Read Online California Schemin': Book One in the Malibu Mayhem Trilogy by Carolyn Keene - Free Book Online

mystery,” Mallory said.
    The word “mystery” made Bess, George, and me trade glances. Should we tell the sisters we were detectives?
    Probably not.
    Bev called Mandy and Mallory back into the house.
    “Thanks for the coffee,” George said. “But no more messages on Stacey’s phone, okay?”
    Mallory quickly looked over her shoulder, then whispered to us, “Those mean messages were Bev’s idea.”
    “She said it would make great TV,” Mandy added with a shrug. “Sorry.”
    “Apology accepted,” I said. “Keep us posted on Mia, okay?”
    “Deal,” Mallory agreed.
    On our way back to the house, we stopped on the beach, hoping the dead gull we had seen was a bad dream, but it wasn’t—it was still there.
    “I believe Mandy and Mallory when they said they didn’t trash our beach,” I admitted. “They seemed to have pretty solid alibis.”
    “How do we know they’re solid?” George asked.
    “I know a way we can find out,” Bess said. She pulled out her phone and went online. “There’s a site called Star Track. It tells you where and when celebrities are on the town—with tons of pictures.”
    “I’m supposed to be the computer geek here,” George complained. “How come I didn’t know about Star Track?”
    “Because you’re not star struck ,” I said with a smile. “Like Bess is.”
    George and I peered over Bess’s shoulder. Music blared as a flashy home page appeared. Pictures of celebrities smiled out of blinking silver stars. One star contained a picture of the Casabian sisters.
    “Perfect!” Bess said, clicking on the star.
    Up popped photos of Mandy and Mallory. One showed them standing side by side on a red carpet dressed in animal print minidresses. Mandy’s was zebra, Mallory’s leopard.
    “‘Mandy and Mallory Casabian looking wild at the premiere of Love Safari ,’” I read the caption aloud.
    “It says the date of the premiere was last night,” Bess pointed out. “Just as they said.”
    “Okay, so they didn’t lie about last night,” George said. “But what about two nights ago, when the garbage was dumped?”
    Bess scrolled down to the next picture. It showed the sisters walking into a club called Tic-Tock two nights ago. A giant clock over the door read two o’clock.
    “That’s when I heard the voices,” I said. “If Mandy and Mallory were clubbing late that night, they couldn’t have been on the beach.”
    “Which means the sisters are clean,” Bess said. “So if Mandy and Mallory didn’t make that mess—who did?”
    I didn’t have a clue, until I remembered the yellow sunburst logo on the makeup containers. Thesisters didn’t use the spa’s makeup, so…
    “Could the spa have dumped the trash?” I asked.
    “Why would a spa of all places throw garbage on our beach?” George wondered. “Or on any beach, for that matter?”
    I felt the warm foam of a wave roll over my foot. Which made me think…“Maybe the spa didn’t dump it—maybe it came in with the tide,” I said.
    “The tide?” George furrowed her brow. “I’m not getting this, Nancy.”
    “The yacht , George. What if they dumped their garbage off the yacht, into the ocean?”
    “Why would they do that?” Bess asked.
    “Maybe they’re too cheap to hire a private trash pickup service,” I said. “Or maybe they’re too lazy to recycle.”
    “Especially if they use hypodermic needles,” George said, glancing down at her foot. “They’d have to dispose of them in a nonhazardous way.”
    “So to save time or money,” Bess went on, “the spa secretly dumps their trash? Maybe ‘garbage in, garbage out’ really does mean something.”
    “Maybe,” I said. But I wasn’t entirely convinced; it still seemed kind of strange to me.
    Then George reminded us, “Well, the hospital should have the results on the needle soon, and we’ll know what the spa is using them for.”
    “It’s got to be Botox,” Bess said. “I mean, did you see that portrait of Roland? It’s a