Название: A Ghost In The Closet
Автор: Mabel Maney
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Spice
isbn: 9781472090713
isbn:
As people raced out of the room in search of the kidnapped canines, Midge grew red with anger. Somewhere out there, six small, frightened dogs were being held against their will, and all Mrs. Meeks cared about were her diamonds!
“Mrs. Meeks, did you happen to mention to anyone else that your Precious was wearing real diamonds in his collar?” Nancy inquired.
Mrs. Meeks flushed angrily. “Surely you don’t think I’m as naïve as that!” she snapped. “Why, no one but myself and that nice gentleman who helped me carry in Precious’ stall knows his collar is studded with genuine diamonds.”
“Mrs. Meeks, what did this man look like?” Nancy asked eagerly.
Mrs. Meeks sighed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t see how it could make any difference, but he was wearing a dark trenchcoat and carrying an umbrella.”
The girls gasped. Why, it sounded like the same rude fellow who had splashed them not ten minutes ago!
Nancy’s bright blue eyes glittered in excitement. Her keen mind was racing a mile a minute. Mrs. Meeks had given them a fine start to solving this dognapping!
A sly smile came over Nancy’s face. “Mrs. Meeks, I do so adore your lovely perfume,” she said in an admiring tone. “Would you be a dear and let me sample some?” The older woman, flattered by Nancy’s interest, sprayed her arm liberally with the heavy floral scent. “And the other arm, too,” Nancy urged. Mrs. Meeks complied, until Nancy smelled like a rose bush in bloom.
How odd, Cherry thought, for just that morning, Nancy had declared that she thought obvious fragrance on a girl gauche. Cherry had agreed, knowing that the clean smell of well-scrubbed skin was all the scent a young lady needed, unless it was a special dress-up occasion, of course.
Nancy gathered the girls around her. “Be on the lookout for the fellow in the trenchcoat,” she said in an urgent tone whilst she waved her arms about until the perfume was dry. “It’s our only lead. Let’s go!” After leaving Miss Pansy in the capable hands of the Veterinarian Nurse, they raced out of the room and fanned out through the civic center, searching for the suspect.
“Be careful,” Nancy warned them. “Dognappers are a particularly ruthless breed,” she said, her eyes narrowing in anger. “They care little that the stolen goods they’re transporting are living creatures. We must find those dogs soon, before any harm befalls them!”
A quick search of the four main exhibition halls proved fruitless. “Have you seen a man in a dark trenchcoat carrying six poodles and an umbrella?” they queried everyone they met, but to their utter dismay, no one remembered any such fellow.
“What’s that peculiar odor?” Cherry heard people cry when they smelled the aromatic sleuth. But Nancy didn’t seem at all concerned by the commotion she was causing as she pushed through the crowd, craning her neck in search of their suspect and waving her arms about.
“Nancy’s so brave,” Cherry thought, her bosom swelling with pride at the sight of the flailing detective.
A shrill yip suddenly caught their attention. “Was that a poodle, Midge?” Nancy asked her chum.
Midge shook her head and pointed toward a small cage being wheeled by an elderly gentleman. Inside was a tan and white chihuahua perched on a purple velvet pillow fringed by gay green pom-poms. “A poodle’s yap is higher and shriller,” Midge explained.
Just then a coon hound threw back his head and started to howl. Soon all the dogs in the room were barking and howling, whining and whoofing. Nancy led her chums back to the hallway, and once there, explained her scheme.
“I deliberately sprayed myself with Mrs. Meeks’ potent perfume hoping to gain the attention of her poodle Precious. Midge, didn’t you say earlier that a dog’s sense of smell is three hundred times stronger than that of a human’s? I was so hoping that Precious would recognize this odor and bark.”
Cherry gasped. Nancy’s keen logic never ceased to amaze her!
“But in that din, we’ll never recognize Precious’ bark,” Nancy continued. “I’m going back to the Poodle Room to search for clues. Midge, you search the Police Dog Room, Cherry, you check out the Saint Bernard Rescue Trials and Velma, search over there by the dancing terriers,” she directed.
But before the girls could split up, Midge spied a tall, thin man wearing a dark trenchcoat, not ten feet from her. He was pulling a large black trunk with one hand and had an umbrella tucked under the other arm.
“There he is!” Midge cried to her friends. “Hey, you! Stop!” she yelled, taking off after him. At the sight of the girl, the man’s face blanched in fright, and he took off down the long corridor; the heavy trunk rocked to and fro as he rudely pushed past people, striking some of them in the legs.
Cherry was thankful that she had had the foresight to include in her first-aid kit sterile bandages and germicidal ointment for the scraped shins of surprised spectators.
Midge leapt over an enormous Irish wolfhound in an effort to catch the suspect, who, despite his heavy burden, was slipping away. He would have disappeared around the next corner had he not become entangled in the leash of a miniature smooth-coated dachshund who had unwittingly blocked his path.
“Curses!” the man cried, dropping the black trunk as he struggled to free himself. Just as Midge was closing in on him, he glared at her with a fierce mocking gaze, opened his umbrella over his head and—poof! In the wink of an eye, the man disappeared in a cloud of pink smoke!
Cherry gaped at the spot where the man, just moments before, had stood. “Why, he’s gone!” she shrieked. “The trunk is moving!” Cherry then cried. The trunk was indeed bumping about on the slick tile floor, seemingly of its own volition!
Midge, her wits still intact, raced over to the trunk but found it locked. Using Velma’s nail file, she was soon able to break the lock and fling open the lid. Midge grinned with glee when six nervous poodles in various stages of disarray hopped out and covered her face with little wet kisses. The crowd gave a happy sigh of relief when they saw the missing pups. True, two poodles’ topknots had been tangled beyond ready repair, and Mrs. Meeks’ Precious would surely benefit from a good bath—and quick—but on the whole, the six missing dogs seemed to be in fine fettle.
“Frank Hardly’s saved the dogs!” the crowd cried. “Hip, hip hooray!”