The Lost Locket Page 3
“Why not?” George asked. “Just because he didn’t mention peanut butter sandwiches? Or just because he’s nice?”
“Just because,” Nancy said. “It’s a hunch.”
“Okay,” George agreed. “Now what?”
Nancy looked at her watch. The movie was starting in an hour. Oh, well, Nancy thought. Maybe she and her two best friends could go next week.
“Now we wait for school tomorrow,” Nancy said. “Because that’s when I’m going to solve the case.”
“How are you going to do that?” George asked.
“Easy,” Nancy said with a laugh. “There are only two suspects left!”
7
Bus Buddies
Hannah, make me an extra-big lunch, okay?” Nancy asked when she came downstairs on Monday morning.
“Poof!” Hannah said. She waved a wooden spoon as if it were a magic wand. “You’re an extra-big lunch!”
Nancy laughed. “That’s Daddy’s joke,” she said. “But really—Ms. Spencer told us to bring a big lunch today. Our class is going on a field trip.”
“I remember,” Hannah said. “To a pumpkin farm, right?”
“Right,” Nancy said.
“Well, don’t worry,” Hannah said. “I’ve already packed your lunch, and I put a surprise in it for you.”
“What is it?” Nancy asked.
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” Hannah said with a smile.
Nancy put her pink-and-purple lunch sack in her backpack and skipped out the door.
“Have fun!” Hannah called.
When Nancy got to school, all the third graders were lining up beside a big yellow school bus.
“Nancy!” two voices called. One was Bess’s. She was lined up near the front of Ms. Spencer’s class.
The other voice was George’s. She was near the back of the line.
Nancy waved to George.
“Nancy! Over here!” Bess called again. She motioned for Nancy to come stand with her. “Sit with me on the bus, okay?”
“Okay,” Nancy said. But she thought, I wish George could sit with us, too.
“Did you figure out who stole my locket yet?” Bess asked.
Nancy shook her head. Then she looked around. Mike Minelli was standing right behind her. She leaned close to Bess’s ear and cupped her hands. “I’ve got it down to two suspects. Jenny and Mike.”
Bess’s eyes widened. She turned her head and looked at Mike sideways.
“He probably did it,” Bess whispered to Nancy. “Jenny’s too nice.”
Nancy thought Jenny was nice, too. But that didn’t matter. She was trying to be a detective. And Nancy’s father said a detective always had to stick to the facts.
“Guess what I found out?” Bess said.
“What?” Nancy asked.
“I found out why Karen Koombs was acting so guilty.”
“Really? Why?”
“Well,” Bess said, “my mother talked to Karen’s mother. And she says that Karen didn’t steal any money from the office last year. But everyone thinks she did. So she gets blamed for everything.”
“Oh,” Nancy said. That made her feel bad. She was sorry she had put Karen at the top of her list.
A moment later it was time for Nancy’s class to get on the bus. Ms. Spencer stood by the bus door with a big empty shopping bag.
“Put your lunch sacks in here,” she said.
Nancy dropped her lunch sack in and followed Bess up the bus steps. Bess took a seat by the window. Nancy sat beside her in the middle seat. That left one space near the aisle in the big bench seat.
A girl from Nancy’s class started to sit in it.
“That seat’s taken,” Nancy said.
“Oh,” the girl said.
A minute later a boy tried to sit there.
Nancy put her hand on the seat. “This seat is saved,” she said.
“I know what you’re trying to do,” Bess said. “You’re trying to save a seat for George. But it won’t work. Even if she sits with us, I won’t talk to her.”
“I wish you and George would make up,” Nancy said. “I’m tired of this fight.”
More third graders piled onto the bus. They pushed and shouted, calling to their friends and trying to get the best seats.
Finally George arrived. She was the last person on. She tried not to look at Bess. But there were no other empty seats. So George had to sit with Bess and Nancy.
“Hi!” Nancy said cheerfully.
“Hi,” George said in a low voice so that Bess wouldn’t be included. She folded her arms across her chest and stared out the window on the other side.
Oh, boy, Nancy thought. This is going to be a long trip!
At last they got to the pumpkin farm. Ms. Spencer divided the class into small groups. Each group was given a measuring tape and a sheet of paper. They had to find the biggest pumpkin on the farm and measure it.
Nancy, Bess, and George were in a group together. Nancy wrote the measurements down in inches. George wrote them down in metric. Bess did the measuring.
Then they had to weigh three pumpkins. There was a big, flat scale by the barn. The pumpkins were heavy, so grown-ups had to help.
By the time they were done, everyone was hungry for lunch.
Ms. Spencer stood by the picnic tables with the big shopping bag. “Your lunch sacks are here,” she called out.
Nancy, Bess, and George found their lunches in the big bag. But Bess refused to pick a table and sit down.
“I’m not eating with George,” Bess said firmly.
“And I’m not eating with her,” George said.
“Fine,” Nancy said angrily. “And guess what? I’m not eating with either of you!”
“What?”
George sounded totally surprised. Bess just stared with her mouth open.
“I’m sick of your fighting,” Nancy said. “You were both wrong. George was wrong to put the locket in her backpack. But she didn’t lose it on purpose,” Nancy said to Bess. “And, Bess—you were wrong to tear up the newspaper clipping. You knew how special that was to George.”
“But she was acting like she didn’t care!” Bess whined.
“It doesn’t matter,” Nancy said. “You were still wrong. And now you’re both acting like, well, like jerks!”
“Ooh! How can you say that?” Bess said, stamping her foot.
“Because friends are more important than lockets. Or newspaper clippings. Or anything else,” Nancy said. “And you’re acting like you don’t know that.”
Bess was quiet then, but her face said a lot. It said that she knew Nancy was right. George was blushing, too. Nancy had never seen George blush.
“So go ahead and eat your lunch— wherever you want,” Nancy said in a calmer tone of voice. “I’ll be back in a minute. First I want to see what Jenny and Mike are eating.”
Nancy turned her back on her friends and walked away. But when they weren’t looking, she smiled. Maybe they would stop fighting now. At least it was worth a try!
It took only a minute for Nancy to find Jenny March and sneak a look at her lunch. Jenny was eating hot soup from a thermos. No peanut butter with relish was in sight.
Then Nancy wandered past Mike’s table. She had to pass it three times. Finally she got the answer. Mike wasn’t eating peanut butter, either. Just a ham sandwich and a huge bag of nacho chips.
By the time Nancy got back to her own table, Bess and George were smiling.
“We made up,” Bess announced, as if it had been her idea.
“Really?” Nancy said. “That’s great!”
She hugged Bess and George both. This was the best news she’d had all day!
“You were right,” Bess went on. “Friends are more important than lockets.”
George smiled. “And more important than newspaper clippings,” she said.
“So anyway, did you find out who stole the locket?” Bess asked eagerly.
Nancy shook her head. She sat down on t
he picnic bench. “I guess maybe I’ll never find out,” she said glumly. “This mystery was just too hard.”
“Oh, well,” Bess said. She tried not to sound too disappointed.
But Nancy was the most disappointed of all. It was no fun being a detective if she couldn’t solve the case!
Nancy opened her pink-and-purple lunch sack. She took out all the food.
“Hard-boiled eggs?” Nancy said. “I hate hard-boiled eggs! I can’t believe this is the surprise Hannah packed in my lunch.”
Just then Nancy heard Molly Angelo talking. She was a small, bouncy girl with long curly dark hair and a good sense of humor. But she was complaining at the table behind them.
“Tuna fish?” Molly was saying. “I’m allergic to tuna fish! Why would my mother put that in my lunch?”
Nancy jumped up and looked at Molly’s lunch. There were two tuna fish sandwiches, an apple, a box of juice— and a big piece of pumpkin pie. It was just the kind of lunch that Hannah always packed. Except that on normal days, Hannah put in only one sandwich and no pie. The pumpkin pie must have been the surprise—since they were going to a pumpkin farm.
Then Nancy saw Molly’s lunch sack. It was pink and purple—exactly like Nancy’s.
“You’ve got my lunch by mistake,” Nancy said to Molly.
“Really?” Molly said. Nancy nodded. “That’s good,” Molly said. “Because if I eat tuna fish, I’ll barf.”
Nancy laughed and traded lunches with Molly.
Finally Nancy sat down with Bess and George again. But she didn’t eat her food. She just sat there, staring off into space.
“What’s wrong now?” George asked.
“Nothing,” Nancy said, still staring. “It’s just that. . .” Nancy’s voice trailed off.
“What?” Bess and George both asked.
“It’s just that I think I know where your locket is!”
8
Locket Found
You do? You know where my locket is?” Bess said.
“Just let me think a minute more,” Nancy said, closing her eyes.
Yes! It all made sense, Nancy decided. A minute ago she had taken the wrong lunch by mistake because her lunch sack looked just like Molly’s.
So maybe—just maybe—the same thing had happened on Friday. Maybe someone had taken George’s backpack by mistake. Someone who had a backpack just like hers.
If Nancy was right, then Bess’s locket wasn’t stolen. It might still be in George’s backpack.
Bess and George squirmed while Nancy was thinking. Finally she opened her eyes.
“Okay. I’m pretty sure I’m right,” she said.
“Where is it?” Bess asked.
“In George’s backpack,” Nancy said.
Bess threw up her hands. “But we looked there! It was gone.”
“No,” Nancy said. “That’s the problem. I don’t think we looked in George’s backpack. I think we looked in someone else’s.”
Quickly Nancy explained her idea. But George shook her head.
“That can’t be right,” George said. “I know it’s my backpack because my notebook was in there.”
“Are you sure? Maybe it wasn’t your notebook,” Nancy said.
George jumped up and ran to the school bus. Her backpack was inside, on the floor under her seat.
Nancy and Bess followed her.
As fast as she could, George un-zipped the big zipper and pulled her notebook out. Then she opened it.
Inside the cover, in big red letters, was a name.
Ned Nickerson!
“I don’t believe it!” George said. “You’re right. It’s not my backpack. It’s his! And he has a notebook just like mine, too.”
“Didn’t you even look in your notebook on the weekend?” Bess asked.
“No,” George said. “Why should I? We didn’t have any homework.” Then suddenly her face lit up. “I just remembered,” she added. “The notebook came with the backpack. It was a free gift. That’s why his notebook is the same as mine!”
Nancy smiled so hard her face hurt. It was the best feeling in the world— solving a mystery!
“You are the smartest person I’ve ever known,” Bess said to Nancy.
“That goes double for me,” George said.
The girls went back to the picnic table. But Nancy could hardly eat her lunch. She was too excited. She couldn’t wait to get back to school and talk to Ned.
“Hey, does this mean Ned Nickerson eats gross peanut butter sandwiches?” George asked suddenly.
“I guess so,” Nancy said. “But I can’t believe it. Yuck.”
• • •
When the bus got back to school, it was ten minutes after three. The school bell had already rung. Ned Nickerson was waiting outside.
“I think you’ve got my backpack,” he said as George stepped off the bus.
“No, you’ve got mine,” George corrected him. “You’re the person who took the wrong one.”
“Yeah. I guess I did,” Ned said. “I should have noticed it, too. The straps were way too short.”
“Well, here.” George held out Ned’s backpack and they traded. Then Ned checked to be sure his notebook was inside.
“I did all my math homework on Friday in school,” Ned said. “But I got a zero for today, anyway—because I couldn’t turn in my homework.”
“Too bad,” Bess said. “Maybe you can make it up.”
“Yeah,” Ned said. He started to walk away, but Nancy stopped him.
“I have a question,” she said. “There was a really gross sandwich in there on Friday. Do you really eat peanut butter with all that stuff on it?”
“No way!” Ned said. “My uncle Matt did that.”
“Did what?” Nancy asked.
“He made my lunch and put that sandwich in there—as a joke.” Ned made a face.
“Your uncle plays jokes on you?” Nancy asked.
“He’s nineteen years old,” Ned explained. “And he’s staying with us. He thought it was a riot. Ha-ha. It was so funny, I forgot to laugh.”
“Yeah, and you forgot to throw it away, too,” Bess said.
“I was saving it,” Ned said. “I was going to put it on his plate for dinner on Friday night.”
All of a sudden Bess started bouncing up and down. “George!” she said. “What are you waiting for? Open your backpack and see if my locket is still there!”
“Oh, sorry,” George said. She unzipped the side compartment and looked inside. Bess’s locket was curled in the bottom, right where George had put it. She took it out and handed it to Bess.
Bess closed her hands tightly around the locket and held it to her heart. “Thank you, Nancy—and George. You two are the best.”
“It was nothing,” Nancy said with a huge smile.
“Nancy did it all,” George said. Then she was quiet for a minute. “You know, Bess, I really am sorry. I should have held on to your locket when you asked me to. It was my fault that it got lost.”
“That’s okay,” Bess said. “I’m sorry I tore up your newspaper clipping, too. But I have another one at home. I’ve been saving it for you.”
“Thanks!” George said.
They gave each other a big hug.
“There’s only one thing I want from both of you,” Bess said.
“What?” Nancy and George asked.
“Pictures of each of you,” Bess said. “I want to put your pictures in my locket. Nancy on one side and George on the other.”
Nancy beamed at her two best friends. She was so happy. They were all friends again now, and that was all that mattered!
When she got home, Nancy took out her notebook. She opened it to the next blank page and wrote:
Today I solved another mystery— the Case of the Lost Locket. And I helped Bess get her locket back.
But the best thing about being a detective is that you can help people find things they lose—even if the thing they lose is a friend.
Case closed.
&
nbsp; This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
First Aladdin Paperbacks edition September 2001
First Minstrel Books edition September 1994
Copyright © 1994 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Produced by Mega-Books of New York, Inc.
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