Creamed!

“Are you sure they were carnival tattoos? ” Bess asked Nancy the next day.

Nancy nodded. It was late Wednesday morning. Mr. Fayne had just dropped the girls off at the carnival.

“But we’d know if the boys were at the carnival, ” George told Nancy. “They’re always annoying us.”

“That’s what makes it so strange, ” Nancy said.

The girls waited to get their carnival passbooks stamped. But this time Nancy was not so excited.

“It’s Wednesday, ” Nancy said. “And we haven’t come close to solving this case.”

“And we still haven’t bought pies from Simon the Pieman! ” Bess complained.

They were getting their passbooks stamped when Nancy saw their classmates Molly Angelo and Amara Shane. They were on their way out.

“Are you coming back later? ” Nancy asked.

“No way! ” Amara answered. She held up her hands. “The handles in the Big Squirt game were covered with molasses! ”

“Our hands are still sticky, ” Molly added. “And we washed them three times! ”

Nancy waved goodbye to Amara and Molly. Then she turned to Bess and George.

“Molasses on the handles, ” Nancy said. “Sounds like more trouble.”

At that moment Shirley Vega walked by with Lou Fowler. He was carrying Henrietta.

“What do you mean Henrietta won’t play the piano today? ” Shirley was asking.

“I told you, Shirley, ” Lou said. “Henrietta’s gold star is missing. Someone must have snatched it right off her tent.”

“So what? ” Shirley said. “Why can’t she play? ”

“Because that was her lucky star! ” Lou wailed. “And Henrietta can’t play without her lucky star! ”

“Buuuck! ” Henrietta clucked.

“Did you hear that? ” Nancy whispered. “Someone stole Henrietta’s star.”

“More trouble! ” Bess groaned.

Nancy pulled out her notebook. She made a list of all the things the carnival creep had used to make trouble: eggs, a black marker, horseflies, and molasses.

“Speaking of trouble, ” George muttered, “here comes Brenda.”

“Did you hear about the sticky handles? ” Brenda called as she ran over. “And Henrietta’s gold star? ”

“We heard.” Nancy sighed.

“Am I lucky or what? ” Brenda cried. “Now I have enough stuff to start writing my article! ”

“Not fair, Brenda, ” Nancy said. “I still have today to solve the case.”

“Calm down, ” Brenda said. “I said I’d start writing the article. I didn’t say I’d deliver the papers yet.”

Nancy breathed a small sigh of relief. As long as Brenda didn’t deliver the paper to Isabelle, they were safe.

“Can we please get some mini-pies? ” Bess asked. “I can smell them from here.”

Nancy glanced over at Simon the Pieman’s booth. She saw a bunch of people waiting on line. One of them was Chloe “Cruncher” Mondesky.

Nancy watched as Cruncher stepped up to the counter. She was wearing a big red backpack, and it was wide open.

“I’m going to peek in Cruncher’s backpack, ” Nancy told Bess and George. “I want to see if she has molasses or a lucky star.”

“Cruncher is one of your suspects? ” Brenda asked in an excited whisper. “Let me look in her backpack.”

“Why you? ” Nancy asked.

“Because that will make me an investigative reporter, ” Brenda declared. “Sort of like a reporter and a detective.”

“No, Brenda, ” Nancy said. “Don’t —”

Nancy’s plea came too late. Brenda was already sneaking up behind Cruncher.

Brenda leaned forward. Then she reached into Cruncher’s backpack.

“Hey! ” Cruncher spun around. The mini-pie she had just bought flew out of her hand. It landed with a splat in Brenda’s surprised face.

Nancy couldn’t keep from giggling. Brenda had pumpkin mush dripping from her nose and her chin.

“Nuts! ” Cruncher grumbled. “I was going to eat that.”

“Pa-tooey! ” Brenda sputtered as she wiped cream off her mouth.

“I hope you like Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Pie, ” George said as she, Bess, and Nancy ran over.

Brenda wiped cream from her eyes. Then she glared at Nancy.

“That does it, ” Brenda said. “I’m going home to write my article — once and for all! ”

“Oh no, you don’t, ” Cruncher said. “First you’re going to tell me what you were doing in my backpack.”

“Ask Nancy, ” Brenda snapped as she huffed off. “She’ll tell you.”

Cruncher folded her arms. “Which one of you is Nancy? ” she asked.

“Um, ” George gulped.

“Er, ” Bess squeaked.

Nancy looked up at Cruncher. She was big for an eight-year-old.

“I’m Nancy, ” Nancy said bravely.

“Well? ” Cruncher said. “Why was that girl going through my backpack? ”

Nancy had no choice. She had to get right to the point.

“I’m a detective, ” Nancy explained. “There’s been trouble at the carnival. And some of the clues lead to …you.”

“Me? ” Cruncher snapped.

“You were mad at the carnival for using coconut cream pies, ” George said. “Mad enough to make trouble.”

Nancy expected Cruncher to explode. Instead she smiled and shrugged.

“I was mad at the carnival, ” Cruncher said. “But not anymore.”

“Why not? ” Nancy asked.

Cruncher opened her jacket to show the blue ribbon pinned to her T-shirt.

“Because I’m the new chocolate pudding eating champ! ” she declared. “I won the contest yesterday! ”

Nancy stared at the ribbon. It was the same blue ribbon she had seen on Cruncher the day before.

“But you still could have put eggs in the potato sacks sometime before the contest, ” Nancy pointed out.

“How could I? ” Cruncher asked. “The pudding eating contest was the same time as the potato sack race yesterday.”

To prove it, Cruncher took out the carnival schedule.

Nancy looked at Tuesday’s schedule. Cruncher was right. The two contests were at the same time. But that didn’t answer all of Nancy’s questions.

She pulled the candy wrappers out from her detective notebook.

“Then how do you explain these? ” Nancy asked Cruncher.