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    The Chocolate-Covered Contest

    Page 5
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      entertainment for the families of his employees.

      “The current president of the company, Robert

      Castle the third, has continued in his grandfather's

      footsteps. Royal Chocolates remains active in

      community activities. We award scholarships and

      administer educational programs throughout the

      country.”

      Nancy heard footsteps behind her and turned to see

      a man striding toward them.

      “Joyce,” he said, his voice stern and clipped.

      Joyce stopped talking midsentence. “Mr. Tumey.

      John Tumey didn't seem to notice the Science

      Sleuths or the fact that Joyce was in the middle of

      something.

      “We've got a crisis upstairs,” he said. “I've been

      paging you for twenty minutes.”

      “I'm sorry,” Joyce said. “I left my beeper in my

      office.”

      “Just where it belongs,” John Tumey said sar-

      castically. “Where you belong, I might add.”

      Joyce took a deep breath. “I'll be back to work as

      soon as I'm finished here,” she said firmly, swallowing

      the nervousness in her voice. “This is a public relations

      matter, and I did clear it with Mr. Castle.”

      “Yes,” John said. “Imagine my surprise when he told

      me I'd find you here. I took the liberty of scheduling a

      conference call for you at ten-thirty with Toni Conte.

      Be there.”

      John stalked out before Joyce could reply.

      Nancy noticed Joyce's flushed cheeks as she

      apologized to the Sleuths for the interruption.

      “Now, where was I?”

      “You were telling us how the air gets knocked out of

      the chocolates,” Noah volunteered.

      Joyce gestured toward the conveyor belt. “Yes. You

      can see the bumpy ride that's in store for the molded

      chocolate bars.”

      She showed the Sleuths how the candies bounced

      down the length of the room before disappearing into a

      metal tunnel.

      “At this point, the chocolate is a hot liquid. It can

      reach temperatures of a hundred and fifty degrees

      Fahrenheit or more. How do you think we make it turn

      solid?”

      “You cool it,” several Sleuths answered. *

      “Excellent,” Joyce said. “You're exactly right.” She

      patted the metal tubing. “This is called the cooling

      tunnel. It's where the chocolate solidifies, before it

      reaches the inspectors. As you can probably guess, it's

      the inspectors' job to remove any bars which haven't

      molded perfectly.”

      Laura's hand waved in the air. “What do they do

      with those?”

      “They can eat them. Or take them home to friends

      and family.” Joyce smiled. “Sounds great, right? But

      most inspectors learn to control their appetites pretty

      quickly. Believe it or not, it's easy to get sick of

      chocolate.”

      “I can't believe it,” Bess said to Nancy and George.

      “These workers are making Jelly Rogers.” Joyce

      gestured toward the production line as they passed.

      “It's a new candy that will be sold on a trial basis in

      three cities before the end of the year. How would you

      like to do a taste test?”

      There was an enthusiastic chorus of yeses from the

      Sleuths and Bess.

      “What are these?” Nancy asked as she and Andrea

      helped pass out the candies.

      “Raspberry jellies covered with dark chocolate,”

      Joyce said. “They're delicious. Not that I'm biased or

      anything.”

      Joyce asked the Sleuths to rate the candy on a scale

      of one to ten in terms of flavor, texture, and overall

      appeal.

      “Chocolate and fruit.” Kenny made a face. “Zero.”

      “Hey. Let's not be rude. You know what Andrea

      would say,” Bess chided him.

      Surprised by Andrea's silence on the subject, Nancy

      turned to look for her. She was stunned to see Andrea

      seated on a bench, her face red, her breathing labored.

      Nancy ran to her side. “Andrea. What's wrong?”

      “I. . .” Andrea grasped Nancy's hand. “Help me!”

      7. Paying Peanuts

      “What is it? What can I do?” Nancy checked Andrea's

      pulse, which was rapid and weak.

      Andrea lowered her head as though she were dizzy.

      “Allergic reaction,” she managed to say.

      Nancy knew Andrea carried medication in the

      Sleuths' first aid kit in case she had a life-threatening

      reaction. She pulled out the bag and dug through it

      until she found the syringe.

      George glanced over at Nancy and saw what was

      happening. “Okay, everyone. Let's go to the gift shop,”

      she said to the Sleuths abruptly.

      “But—” Kenny protested.

      “Let's go,” George repeated. She shepherded the

      group out of the room as Joyce and Bess hurried over

      to help Nancy with Andrea.

      With her hand shaking, Andrea plunged the needle

      into her arm.

      “What's wrong?” Joyce asked.

      Nancy shook her head. “She's having an allergic

      reaction of some sort. I don't know. Please call nine-

      one-one.”

      Joyce nodded, already moving toward the door. “We

      have a nurse here. I'll go get her.”

      Nancy and Bess tried to make Andrea comfortable

      as they waited for help. Her breathing had improved

      following the injection.

      “The peanut butter,” Andrea whispered.

      “Don't try to talk,” Nancy said.

      Andrea nodded and closed her eyes.

      “Peanut butter?” Bess turned to Nancy. “I know

      Andrea's allergic to peanuts, but there's no peanut

      butter in Jelly Rogers.”

      “And that's what she was eating right before she got

      sick.” Nancy spotted the torn Jelly Rogers wrapper on

      the bench next to Andrea. Two candies were packaged

      together, but only one remained in the wrapper. “We'll

      give this to the paramedics.” Nancy began wrapping

      the uneaten chocolate. “They can have it analyzed at

      the hospital lab.”

      Bess cast an expert glance at the candy in Nancy's

      hands. “There's no need,” she said. “That's not a Jelly

      Roger. It looks almost the same, but do you see the

      crimped edges? It's a Kings Cup.”

      Bess took the chocolate from Nancy and broke it

      open to prove her point. It was filled with crumbly

      peanut butter.

      Nancy raised her head when she heard Joyce

      running toward them with a young woman in uniform.

      “The paramedics are on the way. Is she okay?”

      “I think so.” Nancy stepped away to give the nurse

      room to examine Andrea. The paramedics arrived

      within a few minutes and administered oxygen as they

      prepared to transport Andrea to the hospital.

      “She's going to be fine,” the nurse assured Joyce.

      “They'll probably keep her overnight for observation,

      but there should be no lasting effects.”

      Joyce gave a sigh of relief. “At last, some good

      news.” Then she noticed the candy Bess was holding.

      “Where did you ge
    t that?”

      “This was wrapped in the Jelly Roger package

      Andrea was given,” Nancy explained. “Apparently, she

      got a Kings Cup by accident.”

      Joyce's hand went to her mouth. “Are you saying the

      wrapper was mislabeled?”

      “Yes,” Bess said. “And Andrea's allergic to peanuts,

      so . . .”

      “So,” Joyce finished, “we're lucky this turned out as

      well as it did. Not only for Andrea. Life-threatening

      allergies to peanuts aren't uncommon. If these candies

      had gone out to stores this way, people might have died

      because of our mistake.” She took the Kings Cup from

      Bess. “I'll have to tell the workers to stop production,

      and then pull all the batches that have already been

      packaged. That's the only way to make sure no one else

      gets sick.”

      Joyce left to find the factory supervisor as the

      paramedics bundled Andrea onto the gurney to wheel

      her out.

      Nancy and Bess found George in the gift shop,

      waiting for the Sleuths to move through the line with

      their chocolate purchases.

      “Is Andrea okay?” George asked as soon as she

      caught sight of her friends.

      “The paramedics took her to the hospital,” Nancy

      said. “They think she'll be fine.”

      “That's a relief. What happened?” George wanted to

      know.

      Bess explained about the Kings Cup mix-up.

      “Mix-up?” George asked. “Or deliberate attempt to

      hurt Andrea?”

      “But who could benefit from having Andrea out of

      the way?” Nancy asked. “I'll admit, the thought did

      cross my mind, but who knew about Andrea's allergy

      besides us? Diana, I guess. I don't see how she could

      have been involved in switching Andreas candy sample.

      And, as I said, why would she want to hurt Andrea?”

      “She might want to get me out of the way,” Bess

      noted. “But not Andrea.”

      Nancy shook her head. “Actually, she doesn't know

      about your wrapper. And Royal is doing a thorough

      investigation of her right now. If she cheated, she's out

      of luck regardless of whether someone else comes

      forward to claim the prize.”

      “So you're saying what happened to Andrea was a

      coincidence,” George said. “An accident.”

      “No.” Nancy glanced toward the Sleuths. “Since we

      got here yesterday, we've had two unfortunate

      accidents and one piece of incredibly good luck. I don't

      think any of it could be called coincidence.”

      Nancy went on to explain about what she had

      discovered in the computer lab about someone

      searching for information about their group.

      Bess tapped her foot. “I don't get it. Who would do

      that? Why?”

      Nancy shrugged. “Aside from the instant-win

      wrapper, we're just an ordinary group visiting Kings

      Commons. And no one knows about the instant-win

      wrapper, so I'm totally baffled, too,” Nancy admitted.

      “Totally baffled?” Joyce came up behind them and

      put a hand on Nancy's shoulder. “That's great. Me,

      too.”

      “Did you get the factory to pull the Kings Cups?”

      Nancy asked.

      “Yes,” Joyce said, “but now we've got a new sit-

      uation. I'm glad I tracked you down. I have to get back

      to my office, but I wanted to let you know. The Royal

      lab finished the chemical analysis of Bess's wrapper. It

      showed traces of rubber cement, which did not come

      from the Royal Chocolates factory.”

      “I don't understand,” Bess said. “What does rubber

      cement have to do with anything?”

      “I don't understand, either,” Joyce replied. “I was

      hoping you might be able to give us some idea as to

      how it came to be found there and why.”

      “Uh—n-no,” Bess stammered. “I guess we could ask

      Andrea about it. Once she's feeling better.”

      “There's another problem, too. I had scheduled

      Andrea for a meeting with Mr. Castle this morning

      about an educational grant. She's obviously not going

      to be able to make it. Mr. Castle is booked solid the

      rest of the week, so we can't postpone. What do you

      want me to do?”

      Nancy thought for a moment. “I hope Andrea won't

      mind, but would it be okay if I met with Mr. Castle?”

      Joyce brightened. “That's a great idea. Mr. Castle

      was only told he'd be meeting with a representative

      from the Science Sleuths. So why not you.”

      Joyce told Nancy to report to the fifth floor at

      eleven-fifteen and to wait for her in the reception area.

      “I've got to run,” she said. “I'll see you there.”

      Bess turned to Nancy as Joyce hurried off. “Okay,

      Nan. What's going on here? Rubber cement?”

      “It's all very strange,” Nancy agreed, “and it keeps

      getting stranger.” She unzipped her purse. “I'm glad I

      stashed away this Crown Jewels bar for an emergency.

      I knew I shouldn't have skipped breakfast.” She began

      to tear the wrapper, then stopped suddenly.

      “What's the matter, Nan?” George asked.

      “Do you see anything unusual here?” Nancy held up

      the wrapper.

      George looked at Nancy. “Do you mean besides the

      fact that you're eating chocolate for breakfast?”

      “This is the Crown Jewels bar Andrea gave me

      yesterday,” Nancy said. “The one she bought in River

      Heights along with Bess's.”

      “Wait a minute,” Bess said. “That wrapper doesn't

      say anything about an instant win contest.”

      “Exactly,” Nancy said. “We know they're not selling

      the instant-win bars at Kings Commons. Therefore, we

      know your winning bar came from outside the park,

      Bess. The others—or at least this one—clearly came

      from somewhere else. Probably one of the vendors

      right here.”

      “I don't understand.” Bess sank into a chair. “Why

      would Andrea lie to us?”

      8. Making Waves

      Before Nancy could answer, the Sleuths took off. They

      raced out of the gift shop with their bags of Royal

      merchandise.

      “We're not going to hang out here all day, are we?”

      Kenny asked. “I want to go on some rides.”

      “We will,” Bess promised.

      “I thought we were going to the water park,” Emma

      said.

      “We are,” Bess assured her.

      “I'm hungry,” Noah complained.

      “I know, I know, I know. We'll get a snack first, then

      go to the water park, then on to the rides.” Bess ticked

      off the agenda on her fingers. “Any complaints? Wait!

      On second thought, don't answer that question.”

      Nancy grinned at George. “I think you guys have

      everything under control. I hope you don't mind if I

      duck out, but I've got to take care of a few things

      before I see Mr. Castle.”

      George waved her hand. “No problem. We should

      be fine until the water park. At which point we'll need

      you desperately.”

      Nancy nodded. “
    I'll meet you there.”

      Nancy went back to the motel room. First things

      first, she told herself inside her room. She picked up

      the phone and called the hospital to check on Andrea.

      Andrea's condition was good, the nurse reported,

      and she should be released in the morning. However,

      she was asleep and could not speak with Nancy right

      then.

      Nancy sighed. Now might not be the time to bring

      up the rubber cement, but she had really hoped to

      discuss the Science Sleuths program with Andrea

      before she met with Mr. Castle. Nancy looked down at

      her sweatshirt and faded jeans—she needed to change

      into something more presentable. She raided Bess's

      side of the closet for a navy blazer. It was a little large,

      but it would have to do.

      Next she put on a clean pair of khakis and finally dug

      around in her suitcase for the brochures Andrea had

      given her about the Science Sleuths. After reviewing

      them, she felt better prepared for her meeting with

      Mr. Castle. If he asked any tough questions, she'd have

      to get the answers from Andrea later, she told herself.

      Joyce buzzed Nancy into the building and was

      waiting for her in the fifth floor reception area at

      eleven-fifteen on the dot.

      “I'll take you in and introduce you to Mr. Castle,”

      Joyce said. “But first, let me offer a word of advice. As

      you might imagine, the whole instant-win disaster is a

      very touchy subject with Mr. Castle. He doesn't know

      you have any connection to Bess, and you'll probably

      want to keep it that way.”

      “That makes sense,” Nancy agreed. “Thanks for the

      tip.”

      Joyce knocked timidly on the door before ushering

      Nancy into an enormous suite at the end of the hall.

      Joyce cleared her throat. “Mr. Castle,” she said

      softly, “this is Nancy Drew of the Science Sleuths in

      River Heights. She's here to speak with you about

      applying for an educational grant.”

      Mr. Castle rose and shook Nancy's hand. He was at

      least six feet four, Nancy guessed. She had to crane her

      neck to meet his gaze. He wore an expensive-looking

      suit, and his sideburns were tinged with gray. “Pleased

      to meet you, Ms. Drew,” he greeted her.

      “Likewise,” Nancy said, taking the seat he offered

      her. “Please, call me Nancy.”

      “Good luck,” Joyce mouthed to Nancy as she pulled

      the door closed behind her.

     


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