Butterfly Blues Page 3

  “What’s that for?” Bess asked. She pointed to a huge white tent set up in the middle of the field.

  “That’s where the wedding guests eat and dance,” George said.

  Nancy saw chairs lined up on both sides of a long white satin runner. Guests were taking their seats on both sides of the aisle. At the end of the aisle was a gazebo decorated with flowers.

  “That’s where the bride will walk down!” Nancy said. “But where are the butterflies?”

  Nancy, Bess, and George moved closer to the chairs. They looked up the aisle to see a small table set up next to the gazebo. On top of the table was a pretty white cage. Inside the cage were . . .

  “Butterflies!” Bess gasped.

  “One of them is blue!” George pointed out. “I can see it from here!”

  A boy walked over to the butterfly cage. He held a camera over it and snapped a picture.

  “I want to get a better look too!” George said.

  Just as the girls were about to walk toward the butterfly cage, the music grew louder. Nancy turned to see a parade of bridesmaids in pink dresses walking toward the aisle.

  “Not now, George,” Nancy said. “The wedding is starting!

  “Pretty!” Bess swooned as the bridesmaids filed down the white satin runway.

  “Pretty annoying!” George muttered. “Now we have to wait until the bride and groom free the butterflies!”

  Next came a flower girl tossing rose petals from a basket. She was followed by the bride, led down the aisle by a proudly smiling man. Nancy guessed it was her dad.

  Nancy, Bess, and George stood behind the chairs, watching the wedding. As the bride and groom read their vows, George whispered, “What’s taking them so long? ‘I do’ is just two little words—”

  “Shh!” Nancy hissed.

  The couple finally said “I do.” They walked over to the cage, then opened the door together. Everyone began to ooh and ahh as the butterflies flew out into the air.

  “There’s the blue one!” Nancy pointed out. “Bess, did you bring your butterfly net?”

  “One butterfly net,” Bess said, holding it up. “Check!”

  “Let’s get Morpho!” George declared.

  The Clue Crew kept their eyes on the blue butterfly. It swooped over the guests’ heads and into the big white tent. Nancy, Bess, and George raced inside too.

  “Where did he go?” Nancy asked.

  The girls looked around.

  Tables were set with snowy white tablecloths, delicate china, and crystal glasses. White-jacketed waiters carefully filled each glass with water.

  “There he is!” Bess said.

  Nancy and George looked to see where Bess was pointing. In the back of the tent stood a towering wedding cake decorated with pink icing swirls and sugar roses. The blue butterfly hovered over the cake. Then it delicately landed on top.

  “Come on!” George said.

  As Nancy, Bess, and George rushed toward the cake, a waiter shouted, “Hey, now! Where are you girls going?”

  The Clue Crew stopped in front of the wedding cake and the butterfly.

  Bess held up the butterfly net with both hands. Instead of bringing it down, she froze!

  “What are you waiting for?” George cried. “Bring down the net, Bess!”

  “But it’s a wedding cake!” Bess wailed, holding the net midair.

  “And it’s so beautiful!” Nancy agreed.

  “Give me that!” George demanded. “I’ll try to be careful!”

  George grabbed the net from Bess’s hands and held it over the cake. But before she could drop it . . .

  “Stop!” a woman’s voice shouted.

  The girls whipped around.

  Dorothy Danner the wedding planner was racing into the tent. Her high-heeled shoes clicked on the dance floor as she charged forward.

  “Don’t you dare!” Dorothy warned, waving her arms. “Don’t you dare touch that cake!”

  Pest Quest

  Nancy, Bess, and George watched sadly as the blue butterfly fluttered away and out of the tent.

  “Now we’ll never get him.” Nancy sighed.

  “A butterfly chase?” Dorothy asked. She pointed to the net in George’s hand. “That’s not what I had planned for this wedding!”

  “Unless it was a blue morpho butterfly?” George asked.

  “What are you talking about?” Dorothy demanded.

  “Did you go back to Flutter House yesterday, Ms. Danner?” Nancy asked. “For that butterfly you wanted?”

  “We were on the class trip yesterday,” Bess explained. “We saw how much you wanted the blue morpho.”

  “You think I stole the butterfly?” Dorothy asked. “I did nothing of the kind!”

  “So you didn’t go back?” Nancy asked carefully.

  “Absolutely not,” Dorothy huffed. “After I left Flutter House, I went straight to a meeting with my staff.”

  The waiters nodded their heads in agreement.

  “Then where did you get the blue butterfly?” Bess wanted to know.

  “I caught it myself,” Dorothy said.

  “With your net?” George asked.

  Dorothy shook her head.

  “I found the butterfly earlier today on the fruit platter,” Dorothy explained. “The pineapple chunks, to be exact.”

  Pineapples!

  “Josh said butterflies love fruit,” Nancy whispered to Bess and George. “They drink the juice.”

  “When I saw the butterfly, I grabbed a water glass,” Dorothy went on. “I quickly turned it upside down over the butterfly, and it was mine!”

  “Oh,” Nancy said. But was Dorothy telling the truth?

  “Now,” Dorothy said narrowing her eyes, “why don’t you girls be like pretty little butterflies—and take off?”

  Nancy, Bess, and George left the wedding tent. Once outside they began talking all at once.

  “I don’t know if I believe Dorothy!” Bess said.

  “Even if she did catch it,” George said, “that butterfly still could have been Morpho!”

  “I wish there was a way to find out,” Nancy said. Her eyes lit up when she saw the boy who took the picture of the butterflies in the cage.

  “Excuse me!” Nancy called. “Can we see the picture you took of the butterflies?”

  “How come?” the boy asked as he walked over.

  “Um . . . because butterflies are pretty!” Bess said.

  “That’s not why I took the picture,” the boy said. “I want to be a nature photographer when I grow up.”

  “Awesome,” George said. She nodded at the camera still in his hand. “But are you any good?”

  “Way good,” the boy said. “See for yourself.”

  He found the butterfly shot in his camera. As he showed it to the girls, he said, “I got a neat shot of the blue one.”

  The Clue Crew studied the picture of the blue butterfly. It was blue, like Morpho, but not totally.

  “This one has gold spots on its wings,” Nancy said.

  “Morpho never had gold spots.” Bess sighed.

  “Do you want to see my picture of a water bug?” the boy asked next. “I found it under the sink—”

  “No, thanks!” the girls said at the same time.

  The boy shrugged, then hurried toward the tent. As they walked away, Nancy said, “Morpho is still missing and we have no suspects.”

  “Maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow,” Bess said, forcing a smile.

  As the girls left the park to head home, they noticed a flier taped to a tree. It was for a kid magician named Presto Peter.

  “Hey—it’s Peter Patino!” Nancy said, pointing to the magician’s picture. Peter was wearing a magician’s cape and top hat.

  George leaned forward to read the flier: “Meet Presto Peter on Sunday at noon. Watch him perform his awesome butterfly trick.”

  “Butterfly?” Bess said. “Where did Peter get a butterfly?”

  Nancy thought back to the class trip and
how Peter ran onto the bus with a paper bag.

  “Bess, George,” Nancy said, “do you think Morpho was in the bag Peter was holding?”

  “He wouldn’t tell us what was inside,” George said.

  “Maybe because Morpho was in the bag!” Bess gasped.

  Nancy gave the flier another look. The word “butterfly” was written in big blue letters. Blue like Morpho!

  “What are we going to do, Nancy?” Bess asked.

  “We are going to see that butterfly tomorrow!” Nancy declared. “Before Presto Peter makes it disappear!”

  AbracaNABra!

  Nancy, Bess, and George knew where Peter lived, so on Sunday they headed straight to his house.

  Mr. Patino opened the front door and smiled.

  “I guess you’re here for the magic show,” Mr. Patino said. “It’s right downstairs in the basement.”

  The girls ran down the stairs. Down in the basement were more kids, some from school. Quincy, Marcy, Cassidy, and Kendra sat on folding chairs. They faced a table covered with a starry tablecloth.

  Nancy, Bess, and George sat in the last row, next to one another. They stretched their necks to study the things on the table.

  “A deck of cards, a rubber chicken, a book,” George said. “But where’s the butterfly?”

  “Where’s Peter?” Nancy wondered.

  Everyone jumped as a microphone screeched.

  Peter’s voice announced in a deep voice, “And now, the Patino Magic Lounge in majestic River Heights proudly presents . . . Presto Peter!”

  “Yay!” little Cassidy cheered.

  Peter stepped out from behind a large flat-screen TV. He was wearing his magician’s cape and top hat. He whipped his cape back with a flourish, bowed, then stood behind the table.

  “For my first trick I’ll need a volunteer,” Peter said with a big grin. “Can I please have a volunteer from the audience?”

  “What’s a volunteer?” Cassidy shouted.

  “A helper,” Marcy hissed to her little sister.

  “I’ll do it,” Quincy said, jumping up. He walked behind the table where Peter stood. “Okay, what do I have to do?”

  “Just answer my question,” Peter said. “Did you get your allowance today?”

  “Nope,” Quincy said.

  “Oh, yes, you did!” Peter declared. He reached his closed fist to Quincy’s ear. He then opened his hand to reveal a quarter. “Ta-daaa! Here it is!”

  “Neat,” Quincy said. “But my allowance is three dollars a week.”

  Peter frowned at Quincy. “You can sit down now,” he said.

  Quincy shrugged, pocketed the quarter, then returned to his seat. Peter turned back to the audience and said, “Do I have another volunteer for my next trick?”

  “Go ahead, Nancy!” Kendra said.

  “Yeah, Nancy,” Marcy urged.

  “Okay, okay,” Nancy said. She stood up and joined Presto Peter behind the table. “What should I do, Peter?”

  “There’s a page in this book I’d like you to read,” Peter said as he handed Nancy the book. “Open it right at the bookmark.”

  “Sure,” Nancy said.

  But when she opened the book to the marked page . . .

  Whoosh!

  Something blue fluttered out and into the air. It moved so fast it was a blur, but Nancy was sure it was one thing: a butterfly!

  “Bess, George!” Nancy cried. “Help me out!”

  “Hey!” Peter shouted as the girls jumped up and down under the butterfly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “We know what that is, Peter,” George said, stretching her arm up.

  “And we want it!” Bess said.

  “Well, you can’t have it,” Peter said.

  Peter took off his hat and used it to scoop up the butterfly. He then flipped the hat and the butterfly upside down on the table.

  “This trick is over!” Peter said as he pressed down hard on the hat. “Please return to your seats, ladies and gentlemen!”

  Nancy narrowed her eyes at Peter.

  “It’s not over,” Nancy said, “until you pick up that hat and show us the butterfly!”

  Fruity Factoid

  “We know you have a butterfly under that hat, Peter,” George said. “Let us see it.”

  “No!” Peter snapped.

  “What’s so special about a butterfly?” Quincy asked.

  “The blue morpho butterfly is missing from Flutter House,” Nancy explained.

  “I heard about that!” Kendra said.

  “Me too!” Marcy said as she stood up. “Maybe the missing butterfly is under Peter’s hat!”

  “Come on, Peter,” Quincy said. “Show us the butterfly already!”

  The kids began walking toward the table.

  “Stand back!” Peter shouted. “Presto Peter never reveals the secrets of his tricks!”

  “Wait a minute,” George said. She cupped her hand behind her ear as she leaned toward the table. “There’s a noise under the hat.”

  The room became quiet as everyone listened. Nancy listened too. What she heard was a muffled whirring noise.

  “Butterflies don’t make that sound,” Nancy said.

  “Nancy, George!” Bess called from the other side of the room. “I just found the bag Peter had on the bus!”

  “Great,” Peter muttered.

  Nancy, Bess, and George looked inside the bag. They thought it was empty until Nancy found a sales receipt. It was from the Flutter House gift shop.

  Nancy read the receipt aloud: “One wind-up butterfly, blue.”

  “Is that what’s under the hat, Peter?” Kendra said. “A toy butterfly?”

  “We thought it was the real deal!” Quincy complained.

  “Wellll,” Peter said with a shrug, “it looks real . . . doesn’t it?”

  Peter lifted the hat. Underneath was a blue plastic butterfly. It gave one last flutter before sputtering to a stop.

  “Show’s over.” Quincy sighed.

  The other kids left. Peter frowned as he was left alone with the Clue Crew.

  “I couldn’t tell you the butterfly was a fake!” Peter insisted. “What magician gives away his tricks?”

  “I know, Peter,” Nancy said. “We were just trying to find Morpho.”

  “How are you going to find a missing butterfly, anyway?” Peter scoffed.

  “What do you mean?” Nancy asked.

  “Butterflies can fly far away,” Peter answered. “Morpho can be anywhere by now!”

  Nancy didn’t want to think about that. All she wanted was to find Morpho!

  The Clue Crew said good-bye to Peter, then left the Patino house.

  “Peter might be right,” George said. “Morpho could have flown anywhere by now. Another town, another state—even another country!”

  “Do you think we should give up?” Bess asked softly.

  “No!” Nancy said, shaking her head. “As I said, the Clue Crew never gives up.”

  “Okay.” George sighed. “But I wish Peter really was a magician—so he could make Morpho magically appear!”

  The Clue Crew returned to Nancy’s house. After eating Hannah’s homemade soup for lunch, they hurried upstairs to their headquarters.

  “Now we really have no more suspects or clues,” Bess said. “What next?”

  “Maybe Flutter House posted something about Morpho,” George said. She opened the Flutter House website. There was no news about Morpho, but something else to see . . .

  “There’s our class picture from the trip on Friday!” Nancy said excitedly.

  The girls smiled when they saw the picture of Mrs. Ramirez’s class on the website. The caption read, “Third-Grade Flutter Fans.”

  “I don’t see me,” Bess said, studying the picture.

  “You’re hidden by Deirdre’s hat.” George laughed. “And those super-sized flowers!”

  “Flowers!” Bess gasped. “Remember how the butterflies swarmed around Deirdre’s hat?”

 
“So?” Nancy asked.

  “So maybe Morpho escaped on Deirdre’s hat,” Bess said.

  Nancy gave it a thought, then shook her head.

  “Carmen dusted Deirdre’s big flowered hat for butterflies,” Nancy explained. “I saw her myself.”

  George found a butterfly list on the website. She clicked on “blue morpho.” A picture of the blue morpho butterfly appeared. So did fun facts about the butterfly.

  “It says the blue morpho likes to drink the juice of rotten fruit and mud!” George said.

  “How can something so pretty be so gross?” Bess cried.

  “Rotten fruit is pretty gross,” George agreed. “Did you ever see how fast an apple core turns brown and mushy?”

  Rotten fruit . . . apple . . . brown and mushy?

  Nancy’s jaw dropped as she remembered the apple core in Deirdre’s bag. The one Antonio dropped inside!

  “Nancy, what’s up?” George asked.

  “You guys,” Nancy said slowly, “maybe Morpho didn’t escape on Deirdre’s hat. Maybe he escaped inside her bag!”

  Spy a Butterfly!

  “Hurry up!” Nancy called as the Clue Crew raced down the block. “We can’t miss Deirdre’s Mad Hatter Tea Party!”

  “I don’t get it, Nancy,” George called. “Even if Morpho was in Deirdre’s bag, wouldn’t he have flown out by now?”

  “Then he’s somewhere in the house!” Nancy called back.

  “We can’t search Deirdre’s whole house, Nancy!” Bess wailed. “We weren’t even invited to her party!”

  The Clue Crew reached the Shannon house, one of the biggest houses in River Heights. As they walked up the path, Nancy whispered, “I hear voices in the back.”

  Nancy, Bess, and George rounded the house to the backyard. Sitting around a picnic table were Deirdre and some girls from school. On the table were cookies, cupcakes, and a pretty pink-and-white teapot.

  All the guests wore hats. Deirdre wore her big flowered one. When she saw Nancy, Bess, and George, she frowned and said, “What are you doing here?”

  “Show us your bag, please, Deirdre,” Nancy said. “The one you brought to Flutter House on Friday.”

  “My bag—why?” Deirdre demanded.