Free The Secret Cookie Club by Martha Freeman Page B

would get my cookies and also what kind they would be.
    It was nine thirty by now, and I was out of excuses. The pictures were in a brown envelope like every other brown envelope in the world. Even so, I was confident I would find it . . . at first.
    An hour later, I wasn’t so sure.

CHAPTER 23

    Emma
    â€œYou’ve got a mystery to solve, Emma. Just like Nancy Drew.” That was my friend Caitlin’s assessment. It was the next morning, Saturday, after services at our temple. Along with my friend Julia, we were walking from there to the food pantry to volunteer. It wasn’t that cold, but the damp was chilly, and we were all puffed up in coats, hats, and mittens.
    â€œCar’s coming—wait!” I said as we approached the crosswalk. Everyone stopped.
    â€œI love Nancy Drew,” Julia said, “especially the old ones.”
    â€œOkay, it’s safe,” I said, and we crossed the street.
    â€œIn the old ones, they drive around in a roadster and wear tweed skirts and cardigan sweaters,” Julia said. “They never wear jeans; they wear slacks .”
    â€œI like wearing jeans,” said Caitlin.
    â€œBut sometimes wouldn’t it be nice to look nice?” Julia asked.
    â€œI look nice if I remember to put on lip gloss,” Caitlin said.
    â€œIf we dressed nice, maybe we could have roadsters,” Julia said. “Maybe it all goes together.”
    The food pantry is where a video store used to be. One more block, turn the corner, and we were there. Because it’s so close, our parents let us walk and then one of them picks us up at lunchtime.
    â€œWhat is a roadster?” Caitlin asked.
    â€œA little sports car,” I said.
    â€œA convertible?” Caitlin asked.
    â€œI don’t think so,” I said.
    â€œWell, that’s disappointing,” Caitlin said.
    â€œProbably safer, though,” I said. “Cars didn’t have seat belts in those days.”
    â€œIn what days?” Caitlin said.
    â€œThe 1930s—that’s when the original Nancy Drew books take place,” I said, “the ones written by Carolyn Keene.”
    Julia said, “There never was a Carolyn Keene,” which was a very Julia thing to say because Julia is nice but also a know-it-all.
    Caitlin said, “But her name is right on the cover.”
    â€œShe still wasn’t real,” Julia said. “Someone just had the idea for those books and thought that name sounded right for the author. Really, they were written by different people. That’s how they could get so many, and how there are still new ones now.”
    Inside the food pantry, the warmth felt good for about one minute. Then we got hot and were gladto hang up our coats. After that, we signed in and said hello to Mrs. Rust, who gave us our assignment: Clean up the shelves of canned goods. She didn’t have to add instructions. We had done this job before.
    â€œGot it?” she asked.
    â€œGot it!” Caitlin, Julia, and I replied.
    Our community food pantry collects food from people and stores that have extra, then distributes it to people who don’t have much money. Caitlin, Julia, and I used to volunteer with our parents, but now we’ve been at it so long we can work on our own.
    Pulling cans off shelves does not require any brain cells, so we continued our conversation.
    â€œSo how would Nancy Drew find my missing envelope?” I asked.
    â€œ The Secret of the Missing Envelope is not a very exciting title,” Caitlin said.
    â€œI don’t care if it’s exciting. It’s what’s missing,” I said.
    â€œ The Secret of the Stolen Photographs ,” said Julia. “That’s better.”
    â€œBut they weren’t stolen,” I said. “Who would steal them?”
    â€œAha!” said Julia. “ Now you’re thinking like Nancy Drew! I say it was probably Benjamin, because it wasn’t your mom or