1 DETHRONED
Did you miss me?" Ned asked with a grin as he helped me out of my hybrid car. It was a bright sunny day, and I was meeting him at the River Heights University student center after having lunch with him just hours before.
"Oh, terribly," I replied with a smile. "So tell me about this classmate of yours who needs my help."
"Right," said Ned, taking my hand as we walked through the parking lot to the food court entrance. "Her name is Portia Leoni, and she's in my psych class. After our lecture today, she asked to see my notes, and we got to talking. It turns out she's really struggling to pay tuition, because of something that happened to her a few months ago."
I nodded as Ned opened the door for me and we stepped inside. "Something that sounds kind of fishy, you said."
"More than fishy," Ned countered as we walked into the seating area. "It sounded like Portia could use the services of the one, the only..."
Suddenly a pretty, petite brunette stood up from her table and started waving at us. "Are you her?" she called to me as we started over. "Are you Nancy Drew?"
I smiled. I do a lot of snooping around, sure, but I didn't know I was famous at the university. "I sure am."
The girl's face erupted into the hugest, whitest smile I'd ever seen. "I'm Portia," she said. "Oh my God, Nancy, I'm so glad you came. When Ned told me he had a friend who investigates things...I was, like, 'This could be it,' you know? You could be the answer to all my problems!"
I glanced over at Ned: What had he told this girl? Still, it was pretty flattering.
"Um," Ned interrupted as I sat down at the table. "You two get started, but can I get anyone anything? Personally, I could use a cappuccino."
"Oooh, me too," I said.
Portia bit her lip. "Oooh, Neddie, that's so nice of you. But those have, like, four hundred calories. Can you just get me a Diet Coke?" she asked, reaching over to touch his arm.
Ned quickly backed away. "No problem. Two cappuccinos, one Diet Coke." As he walked over to the coffee stand, I realized what Portia had said: a friend who investigates things? I was sure Ned would have mentioned my being his girlfriend. He's about the most solid, stand-up guy you could imagine.
"Anyway," Portia was saying, turning back to me. She had gorgeous dark eyes, done up in a kaleidoscope of eye shadow, that seemed to latch on to mine when she spoke. "I'm sure Ned told you I lost my scholarship."
"He said you were having trouble paying for tuition," I replied.
"Right. Well, the reason for that is I lost my scholarship. And the reason for that is..." She paused, looking almost disappointed. "Do you not recognize me at all? Really?"
I shook my head.
"Well." Portia sat up straight and sighed a little. "The fact is, I was involved in a local scandal. You've heard of the Miss Pretty Face pageant?"
I shook my head again, but Portia still looked confused. "I don't really follow pageants," I clarified.
Portia took a good look at me, then pursed her lips and nodded, like it made sense. I wasn't sure whether to feel insulted or not.
"Well," she said, "I won it. I was Miss Pretty Face last year."
"Oh." Right then, Ned came back with our cappuccinos and Portia's Diet Coke. I dove into mine, getting whipped cream on the tip of my nose. Ned laughed and flicked it off with a napkin. Portia didn't look amused.
"So you lost your scholarship when your reign ended?" I asked, trying to get back on track.
"No." Portia leaned over so her eyes bore right into mine. "I was relieved of my reign. I was dethroned. And I lost all my winnings, including the scholarship."
"Wow," I breathed, glancing over at Ned. "That's terrible. But why were you -- "
"I was set up," Portia broke in before I could finish. "I was dethroned for shoplifting. But I was set up!" She smiled a little rueful smile. "I've never shoplifted in my life."
"So how -- ," I began.
"I got a call one morning to go to Fleur," she interrupted again. "You've heard of it?"
I shook my head. I had a feeling if I spoke up again, she'd only cut me off.
"It's a boutique," Portia explained, a little too slowly. "They sell very upscale clothing. Anyway, I was told to go and pick up three dresses for a series of appearances. That kind of thing happens all the time with pageant winners, or any sort of famous people....Stores or designers will loan you clothes to wear, in exchange for free publicity. You mention the store or designer at the event."
I nodded. "Okay. So you went to pick up the dresses, and didn't pay for them?"
Portia nodded furiously. "Which is normal. It's totally normal in the pageant world. But that night, the police showed up at my house. The police."
I nodded. I was pretty friendly with the River Heights police, and it was hard for me to imagine them being scary or intimidating. But I could see why it had upset Portia.
"They arrested me," she continued. "For shoplifting. And when I got down to the station, they showed me this tape -- from Fleur's security cameras. It showed me leaving with the dresses, without paying. And suddenly the shop owner was saying she knew nothing about the whole thing!"
"Maybe she didn't," I suggested. "You said you got a phone call. Maybe she really didn't know anything about the dress pickup."
"But she did," Portia insisted, playing with the straw in her soda. "Nancy, I talked to her while I was there. I asked her where the dresses were. And she said, 'Right there on the counter.' She knew what I was talking about."
"Hmmm." I frowned, trying to puzzle this out. Portia took a quick sip of her drink and then beamed at Ned, reaching over to touch his arm again.
"Neddie was so thoughtful and understanding when I told him about this," she said. "He always makes the most insightful comments in class. He's very sensitive."
Ned blushed and cleared his throat, shooting me a look that said, I wish she'd stop too.
"Right," I said shortly. "Okay, Portia, I..."
What? What was I going to tell her? Her story was interesting, but did I believe it? I try not to judge the people I work for, but I also try not to work for criminals. Portia seemed to be telling the truth, but she could also be a good liar. Was she somebody I'd want to put my reputation behind?
Ned was giving me a thoughtful look. "It's really the scholarship money that's important," he explained. "I mean, the dethroning, that's embarrassing, right?" He glanced at Portia, who nodded. "But losing the scholarship means Portia might have to drop out of school."
For the first time, Portia looked truly upset. "He's right," she told me softly. "I'm working two jobs right now and still can't keep up with the payments. This isn't just some silly pageant, Nancy: It's my whole future."
All right. I'm not made of stone. True, I got a funny vibe off Portia, but really, how much of that was coming from her flirting with Ned? Besides, just because someone annoys you doesn't mean they can't be a crime victim.
"Okay," I said, plopping my empty cappuccino cup down on the table. "I'll stop by Fleur tomorrow, Portia, and do a little snooping. If something seems off, I'll keep investigating. But if they appear to be telling the truth -- "
But Portia didn't hear that part. She'd already leaped up from the table and thrown her arms around Ned. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she cried. "Neddie, you're the best!"
Ned gave Portia a quick hug and then nudged her away. "Thanks, Nancy," he said with a smile, reaching over and wiping yet more whipped cream off my nose (how did that get there?). "You're the best."
I couldn't help smiling back.
"Is it my birthday?" my friend Bess asked, fluffing her hair in the rearview mirror as she slid into the passenger seat of my car. "Do you owe me a favor? Or is it just my lucky day?"
I smiled as I pulled the car back into the street. "Bess, what are you talking about?"
"How many times does Nancy Drew call me up and say she wants to go shopping? I'll tell you how many times: never."
"Bess, come on." But I couldn't help smiling a little: Bess was right. She was always decked out in the latest fashions; I was happy if my pants matched my shirt. When Bess talked to me about clothes, she usually had to stop and explain what a "bubble skirt" or an "empire waist" was.
"Let me guess," Bess went on, pausing to turn to me with a mischievous grin that showed her dimples. "You don't really want to go shopping. I'm betting you have an ulterior motive -- a little snooping to do? Some questions to ask?"
I shook my head and pretended to sigh. "Oh, Bess, you know me too well."
"I was surprised you even knew what Fleur was."
I nodded. "Have you shopped there before?"
"Actually I just heard about it." Bess reached into her purse and pulled out a fashion magazine. "Pose magazine says it has the best espadrilles for summer. But I never heard a word about it before -- you know, before the big scandal."
My mouth dropped open. "You know about the scandal?"
"With Miss Pretty Face and the shoplifting? Sure. Nancy, where have you been?"
I shrugged. I was beginning to wonder how I'd missed out on the River Heights scandal of the year myself. "I guess...snooping?"
Bess laughed. "I guess. Seriously, you should make more time to watch the local news. Or at least Extra." She pointed to a small, neatly landscaped mini-mall on the right. "I think it's in here, way in the back."
I pulled in and we drove around for a while before I realized what Bess meant: way in the back, hidden on the other side of the building. Finally, I parked in front of Fleur, a handsome store with two big display windows filled with mannequins in sparkling cocktail dresses.
"So what are you investigating now?" Bess asked, shoving the magazine back into her purse. "A shoplifting ring? A cr...
