“Their nails can’t be dry yet.” Wendy sighed. “They’ll spoil their manicures for sure.”

  “Better than spoiling our fun!” Bess whispered.

  “M’ladies,” Prissy said, waving her hand toward three purple velvet salon chairs. “Your thrones await!”

  Nancy, Bess, and George each sat down in a velvet chair. They gazed at their reflections in the mirrors as Prissy and Wendy got to work.

  After much brushing and styling the girls were princess-perfect. Bess’s long blond ponytail was curled and tied with a blue velvet ribbon. Nancy’s reddish-blond hair was swept high on her head and fastened with a bejeweled clip. George’s dark curls were pinned with barrettes shaped like baseball bats.

  “Cool!” George said, admiring her reflection.

  “Hannah was right!” Nancy said, patting the back of her hairdo. “She won’t recognize us!”

  “And this is just the beginning,” Wendy said. “There are still manicures and a bit of face painting to come.”

  “But before you get up from your thrones,” Prissy said, holding up a pink spray-pump bottle, “the finishing touch.”

  “What is it?” Nancy asked.

  “A lovely finishing spray called Strawberry Spritz,” Prissy explained, waving the pink bottle. “It’ll leave your hair smelling like fresh strawberries.”

  “And it’s all natural!” Wendy added.

  Prissy stepped back. She then sprayed each girl’s hairdo one by one. Nancy took a whiff and began to gag. The Strawberry Spritz didn’t smell like strawberries at all.

  It smelled like rotten eggs!

  “The stuff reeks!” Nancy said, squeezing her nose.

  “And look at our hair!” Bess cried, pointing to the mirror. “It’s turning blue!”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Hairy Scary

  “My hair is strawberry blond—not blueberry blond!” Nancy gasped.

  “I-I-I don’t know how that happened!” Prissy stammered, staring at the bottle. “This is supposed to smell like strawberries—not rotten eggs!”

  “As for the blue, we don’t have a clue!” Wendy said.

  Prissy ran to the shelf that held more bottles of Strawberry Spritz. She uncapped each of the other bottles and took a whiff. “These all smell like strawberry,” she said. “I don’t understand. …”

  Nancy, Bess, and George were out of their chairs, staring at their reflections in the mirror.

  “We can’t let anyone see us like this!” Bess cried.

  Nancy totally agreed. Until—

  “Greetings, fair princesses!” a man’s voice boomed.

  The girls whirled around. Walking into the Princess Parlor was Mayor Strong. Right behind him were the photographer and reporter from the River Heights Daily News!

  “Say cheese!” Mayor Strong declared.

  Before the girls could cover their heads, the photographer snapped their picture. But when the mayor noticed their blue hair, he gasped.

  “Blue hair?” the reporter tilted her head as she studied the girls. “Is this the cool new look for girls?”

  “No!” Nancy, Bess, and George said at the same time.

  “What’s that smell?” the photographer asked.

  “We had a bit of a glitch this morning,” Prissy explained as she hurried the visitors toward the door. “You’ll have to leave while we wash the girls’ hair.”

  Nancy, Bess, and George exchanged glum looks. Even the shoulders of their royal robes were stained blue!

  “What’s making our hair so stinky?” Bess asked.

  “It’s the smell of something fishy,” Nancy answered.

  “Not fish, Nancy,” George said. “Rotten eggs!”

  Nancy shook her head and whispered, “I mean someone messed up that Strawberry Spritz bottle on purpose.”

  “Who?” Bess whispered.

  “That’s what the Clue Crew is going to find out,” Nancy said. “But first we have to put our heads together.”

  While Prissy and Wendy gathered fresh towels and shampoo, Nancy spotted Kevin Garcia outside the window.

  “Why is Kevin peeking in here?” Nancy said.

  “No boys allowed!” Bess shouted to the window.

  Kevin must have heard Bess because he turned from the window and ran away.

  “Did you see that look on Kevin’s face?” George asked. “Are we that scary?”

  The girls glanced back at the mirror and answered at the same time: “YES!”

  “Should I wash my hair one more time, Hannah?” Nancy asked the next morning.

  “You had your hair washed well at the parlor yesterday,” Hannah said as she blow-dried Nancy’s damp hair. “I’m sure the stuff is out by now.”

  “I want to be extra-sure,” Nancy said. “My own dog won’t even come near me!”

  Nancy’s Labrador puppy, Chocolate Chip, lay on the floor right outside the bathroom door. Chip whined as she covered her nose with her paws.

  “All dry,” Hannah said. She switched off the noisy hairdryer just in time for Nancy to hear the doorbell.

  “That’s probably Bess and George,” Nancy said, tossing her freshly washed hair. She ran down the stairs and opened the door.

  There stood Bess and George, both with wet hair.

  “We washed our hair a hundred times to get the blue out,” George explained.

  “I even sprayed on my mom’s perfume to cover up the eggy smell,” Bess said. “It’s called Eau de Paris.”

  “More like Eau de P. U.!” George said, fanning the air with her hand.

  Nancy invited Bess and George into the house. Her father was finishing breakfast before going to his job at the law firm.

  “Did you see the morning paper, girls?” Mr. Drew asked. The River Heights Daily News was on the table next to his place mat.

  “Why? Are the comics really funny today, Mr. Drew?” Bess asked.

  “The comics might be,” Mr. Drew said. He held up the paper and sighed. “But this isn’t.”

  Nancy and her friends gasped at the front page. Splashed on it was a picture of them at Prissy’s Princess Parlor—blue hair and all!

  “It’s us,” Nancy gasped.

  “That’s the picture they took at the Princess Parlor!” George groaned.

  Nancy couldn’t believe her eyes. The front page was usually black and white. Today it was in color—so everyone could see their blue hair!

  “Princess Parlor Closes After Royal Blunder.” Nancy read the headline out loud.

  “Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?” Mr. Drew asked. “Now it won’t happen to any other girls.”

  Nancy shook her head. It wasn’t good news at all.

  “The makeover mess wasn’t Prissy’s or Wendy’s fault, Daddy,” Nancy explained. “We’re going to find out who did this so they can open the parlor again.”

  “The way it’s supposed to be!” Bess added.

  “If anyone can do it,” Mr. Drew said as he folded the paper, “it’s the Clue Crew!”

  “Thanks, Mr. Drew,” George said. “And we already have a pretty good idea who did it.”

  “We do? Who?” Bess asked as they left the kitchen.

  “Duh!” George groaned. “Suki and Ella were mad at us for winning the contest, remember?”

  “Suki and Ella were at the parlor yesterday too,” Nancy added. “They could have messed with the bottle of Strawberry Spritz while we were in the back room.”

  “Why didn’t I think of that?” Bess asked.

  “Because you washed your hair ten times last night, Bess,” George said. “Your brain is probably waterlogged!”

  Nancy buttoned up her spring jacket with the deep pockets. They were already stuffed with clear plastic bags for collecting clues.

  “Suki and Ella are our biggest suspects,” Nancy said. “But we need to find clues at Prissy’s Princess Parlor before we accuse them of anything.”

  “If it’s still open.” Bess sighed.

  The girls all had the same rule—they co
uld walk anywhere as long as it wasn’t more than five blocks from their houses—and as long as they were together.

  Nancy blew good-bye kisses to her father and Hannah. Then she and her friends left the house for River Street.

  “Do you think we’ll solve this case before spring break ends?” Bess asked.

  “I hope so,” Nancy admitted. “I would hate to go back to school not knowing who our enemies are.”

  “Speaking of enemies,” George whispered. “Here comes one of mine.”

  Nancy turned to see Trina walking toward them.

  “Hey, George!” Trina shouted meanly. “Thanks for making sure we lost yesterday.” She glared at George. “We lost by two points!” She held up two fingers. “Two stupid little points!”

  Nancy stared at Trina’s fingers as she waved them in front of their faces.

  “You had to go to that dumb Princess Parlor,” Trina said. “Since when do you like places like that, George?”

  “George won us free makeovers,” Bess explained. “Hair styles, manicures, pedicures—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I heard all about those makeovers!” Trina cut in with a laugh. “I guess the Clue Crew turned into the Blue Crew!”

  Trina stormed past the girls and up the block. “Blue Crew,” George scoffed. “That’s so funny I forgot to laugh.”

  “Trina shouldn’t talk,” Nancy said.

  “What do you mean?” Bess asked.

  Nancy turned to her friends, her eyes flashing. “Didn’t you notice something about Trina’s fingers?” she asked.

  “She held up two,” George said. “So what?”

  “Two,” Nancy said with a smile. “And blue!”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Caught Blue-Handed

  “Maybe Trina got blue fingers when she poured the stinky stuff in the bottle,” Nancy explained.

  “Trina would have washed her hands since yesterday, don’t you think?” Bess asked.

  “Not really,” Nancy said. “Trina is so sporty she makes George look like a flower fairy!”

  “Very funny,” George said, hands on her hips.

  “Trina was supermad at George for not playing basketball,” Nancy went on. “Maybe she was mad enough to get even.”

  “But how?” George asked. “Trina wasn’t even at the Princess Parlor yesterday.”

  “And she never will be!” Bess said, her eyes wide. “You heard her say how much she hates the place.”

  “Then how do you explain the blue-stained fingers?” Nancy asked, tapping her chin as she thought.

  “Maybe Trina was eating a blue Popsicle,” Bess said cheerily.

  “Maybe,” Nancy said. “But I still think the blue is a clue!”

  It was still early as they walked, but River Street was busy with shoppers and kids having fun on their last days of spring break.

  “You guys,” George suggested as they neared the parlor, “let’s not tell Prissy and Wendy we want to look for clues.”

  “Why not?” Nancy asked.

  “Some grown-ups don’t get kids being detectives,” George answered. She rolled her eyes. “They think we’re just playing!”

  “Got it,” Nancy agreed.

  When the girls reached the Princess Parlor, Prissy and Wendy were outside. One sister was sadly taking down the balloons. The other was taping a sign on the door that read: closed.

  “They can’t close the store without us looking for clues!” Nancy whispered.

  “I have an idea,” Bess whispered back. She ran toward the sisters shouting, “Wait! Don’t close the store yet!”

  “Why not?” Prissy asked.

  “I think I dropped my earring when I was getting my hair styled yesterday,” Bess blurted.

  “Oh, dear!” Wendy said. “What did it look like?”

  “Like this,” Bess said. She tugged at the little beaded earring hanging from her earlobe. “Did you see it?”

  “Um … yeah,” Wendy said, cocking her head. “It’s right there on your other earlobe.”

  Bess’s eyes widened. She then blurted, “That’s the third one and a spare! In case I lose one. Which I already did, so …”

  “Go ahead,” Prissy said. She unlocked the door and opened it for the girls.

  The Clue Crew went straight to the purple velvet chairs they sat in yesterday. Nancy found a wastebasket under the counter and peeked inside. The first thing she saw was a pink spray-pump bottle.

  “That’s got to be the bottle Prissy used on us,” Nancy whispered.

  George lifted it from the wastebasket. She took a whiff of the nozzle and said, “Ew! It’s the one, all right!”

  Nancy took the bottle from George. She turned it around in her hand looking for clues.

  “No fingerprints,” Nancy said. “Just a stinky bottle.”

  She was about to toss the bottle into the wastebasket when she noticed something stuck on the bottom of the bottle. It was a price label with a blue smudge!

  “Look!” Nancy said as she pointed out the smudge. “Whoever poured the stinky stuff inside must have gotten some on the label.”

  “Or,” Bess said. “Suki and Ella had their nails painted lots of colors. If their nails were still wet one of them could have gotten blue nail polish on the label.”

  “Whatever it is,” Nancy said, carefully peeling off the label and dropping it into a clue bag, “it’s a clue.

  “Done!” she said, sliding the bag back into her pocket. “Let’s go now, so Prissy and Wendy can close up.”

  The girls walked to the door. They were about to say good-bye when Wendy held out what looked like a folded note.

  “Can you do us a favor, pretty please?” Wendy asked. “Can you go upstairs and give this note to Marvin Dretzel?”

  “Dretzel the human pretzel?” George asked.

  “It’s a good-bye note,” Prissy explained. “We’re not sure if he knows we’re leaving today.”

  Nancy shuddered as she remembered Marvin’s grumpy face. But she forced a smile and said, “Sure, we’ll do it.”

  “You’re so neat!” Wendy said, handing the note to Nancy. She turned to Bess and asked, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “We sure did!” Bess said, eyeing Nancy’s pocket.

  The girls entered the doorway that led to the Yay for Yoga studio.

  “Why would Prissy and Wendy want to say good-bye to someone who doesn’t want them here?” Nancy wondered as they climbed the staircase.

  “Maybe it doesn’t say good-bye,” George chuckled. “Maybe it says ‘so long, sucker!’”

  At the top of the stairs the girls found the Yay for Yoga door. A sign on it read, class in session.

  “I’ll slide it under the door,” Nancy decided. But as she crouched down she caught a whiff of something sweet.

  “Bess! George!” Nancy said. “Do you smell that?”

  Bess and George wiggled their noses as they sniffed the air too.

  “Strawberries,” Bess said. “It’s coming from inside the studio.”

  “Do you think Marvin emptied out the bottle of Strawberry Spritz,” Nancy whispered, “and filled it with the stinky blue stuff right here in his studio?”

  “That’s pretty twisted,” George said, shaking her head. “Even for a human pretzel!”

  “Don’t you remember how much he hated the noise outside the other day?” Nancy asked.

  “He also said he hoped Prissy’s Princess Parlor wouldn’t last long!” Bess gasped. “I heard it with my own ears.”

  The girls gasped as the door was flung open. Staring down at them was Marvin Dretzel!

  “H-h-hi,” Nancy stammered. “We were just—”

  “I’m not here to judge,” Marvin said, quickly opening the door wider. “But you girls are late for class.”

  Nancy looked past Marvin into the studio. Several kids were sitting cross-legged on the floor.

  “Get into the lotus position right away so we can meditate,” Marvin said, ushering the girls into the studio.


  “What did he say?” George said.

  “He means twist ourselves up like pretzels and daydream,” Bess whispered. “That’s what my mom does.”

  “Let’s do it,” Nancy whispered. “Maybe we can find out where that strawberry smell is coming from.”

  Nancy stuffed Wendy’s note in her pocket as they followed Marvin into the studio. It was a big room with a desk against one wall and a metal shelf against another. The brick walls were covered with feel-good posters that said stuff like: “When Life Throws You Lemons, Make Lemonade,” and “Don’t Let the Turkeys Get You Down.”

  Copying the others the girls sat cross-legged on the floor. Marvin sat the same way as he called out in a soft voice, “Close your eyes and let your thoughts float like a Frisbee. Let them whiz by over your head … whiz by …”

  “You don’t let it whiz by, you catch it,” George whispered. “Didn’t he ever play Frisbee?”

  “He’s trying to make us relax,” Bess whispered.

  “Shhhh!” the other kids warned.

  Everyone’s eyes were closed except the Clue Crew’s. Theirs darted around the room looking for clues.

  “Look!” George suddenly whispered.

  Nancy turned to see George pointing to the shelf. On it were books, DVDs, a plant, and four familiar-looking bottles. Bess let out a little gasp when she saw them too.

  “Omigosh,” Bess whispered. “Those bottles look just like Strawberry Spritz!”

  Nancy agreed. No wonder the place smelled like strawberries. “Come on. Let’s check it out!” she whispered.

  The girls were about to stand when one of Marvin’s eyes blinked open. They froze back into position. But when Marvin closed his eyes again Nancy stood up. So did George.

  Both girls tiptoed to the shelf. Nancy picked up a bottle then gave George a thumbs-up.

  “Strawberry Spritz!” Nancy whispered.

  “Sweet!” George whispered back. “Where’s Bess?”

  Bess? Nancy turned to see Bess still sitting cross-legged on the floor.

  “Nancy, George, help!” Bess hissed. “My legs—they’re stuck!”

  CHAPTER FIVE