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    The Haunting on Heliotrope Lane
    The Haunting on Heliotrope Lane
    The Haunting on Heliotrope Lane
    Ebook113 pages1 hour

    The Haunting on Heliotrope Lane

    By Carolyn Keene

    5/5

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    About this ebook

    Nancy and her friends must try to figure out why a girl is acting strangely after visiting a haunted house in this sixteenth book of the Nancy Drew Diaries, a fresh approach to the classic mystery series.

    Nancy’s classmate, Willa, needs her help. Willa is convinced something is terribly wrong with her friend Izzy, but everyone has dismissed Willa’s concerns, saying it’s just teen angst. But Willa thinks it’s more than that; she thinks Izzy is possessed.

    It all started when Willa and Izzy snuck into an abandoned house with some of their friends. After running around and exploring, Willa went in to the basement and found Izzy staring into space. Izzy was conscious, but she was acting weird—she wouldn’t speak and she didn’t seem to recognize Willa. And when Izzy finally woke up from her trance, she had no memory of the previous few hours. Since then, Izzy’s continued to act strangely. She’s usually funny and easygoing, but now she’s high strung and has intense fits. Once she even threatened to hurt Willa.

    Nancy is sure there’s a rational explanation for all of this and has a feeling she’ll find it at the “haunted” house. But what she finds has her questioning her resolve. Could Willa be right? Is Izzy possessed by the ghost of Heliotrope Lane?
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAladdin
    Release dateJan 2, 2018
    ISBN9781481485487
    The Haunting on Heliotrope Lane
    Author

    Carolyn Keene

    Carolyn Keene is the author of the ever-popular Nancy Drew books.

    Read more from Carolyn Keene

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      Best story ever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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    Book preview

    The Haunting on Heliotrope Lane - Carolyn Keene

    Dear Diary,

    I DON’T BELIEVE IN GHOSTS.

    Really.

    I DON’T.

    But every once in a while a case comes along that makes me wonder. Like when Willa told me that her best friend was acting super strange after they went to a so-called haunted house on Heliotrope Lane. Once bubbly and fun, suddenly Izzy was acting paranoid, angry—even violent. Willa was afraid her friend might actually hurt her, unless something was done.

    Worse, when I went with Bess and George to check out the house, we found it totally trashed by trespassers and lookie-loos. It seemed the rumor that the house was haunted had traveled all through River Heights High School and the middle school. And while the house was totally creepy, I know better than to believe it’s haunted.

    It just feels like something evil is at work there.

    CHAPTER ONE

    The Midnight Show

    SO, WHEN THE GUY DIED, my best friend Bess Marvin was saying as she walked out of the movie theater, was that, like, black blood that came out of him? You know, when he was like . . . She made a retching motion onto the sidewalk.

    Um, I murmured, but my voice was hoarse from three hours of screaming. Freaky Friday double features can do that to you. "Can we talk about something else? Anything else?"

    But George Fayne, Bess’s cousin and my other best friend, had already held up her pointer finger. Good question! she said in her perfectly fine voice. I thought the black stuff was evil. Like, liquid evil?

    I thought it was the souls of all the people whose lives he’d ruined, my boyfriend, Ned Nickerson, put in, adjusting his glasses as I thought back to the scene and felt my stomach roil. "You know, by making them eat their own organs. That was cold."

    Oh gosh, I muttered, grabbing my stomach. I almost forgot that part.

    Nance! Bess cried, her blond hair puffing around her shoulders as she stopped short, suddenly taking notice of the state I was in. Are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost!

    "I’ve just seen several ghosts, I reminded her, leaning against a streetlight, and some zombies, and that one guy with the liquid evil who kind of defies categorization. And a lot of carnage. I paused, trying to think about golden retriever puppies, or soap bubbles, or sunshine—anything to counter the three hours of terror I’d just sat through. Have I mentioned I’m not a horror movie fan?"

    Oh, Nancy, George said, and smiled at me as Ned put his arm around my shoulders. "I thought you said you were willing to give horror movies a try. I thought Bess was going to be the delicate one."

    It’s funny, Bess agreed, nodding, so did I.

    I did give them a try, I said, my voice steadying, and I think I’ve decided now. No, thank you. I think I’m done with Freaky Fridays.

    That’s kind of unexpected for you, don’t you think? Ned asked. You’re not a scaredy type. You spend half your life chasing bad guys.

    This was true. My sleuthing—which had always been my favorite extracurricular activity—could get scary, sometimes. But there’s a big difference between confronting a crook and having to eat your own organs, I pointed out.

    True, Bess said, nodding seriously.

    I’m sorry you got freaked, George said, her dark eyes sincere. I just really wanted to come to this, because you so rarely see Takara movies screened in the United States! And he’s such an amazing director. The way he sets up his tension shots . . .

    In the last month or so, George had discovered that she was a huge fan of scary movies. After exhausting her Netflix queue, she’d started checking DVDs out at the library, and then getting recommendations for streaming rentals from horror movie blogs online. She’d become particularly interested in the work of certain directors—like Takara, who, I had to agree, had a real knack for scaring the bejesus out of you. And maybe making you a little nauseated.

    I took a breath through my nose, breathed out through my mouth. That’s how our gym teacher says you should center yourself. I get it, George. I’m not mad at you. And I can see where the story was cool, if . . . well, if it wasn’t going to give me nightmares for the next month. I think maybe I just don’t have the constitution for this stuff.

    George nodded, smoothing her short black hair behind her ear, and Ned gave me a little squeeze.

    Let’s go back to the car, he said. Turn on all the lights. Play some really fun music, like Lily Jo Jarret.

    I smiled. Ned loves Lily Jo Jarret, but he always tries to act like he’s listening to her ironically.

    Yeah, we can go back to my house and watch something that’s totally the opposite of scary, George suggested. "Packed House? I hear that was good!"

    Ned took my arm with an encouraging grin and slowly, we made our way around the theater to the parking lot in back. It was huge, nearly empty—and strangely dark.

    Why aren’t the lights on? Bess asked, frowning.

    Yeah, George said, looking around. The car is over there—I remember where we parked. She led us toward her small red coupe. But this is weird.

    And probably a safety hazard, Ned added.

    Maybe it’s because it’s so late? George suggested, leading us in the direction of the car. She reached into her pocket, pulled out her car keys, and flicked on a little flashlight that was on her key ring. It made a tiny but strong beam of light.

    Maybe, Ned agreed. They could be trying to save on electri—AAAAAAUUUUUGH!

    A shadowy figure had suddenly jumped into the flashlight beam.

    CHAPTER TWO

    Haunted

    I FELT MY STOMACH LEAP up into my throat and grabbed Ned’s arm so hard he cut off his scream to say, Ow!

    Oh my God! Bess screamed, reaching into her purse. Get back! I’ll get you with my pepper spray!

    If I hadn’t been so frightened, I might have smiled. I’ve never seen Bess actually use pepper spray, but the threat is always her first line of defense.

    Sorry! the figure said in a voice that was surprisingly young and female. Dude, don’t spray me. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you guys.

    George angled the flashlight at the figure’s face. It was a young girl—maybe thirteen or fourteen years old.

    She had blond hair pulled back in a high ponytail and wide eyes, and she was wearing a Chicago Bulls hoodie.

    "Well, you did, Bess said indignantly, pulling her hand out of her purse. Sorry. I shouldn’t have threatened you like that. But maybe don’t sneak up on people in dark parking lots after scary movie screenings?"

    I’m sorry, I’m sorry, the girl said again. You’re right, I should know better. It’s just, I recognized you, Nancy. She turned to me, hope lighting her eyes. You’re Nancy Drew, aren’t you? The sort-of detective? You helped my cousin one time.

    Uh, I said, sort of caught off guard by my unexpected fame. Sort-of detective? Thank . . . you? Probably. I do investigate things sometimes.

    The girl looked pleased. Great. That’s great. Oh, I’m Willa, by the way. And again, I’m really sorry I scared you. We just saw the movie, and were walking to the car, and I spotted you and was like, ‘Wait, we have to go over—’

    We? Ned interrupted, as George moved the flashlight beam to the left and right.

    Yeah, a deep voice intoned from the darkness, making us all jump about a foot in the air.

    "How many of you are there?" Bess asked the girl, looking nonplussed.

    Just me and my brother, the girl said, and a slightly older boy with a mop of sandy hair stepped into the light, looking less than thrilled to be there.

    "Um, hi,"

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