“All right, kiddo,” Carson said, giving in.

  Carson drove to the supermarket and parked near the entrance. He and Nancy hurried inside. They went right to the fruits and vegetables and looked up and down the aisle.

  “Look!” Nancy said. “There it is!”

  She saw something shiny mixed in with the parsley and fresh herbs.

  “Really?” Carson Drew hurried to look.

  Nancy reached into the parsley and pulled out a shiny ring. But it was just a key ring with someone’s car keys on it. Her face fell.

  “Oh, well,” Carson Drew said. “At least it was a nice try,”

  Nancy gave the car keys to the store manager. She told him about Hannah’s missing ring. He said he would look for it. Then her father drove home.

  As Carson Drew pulled into the driveway, he said to Nancy, “Listen, Pudding Pie. I want you to do me a favor.”

  Pudding Pie was Mr. Drew’s special name for Nancy.

  “Sure. What is it, Daddy?” Nancy asked.

  “Try harder to be nice to Pamela,” her father said.

  “I’d like to,” Nancy said. “But she’s not nice to me.”

  “That’s not the point. She’s our guest,” Carson Drew said. “And her mother told me today that Pamela feels left out. She thinks you don’t like her. She thinks you don’t want her here for Thanksgiving.”

  Well, I don’t want her, if she’s going to be so mean, Nancy thought. But she knew her father was right.

  “Okay,” Nancy said. “I’ll try.”

  But it’s not my fault if she won’t let me be nice to her! Nancy thought.

  • • •

  All through dinner, Nancy tried to talk to Pamela. But Pamela was still angry. She wrinkled her nose at the salmon steaks. She wouldn’t eat any salad. She didn’t even answer when Nancy asked, “Would you like some cookies for dessert?”

  “Cookies?” Derrick said. He looked puzzled until he saw the plate Nancy was passing him.

  “Oh! You mean biscuits,” Pamela said. “Yes, I’d love one.”

  Why does she have to argue with everything? Nancy thought. She can call them biscuits in England if she wants to. Here we call them cookies.

  “You’ll have to come visit us in London, Nancy,” Mr. Morgan said. “We’ll treat you to one of our best desserts—a nice English trifle.”

  “What’s that?” Nancy asked.

  “Oh, it’s a lovely layered thing,” Mrs. Morgan said. “It has custard and berries and whipped cream and ladyfingers. They’re all stacked together in a big glass bowl.”

  “Sounds yummy. But what are ladyfingers?” Nancy asked.

  “They’re soft cakes shaped like fingers,” Pamela said. “Don’t you know anything?”

  Nancy sighed. She felt tired. She had been trying hard to get along with Pamela all through dinner—but it was no use.

  Now she just wanted to go upstairs to be alone. She wanted to think about who took Hannah’s ring.

  Maybe I can write a list of suspects in my notebook, Nancy thought.

  “I’m going to get ready for bed early,” Nancy announced when dinner was over.

  “Okay,” Carson Drew said.

  “Don’t let the bedbugs bite!” Derrick called. He laughed loudly.

  He’s just teasing me, Nancy thought. At least he’s nicer than his sister.

  Nancy climbed the stairs to her bedroom and closed the door. She changed into her favorite nightgown. It was white with a pattern of red and pink roses on it.

  Then she walked down the hall to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

  “Huh?” Nancy said as she looked at the bathroom sink.

  Something was missing. In fact, everything was missing!

  “Where’s the soap?” Nancy said out loud, even though no one was listening. “And the toothpaste? And my toothbrush!”

  Nancy heard someone giggling. Then she heard footsteps. She walked back out into the hall. No one was there.

  “Hey,” Nancy called. “Is someone up here?”

  No answer.

  Well, I can’t brush my teeth without my toothbrush, Nancy thought. She walked slowly back to her room.

  She flipped on the light switch by her door. It was supposed to turn on the lamp by her bed.

  But nothing happened. The room stayed dark.

  “What’s going on here?” Nancy said.

  Just then the light in the hallway went out, too.

  “Hey!” Nancy cried out.

  No one answered.

  Nancy was standing all alone—in the dark!

  4

  Danger in the Dark

  Help!” Nancy called from the dark hallway.

  Silence. No one answered.

  Now what? Nancy thought. Was someone going to jump out and shout “Boo!”?

  Her heart started to beat a little faster.

  It’s spooky up here in the dark, Nancy thought. The hall light was always left on at night—even when Hannah and her father were asleep.

  “Help!” Nancy called out again.

  All at once she heard someone burst out laughing. It was someone who sounded a lot like Derrick.

  “Ha-ha! I got you!” Derrick called as he flipped the hall light back on from the bottom of the stairs.

  Then he ran up the stairs to meet Nancy. He had a huge grin on his face.

  “Very funny,” Nancy said, frowning.

  “I thought so,” Derrick said. He looked totally pleased with himself.

  “What’s going on?” Carson Drew called from downstairs. “Are you okay, Nancy?”

  Nancy ran to the railing and leaned over it.

  “Someone turned the lights out,” Nancy told him. “And the light in my room won’t come on, either.”

  Derrick grinned even more. “Maybe you should try screwing the lightbulb in a little tighter,” he said. “I’ll bet it’s loose.”

  “So that’s what you did!” Nancy said. “You sneaked into my room and unscrewed the bulb while I was in the bathroom.”

  Derrick just laughed.

  “What’s going on?” Derrick’s mother said. She was standing at the foot of the stairs with Carson Drew.

  “Oh, nothing,” Derrick answered her.

  Julie Morgan walked up the steps. She had shiny red hair and very pale skin. Nancy thought she was pretty.

  “Derrick, what have you been up to?” Julie Morgan asked, taking her son by the arm.

  But before Derrick could answer, Carson Drew joined them. “Oh, it just sounds like a harmless prank,” Nancy’s father said quickly.

  “Yes, well, when you live with Derrick,” Mrs. Morgan said, “you get rather tired of pranks.”

  She put on a stern face and shook her finger at her son. “Derrick, I want no more of this. Do you understand? No more trouble or I’ll send you to bed early.”

  “Sure,” Derrick said, still grinning.

  He doesn’t even mind being scolded, Nancy thought as she walked back to her room. He must be used to it.

  In the dark, she felt her way to her desk lamp. Then she felt for the bulb. It was loose. She screwed it back in carefully, and the light came on.

  Now all I have to do is find the toothpaste and the soap, Nancy thought. I wonder what he did with them?

  She went back to the bathroom. The toothpaste and soap were back in their places.

  Nancy was glad. She didn’t really want to solve the mystery of the missing soap. She wanted to solve the mystery of the missing ring instead. She brushed her teeth and washed her face and went back to her room.

  I’m not ready to go to sleep yet anyway, Nancy thought.

  She took out her special blue notebook and opened it to a clean page. Then she lay down on her bed. At the top of the page she wrote: “Hannah’s Missing Ring.”

  Then she wrote: “Suspects—Pamela, Derrick, Shelley, Greg, and Ann D’Angelo.”

  Under that, she wrote: “What’s in Pamela’s suitcase?”

  Nancy remembered that Pamela didn’t
want her to look in her suitcase.

  What does she have to hide? Nancy wondered. That’s what I’ve got to find out. And soon!

  • • •

  Mmmm. Something smells good, Nancy thought as she woke up the next morning.

  Then she remembered. It was Thanksgiving! Hannah was probably already cooking the meal.

  She also thought about the missing ring. I’ve got to find it, Nancy thought. Or Hannah will have a terrible Thanksgiving.

  She put on her bathrobe and hurried down to the kitchen.

  Pamela and Derrick were already there. They were dressed and eating breakfast at the table. Hannah was at the stove, cooking celery and onions for the turkey stuffing.

  “Good morning, Sleepyhead,” Hannah said to Nancy with a smile.

  “Hi,” Derrick said, giving Nancy a big grin. “Want some cereal?” He picked up the box of toasted oat flakes and offered it to Nancy.

  “Not yet,” Nancy said cheerfully. She ran to the window and looked out. The sun was shining, and it was a beautiful day. “I wonder if the Thanksgiving parade has started on TV yet.”

  “A parade? For Thanksgiving?” Pamela asked.

  “Yes,” Nancy said. “It’s fun. They have gigantic balloons that look like cartoon characters.”

  “How silly,” Pamela said. “What do balloons have to do with your Pilgrims? Or with giving thanks?”

  Nancy’s face felt hot. She didn’t know what to say. Pamela made fun of everything!

  “Oh, it’s just a fun way to celebrate,” Hannah said quickly. “You know, they have Thanksgiving in Canada, too.”

  “Oh, yes,” Nancy said, joining in. “I learned about Canadian Thanksgiving in school.”

  “So what?” Pamela asked rudely.

  “Well, since Canada is like a sister country to England,” Nancy said, “I thought maybe the holiday wouldn’t seem so strange to you.”

  Pamela made a face. “You don’t say that Canada is a sister to England,” she said. “You say it’s part of the British Commonwealth.”

  Then she picked up a raw cranberry from the bowl on the counter. Hannah was using them to make cranberry sauce.

  “What are these?” Pamela asked.

  “Cranberries,” Hannah answered.

  Pamela popped it in her mouth and started to chew. “Ew! Disgusting!” she said, spitting it out. “It’s sour!”

  Nancy sighed and sat down on a kitchen chair.

  Is there anything she won’t complain about? Nancy wondered.

  Then Nancy picked up the box of cereal and poured herself a bowl.

  “Here—have some milk,” Derrick said, handing her the carton.

  “Thanks,” Nancy said.

  At least Derrick is nice to me, she thought.

  Nancy opened the top of the milk carton to make the spout. Then she lifted it up and started to pour.

  But as soon as she tilted the carton, milk started dribbling out in a fine spray, as if from a watering can.

  “Oh, no!” Nancy cried as milk poured all over the table, her bathrobe, and the kitchen floor!

  5

  Boy Trouble

  Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Derrick cried, doubling over with laughter. He had to hold his stomach, he was laughing so hard.

  “You creep!” Nancy yelled. She set the milk carton back down. But it was too late. The milk had spilled all over her robe. Even her nightgown had milk on it.

  “What’s going on?” Hannah asked. She turned around from the stove to see what was happening.

  Derrick was laughing too hard to answer. Nancy glared at him, then looked over at Pamela.

  Pamela had a worried expression on her face. She looked as if she knew her brother had done something wrong—and she didn’t think it was funny.

  “I have milk all over me,” Nancy told Hannah. “There were holes in the milk carton and it spilled.”

  “Oh, my goodness,” Hannah said, grabbing a wet cloth. She started wiping up the spilt milk from the table and the floor. But there was nothing she could do for Nancy’s bathrobe.

  “Derrick, you little twit,” Pamela said. “That wasn’t funny when you did it at home, and it’s not funny now. I’m going to tell Mummy. You’ll be sorry!”

  “Oh, now, Pamela,” Hannah said. “Don’t blame your brother. I don’t think it was his fault.”

  “Yes, it was,” Pamela said. “Look—he poked tiny holes in the carton, near the top. That way the milk spills out all over the place when you pour it. I’m telling you he’s done this before.”

  She’s trying to apologize for her brother, Nancy thought. She’s actually trying to be nice.

  Nancy looked over at Pamela and smiled.

  But Pamela didn’t smile back. She just got up and walked out of the room.

  Fine, Nancy thought. Be that way.

  “I’m going upstairs to change,” Nancy told Hannah as she got up from the table.

  By the time Nancy got back to the kitchen, Derrick’s mother was there. Pamela had gone to get her.

  “Derrick, I’m very angry with you,” Mrs. Morgan said. “These pranks have got to stop!”

  “Sorry, Mum,” Derrick said. But he still had a small grin on his face.

  “We are guests here,” Mrs. Morgan went on. “Please act like it and help clean up this mess right away. Then you can spend the rest of the morning in your room—thinking about how other people feel when you play these little jokes of yours.”

  Derrick bent his head down, hiding his eyes. But Nancy didn’t think he looked very sorry.

  Well, Nancy thought, at least Pamela told her mother about it. Maybe she isn’t so bad after all. Maybe she didn’t steal Hannah’s ring.

  But who did? That was what Nancy wanted to know.

  There were still five people on her list of suspects.

  And three of them aren’t even here right now, Nancy thought.

  “Hannah?” Nancy asked when breakfast was over. “May I walk over to the D’Angelos’ house?”

  “I guess so. But what for?” Hannah asked.

  “I want to talk to Shelley and Greg. To see if they know anything about your ring,” Nancy said.

  “Nancy Drew, the detective,” Hannah said with a smile. But then she looked down at her finger, where the ring should have been. She stopped smiling. “All right,” Hannah said. “But don’t stay too long. You still have guests here, you know.”

  Nancy bundled up in her warm jacket and walked the three blocks to the D’Angelo house.

  When she got there, she found Shelley and Greg in the living room. They were still in their pajamas. They were sitting on a big couch, watching the Thanksgiving parade on TV. While they watched, they tore up slices of white bread and dropped the pieces into a big roasting pan.

  “Hi,” Nancy said. Then she looked at the roasting pan. “What are you doing?”

  Shelley looked up at Nancy, surprised. “Oh, hi,” she said. “We’re tearing up bread for stuffing. Want to help?”

  “Sure,” Nancy said.

  “Great!” Greg said. “You can have my place.” He jumped up and leaped over a footstool. Then he sat down in another chair.

  Nancy laughed and took his place beside Shelley on the couch. “This is fun,” Nancy said. She tore up a few pieces of bread and watched the parade.

  Then she noticed Shelley’s charm bracelets. They were jingling.

  Maybe she took Hannah’s ring, Nancy thought.

  “You like jewelry a lot, don’t you?” she asked Shelley.

  “Not really,” Shelley said. “Just charms.”

  “Oh? How come?” Nancy asked.

  “Necklaces look silly on me,” Shelley said. “And my mom won’t let me pierce my ears. And I hate rings. They make my fingers itch. I just love charms.”

  Oh, Nancy thought. Then she probably didn’t take Hannah’s ring.

  Nancy sniffed the air. She smelled something spicy.

  “What’s your mom cooking?” Nancy asked.

  “Tomato sauce,” Shelle
y answered.

  “On Thanksgiving?” Nancy asked. She was surprised.

  “Why not?” Shelley said. You can’t have lasagna without tomato sauce.”

  “But are you having turkey, too?” Nancy asked.

  “Sure,” Shelley said. “Turkey and stuffing and lasagna and salad and antipasto, and everything.”

  “Oh,” Nancy said. She hadn’t expected that.

  Shelley grinned. “It’s an Italian-American Thanksgiving dinner.”

  Of course, Nancy thought. The D’Angelos are Italian. They eat lots of yummy Italian foods all the time.

  “We always have lasagna at Thanksgiving,” Greg said.

  Nancy nodded. “It smells good.”

  “So why did you come over, anyway?” Shelley asked.

  “Oh. I wanted to talk to you about Hannah’s gold ring,” Nancy said. “I wondered if you saw it or anything.”

  Shelley and Greg both shook their heads.

  “But my mom was talking about it on the way home yesterday,” Greg said.

  “She was?” Nancy’s ears pricked up. “What did she say?”

  “She said she thought she remembered seeing it lying on the kitchen counter early in the afternoon, right before she started making pie,” Greg said. “Then, later, it was gone.”

  Nancy looked at Greg. He seemed to be telling the truth. That meant Greg couldn’t have taken it. He hadn’t gone back to the kitchen after Hannah left.

  Okay, Nancy thought. That also proves that Hannah didn’t lose her ring at the grocery store or leave it lying around the house. She left it in the kitchen—and someone stole it!

  “Well, thanks,” Nancy said, quickly tearing up a few more pieces of bread. “That helps me a lot.”

  Then she put on her jacket and hurried home.

  The sun was still shining brightly as Nancy opened her front door.

  “I’m home,” Nancy called as she went to the coat closet.

  No one answered.

  Weird, Nancy thought.

  “Is anyone here?” she called as she put her hand on the closet doorknob.

  But before she could pull it open, it flew open! And something large leaped out at her!

  6

  The Closet Monster