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Informationen zum Autor Carolyn Keene is the author of the ever-popular Nancy Drew books. Klappentext Nancy and her friends must navigate a cruise ship crisis in the first book of the Nancy Drew Diaries, a fresh approach to a classic series. With the majestic and mysterious Alaskan scenery as a backdrop, Nancy and company have to find out who's trying to sabotage the maiden voyage and why. Leseprobe Curse of the Arctic Star CHAPTER ONE Bon Voyage “NAME AND CABIN NUMBER, PLEASE?” THE efficient-looking porter asked, reaching for the large green suitcase sitting on the dock beside me. “Nancy Drew. Hollywood Suite.” I shrugged and shot a glance at my two best friends. “That’s all they told us—I don’t know the number.” The porter smiled. He was a short, muscular man dressed in a tidy navy jacket with silver piping and matching shorts, with a name tag identifying him as James. Every employee of Superstar Cruises wore some variation on that uniform, from the driver who’d picked us up at the Vancouver airport to the woman checking people in over at the gangway. “That’s all I need to know, Ms. Drew,” James said. “The Hollywood Suite doesn’t have a number.” I watched as he scribbled the letters HS on a bright purple tag, then snapped it onto the handle of my bag. He lifted the suitcase as if it weighed nothing, even though I knew that wasn’t the case. I’m no fashion plate, but a girl needs plenty of clothes for a two-week Alaskan cruise! Then he set my bag on a metal cart along with at least a dozen other suitcases, trunks, and duffels. Meanwhile my friend Bess Marvin was staring up at the ship docked beside us. “Wow,” she said. “Big boat.” “Major understatement,” I replied. The Arctic Star was absolutely massive. We don’t see too many cruise ships in our midwestern hometown of River Heights, but I was pretty sure this one was even larger than most. Just then I heard a scuffle nearby. “Hey, give that back—I don’t want to check it!” George Fayne exclaimed as she grabbed a grungy olive-green duffel bag out of another porter’s hand. George is my other best friend. She’s also Bess’s cousin, though most people find it hard to believe they’re related, since the two of them couldn’t be more different. Exhibit A? Their luggage. George’s consisted of that ugly duffel, a sturdy brown suitcase that looked as if it had been through a demolition derby, and a plain black backpack. Definitely the functional look, just like her short dark hair, faded jeans, and sneakers. Bess, on the other hand, had a matching set of luggage in a nice shade of blue. Tasteful and pulled together, like her sleek, shoulder-length blond hair and linen dress. The porter took a step back. “Of course, miss,” he told George politely. “I only thought—” “Relax, George,” Bess said. “I think you can trust him to get your toothbrush and your days-of-the-week underwear onboard safely.” “My underwear, maybe.” George already had the bag unzipped. She scrabbled through the mess inside and finally came up with her laptop and smartphone. “This stuff? I trust no one.” Bess snorted. “Seriously? We’re going to be cruising the gorgeous Alaskan waters surrounded by amazing scenery. You’re not going to have a lot of time to look for cute kitten videos on YouTube, you know.” “Maybe not,” George retorted. “But if we need to research something for Nancy’s—” “Hi, Alan!” I said loudly, cutting her off as I noticed a guy hurrying toward us. “It’s my lucky day!” the guy announced with a big, cheerful grin. “I found my sunglasses. I must’ve dropped them when we were getting our stuff out...
