Free The Runaway Bride by Carolyn Keene

T-shirt and joined her friend. The rain was beating steadily against the windowpane. Outside, the lush summer foliage quivered on the trees.
    Nancy ran a hand through her reddish blond hair, which was curling ever so slightly from the humidity. “Actually, we’ve been really lucky so far,” she murmured. “I think this is supposed to be the Japanese rainy season. This time of year it can pour for two weeks straight.”
    â€œTwo weeks!” George exclaimed. “I hope that doesn’t happen while we’re here. We’ll die of cabin fever.”
    Nancy chuckled. “No way. We’re going to be too busy to stay inside. We have a case to solve, remember?”
    â€œRight.” George leaned back on her elbows and frowned. “After what happened to you at the festival, though, I’m beginning to wonder if we shouldn’t pack our bags and go home.” She added lightly, “Of course, that would mean leaving behind a certain gorgeous Australian.”
    Nancy felt her cheeks growing warm at the mention of Mick. He’d come so close to kissing her under the magnolia trees the night before.
    What’s wrong with you, Drew, she chided herself. You’ve got a fantastic boyfriend back home. And you told Mick that you just wanted to be friends.
    There was a soft knock on the door. George went to get it. It was Mrs. Ito with the girls’ breakfast.
    â€œGood morning,” she called out, setting the tray down on the table. “Have you found the young man who brought you the bad fugu yet?”
    â€œNot yet,” Nancy replied. “But we’re working on it.”
    Mrs. Ito lifted the cover off one of the dishes. On it was a perfectly shaped golden omelet garnished with a sprig of parsley. “I thought you girls might be homesick for American food,” she said.
    George sat up eagerly. “Thank you, Mrs. Ito!”
    After Mrs. Ito had left, George and Nancy sat down at the table and started to dig in. Smiling happily, George picked up a fork and took a bite of the omelet. Then her smile faded.
    â€œNan?” she said slowly. “This omelet is cold.”
    Nancy took a bite of hers and made a face. “You’re right,” she agreed. “I wonder if Mrs. Ito did that on purpose? Maybe she thinks omelets are supposed to be that way.”
    â€œKind of makes me miss the grilled fish, rice, and miso soup we’ve been having every morning,” George said.
    The phone rang. Nancy went over to the dresser and picked it up. “Hello?”
    â€œNancy? It’s me, Mari. Any news?”
    â€œGeorge and I had a pretty busy day yesterday,” Nancy replied. Then she told Mari aboutHarajuku, Mad Dog, and the Bon Matsuri festival.
    Mari gasped when Nancy got to the part about the bonfire. “Nancy, this is getting crazy!”
    â€œSomeone does want me off this case,” Nancy commented grimly. “The question is, who?”
    â€œWhat are you going to do next?” Mari paused, then added, “Or maybe you should stop investigating, and we should just turn this whole mess over to the police. It’s getting too dangerous—”
    â€œNot yet,” Nancy cut in. “I feel as if I’m getting close. George and I are going to pay Mad Dog another visit this morning. I have a strong hunch he may turn out to be the guy with the crew cut who’s responsible for the fugu and the bonfire attack.”
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    An hour later Nancy and George walked briskly across the vacant dirt lot toward Mad Dog’s building, stepping carefully to avoid the puddles. The rain was coming down in sheets now, with occasional bursts of lightning and thunder.
    They got to the front security door. But just as Nancy was about to open it, she heard footsteps inside. Somebody was coming down the stairs.
    Could it be Mad Dog, Nancy wondered, then got an idea.
    â€œQuick, George!” Nancy tugged at her