Nancy Clue Mysteries 1 - The Case of the Not-So-Nice Nurse (13 page)

There was applause all around, even from passersby.

The police officer looked chagrined. "Well, girls, I guess the stolen auto report was a prank. Sorry to have bothered you." He tipped his hat and strolled away.

"But wait!" Cherry cried. "Someone has stolen my car papers." But she was too late, for the police officer had already ducked into a nearby donut shop.

"Velma's kidnappers have a lot of nerve reporting us to the police as car thieves," Midge snarled. She clenched her fists. "If I could just get my hands on them! By now, I'm sure they're miles away from here. I guess we're stuck here until Officer Jones arrives. When we do find her, we'll insist she immediately run a check on the license number of the car!" Midge fumbled through her jacket pockets. "Jeez, I wish I had a cigarette."

She found a butt on the floor of the car and lit it. Cherry examined herself in the car window. "I'm so rumpled," she wailed. She look at her wrinkled outfit with dismay. "If only Aunt Gert were home, we could at least have a place to freshen up. I'd sure love to change my clothes," she wished aloud.

"Actually, Cherry, this would be a good time for you to change your clothes," Midge agreed. She crushed the cigarette under her black penny loafers. "Follow me!"

"What is she up to?" Cherry wondered. Midge didn't strike her as the type to worry about anyone's appearance, especially in the middle of a mystery!

"Where are we going?" Cherry asked as she walked behind Midge. "Does it involve running?" Cherry groaned. "It does, doesn't it?"

"If I'm going to change my clothes, shouldn't I have my suitcase?" Cherry asked.

"Cherry, I had a terrible realization back there. If those thugs see you, they'll know they've got the wrong girl and then they might come after you. Why, they might even harm Velma if they think she's of no use to them!" Midge added.

Cherry gasped. "What a horrible thought!" she cried. "We've got to do something."

Midge nodded. "I think the best way to protect both you and Velma is to disguise you somehow."

"I could tie a scarf over my head and get some dark glasses," Cherry said.

Midge shook her head. "You'll just look like someone who's trying to hide," she said. "We need to make you look so different that even your own mother wouldn't recognize you."

Midge pushed Cherry through the doorway of Mr. Harold's House of Hair. Cherry had a funny feeling something very queer was about to happen.

"What can I do for you girls?" asked a man in a crisp babyblue smock.

"My friend needs a haircut," Midge said. "And we're in a bit of a hurry."

"I'll see if Mr. Harold is available," he said politely, disappearing through flowered curtains in the back of the room. He returned a moment later. "You're in luck," he smiled. "There's been a cancellation. Mr. Harold can see you right now."

Cherry wasn't so sure how lucky she felt, but she didn't say anything as the man guided her to a salon chair and tied the strings of a plastic smock around her neck.

"Midge, you won't let him do anything really awful to me, will you?" she begged.

Midge patted Cherry on the shoulder. "Just trust me," she said. "I know what looks good on a girl."

A moment later Mr. Harold came sailing though the curtains. He glided over to Cherry, took a comb from his smock pocket, and ran it through her mop of tousled curls.

"Tsk, tsk. Who gave you this cut, dear?"

Cherry gulped. "I had it cut in Idaho last year," she said. "My mother's friend Lucille does hair in her basement..." She stopped when she realized the man wasn't listening. He was staring intently at her head and frowning. Cherry squirmed under the hot plastic smock. She was beginning to feel like a specimen under a microscope.

"This is an awfully outdated look for such a young girl," Mr. Harold proclaimed. "If I were you, I'd go with a sportier look." He pulled Cherry's thick dark hair off her face and secured it with several bobby pins. He stepped back a few feet and frowned.

"What do you think, Roberto?"

The man in the babyblue smock agreed that Cherry's hair needed a dramatic change.

"What did you have in mind, dear?" Mr. Harold asked. Cherry was about to say that she didn't have a thing in mind, when she realized the hairdresser was speaking to Midge!

Midge whispered something in Mr. Harold's ear-something Cherry couldn't hear.

He nodded. "I know what you want," he said.

Mr. Harold took a large pair of shears from the drawer of a pink plastic vanity table, and soon locks of her dark curly hair fell to the floor.

Cherry closed her eyes and screwed up her courage. "I'm doing this for the safety of everyone concerned," she told herself.

It was hard to keep from crying when she heard the buzz of the clippers on her neck. "Oh, what will Mother say?" she wondered.

A few minutes later, the buzzing stopped. "It's a new you," Mr. Harold announced grandly, as he twirled the chair around so she was facing the mirror.

"Open your eyes, dear," he chuckled. "It's over."

"I'm scared!" Cherry cried. "Why, I can feel the air on the back of my neck!" she wailed. She peeked at her reflection.

"Eek!" she cried, upon spying the cap of short curly hair. "There can't be more than three inches of hair anywhere on my head!" She tugged at her short pixie bangs.

"What is Nurse Marstad going to say?" she cried. "Regulations state I've got to have enough hair to pin my cap on," she explained. "And my mother..."

Cherry stopped. Why, she didn't even want to think about what her mother was going to say when she saw her new hair-do!

"I look like a boy!" she wailed.

Midge chuckled. "Cherry, no one could ever mistake you for a boy. Well, not yet, anyway." She evaluated Cherry's new hair-do with a critical eye.

"That's better," she said. "Now all you need are some new clothes."

"A new outfit would cheer me up," Cherry said, glumly surveying her new short hair-do. "How fast does hair grow?" she wondered.

Midge paid Mr. Harold and purchased a small can of hair pomade. She slipped a dollar into his hand.

"Stop fussing with your hair," she said to Cherry. "Let's go."

Cherry walked a few paces behind Midge, pausing now and then to get a glimpse of herself in store windows. "What did you buy back there?" she asked.

"You'll find out," Midge said mysteriously.

"You're always saying that," Cherry complained. "Why, Midge, I..." But before she could finish, Midge hurried her into a store. "See that cop car out there?" Midge asked, pointing to a patrol car cruising slowly down the street. "This is the third time I've spotted that car going up and down this block."

"Maybe it's that friend of Betty's," Cherry suggested eagerly.

"And maybe our pals in the red convertible have made another false report on us," Midge replied bitterly. "We'd better lay low until we complete your makeover."

"But if I change the way I look, how will Betty's friend recognize us?" Cherry asked. "In my note, I told her to look for a tall blond girl in jeans and a dark-haired girl wearing a pink seersucker shift."

"She'll know it's us," Midge said.

Cherry sighed. "You'll explain later, right?"

Midge grinned. "Right. Now let's get you some clothes."

Cherry exclaimed over the pretty dresses she saw as they walked through the large department store. "It's time I got a few new things," she thought.

As much as she enjoyed wearing her nurse's whites, especially the cute cap and dashing cape, she did get tired of appearing in the same outfit over and over again. And, as her mother had been quick to point out the other day, the white uniform did little to highlight her fair coloring.

Besides, she was beginning to feel a little dowdy in the sleeveless seersucker shift she had thrown on at a rest stop. It had been considered the height of fashion when she bought it last summer in Pleasantville. She noticed that there were many girls dressed like Midge in simple jeans, T-shirts and aviator jackets.

"And all the girls wearing dresses look more highfashion than I do," she noticed. She pulled a white satin cocktail dress with a beaded bodice off the rack and held it in front of herself.

"What do you think, Midge? Do I look more glamorous?" Midge made her put the dress back.

"I have something a little different in mind for you," she said. She made a bee-line for the men's department.

She rifled through a display of men's casual slacks. "What size pants do you wear?" she asked.

Cherry was speechless.

"What's the matter, Cherry? Don't girls wear pants in Happy Town, or wherever it is you're from?"

"Pleasantville. But we only wear slacks for gardening. My mother says slacks aren't very feminine."

"They're not-that's the point." Midge held a pair of brown slacks to Cherry's waist. "These look like they'll fit," she said.

A salesman sporting a pencil-thin mustache and an arrogant attitude approached the two girls.

"Are you ladies finding everything you need?" he sniffed.

Midge looked annoyed. "We're fine," she said, turning her back on the man to examine a rack of white button-down shirts.

"Are you looking for anything special today? Perhaps a gift for a special boyfriend?" he persisted.

"Yes, that's it," Midge answered, looking at thin leather belts displayed next to the cash register. Cherry could tell by the tone in her voice that Midge was annoyed.

"Those slacks you picked are some of our finest in men's casual wear," the man said. "They're wash-n-wear and never need ironing. You'll appreciate that," he chuckled.

"I couldn't be happier," Midge replied sarcastically. "Wrap 'em up," she said.

"If you don't mind me saying so, your boyfriend's a pretty small fellow," the man observed, as he rang up Midge's purchases. He stared at Cherry, who was busy examining her new hair-do in the three-way mirror. "Yes, sir, he must be an awfully small fellow for a tall gal like yourself."

"Yeah, he's about your size," Midge retorted. She quickly paid the bill and grabbed Cherry's arm. They sailed through Misses Dresses and ducked into a changing room.

Midge handed the bag of men's clothes to Cherry. "Put these on," she said. "I'll run to the shoe department and get you some shoes. I'd say you were about a size nine." She pulled the curtain tight. "Don't let anyone in," she said.

"But, Midge, if you wanted me to wear slacks, there's a darling pair of capri pants out there," Cherry wailed. But Midge had already left.

Cherry looked with trepidation at the masculine clothes. She kicked off her flats and gingerly slipped on the fly-front baggy slacks. She had just finished buttoning the shirt when Midge stuck her arm through the part in the curtain.

"Here are your shoes," she said, dropping a pair of men's size-seven black penny loafers on the floor. "Let's see how you look."

Cherry poked her head through the curtain and looked around shyly. "There's nobody here," Midge assured her. "Besides, you're going to have to come out sooner or later."

"You look cute," Midge exclaimed as Cherry emerged from the dressing room.

"My mother would die if she could see me," Cherry fretted, putting her hands on her hips in a girlish manner.

"If you're going to wear that outfit, you can't put your hands on your hips like that," Midge said. "Put them in your pockets like I do.

"And when you walk, don't glide or skip or mince. You have a brother, don't you?" Cherry nodded. "Then walk the way he walks," Midge said.

When Cherry imitated her brother's walk, Midge hooted with laughter. "Forget that," she said. "Watch me."

Midge strode confidently up and down the carpeted hallway outside the dressing room.

Cherry put her hands deep in her pants pockets and imitated Midge's walk.

"That's better," Midge said. "Now, roll up your shirt sleeves."

Then Midge knelt and rolled the cuff of Cherry's trousers. "That'll do for now. Maybe your mom will peg them later," she teased. "That's how butches wear theirs."

She stood back and surveyed her work. "There's just one more thing," she said, reaching in her pocket and taking out the can of pomade she had purchased from Mr. Harold.