The Fashion Disaster (6 page)

“The floor!” Nancy said. “Maybe that's what that sticky puddle in Lola's trailer was.”

“You mean that was Huey's drool?” Bess asked. She scrunched up her nose. “What else does it say about Eww-fies, I mean, Newfies?”

George read out loud: “Newfies' coats have long black hairs. They shed often, too.”

“I wonder if Huey left hairs in the trailer too,” Nancy said.

“Wonder no more!” exclaimed Bess.

“Huh?” George said.

Bess ran to her jacket. She pulled her Hairy Fairy Wand from her pocket.

“I used this right after we were in Lola's trailer, remember?” Bess said. “Huey's hairs could be on it.”

The Clue Crew examined the sticky white
tape on the Hairy Fairy. There were lots of light hairs—just like Lola's. There were also long, thick black hairs—just like Huey's!

“Maya and her parents have blond hair,” said Nancy. “So the black hairs must be Huey's!”

“Good work, Gizmo Girl!” George said.

“Thanks!” Bess said.

“Let's question our new suspect,” Nancy suggested. “Peter Patino.”

Nancy found Peter Patino's address in the River Heights Elementary School yearbook. It was three blocks away.

When the girls reached the Patino house,
they found Peter in his front yard. Huey was also in the yard. He was sitting in a plastic kiddie pool, covered with soapsuds!

“Peter's giving Huey a bath,” Bess whispered. “It's a good thing Newfies like water.”

Peter stopped scrubbing as the girls walked over.

“Hi, Peter,” Nancy said. “Hi, Huey.”

The girls stepped back as Huey panted.

His dog breath
was
pretty funky!

“Mayor Strong asked me to wash Huey,” said Peter. “It took four dog biscuits to get him into the bath.”

“What kind of dog biscuits?” Nancy asked. “Lick My Chops . . . or Bone Appetit?”

Peter froze with his hands on Huey's wet coat. “I don't remember,” he said. “Dog biscuits are dog biscuits.”

“Not to Lola,” George said. “Did Huey eat her fancy biscuits before the fashion show?”

“Nuh-uh,” Peter said, shaking his head.

Nancy didn't always like tricking suspects
into confessing. But sometimes it was the only thing to do. . . .

“First Huey ate the biscuits,” Nancy said. “Then he got muddy paw prints all over Lola's fancy dog bed. And after that, he ripped up some of Lola's clothes. Right?”

“Wrong!” Peter exclaimed. “All Huey did was eat those stinky dog biscuits—”

Peter clapped his wet hand over his mouth. A bubble floated out between his fingers.

“Tell us what happened, Peter,” said Nancy.

Peter uncovered his mouth. Then he took a long, deep breath.

“After I saw you on Saturday, Huey dragged me into Lola's trailer,” he said. “He's so strong that I couldn't hold him back—even when he started eating the biscuits from the basket!”

“
All
the biscuits?” Bess asked.

“To the last crumb!” Peter said. “I didn't know what to do, so I refilled the basket with my own dog biscuits. How was I supposed to know that Lola hated Lick My Chops?”

“Why didn't you tell someone?” George asked. “You saw how everyone blamed us.”

“I was in charge of Huey,” Peter said. “So when he goofed, I didn't want anyone to know. Especially since he's the mayor's dog. I'm sorry!”

“It wasn't your fault,” said Bess. “Dogs will be dogs.”

“You should tell Maya what you just told us, Peter,” Nancy said. “Then maybe she'll stop blaming us for switching the biscuits.”

“And start blaming me?” Peter said. “I don't think so!”

Huey barked. He jumped out of the pool and began shaking the water off his thick, wet coat. The girls and Peter screamed as they got showered.

“I think Huey is trying to tell you something,” Nancy said.

Peter brushed back his wet hair with his hand. “Okay,” he said. “Let's get this over with!”

Peter had seen Lola's trailer on River Street after school. When the kids reached River Street, it was still there.

“There's Maya!” Nancy said.

Maya and her mom were walking out of a pet photography studio. Maya held Lola's leash while her mom stopped to buy coffee from a cart.

“Maya!” called Nancy.

“Leave us alone,” Maya called back. She walked Lola into the trailer. Nancy, Bess, George, and Peter followed them inside.

“I said leave us alone!” Maya warned.

“It's okay, Maya,” Nancy said gently. “Peter Patino was at the park on Saturday. He has something to tell you.”

“What?” Maya asked.

“We-ell,” Peter started. He shuffled his feet. “It's sort of . . . like this . . . you see . . .”

George gave Peter a nudge with her elbow.

“Mayor Strong's dog, Huey, ate Lola's fancy dog biscuits,” Peter blurted out. “While I was walking him.”

“He did?” gasped Maya.

“I couldn't stop him,” Peter said. “I'm sorry.”

“Wow,” Maya said. She looked at Nancy, Bess, and George. “So you didn't switch the biscuits. The mayor's dog ate them?”

“Yes,” Nancy said.

Maya gave a little snort. “That sounds like something a dumb shelter dog would do. They're nothing but trouble.”

Nancy frowned. She was glad the Bow-Wow Brigade wasn't around to hear that!

“I guess I'm sorry for blaming you,” Maya
told the girls. “But you'd better go now. Lola has another photo shoot in exactly ten minutes.”

“I'm outta here!” Peter declared. In a flash he was out of the trailer.

“We'd better go too,” Nancy said.

Maya turned to Lola. She began brushing her coat with a silver-plated hairbrush.

The girls headed toward the door. Nancy glanced at Lola's puppy picture on the wall. It showed Maya holding a tiny white poodle in her arms. Nancy remembered seeing it when they were in the trailer before.

Cute
! she thought.

She was about to follow Bess and George when she noticed something else. In the picture was a crate—the cardboard kind used to bring puppies and kittens home for the first time. Nancy wondered if the writing on the crate was in French, since Maya said that Lola was from France. But the print was too small to read.

My spyglass!
Nancy remembered. She reached into her pocket and pulled it out.

“What are you doing, Nancy?” whispered Bess.

Nancy peered through the spyglass as she read the words silently to herself: “Valley View Pet Shelter. Next Stop: Home!”

“Bess, George!” Nancy gasped. “I think I just found out Maya's secret!”

Nancy held the spyglass as Bess and George looked through it. They read the words to themselves.

“Wow!” Bess said.

“No wonder Rusty knew Lola's secret,” George whispered. “He volunteered at the Valley View Shelter!”

“What are you doing?” Maya called.

The girls turned to Maya.

“Question,” Nancy said. “Is Lola a shelter dog?”

Maya froze with the hairbrush in her hand. Then she shook her head. “Shelter dog?” she scoffed. “Ha, ha, very funny.”

“Then what's a shelter crate doing in Lola's puppy picture?” Nancy asked.

Maya's eyes popped open wide. She glanced at the picture and shook her head.

“The puppy in the picture isn't Lola,” she said. “That's some Lola wannabe from the Valley View Shelter. We were giving her diva lessons and . . . and . . . and . . .”

Nancy folded her arms across her chest. Maya's voice cracked as she tried again.

“I needed a crate for an arts and crafts project,” Maya said quickly. “So I went to the Valley View Shelter and . . . and . . . and . . .”

Maya's eyes darted around the room. They finally landed on Nancy.

“Okay.” Maya sighed. “My parents adopted Lola as a puppy at the Valley View Shelter. So I guess that does make her a—”

Maya gulped hard. She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a squeak.

“Go ahead. Say it,” Nancy said gently.

“THAT MAKES HER A SHELTER DOG!” Maya blurted. “There! Are you happy now?”

Lola began licking Maya's face.

“Somebody seems to be,” Nancy giggled.

“But why was it such a big secret?” Bess asked.

“Yeah,” George said. “Adopting homeless dogs is a great thing.”

“It started when Lola got famous,” Maya
said. “I didn't think anyone would buy calendars and cards from a shelter dog. So I made up a fancy story to go with Lola's fancy life. I begged my parents to go along with it and they did.”

Tears filled Maya's eyes as she petted Lola.

“Lola may be a French poodle,” Maya sniffed. “But she's never even been to France. Not even to Paris, Texas!”

Maya buried her face in Lola's coat. She began to sob loudly.

“Don't cry, Maya,” Nancy said. “Lola's story is even better now!”

“It is?” asked Maya. Her voice sounded muffled through Lola's fur.

“Sure,” Nancy said. “Most people don't know you can adopt purebred dogs at shelters. Or puppies that can grow up to become superstars, just like Lola!”

Maya choked back the tears as she looked up.

“Don't you see, Maya?” Nancy went on excitedly. “Lola is just like Cinderella!”

“I get it!” George said. “It's like she went from wags . . . to riches!”

This time even Bess laughed at George's dog joke.

“Lola the Cinderella Dog!” Maya declared. She nodded her head. “I like it. I like it.”

“So do I,” Nancy told Bess and George. “Not only is Lola's secret out—but the Clue Crew solved another case!”

“It's just like a fairy tale!” Bess swooned.

Nancy, Bess, and George stood outside the Rollover Rescue Shelter. They gazed at Lola, dressed in a white lace doggy gown and silver tiara. She made the perfect Cinderella—and the perfect poster pup for Adopt-a-Shelter-Dog Day!