The Dashing Dog Mystery

  Bess was bouncing up and down with excitement. “I have my fingers double crossed for good luck,” she told Nancy and George.

  “Mine are triple crossed,” George said.

  Slowly Rex removed the slip from the jar. He unfolded it. “And the winner is . . .”

  Nancy, Bess, and George held their breath.

  “Nancy Drew!” Rex announced. “Come on up here, Nancy!”

  “Ohmigosh!” Nancy exclaimed.

  Bess grabbed her hand and began jumping up and down. “You won, Nancy! You won!” she cried out.

  Everyone in the room clapped. Dogs yipped and ran around in circles.

  Nancy walked across the room to the front counter. Rex had set the collar on a black velvet cushion. Up close, it was even more beautiful. The bone-shaped rhinestones sparkled brightly against the red leather of the collar.

  “Congratulations, Nancy,” Rex said. “I hope your dog will enjoy this very special collar.”

  “Thank you,” Nancy said, smiling. “She will.”

  Rex excused himself to welcome some guests who had just arrived. Just then Petra came marching up to Nancy. “I should have won that collar, and you know it!” she snapped. “It would look a lot better on Prince Fabian than on your . . . your . . . little brown mutt.”

  “That is a really mean thing to say,” Nancy shot back.

  “Humph!” Petra stuck her nose in the air and marched away. Prince Fabian followed obediently.

  “Ignore her,” George whispered to Nancy. “She’s a spoiled brat.”

  Nancy nodded. “She sure is.”

  “Excuse me!”

  Nancy turned around. Mrs. Vanderpool was standing there, smiling sweetly.

  “Excuse me,” Mrs. Vanderpool repeated in a low voice. “Nancy, is it? How much do you want for that collar? I must have it for one of my Yorkies.”

  Nancy was surprised by Mrs. Vanderpool’s request. “Thank you, but it’s not for sale,” she said.

  Mrs. Vanderpool stopped smiling. “Well!”

  After she had gone, Bess said, “Everyone seems to want the collar.”

  “Yes, but it’s Chip’s,” Nancy stated firmly. “We won it fair and square.”

  “That’s right!” George agreed.

  Nancy glanced at her watch. “Hannah will be picking us up in about twenty minutes,” she said to her friends. “Let’s check out the rest of the salon.”

  “Good idea,” Bess said. George nodded.

  Leaving Chip to play with a couple of other Labs, the girls began walking around the salon.

  They saw the Shampooch Room. Rex was demonstrating his new line of bathing products on a really wet golden retriever.

  They saw the Doggie Den, where a bunch of dogs were sitting on an overstuffed couch. They were watching cartoons about dogs chasing cats.

  The Dashing Dog also had an outside area. In it were a covered run, kennels, and a big patch of dirt. Petra’s dog, Prince Fabian, was chasing a couple of other terriers up and down the run.

  After a while the girls went back inside. The crowd had thinned somewhat. Nancy headed over to the counter so she could pick up the collar. Hannah would be arriving in just a few minutes.

  Nancy got to the counter—and gasped. The black velvet cushion was there. But the collar was gone!

  3

  On the Case

  Nancy glanced around the salon. The collar was nowhere to be seen.

  Bess and George were standing nearby, checking out a display of doggie sweaters. “Bess! George!” she cried out.

  “What’s the matter?” George asked her.

  Nancy pointed to the velvet cushion. “The collar is gone!” she announced.

  “What!” Bess gasped.

  Rex Rumford happened to pass by at that moment. His sleeves were rolled up, and his hands were still wet with shampoo and dog fur. “Hi, ladies. Are you enjoying yourselves?” he called out cheerfully.

  “Mr. Rumford, have you seen my Stella Sipowitz collar?” Nancy asked him. “I left it here, and now it’s gone.”

  Rex stopped in his tracks and frowned. “There must be some mistake.”

  “No, it’s definitely gone,” Nancy insisted.

  “Hmm, well, maybe someone picked it up by mistake and set it down somewhere,” Rex said.

  The four of them searched the area around the counter. There was no sign of the collar. Then they searched every inch of the salon. Chip trailed along, sniffing like a bloodhound.

  But the four of them—plus Chip—had no luck finding the collar. It was definitely gone.

  Nancy glanced around the salon, trying to figure out who might have seen the collar. But a lot of the guests had left, including Petra, Mrs. Vanderpool, and Lucas.

  Alice Cahill stopped Nancy near the doorway of the Doggie Lounge. Her green pen was poised over her notepad.

  “Excuse me, but did I hear you say that your collar is missing?” she said eagerly. “I’m Alice Cahill. I write the ’Pet Corner’ column for the River Heights Gazette. I’d love to have a quote from you for my column.”

  “A quote?” Nancy asked her.

  Alice nodded. “Yes. As in, what do you think happened to your collar? Do you think there’s a thief on the loose? Is River Heights being hit by a wave of doggie-collar crime? Do tell!” She glanced at her poodle, who was gnawing on a black leather backpack. “Pierre, you leave that nice backpack alone!”

  Nancy thought for a moment. Could someone have stolen her collar? If so, who?

  “I plan to get on the case,” Nancy told Alice in a determined voice. “If there’s a thief on the loose, I’m going to figure out who it is!”

  “Nancy’s a detective, Ms. Cahill,” George piped up.

  “Yeah, she’s the best detective at Carl Sandburg Elementary School,” Bess added. “She’s solved lots and lots of mysteries.”

  Chip barked excitedly.

  “Wonderful!” Alice said, scribbling like mad. “This is going to make a fabulous column!”

  Nancy was happy that she was going to be in Ms. Cahill’s “Pet Corner” column. But she would be a lot happier if she got her collar back—safe and sound!

  That night at dinner Nancy told her father what had happened at the Dashing Dog Pet Salon. She had already filled Hannah in during the car ride home.

  “You mean someone stole Chip’s new collar?” Carson Drew said when Nancy had finished. “That’s terrible!”

  Nancy took a bite of her grilled fish. “I’m not sure if someone stole Chip’s collar,” Nancy murmured. “But it looks like it. And I’m going to find out who!”

  “Do you have any suspects?” Hannah asked her.

  Nancy mulled this over. “Hmm. Well, there’s Petra Wylie. She goes to my school. She really, really wanted to win the collar for her dog, Prince Fabian. She kind of threw a fit when I won instead.”

  Carson broke off a piece of bread. “Sounds promising. Any other suspects?”

  “There’s also Mrs. Vanderpool,” Nancy said after a minute. “She really wanted the collar, too — for one of her Yorkies. She has two of them, and their names are Muffy or Puffy or Buffy or something like that. Anyway, she actually offered to buy Chip’s collar from me.”

  “Sounds like a prime suspect to me,” Hannah remarked.

  “I know you’ll figure this out,” Carson said. “You’re the best detective I know, Pudding Pie.” “Pudding Pie” was Carson’s nickname for Nancy.

  “Thanks, Daddy.” Nancy grinned.

  Later that night Nancy got out her special blue notebook. Her father had given it to her when she was trying to solve her first mystery. It helped her to keep track of suspects and clues.

  She snuggled under the covers, picked up her pen, and began to write:

  The Case of the Missing Doggie Collar

  Suspects:

  Petra Wylie, because she wanted the collar for her dog, Prince Fabian. Mrs. Vanderpool, because she wanted the collar for one of her Yorkies. Clues: ?????

  Nancy reread wha
t she had written. It gave her an idea. Tomorrow she would see if Bess and George could go with her to question the two suspects—in person.

  Petra lived a few streets from Nancy. On Saturday morning Nancy got permission to walk over to her house. Bess and George got permission from their parents, too.

  Outside, the air was brisk and cold. It felt as though it might start snowing any minute. As they walked, Nancy pulled her wool hat over her ears and rubbed her mittened hands together. Chip ran alongside her, keeping her nose low to the ground and sniffing every pebble and tree.

  “I think Petra’s totally guilty,” George said.

  “She was acting like a major spoiled brat yesterday,” Bess agreed.

  “I’m not sure. We’ll have to find more clues before we can accuse Petra,” Nancy said.

  They soon got to Petra’s house. It was big and pink, with green shutters and a huge wraparound porch. White holiday lights sparkled in all the windows, and a green wreath was hanging on the front door.

  Nancy rang the bell. After a minute Mrs. Wylie answered. “Hi, girls, what can I do for you?” she asked pleasantly.

  “Is Petra home?” Nancy said.

  Mrs. Wylie smiled. “She’s out back, playing with the dog. The easiest thing would be to go around the side and through the gate.”

  “Thank you,” Nancy said.

  Nancy headed for the backyard. George and Bess followed her. Nancy’s boots made squishing noises as she walked. The ground was muddy from when it had snowed and then thawed recently.

  When they got to the backyard, Nancy glanced around. She didn’t see Petra anywhere. But she did see Prince Fabian. He was running around and around with a chew toy in his mouth.

  Chip ran over to join him. The two dogs chased each other, barking happily.

  “I wonder where Petra is —” Nancy began. And then she stopped.

  Then Nancy noticed that Prince Fabian was wearing a collar. A jeweled collar.

  Prince Fabian was wearing Chip’s missing collar!

  4

  Sniffing for Clues

  Nancy couldn’t believe her eyes. Prince Fabian was wearing the stolen collar!

  “What are you doing here?”

  Nancy turned around. Petra was walking out of the garage, carrying a big rubber ball.

  Petra threw the rubber ball down on the ground. Both Prince Fabian and Chip dived after it.

  Then Petra turned to Nancy with an angry expression. “I said, what are you doing here?” she repeated.

  “I think the real question is, what is your dog doing with my dog’s collar?” Nancy shot back.

  “What?” Bess gasped. She glanced at Prince Fabian. “Nancy, you’re right! Petra, you’re the collar thief!” she said accusingly.

  Petra looked surprised. “What? What are you two talking about? What collar thief?”

  George put her hands on her hips. “You stole Chip’s collar yesterday at the Dashing Dog!”

  Petra’s jaw dropped. “I did no such thing!”

  Just then Prince Fabian came running in the girls’ direction. “Come here, boy,” Petra ordered. “That’s right, over here. Heel!”

  Prince Fabian skidded to a halt in front of Petra and wagged his tail expectantly. Petra pointed to the terrier’s collar. “See? That is not Chip’s collar,” she said triumphantly. “It’s another Stella Sipowitz collar. It’s a lot prettier, if you ask me!”

  Nancy bent down and took a closer look. Petra was right. Prince Fabian was not wearing Chip’s collar.

  Prince Fabian’s collar was made out of stretchy red fabric, not leather. And the rhinestones were shaped like hearts, not bones.

  “Um . . . I’m sorry I accused you,” Nancy apologized. She explained to Petra that someone had taken Chip’s collar the day before at the Dashing Dog.

  When she had finished, she added, “Where did you get this collar, anyway?”

  “At the Dashing Dog,” Petra replied. “When my mom picked me up, I told her about not winning the raffle. So she came into the salon and bought me this collar instead.”

  Nancy apologized to Petra again. Then she, Bess, and George turned to leave.

  Nancy had a hard time getting Chip to come with them. She was having such a good time playing with Prince Fabian. Nancy finally got her to part with her new friend after bribing her with a doggie biscuit.

  “Now what?” Bess asked Nancy once they were out on the sidewalk.

  “Now we go to my house to have lunch,” Nancy said. “Then, afterward, we check out Suspect Number Two.”

  After a yummy lunch of grilled-cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, courtesy of Hannah, Nancy and her friends got permission to pay Mrs. Vanderpool a visit. Mrs. Vanderpool lived near the park where the girls liked to play.

  This time Nancy left Chip with Hannah. It was Chip’s nap time, anyway.

  Mrs. Vanderpool’s house was an enormous white mansion with big, tall columns. The girls walked down a path lined with low bushes and stone statues of Yorkshire terriers.

  “Oh, brother,” George said, rolling her eyes at the statues.

  In a shady spot near the garage, Nancy thought she saw the melting remains of a snow statue. It looked suspiciously like a cat. She wondered if Lucas had made it.

  Nancy knocked on the door. After a minute it was answered by a woman dressed in a maid’s uniform.

  “Yes, may I help you?” the woman said.

  “We’d like to see Mrs. Vanderpool,” Bess piped up.

  “She’s not home right now,” the maid replied.

  “How about Lucas?” Nancy said quickly.

  The maid smiled and opened the door wider. “He’s upstairs in his room. Why don’t you go on up? It’s the third door on the right.”

  Nancy grinned. “Thanks!”

  Nancy, Bess, and George went through the doorway and up the marble staircase.

  Mrs. Vanderpool’s house was as fancy on the inside as it was on the outside. It was furnished with antique furniture and red velvet curtains. The walls were covered with gold-and-red wallpaper. There were several portraits of Yorkies in the front hallway.

  “Why do you want to see Lucas?” Bess whispered to Nancy as they went up the stairs.

  “If his grandmother took the collar, he might know something,” Nancy whispered back. “Plus, this gives us an excuse to look for those Yorkies. Maybe one of them is wearing Chip’s collar.”

  George gave Nancy a thumbs-up sign. “Good idea!”

  When they got to the upstairs landing, Nancy turned and proceeded down the hall. She spotted the two Yorkies. They were crouched in front of a closed door and sniffing like mad.

  “That’s the third doorway on the right — Lucas’s bedroom,” Nancy whispered. “I wonder what’s so interesting to those dogs?”

  “Maybe Lucas is hiding a secret stash of doggie biscuits in his room,” Bess suggested.

  Nancy went up to the Yorkies. She saw that neither one of them was wearing Chip’s collar. They were both wearing simple blue collars with dog tags on them.

  “Oh, well,” Nancy said with a sigh.

  The Yorkies ignored her and continued sniffing. Nancy was surprised that they weren’t yipping at her and her friends. The Yorkies seemed a lot more interested in whatever was behind the closed door.

  Nancy was about to knock on the door to see if Lucas was inside. Just then she heard footsteps behind her.

  She turned around. Lucas was standing there. “You can’t go in there!” he cried out.

  5

  Too Many Entries

  Lucas ran past Nancy and flattened his body against his bedroom door. “If you go in there, you’ll be in big trouble!” he warned.

  Nancy frowned. Lucas seemed to be in a panic about something. What was going on?

  Nancy pointed to the door. “That’s your room, right?” she asked Lucas.

  Lucas hesitated. “R-right. So?”

  “So we were just looking for you,” Nancy explained. “We wanted to ask you some questions
and stuff.”

  Lucas glanced around nervously. “Questions . . . about what?”

  “About your grandmother,” George piped up.

  “M-my grandmother?” Lucas repeated.

  The Yorkies were still sniffing like mad at the closed door. One of them began yipping and scratching the wood on either side of Lucas. The other one joined in.

  “By the way, what’s in your room?” Bess asked Lucas. “More dogs? Or doggie biscuits? Or what?”

  Lucas turned white as a ghost. “You all have to go!” he burst out. “Right now! I’m really, really super-busy, and besides, Grandma’s going to be home any minute. Maybe we could do this question thing another time, okay?”

  Nancy was going to argue with him, but he really wanted them to leave. “Come on, let’s go,” Nancy said to Bess and George. The three girls waved goodbye to Lucas and the yipping Yorkies and headed down the stairs.

  Once they were back outside, George turned to Nancy. “Why do you think Lucas was being so weird?”

  “I don’t know,” Nancy said, pulling on her mittens. “He sure was acting suspicious.”

  “Nancy!” Bess gasped. “I just had an idea! What if Lucas is the collar thief?”

  Nancy nodded. Bess’s idea made sense. “That sure would explain why he wouldn’t let us into his room. Maybe he was hiding Chip’s collar in there.”

  She paused at one of the stone Yorkie statues. It had a bow around its neck. “On the other hand, Lucas doesn’t even like dogs,” she murmured. “So why would he steal the doggie collar?”

  Carson Drew took a sip of coffee. “So how’s your big case going, Pudding Pie?” he asked Nancy.

  It was Sunday morning. The two of them were having brunch at Chez Meow, a restaurant in downtown River Heights. It was called Chez Meow because a cat named Meow lived there.

  Nancy liked Chez Meow. There were framed pictures of cats all over the bright yellow walls. Meow herself, who was big and white and fluffy, sat preening her fur in a sunny window.