“Look,” she said. “This is a receipt from an herbalist’s shop. Last week Cindy spent nearly two hundred dollars there.”
“Really? On what?” Nancy asked.
“I don’t know, I can’t read the writing,” Bess said. “But doesn’t that sound like an awful lot to spend on herbs?”
Ms. Bowers smiled. “Cindy goes in for different health fads,” she explained. “A lot of the girls do—I guess because they’re so body-conscious. Gayle always teases Cindy about it.”
“That’s an awful lot to spend on a fad,” Nancy said. “Maybe she was looking for something healthy to calm her nerves before the commercial shoot. Anyway, I think we’d better check this out.”
She put the receipt in her pocket, then picked up a small photo of Cindy from the dresser top. “Can I take this?” she asked Ms. Bowers. “It might help us when we’re questioning people.”
Ms. Bowers nodded. “Anything you want.”
After saying goodbye to the modeling agent, Nancy and Bess went down to where they had parked the Mustang. Checking a map of the city, Nancy found the location of the herbal shop. They set off, driving south to Chicago Avenue, then turning west.
“This neighborhood has certainly been around awhile,” Bess said. “Look at all the old brick buildings.”
“Yes,” Nancy said. “And look at all the new restaurants and trendy boutiques in them. I guess old is hip. Hey, we’re in luck—there’s a parking space.”
She backed into the space, and she and Bess got out. Delicious smells from a nearby pizza shop tempted them to stop briefly for a lunch of Chicago-style deep-dish pizza. Then, on foot, they proceeded a block to the street they were looking for.
Barely wider than an alley, it sloped down toward the river. The brick building on the corner was being renovated, leaving dirt and mud all over the pavement. They walked under the scaffolding, dodging around a couple of Dumpsters loaded with construction debris, and started down the street.
“That’s the place,” Bess said, pointing to a small shop across the street. Hand-printed signs in the front window advertised Nature’s Herbal Cures for weight, complexion, allergy, and memory problems.
As they entered the shop, the mixture of smells made Nancy feel as if she were drowning in a cup of herb tea. The man behind the counter was tall and thin, with a long brown ponytail and striking blue eyes. He wore jeans and a bright tie-dyed T-shirt. “What can I do for you?” he asked in a mellow voice.
“Our friend, Cindy, bought a lot of stuff here the other day,” said Nancy. She pulled the receipt from her pocket. As if by chance, she let Cindy’s photo fall on the counter. She didn’t want to make it obvious that she was investigating a crime.
“Hey, that’s her picture,” she said, picking it up and showing it to the man. “Do you remember her?”
“Oh, for sure,” he answered. “She’s a steady customer. Besides, I’ve seen her picture all over, on posters and stuff. Sometimes when she comes in, I kid her about how she ought to do ads for some of our antiallergy products.”
“Is that what she bought?” Nancy asked.
The man took the receipt and glanced at it. “Yes, this is all for allergies, hay fever, cold symptoms, like that,” he said. “Oh, and she tried our special genko extract. They say it helps promote better brain-stem functioning. You want to give that a try?”
Nancy laughed. “I’m not a hundred percent sure what my brain stem does, but I think it’s doing it okay,” she said. “You know, this seems like a lot of money for Cindy to spend just to cure that cold of hers.”
“And her allergies,” the man pointed out.
“Well, I’m not allergic to anything,” Nancy said. “I was hoping to buy whatever she uses to counteract stress. She always looks so calm and radiant, you know?”
The man nodded. “That’s inner peace,” he said. “We haven’t learned how to bottle that yet.”
“Well, thanks, anyway,” Nancy said brightly.
Outside, as they started back across the narrow street, Bess complained, “That was a waste of time.”
“Not totally,” Nancy said. “He said that none of that stuff Cindy bought was for her nerves. But if she was really as stressed out as Gayle says she was—”
Nancy stopped in midsentence. What was that squealing noise? She looked over her shoulder.
Her eyes widened, and she caught her breath. One of the big wheeled Dumpsters was bumping down the narrow street in their direction.
Turning, Bess saw it too and gasped. It was hurtling straight at them!
9
A Narrow Escape
As the heavy Dumpster rumbled down the street, Nancy shouted, “Quick, Bess! Out of the way!”
Bess screamed and flung herself to one side. Nancy leapt to the other side. But her foot slipped into a pothole, wrenching her ankle. She felt herself lurch forward—right into the path of the Dumpster! She flung her hands over her head to protect herself as she fell helplessly to the ground.
Just then the Dumpster hit a hump in the pavement. It careened wildly across the narrow street and crashed into the side of a parked car.
“Oh, no!” The herbalist came running out of his shop. “My car! What a bummer!”
Then he noticed Nancy and Bess sprawled on the sidewalk. “Are you guys okay?” he asked.
“I’m okay,” Bess mumbled. She still looked a little dazed.
Nancy stood up, testing her ankle. “I’m fine,” she said. “At least that thing didn’t flatten me.” Reassured, the herbalist went over to check out the damage on his car.
Nancy looked at Bess. “I wonder how that Dumpster happened to roll down the street just as we came out of the shop,” she said.
“It is a pretty strange coincidence,” Bess agreed.
