A Musical Mess

  The girls talked quietly as they followed Mrs. Fayne backstage.

  “What do you mean, a fake, Nancy?” Bess whispered.

  “He looked like the real Sammy to me!” George said.

  “He may have looked like Sammy,” Nancy whispered, “but he sure didn’t act like him.”

  Backstage was just as wild as onstage. Nadine shrieked as the dog chomped through Mrs. Fayne’s fruit platter. Marcy and Cassidy were there too, trying to pull Sammy away from the table.

  “He’s out of control!” Marcy shouted.

  The dog was now leaping at a creamy strawberry shortcake. One of his paws was covered with strawberry jam!

  “What a mess!” Kira began to sob. “First my wig goes missing, and now Sammy goes bonkers!”

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” Carlos said as he ran toward the dog. “He was fine all morning.”

  “I told you to have an understudy for Sammy,” Blair said. “Another dog to take his place in an emergency.”

  Carlos grabbed the dog’s collar and gently pulled him away from the cake. But when he kneeled down in front of him, his eyes grew wide.

  “That’s strange,” Carlos said, looking the dog up and down. “There’s no star-shaped mark on his front leg. His fur isn’t clipped as short either—”

  “Carlos, what are you saying?” Blair cut in.

  “I’m saying this dog is not Sammy!” Carlos insisted.

  Nancy looked at Bess and George as if to say, I told you!

  “Not Sammy?” Kira cried.

  “If that isn’t the real Sammy,” Blair said, “then where is the real Sammy?”

  Carlos slowly shook his head. “I—I don’t know!” he stammered.

  The dog broke away from Carlos and ran in the direction of the girls. He jumped up on George, his paws landing on her chest.

  “Down!” Carlos said, tugging the dog off George.

  “Ew!” Bess said. She pointed to a strawberry paw-print stain on George’s T-shirt. “Look what he did to your shirt.”

  “That’s okay.” George chuckled. “Now I have a pawtograph too!”

  But Blair wasn’t laughing. “If our star dog isn’t back to normal soon,” she said, “we’re canceling all performances in River Heights.”

  Cancel the show? Nancy’s heart sank. What if she, Bess, and George never got to see Francie? Or any Broadway show? She couldn’t let that happen!

  “Time to go now, girls,” Mrs. Fayne said. She was holding a cardboard box filled with unused party supplies.

  “Bess, George,” Nancy said softly as they followed Mrs. Fayne out of the theater, “if Sammy was switched, maybe there’s a way to find the real Sammy!”

  “But who would take Sammy?” George asked.

  “And switch him with another dog?” Bess added.

  Nancy tapped her chin thoughtfully, then said, “I’m not sure yet. But it’s time for the Clue Crew to find out!”

  * * *

  “It’s too bad you didn’t get to see the show, Nancy,” Mr. Drew said, taking a dinner roll from the bread basket.

  Nancy nodded. She wished she could talk with her mouth full, because all she wanted to do was talk about Sammy!

  “The dog went bonkers,” Nancy finally said. “I think someone switched the real Sammy with a fake Sammy, Daddy.”

  Hannah Gruen placed another stuffed pepper on Nancy’s plate. “So you, Bess, and George want to find the real Sammy, right?” she asked.

  “How did you know, Hannah?” Nancy asked, smiling.

  “I’ve been your housekeeper since you were three years old,” Hannah said. “I know everything about you, Nancy Drew!”

  “Uh-oh!” Nancy giggled. Hannah was more like a mother to Nancy than a housekeeper. No wonder she knew everything!

  “Do you think you know who took the real Sammy?” Mr. Drew asked.

  “Maybe Antonio did it.” Nancy shrugged. “He could have stolen Kira’s wig and decided to steal Sammy, too.”

  “That would be very hard,” Mr. Drew said.

  “Why, Daddy?” Nancy asked. Her father was a lawyer but often thought just like a detective!

  “Antonio would need a dog that looked just like Sammy,” Mr. Drew said. “Where would he find one so fast?” Nancy gave it some thought. Maybe her dad was right. And if Antonio was at rehearsal all day for the show, how would he have had time to get another dog?

  “At least you have a souvenir from the show,” Hannah said. She handed Nancy the Francie program she had gotten at the theater.

  Nancy hadn’t looked through it yet. She opened the program and something fell out: a small piece of paper.

  “What does it say?” Mr. Drew asked.

  Nancy read the paper out loud. “The part of the cow will be played by Tommy Maran.”

  “So Antonio was not at the theater all day,” Hannah said. “Maybe he got sick.”

  “Or maybe,” Nancy said, narrowing her eyes, “the director got sick of Antonio!”

  * * *

  The next morning the Clue Crew got right to work on the case. It was a warm summer day, so they decided to make the Drews’ picnic table their detective headquarters.

  “Thanks for bringing your laptop, George,” Bess said.

  “No problem,” George said as she typed. She had already opened a case file called “Sammy—Real or Fake?”

  Nancy’s puppy, Chip, sat on the grass at their feet.

  “Let’s figure out a time line,” Nancy suggested.

  “Carlos took Sammy in at about noon,” George said. “And the show was at three, so—”

  “So the switcheroo happened between noon and three!” Nancy pointed to the computer. “Write that down, George!”

  “I’m writing, I’m writing,” George said, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

  Suddenly Bess pointed to George’s T-shirt and said, “Ew, George. Is that the same shirt you wore yesterday?”

  “So?” George said.

  “So it’s still got the grubby paw print on it!” Bess cried.

  Paw print? Nancy’s eyes lit up.

  “You guys,” Nancy said, “if no two fingerprints are the same, what about paw prints?”

  “What do you mean?” George asked.

  Nancy pointed to the strawberry print on George’s shirt. “All we have to do is compare that one to the real Sammy’s paw print,” she said.

  “And I happen to have his pawtograph!” Bess said with a smile. She reached into her backpack and carefully pulled out the print. “I thought this might come in handy today!”

  Nancy took the pawtograph and held it up to the print on George’s shirt.

  “They don’t match!” Bess piped up. “The paw on George’s T-shirt is bigger than Sammy’s pawtograph.”

  “So the Sammys were definitely switched!” Nancy said.

  “Now we have to figure out who switched them,” George said.

  While George began their suspect list, Nancy spoke about Antonio. If he wasn’t at rehearsal yesterday, he’d have had plenty of time to find a dog that looked like Sammy.

  “You guys!” George said. “Antonio’s mom runs a doggy day care center in their backyard.”

  “How do you know?” Nancy asked.

  “My neighbors’ dog went there while they were on vacation,” George said. “It’s called Fetching Friends.”

  “Maybe there was an Airedale at Fetching Friends!” Nancy said excitedly. “Write Antonio’s name down, George!”

  When she was done, George asked, “Who else?”

  Nancy scrunched her eyebrows together as she thought. Then—a brain click!

  “Winslow Minty!” she said, suddenly remembering. “We saw him sneak out of Sammy’s dressing room with a crate. Maybe it was a pet carrier.”

  “But why would Winslow want to take Sammy?” Bess asked.

  “Winslow was mad at Francie for taking the theater,” George pointed out. “He might have switched dogs to ruin the show.”

  “We als
o heard him say he did something bad!” Nancy said. “Write that—”

  “I am, I am,” George said as she added Winslow’s name to the list.

  “We have two good suspects,” Nancy said, leaning down to pet Chip. “So let’s get to work!”

  Antonio’s house was three blocks away, so the girls began with him.

  Before they left, George finally agreed to change her shirt. “Much better!” Bess said approvingly.

  On the way to Antonio Elfano’s house, Bess groaned, “I can’t believe we’re going to Antonio’s house. It’s probably rigged with practical jokes.”

  They reached the Elefano house. A colorful sign for Fetching Friends Doggy Day Care stood in the front. An arrow on the sign pointed toward the backyard.

  “Let’s go,” Nancy said in a low voice.

  The girls slinked alongside the house to the back. They peeked out from around the house into the yard. It was filled with dogs and doggy playthings: balls, Frisbees, chew toys—even a shallow wading pool.

  “There’s Antonio,” George whispered.

  Antonio looked bored as he tossed a Frisbee to a tiny white barking dog. There were all kinds of dogs scampering about. All kinds except an Airedale! The Frisbee soared past the little dog, landing in front of a doghouse. A large tan dog stepped out of the house to sniff the toy, then grabbed it between his teeth and brought it back to Antonio. Nancy and her friends gasped. The dog looked just like Sammy!

  “OMG!” Nancy whispered. “It must be Sammy!”

  Backyard Bluff

  “Antonio Elefano, give me that dog!” Nancy shouted as the girls charged into the backyard.

  Antonio looked surprised to see Nancy, Bess, and George. “No way!” he shouted back.

  The Airedale wore a leash. Antonio reached down to grab it, but George grabbed it first.

  “What are you doing here, anyway?” Antonio demanded.

  “We think that Sammy was switched with another dog,” Nancy said.

  “And that this is the real Sammy!” George said, holding the leash tightly.

  “Why would I want to switch dogs?” Antonio demanded.

  “To be pesty!” Bess said angrily.

  A sly grin appeared on Antonio’s face. “Pesty, huh?” he said. “You mean like this?”

  Antonio turned. He tossed the Frisbee way over the wading pool and shouted, “Go get it, boy!”

  The Airedale barked, then broke into a run, pulling his leash—and George!

  “Stoooop!” George shouted as the big dog dragged her across the grass.

  “George, look out!” Nancy shouted.

  Too late! The dog raced through the wading pool, yanking George behind him. The wet dog stopped on the other side to snatch up the Frisbee. Also dripping wet was George. She sat up in the pool, the leash still in her hand.

  “It’s a good thing it’s summer,” George snapped.

  Antonio laughed meanly. “Now will you let go of that dog—and get lost?” He sneered.

  “Not until you tell us where you were yesterday afternoon,” Nancy said, “between noon and three o’clock.”

  “I gave that goofy cow costume back and came home,” Antonio explained. “When my mom found out what I did with that pen, she made me work all day with these stinky dogs.”

  “Grounded all day, huh?” George said.

  “Not totally,” Antonio said. “My mom let me take the dogs on a field trip to the Sit, Stay Café.”

  Two dogs started fighting over a chew toy. While Antonio ran to break it up, the girls began to whisper.

  “Sit, Stay Café?” George asked. “Is that place for real?”

  Nancy nodded and said, “They make the cutest doggy cupcakes. Chip loves going there.”

  Bess shrieked as the Airedale shook water from his fur, getting her wet too. As the dog lifted his head Nancy noticed a silver heart-shaped ID around his neck. She lifted it and read it out loud: “Mister Chomps.”

  “That’s his name?” George asked.

  “But it’s supposed to be Sammy!” Bess said.

  An idea suddenly popped into Nancy’s head. She turned to George and said, “Drop the leash.”

  George shrugged and dropped the leash. The dog ran a few feet before Nancy called, “Mister Chomps! Here, Mister Chomps!”

  The dog’s ears perked up. He stopped running, then turned and ran straight to Nancy!

  “This must be Mister Chomps,” Nancy said.

  “Duh!” Antonio said, walking over. “I told you he wasn’t Sammy.”

  Nancy glanced down at the dog’s leg. There was no white star-shaped mark either.

  “Now do you believe I didn’t switch those dogs?” Antonio asked.

  “I guess,” Nancy admitted. But as she and her friends left the Elefano house, they still weren’t sure.

  “What if Mister Chomps was Sammy’s name before he got adopted?” Nancy wondered. “And what if Sammy’s white star-shaped mark was covered with dirt? Maybe that’s why I couldn’t see it.”

  “How do we know Antonio really went to that doggy café yesterday?” Bess asked.

  “Easy. We go to the café and ask!” George said. She shook water out of her wet curls, making Bess shriek again.

  The Sit, Stay Café was on Main Street and only two blocks away. It was busy with human and canine customers as the girls stepped inside. Some sat at small tables, while others stood at the counter, buying fancy doggy treats.

  Nancy spotted the owner of the café, Rochelle Rottweiler. Rochelle was proud to have the same name as her favorite breed of dog.

  “Hi, Ms. Rottweiler,” Nancy said. “Was there a boy here yesterday with a whole bunch of dogs?”

  Rochelle wiped cupcake cream off her hands, onto an apron. “Many kids were here with dogs,” she said. Her eyes suddenly narrowed. “But one kid must have thought he was a comedian.”

  “What do you mean?” Nancy asked.

  Rochelle reached behind the counter for a paper sign that read NO DOGS ALLOWED!

  “No dogs allowed?” Bess asked, confused. “That was put up outside?”

  “But this is a dog café!” George said.

  “Exactly,” Rochelle said, crumpling up the sign. “It must have been a practical joke.”

  Practical joke? Nancy’s eyes widened. Practical jokes meant Antonio Elefano!

  “What time was the sign put up?” Nancy asked.

  “Probably around two or three o’clock,” Rochelle said with a frown. “Right before customers stopped coming in.”

  “Oh,” Nancy said. Antonio was at the café at the time of the crime.

  The girls thanked Rochelle and left the café. Once outside, Nancy said, “Antonio’s excuse checked out. I guess he’s not a suspect anymore.”

  “But he’ll always be a pest!” Bess insisted.

  “Our only suspect now is Winslow Minty,” Nancy reminded them, “from the Croaking Frog Players.”

  “We did see him lugging something that looked like a kennel out of Sammy’s dressing room,” Bess said. “What if the kennel wasn’t empty?”

  George’s stomach let out a loud growl. She patted it and said, “The only thing empty right now is my stomach!”

  “Okay, okay.” Nancy giggled. “Let’s go for some pizza!”

  The Clue Crew walked down Main Street toward their favorite pizza parlor. On the way Bess stopped suddenly and said, “Look!”

  Nancy looked to see what Bess was pointing to. It was a flyer for the next Croaking Frog Players show.

  “The play is called Sea Dog on Deck,” Nancy said, reading the flyer out loud.

  “Dog?” George asked.

  “Their next show stars a dog!” Bess gasped.

  “And the only star dog I can think of,” Nancy said firmly, “is Sammy!”

  Biggest Fan!

  After a quick pizza break the girls hurried straight to the Croaking Frog Players’ theater.

  “This used to be a cookie factory!” Bess said outside the theater. “Do you think they
’ll still have cookies?”

  “We just had pizza!” Nancy said.

  “But we didn’t have dessert!” Bess said with a smile.

  Luckily, the front door was unlocked. Nancy quietly pulled it open. As they stepped inside they looked around.

  “Wow!” George exclaimed.

  There were no cookie-making machines anywhere. Or cookies. Instead there were rows of chairs facing a stage.

  “It’s a real live theater,” Nancy pointed out.

  “Yeah, but I can still smell the cookies,” Bess said, taking a whiff. “Oatmeal raisin!”

  Nancy didn’t see any other people, just a winding staircase. “Should we go upstairs?” she asked softly.

  “Not until I see the set!” Bess said. She raced to the stage and climbed the few steps leading up to it. Nancy and George traded shrugs, then joined Bess.

  “Pretty neat,” George said, looking around. The stage was decorated to look just like a ship. There were barrels and rope nets. The backdrop was painted to look like a cloudy sky filled with seagulls.

  “Look at that!” Nancy said. She pointed to a huge round machine that looked like a fan. “I’ve never seen such a big fan in my life.”

  Suddenly—

  “Whooooaaaa!”

  Nancy turned to see George on the floor. She had slipped on a clump of sandy-colored hair.

  “Are you okay, George?” Nancy asked.

  “I think so,” George said. She nodded at the clump of hair still on the floor. “But where did that come from?”

  “What if the hair is dog hair?” Bess asked. “It is the same color as Sammy’s!”

  “If it is Sammy’s hair,” Nancy said, “then where is he?”

  “Maybe in there!” George said, pointing a few feet away. Nancy followed George’s gaze and gasped. It was a big plastic crate exactly like the one they had seen Winslow Minty with. Was it a pet carrier?

  The girls circled the crate, checking it out. It didn’t have a front opening like most pet carriers. Instead it had a lid on top. A closed lid!

  “Winslow wouldn’t keep poor Sammy in there, would he?” Bess gulped.

  Nancy hoped not. She reached out to open the lid. But then—voices!

  “Someone’s coming!” Bess gasped.

  “If they find us snooping around onstage, they’ll make us leave,” Nancy whispered. “Then we’ll never find Sammy!”