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The Stolen Show (18) (Nancy Drew Diaries)
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About The Stolen Show
Product Description Nancy, Bess, and George race to catch an international jewel thief in this eighteenth book of the Nancy Drew Diaries, a fresh approach to the classic mystery series. Nancy is helping out her Dad’s friend, Louise Alain, and her dog, Marge, at an upcoming dog show in Montreal. Marge is a professional and needs someone she can trust to handle her at the biggest show of the season. Nancy is happy to oblige, especially since Louise invited Bess and George as well! Of course, the three friends are investigating a crime within hours of their arrival. One of the show dogs was drugged and a giant wad of gum was matted into its hair. Louise asks Nancy to investigate and gives her a useful tip: look at the dogs—their temperaments and styles are often a good window into the hearts and minds of their owners. But instead of solving a case of competitor sabotage, Nancy discovers jewel thieves have been using the dog show circuit as a smuggling operation. The thieves are not comfortable with the teenage sleuth who’s asking too many questions. And when they make some serious threats, Nancy, Bess, and George quickly find themselves in dangerous territory. Can Nancy discover the thieves’ identity and take home the trophy? Or is this one case where the bite is worse than the bark? About the Author Carolyn Keene is the author of the ever-popular Nancy Drew books. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. The Stolen Show CHAPTER ONE A Winter Wonderland FROM WHERE I SAT IN the front seat of the taxi, I was the first to get a full view of the banner that arched over the old cobblestoned street, reaching from one colorful building to another. In festive red letters, it read BIENVENUE AU CARNAVAL DE QUÉBEC! Up ahead, I could see crowds of people milling through the streets, swaddled in winter coats and hats, their hands filled with plates of food or steaming cups of hot drinks. A light dusting of snow was sprinkled over everything, giving the whole of Quebec City the look of a picturesque sculpture in a snow globe, just waiting to be shaken up. “Look at this place!” George exclaimed from the back seat, leaning between the front seats to get a look out the windshield. She pulled her smartphone out of the pocket of her practical red winter parka and began snapping photos of the scene. “You guys, we have to stop and grab something to eat from one of these shops before we head to the hotel. My kingdom for poutine.” “Poutine?” Bess asked. Bess and George are cousins. They’re both my best friends, and the three of us are virtually inseparable. Bess’s fair skin was still flushed from waiting outside in the cold for our taxi from the airport into town. She probably should have worn something a little warmer than her knitted beret and ivory peacoat, but Bess always was more fashionable than she was practical. She smoothed down her long blond hair, calming the flyaway strands thrown up by the wind. “What’s poutine?” “Only the most delicious thing in the world,” George answered, her dark brown eyes sparkling. “It’s french fries and cheddar cheese curds drenched in gravy.” “That sounds a little . . . ,” Bess began delicately, “heavy.” “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” George countered. “Have I ever steered you wrong?” Bess’s eyebrow quirked. “Ahem—haggis!” she said, pretending to cough. “What? Haggis is good!” George spluttered. “If you like spicy oatmeal made of meat,” I muttered with a smirk. George smacked her hand against her chest in mock dismay. “Et tu, Nancy?” “Don’t worry,” I said with a laugh. “I’ll try the poutine. We both will—isn’t that right, Bess?” “Oh, all right,” Bess said. “But right now, I’d much rather have a hot cocoa. How long before you’re supposed to meet Louise at the hotel, Nancy?” I checked my watch. It was only a quarter past ten, and I wasn’t expected at Château Frontenac until eleven. “We’ve got plenty of time. Why don’t we get out here and walk? We don’t have a l
