Sleepover Sleuths by Carolyn Keene Page B

Heather!”
    â€œOooh!” cried Bess.
    â€œAhhh!” exclaimed George.
    There were only a few Hollywood Heathers made in the whole United States. She was very special and very expensive.
    â€œI heard Heather’s poncho is made out of real cashmere,” Bess said. “That’s wool from goats.”
    â€œI heard she has real leather boots!” George said.
    â€œAnd sterling silver earrings!” Nancy put in.
    â€œI read on the City Girls Web site that there’s only one Hollywood Heather left in the whole country,” George added.
    Mr. Drew slowed down as he drove up a tree-lined street. He stopped the car in front of a huge white house.
    â€œThis is the Shannon house, girls,” Mr. Drew said.
    Nancy leaned over Bess and George to look out the window. “Wow!” she exclaimed.
    A red carpet lined the path leading to the house. There were huge lights on the lawn and cardboard cutouts of famous movie stars!

    Deirdre stepped out of the house wearing dark sunglasses and a fancy feather boa. As Nancy, Bess, and George walked up the red carpet, Mr. Shannon snapped pictures of them. Nancy guessed they were for Deirdre’s Web site. Mr. Shannon was a lawyer, just like Nancy’s dad.
    â€œNancy, George, Bess!” Deirdre called, swinging her boa. “Are you ready for your close-up? I mean—sleepover?”
    â€œWhat’s up with this?” Bess whispered to Nancy and George.
    â€œI think Deirdre has gone Hollywood,” George whispered.
    The flash from Mr. Shannon’s camera made Nancy see spots. “I don’t get it,” she said as she blinked. “Isn’t this supposed to be a City Girls party?”

CHAPTER TWO
Sleepover Secret
    â€œHi, girls!” Mrs. Shannon said as they entered the house. Deirdre’s mom was wearing a pink sweater and black stretch pants. Her brown hair was combed in a neat flip.
    â€œHello,” Nancy said in her most polite voice.
    â€œWhy don’t you bring your gear down to the basement?” Mrs. Shannon said. “That’s where the fun is!”
    â€œAnd the snacks!” Deirdre added.
    Deirdre waved them to the door leading to the basement. George pointed to a dark blue duffel bag against the wall. “Looks like someone forgot their bag,” she said.
    Deirdre squeezed her nose and said, “That’s Trina Vanderhoof’s smelly basketball bag. I’mmaking her keep it upstairs so it doesn’t stink up the sleepover.”

    Nancy felt something tickle her ankle. She looked down and saw a furry white cat. It purred softly as it rubbed against Nancy’s leg.
    â€œShe looks like a marshmallow!” Nancy cooed.
    â€œYou guessed her name,” Deirdre said. “It’s Marshmallow!”
    â€œCan Marshmallow come to the party?” George asked.
    â€œI wish,” Deirdre sighed. “Trina is allergic to cats.”
    Trina Vanderhoof was in Mrs. Bailey’s third grade class at school. She was so tall that she played basketball with the fourth grade boys at recess. She was also becoming very good friends with Deirdre.
    The girls walked down the narrow staircase to the basement. The room was decorated with silverand gold balloons and big cardboard stars. A sign on the wall read, HOORAY FOR HOLLYWOOD ! There was also a big-screen TV, a DVD player, a sofa against one wall, and shelves filled with books and games. A table was piled high with presents for Deirdre.
    Nancy saw more girls sitting on the floor with their dolls. She recognized Trina, Kendra Jackson, Madison Foley, Andrea Wu, and Marcy Rubin. Nancy knew everyone from school—except a little girl running around in footsie pajamas.
    â€œMarcy pours orange juice on her cornflakes!” the little girl sang out loud. “Marcy is afraid of spiders!”
    â€œThat’s my little sister, Cassidy,” Marcy groaned. “My parents went to a concert tonight, so I had to bring