The Magician's Secret (Nancy Drew Diaries #8)(27)

Ned chuckled.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I said, turning to him. I thought he’d be busy all day finishing reports for my dad and then escorting Smallwood to the airport.

“It turns out that Smallwood is going to hang around for a few more days to get to know Candy better,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “So I got the rest of the afternoon off. Turns out I can go to my cousin’s fifth birthday party tonight after all.” He grinned. “Cake, balloon animals, face painting . . . want to come?”

“How can I say no?” I said with a big laugh as I grabbed my purse and followed Ned out the door.



There was a magician at the party.

Not just any magician, but Sawyer. Turns out that this was the Stupendous Sawyer’s first professional gig.

Standing in front of a group of captivated kids, Sawyer performed card tricks and pulled a bunny out of a hat. For his grand finale, he asked for an assistant and chose me out of the crowd.

I boldly climbed into a long box and let my newest friend saw me in half.

The kids cheered when Sawyer said, “Abracadabra” and I stepped out of the box whole again.

“So, Nancy Drew, how’s it all done?” Ned asked me as we sat in a back corner of the yard, eating the most delicious lemon cake I’d ever tasted. “Tell me the secret.”

I laughed, then shrugged. “Who knows? Magic is a mystery that doesn’t need solving.”





Dear Diary,



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I GUESS HUGO WAS A BETTER MAGICIAN than anyone could have seen . . . even Lonestar! I can’t help feeling bad that Lonestar’s most trusted adviser ended up betraying him. It can’t be easy to be a celebrity in the spotlight like that. There’s one thing I know for sure, though: True-blue friends like Bess and George are even more precious than the flawless jewels Hugo tried to steal.



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READ WHAT HAPPENS IN THE NEXT MYSTERY IN THE NANCY DREW DIARIES,


The Clue at Black Creek Farm


“I’M JUST SAYING,” MY FRIEND BESS Marvin said as we pushed open the door of the River Heights Community Center, “I don’t see how you can get this excited about vegetables.”

She was talking to George Fayne, her cousin and my other best friend, who was following behind with an expression like she’d just sucked on a lemon. Ned Nickerson, my boyfriend, was right behind George, wearing an amused expression.

“They’re not just vegetables,” George said, in the frustrated tone of someone who’d been arguing with the same person nearly since birth, “they’re organic, sustainable, locally grown vegetables. And fruits, too!”

“I just think it’s all a little silly,” said Bess, sighing as we entered the community center gymnasium, which was set up like a banquet hall, filled with round tables covered with red tablecloths and enticing combinations of fresh harvest produce. A banner welcomed us to the FIRST ANNUAL BLACK CREEK FARM CSA BANQUET AND HARVEST CELEBRATION.

George glared at her cousin. “How is organic farming silly?” she demanded.

Ned adjusted his glasses and spoke up. “I might see what Bess is getting at,” he said, giving George a disarming grin. “Not that any farming is silly, but . . . you know, scientists have been trying for years to prove that organically grown produce is better for you, and they’ve found very little evidence.”

George let out a scoff. “Well, thank you, Dr. Science.”

I held up my hands in the gesture for truce. “All right, all right,” I said.

I was saved from further arguing by the interruption of a grinning blonde woman with a purple streak in her hair.

“OMG, Bess, and George!” the woman cried, appearing out of nowhere to pull the two cousins into a big hug. “The last time I saw you, you were kids; now you’re young ladies, as my grandmother would say!”

George and Bess exchanged glances and smiled as the woman slowly let them go.

“Holly,” George said, “we’re so excited that you invited us to this!” She paused to introduce Ned and me to Holly. “Guys, this is Holly Sinclair. She was Bess’s and my awesome Girl Scout leader.”

Holly shook each of our hands excitedly. “You guys, I’m so happy you could come!” she said, her cheeks flushed. “Black Creek Farm CSA is doing some really good work, trying to change the way our food gets grown,” she said seriously. “They just need some more support from the community. So I convinced them to throw this dinner so people can taste their food!”

“Holly, I told you,” Bess said teasingly, “I like organic farms and all, but we’re not exactly the culinary decision-makers in our families. And my mom really likes the Stop-N-Go,” she added. “Especially since they put in that Starbucks.”

Holly shook her head, her dark eyes shining. “Your mom probably wouldn’t like it so much if she knew where all that mass-produced food was coming from, or what it’s doing to the environment,” she said. “Come on, guys, have a seat with me.”

Holly led our small group to a nearby table, where we all pulled out chairs.