looked at her watch. “Oh no! I forgot to ask Peter what time he’ll be home, and I need to get home too,” she said. “It’s almost time for dinner, and I promised Hannah I’d clean my room!”

  Nancy’s father, Carson Drew, was a successful lawyer, so Nancy often discussed some of the Clue Crew’s cases with him. Over dinner, she told Mr. Drew and Hannah about their investigation.

  “We thought Peter Patino was a suspect, but it turns out he has an alibi,” Nancy said. She sighed. “We’d go back to the crime scene to look for other clues, but by now it’s probably been compromised.”

  “What?” said Hannah.

  Nancy grinned. “I heard it on television. That means people have probably walked all over the clues and destroyed them.”

  “Well, you’ve been in situations like this before, Nancy. You know that sooner or later evidence will turn up that’ll help you solve the crime,” Mr. Drew said. “Just keep on sleuthing!”

  “The Clue Crew never gives up, Daddy!” Nancy assured him.

  The next afternoon, Saturday, Nancy and the Clue Crew met Mary White Cloud at the gymnasium. Mrs. White Cloud was going to help them with their parts in the pageant when she finished making her Indian fry bread. While they were waiting, Nancy and the Clue Crew filled Mary in on what they’d found out about Mr. Madison’s pumpkin puree.

  “We didn’t find any clues,” Bess said, “but”—she pulled the feather out from behind her and showed it to Mary—“I did find this. It was left by some bird in the alley outside the school kitchen.”

  “That’s wonderful! You’re the first person to pick up a feather, Bess,” Mary said. “That’s special in our culture.”

  Bess beamed.

  “I’m glad your mother wants to help us with our lines,” said Nancy.

  “Well, my mom has been in a lot of Native American pageants all across the country,” Mary told them proudly. “She knows how we should act.”

  Just then, they heard a commotion coming from the kitchen.

  Nancy looked at everyone. “Come on!” she shouted. “Let’s find out what’s going on!”

  When they got there, Mrs. White Cloud was talking to Mrs. Stanley, who owned a bakery in town.

  “What happened?” asked Nancy.

  “I just discovered that somebody got into the storeroom where I had put my special bags of turkey stuffing mix,” Mrs. Stanley said. “They ruined every one of them!”

  “Oh no, not again!” Nancy groaned. “Someone really is trying to destroy the River Heights Thanksgiving Celebration!”

  “This is awful,” Bess said.

  “It most certainly is,” Mrs. White Cloud agreed. “Everyone in River Heights has told me nothing tastes as good as Mrs. Stanley’s special turkey stuffing mix, and I was really looking forward to eating it.”

  “Mom uses your special stuffing in our turkey every Thanksgiving,” Bess told Mrs. Stanley. “She’s going to be so upset.”

  George sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?” she asked.

  “Burned cake,” Mrs. Stanley said. “Don’t ask. It’s a long story.”

  Nancy turned to Mary. “Could we practice later?” she asked. “This mystery is getting more mysterious, and the Clue Crew needs to check it out.”

  Mary turned to her mother. “Is that all right?” she asked.

  “It most certainly is,” said Mrs. White Cloud. “I can teach the girls how to be Native American princesses any time, but the mystery of what happened to the stuffing mix can’t wait.” To Mary, she added, “The fry bread is done. We need to go on home now, but we’ll come back later.”

  Mary and Mrs. White Cloud said their good-byes and left.

  Just then, a huge black dog raced through the kitchen. He had white powder all over his nose. He made a couple of circles and then headed into the gym.

  “Wasn’t that Quincy Taylor’s dog?” George said.

  “I think so,” said Nancy. “I wonder what he’s doing down here.”

  “Quincy told me his dog has been jumping over their fence lately,” Bess said. “He’s afraid someone will dognap him if he doesn’t stop that.”

  Nancy turned back to Mrs. Stanley. “Maybe we can solve the mystery of who destroyed your stuffing mix,” she said. “We haven’t solved Mr. Madison’s crime yet, but we’re still working on it.”

  “The two could be related,” Bess pointed out.

  Mrs. Stanley blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Mr. Madison’s pumpkin puree was destroyed in this same kitchen yesterday,” George reasoned. “We’re investigating that case too.”

  “I hadn’t heard about that. I was working in my bakery, trying to get caught up with holiday orders,” Mrs. Stanley said. “That’s just terrible! I use his pumpkin puree for my pumpkin pies.”

  “How did you discover that something had happened to your stuffing mix?” asked Nancy.

  “Well, I came here to the school to do my part for the feast, but I also needed to bake a couple of holiday cakes for a customer,” Mrs. Stanley explained, “so I put one in the oven, and then I started making the second one, but I was listening to my favorite station on the radio at the same time, not paying as much attention to what I was doing as I should, and I burned the first cake.”

  Bess sniffed the air again and nodded to George.

  “So I opened the door to the alley, to let in some fresh air, and then I went back to work on the cakes,” Mrs. Stanley continued. “When I finally finished with those, it was time to start adding the wet ingredients, such as turk
ey broth, to the dry stuffing mix for the feast, and that’s when I discovered that someone had knocked over all the bags and scattered the stuffing mix all over the floor.”

  “Can you make some more?” Nancy asked.

  Mrs. Stanley shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. I use specially aged bread crumbs and just the right seasoning. It takes a while. There’s not enough time left between now and the feast.”

  “I think I know who’s responsible for these crimes!” George shouted. “Quincy’s dog!”

  “Yeah!” Bess agreed. “He sure did look guilty when he raced through just now.”

  “Maybe he came through the door to the alley and got into the stuffing mix when you weren’t paying attention, Mrs. Stanley,” Nancy said. She turned to Bess and George. “I wonder if he’s responsible for destroying Mr. Madison’s pumpkin puree, too.”

  “We should find out if he has an alibi for that time,” George said.

  “We’ll do that after we examine the crime scene,” Nancy decided.

  The Clue Crew started looking for clues.

  After a few minutes George said, “I’m going to look out in the alley.”

  Nancy and Bess continued to search the storeroom and kitchen.

  When George came back inside, she said, “Well, I know why Quincy’s dog’s nose was all white. There’s a flour spill in the alley from where he was digging around in the trash can.”

  Nancy looked at the spilled bags of stuffing mix on the floor. “If Quincy’s dog were the culprit, wouldn’t there be signs of flour on some of the bags in either the storeroom or the kitchen where he nosed them open?” she asked.

  “You’d think,” George said.

  “Well, there aren’t,” Nancy told her friends.

  “What if he came in here first?” asked Bess.

  “I think someone would have noticed him earlier if he had come into the kitchen first,” Nancy concluded. “I don’t think Quincy’s dog is our criminal.”

  “Another dead end.” Bess sighed.

  “Not for me,” said George. She held up a feather. “I found one in the alley too, just like Bess did. Now I have a feather for the pageant!”

  Later that evening, when Nancy and the Clue Crew went back to the gymnasium to practice their roles, the first thing George did was tell Mary about finding her brown-and-gray feather.

  Mary let out a sigh. “You may not get to use it after all,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” Nancy asked.

  “Well, Deirdre Shannon’s parents are in charge of this year’s celebration,” Mary explained. “After they heard about the food being destroyed, they told Mrs. Ramirez that the entire event—the pageant, the feast, and the food fair—might have to be canceled. They’re worried it’s turning into a disaster.”

  On Sunday afternoon, before Nancy left for the school to practice for the pageant, she told her father everything that had happened the day before.

  “Do you think the two crimes could be a coincidence, Daddy?” Nancy asked.

  “Well, there are such things as coincidences, Nancy, and the two might not be related after all,” said Mr. Drew. “But don’t give up on finding the culprits. Just follow the evidence and remember that things aren’t always as they appear.”

  “Don’t worry, Daddy,” Nancy said. “The Clue Crew is still on the case! See you later.” She grabbed her jacket and headed out the door.

  When Nancy got to the school, some of the other kids who had parts in the pageant were gathered in little groups on the playground. They were whispering to one another about the possible cancellation.

  “Don’t worry,” Nancy reassured the kids as she passed each group. “The Clue Crew is trying to solve the mystery.”

  Nancy finally found George and Bess by the swings. They were talking with Katherine Madison, Suzie Park, and Natalie Coleman.

  “George and I found the perfect feathers, too,” Bess was saying when Nancy joined them. “But if the celebration is canceled, we won’t be able to use them in the pageant.”

  “Oh, that would be too bad,” Natalie said.

  “I love this time of the year,” said Suzie, “mainly because of the celebration.”

  “Me too,” Katherine said. “My dad and I were already upset about his pumpkin puree, and now if everything is canceled, we’ll feel even worse.”

  “Try not to worry too much, girls,” Nancy told them. “The Clue Crew hasn’t given up!”

  As Nancy, Bess, and George entered the school gym, Nancy said, “There’s Mrs. Ramirez over by the stage. I need to talk to her. I’m going to run on ahead.”

  Mrs. Ramirez looked up when Nancy reached her. “Oh, hi, Nancy,” she said sadly. “I suppose you’ve heard the news that the celebration may be canceled.”

  “It hasn’t happened yet, Mrs. Ramirez,” Nancy said, “and the Clue Crew is going to do everything possible to make sure that it doesn’t.”

  “Thank you, Nancy!” said Mrs. Ramirez.

  Just then, Deirdre Shannon walked up. “Oh, Nancy, isn’t it just awful?” she said.

  “Isn’t what awful, Deirdre?” Nancy said.

  “You haven’t heard?” Deirdre exclaimed. “There may not be a River Heights Thanksgiving Celebration this year after all.”

  “Oh, that.” Nancy smiled. “Well, the Clue Crew is on the case, Deirdre.”

  “That would be awesome if you solved it, because everyone is working so hard,” she said. “I’m in charge of costumes for all the Pilgrim girls, and I’m trying my best to make them look stylish in those boring black dresses.”

  “Well, Deirdre, if anyone knows about fashion, it’s you,” said Nancy. “But I don’t know if there’s a lot you can do about what the Pilgrim women wore back then.”

  “You’re probably right,” Deirdre said. “I wish the Thanksgiving pageant was set in Paris or New York during Fashion Week.”

  “Don’t count on that happening!” Nancy joked.

  “Well, I have to go get my mom’s fresh turkeys,” Deirdre said. “Normally, she has to wait until the food fair, but Mr. Davidson, our butcher, said she could get hers today because she and Dad are so busy coordinating the celebration.”

  “Do you need any help?” Nancy asked.

  “Sure,” Deirdre said. “Those turkeys are heavy.”

  Nancy turned to Mrs. Ramirez. “Do we have time before the pageant practice starts?” she asked.

  “Well, if the Clue Crew is going to save the celebration, then we’ll have practice,” Mrs. Ramirez said, “so we can certainly wait until you’ve finished helping Deirdre with the turkeys.”

  Nancy and Deirdre headed toward the kitchen. When they got to Mr. Davidson’s area, he wasn’t anywhere to be found.

  “I can’t wait for him,” Deirdre said. “I have so many things to do.”

  “Where does he keep the turkeys?” asked Nancy.

  “They’re fresh turkeys, not frozen,” Deirdre explained, “so he just keeps them in his refrigerator.”

  “Well, there’s a big refrigerator over there,” Nancy said. “The door’s wide open.”

  They walked over and looked inside.

  “Here are two big turkeys with my mom’s name on them,” Deirdre said. “I guess it’s all right to take them.”

  Deirdre picked up one of the turkeys. “Yuck! It’s all squishy, like it’s still alive!”

  “Let me see,” Nancy said. Deirdre handed her the turkey. “You’re right. It’s not even cold.”

  Just then, a voice said, “What are you two doing?”

  Nancy and Deirdre turned. Mr. Davidson was staring at them.

  “I think someone left the door to your refrigerator open, Mr. Davidson,” said Nancy.

  Mr. Davidson rushed over. He took the turkey from Nancy. “Oh no!” he cried. He examined the other turkeys in the refrigerator. “They’re all spoiled! Now all my butcher shop customers will have to eat frozen turkeys for Thanksgiving!”

  “Oh, that’s terrible!” Deirdre said. “I guess my
parents really will have to cancel the—”

  “Wait, Deirdre! Please don’t say anything to them yet!” Nancy interrupted. “Just give the Clue Crew a little more time. We’ll get back on the case right now!”

  Just then, George and Bess came into the kitchen.

  “We wondered what had happened to you,” Bess said. “Mrs. Ramirez is ready for us to practice.”

  “Our plans have changed,” Nancy told her friends. She quickly explained about the spoiled turkeys. “Somebody really is out to destroy Thanksgiving. This is no coincidence!”

  “Why couldn’t they attack some other holiday?” asked Bess. “Why did they have to choose my favorite one?”

  “Thanksgiving is a holiday for people to give thanks for all they have,” Nancy said. “That makes it doubly awful that someone is trying to wreck the celebration!”

  “I agree,” George said.

  “Would you mind if we took a look around, Mr. Davidson?” Nancy asked. “The Clue Crew is investigating the other kitchen crimes.”

  “I wouldn’t mind it at all, Nancy,” Mr. Davidson replied. He was a big fan of the Clue Crew. “Nothing like this has ever happened before.”

  “Well, I need to go. . . . The pageant will go on!” said Deirdre.

  “Tell your mother I’m sorry about the turkeys,” Mr. Davidson said. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen next year.”

  When Deirdre was gone, Nancy said, “Do you know any reason why someone would do this, Mr. Davidson?”

  Mr. Davidson shook his head. “No. In fact, I try to be nice to everybody. When Mr. Shannon said he was expecting a late delivery of cranberries and potatoes from a wholesale packer in Chicago, I told him I’d be glad to stay to make sure everything was put away. I left the back door open so the driver could bring the boxes inside, because I was busy preparing the fresh turkeys.”

  Bess looked at Nancy. “I wonder if we can connect the driver to the other crimes,” she said.

  “I know him. He’s not a crook,” said Mr. Davidson. “The way I see it, while he was busy bringing the boxes, someone slipped inside and hid until after I was gone and then committed the crime.”