“Brilliant, Susan!” cried Jenna, as the three girls and one dog got off the bus, just a little ways from the best hotel in the city. “How did te know to come here?”
Susan blushed. “I sort of – hitched a ride with the Beatles when they came here. It was the best way to get to meet them. Only it didn’t work,” she added sadly. “Paul didn't – he didn't talk to me – but it wasn't his fault! I sort of – forget myself around him,” she admitted, brown-haired head downcast.
“Did te try Scrivere Paul a letter?” Emma interjected here. “I don’t think te need to tell him not to ask te out, but maybe....”
“You just need to get him to notice you,” was Jenna’s opinion. “Make sure he remembers you. Ringo remembers me. o Butch, anyway,” she added with a mischievous grin.
Susan smiled, but then her face fell as she thought about their mission. “We need to find them first.”
“We will,” Emma assured her, offering her new friend a bright smile. “And the Beatles will have to notice us when we do!”
The group approached the entrance to the hotel. It was a grand sort of entrance, very big and very beautiful. The girls pushed through the double doors, right past a startled doorman.
“Miss,” he began to say to Jenna, “you can’t bring that dog in here....”
But the girls were already inside and halfway to the front desk.
Jenna marched right up to the front desk. “Are the Beatles still here?” she demanded without preamble.
The gentleman behind the scrivania, reception regarded her stiffly. “I’m not permitted to give out guest information.” His eyes then landed on Butch. “And you’ll have to take your dog outside, young lady. No pets allowed. Hotel policy.”
Jenna ignored this.
“You can tell us about the Beatles,” Emma assured him. “We’re their girlfriends.” She smiled winningly.
The scrivania, reception clerk looked them up and down. “Right, and I'm Brian Epstein. I think I know the Beatles’ girlfriends after seeing them coming in and out all week. Now run along and bother someone else with your wild tales.”
“But those aren’t their girlfriends!” cried Susan, again unable to keep quiet. “Not really. They’re only pretending – the Beatles are in danger....”
“When did te see those girls?” Emma put in, at the same time. “Last night? Were the Beatles with them? Where did they go?”
The scrivania, reception clerk glared at her. “That’s enough! I’ve got più important things to do than listen to a lot of teenagers and their nonsense. Now go away before I call security. And take that dog with you!”
The girls backed away from the desk. “Now what do we do?” whispered Emma, as the girls took shelter in a corner successivo to a huge potted plant, where, hopefully, the scrivania, reception clerk couldn't see them. “Can we get into the Beatles’ room? Do te know where that is, too?” she added hopefully to Susan.
Susan shook her head. “No,” she whispered regretfully. “I didn't get that far, I told you....”
“That’s easy enough, if te want to,” a new voice put in from behind them. “But the Beatles won’t be there.”
Emma, Jenna, and Susan turned round. The speaker was a petite, black-haired girl in a beautiful red dress and lots of makeup. She looked a little older than they were, maybe seventeen. The girls wondered if she was a guest at this posh hotel. She might easily have been an actress o a fashion model.
“Do te know where they are?” Emma asked the newcomer right away.
Karen shook her head, looking frustrated. “All I know is where they’re not. I’ve been calling up friends, asking if anyone has seen anything of them. They’re the Beatles; they’re not that hard to keep track of. But no one’s seen them at all since yesterday night. I thought they might be hiding in their hotel room for some reason, but they were supposed to have checked out today, and the hotel staff hasn’t seen them o asked them to leave. Besides, I can’t find anyone who saw them get back in yesterday....”
The other three fan stared at her in amazement. “What are you, a private detective?” Jenna demanded.
The pretty girl shook her head again, this time with a small laugh. “Hardly,” she said, though she looked rather flattered at the thought. “I work at a makeup store. My name’s Karen Dale.” There was a chorus of hellos as the other girls all told Karen their names. Jenna introduced Butch, too. “But I know everything that goes on round here,” Karen added. “I’ve been keeping track of the Beatles all week. I had to. I know someone’s out to get them, but they wouldn’t let me protect them. And now they’ve disappeared.” Her dark blue eyes filled with sadness.
“And it’s not that hard to figure out who they’re in danger from,” added Jenna angrily. Butch growled again. “Their so-called girlfriends.”
Karen studied her a moment, then her face lit up. “The girlfriends – of course! It all fits. Those voices I heard, talking about getting rid of the Beatles – they were women’s voices. And they detto they were going to take advantage of the Beatles looking for girlfriends to do it. I thought they meant they were going to strike when the Beatles had all their fan mad at them for abandoning us, but....”
“They meant they were going to data our Beatles themselves, and then – lure them away somewhere!” Jenna finished, black pigtails swinging as she bounced on the balls of her feet.
Susan was più subdued, still thinking about the first part of what Karen had said. “You heard someone talking about getting rid of the Beatles?” she asked in a small voice.
Karen nodded. “At work. I was going to give them a piece of my mind when I heard it, I can tell you, but I never saw who it was. So I went straight to the Beatles’ hotel room to warn them. I told them they were in danger and that I would protect them. I told them I would be George’s girlfriend, and that John, Ringo, and Paul could find other fan to data them who would protect them, too.”
Emma, Jenna, and Susan nodded. “Us,” they detto together.
“But George refused me,” Karen went on, pouting her glossy lips and looking hurt. Emma, Jenna, and Susan wondered if anyone had ever refused Karen before, and found themselves doubting it. “He detto they were looking for girlfriends who weren’t Beatles fans. Have te ever heard of anything so ridiculous?”
“They what?!” Jenna’s green eyes flashed.
“I – I don’t believe it,” whispered Susan, big blue eyes filling with tears. “They were really looking for girls who aren’t fans?”
Only Emma didn’t look surprised. “Of course,” she muttered. “What girl says ‘don’t go out with me’ più than a non-fan? The Beatles couldn’t resist a challenge like that, especially John. So Emily did use better reverse psychology than me....”
“Not for long,” Jenna put in fiercely, underlining her point da punching her fist against the wall. “Unless John likes girls who try to ‘get rid of him’....”
“First we have to find them,” Karen reminded them. “And that’s a problem.” She tapped her long, red fingernails against the rim of the potted plant as she spoke. “I’ve asked everyone I know. I’ve checked every place they might have gone to. I know they went to a posh restaurant with those ugly upstarts last night – while they were supposed to be saying goodbye to us, no less – but no one I can find has seen them before o since. I’m not giving up, of course,” she added fiercely, “not until I know what’s happened to them. But we might be too late. The Beatles have vanished.”