Nancy couldn’t believe it. Alice had stuffed the raffle jar with a dozen entry slips! She had wanted to increase her chances of winning the Stella Sipowitz collar.
Nancy turned to Rex. “Didn’t you say on Friday that each customer got only one entry slip?” she asked him.
Rex nodded. “Absolutely! I was very clear about that.”
Nancy’s mind was racing. Alice must have wanted the Stella Sipowitz collar badly enough to break the rules.
Could she have wanted the collar badly enough to steal it? Nancy wondered.
“What’s going on, Pudding Pie?” Carson asked her curiously.
“I need to talk to Alice Cahill right away,” Nancy replied.
The two of them bid Rex goodbye and rushed back to Chez Meow. Alice was still there. She was wrapping up her interview with Meow and her owner.
“So what do you think is the best part of being a restaurant cat?” Alice asked Meow.
Meow purred loudly. Alice scribbled something in her notebook. “Uh-huh, I quite agree. Leftovers are a great thing! Well, that wraps up my interview.”
Nancy waited until Meow and her owner had gotten up from Alice’s table. Then she and Carson walked over to Alice.
Alice glanced up. “Oh, hello!”
“Excuse me, could I talk to you for a minute?” Nancy asked her.
“Uh-huh, sure,” Alice said. “But then I must rush off. I have an interview with the mayor’s pet parakeet in twenty minutes.”
Nancy pulled from her pocket the dozen entry slips from the Dashing Dog. She let them tumble onto the table.
Alice gasped. “What ... where did you . . .” Her eyes grew enormous.
“Rex Rumford said only one entry slip per customer,” Nancy said. “There are twelve entry slips here.”
“I . . . that is, well. . .” Alice fell silent.
Nancy stared at her and waited.
“Okay, I admit it,” Alice finally confessed. “I wanted to make sure my precious Pierre won the collar. He would have looked so handsome in it!”
Nancy frowned. “Did you steal the collar after I won it, Ms. Cahill?”
Alice shook her head. “Absolutely not! I draw the line at stealing.”
Nancy wasn’t sure whether or not to believe her. Alice seemed to be telling the truth, though.
Alice glanced around the restaurant. “I beg you, don’t tell anyone,” she whispered.
“I’m not making any promises,” Nancy said. “If it turns out that you did steal Chip’s collar . . . well . . .”
“I didn’t,” Alice insisted. “Dog’s honor! I did not steal that Stella Sipowitz collar!”
“So we’ve got four suspects now,” George said. “Petra, Mrs. Vanderpool, Lucas ...”
“... and Alice Cahill,” Bess finished.
As her friends talked, Nancy scribbled in her notebook. The three of them were sitting in Nancy’s living room. After leaving Chez Meow, Nancy had invited them to her house to go over the latest developments in the case.
The girls were sitting around the coffee table. They were drinking hot cider and munching on popcorn. Carson Drew was in his study, catching up on some work. Nancy could hear him typing away on his computer.
Chip was curled up on the floor, taking a nap. She made soft snoring noises, and her body twitched from time to time.
“Petra’s not such a strong suspect anymore,” Nancy said as she scribbled. “Her mom bought Prince Fabian his own Stella Sipowitz collar.”
“Yeah, but it’s not as nice as yours,” Bess pointed out.
Nancy nodded. “True.” She took a sip of her hot cider, then added, “We still haven’t talked to Mrs. Vanderpool. And as for Alice Cahill . . . she said she didn’t steal Chip’s collar. But she could have been lying.”
Chip opened one eye and thumped her tail. She made a whimpering sound.
“Don’t worry, Chip. We’ll get your collar back,” George reassured her.
Nancy reached into her pocket and pulled out a doggie biscuit. She handed it to Chip. Chip gobbled it down, then looked at Nancy expectantly.
“That’s all I have, girl,” Nancy told her. “Go back to sleep.”
Bess scarfed down a handful of popcorn. “Personally, I think it’s Lucas,” she said. “He was acting totally guilty when we visited his grandma’s house yesterday.”
Just then the phone rang. “I’ll get it, Dad!” Nancy called out.
She reached over to a side table and picked up the cordless extension. “Hello?”
“Nancy Drew?” The girl’s voice on the other end sounded really upset.
Nancy frowned. “Who is this?”
“You know who it is. It’s Petra Wylie.”
Nancy glanced at Bess and George. “Oh, hi, Petra,” she said. “What’s up?”
“What’s up? You know very well ’what’s up,’” Petra cried out. “Prince Fabian’s collar is gone. You stole it, Nancy Drew!”