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Authors: Carolyn Keene

BOOK: The Stolen Kiss
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Ned didn't give her much time to think about it. The music had changed and the band was playing a Charleston. “Let's cut some rug,” Ned said, using twenties slang badly.

Nancy blew out her breath. Part of her wanted to see where Debbie had gone. Another part wanted to hang out with George and Bryan to figure what Bryan was up to. Instead she opted to dance with Ned. “You're on, Nickerson,” she said, pulling him onto the dance floor. Nancy let herself forget all about her investigation and threw herself into a wild Charleston.

Ned matched his energy to hers and soon they were the only couple on the dance floor. The whole room was clapping and cheering them on. When the music ended, the crowd roared. Nancy sagged into Ned's arms and grinned.

“We're some team!” he shouted into her ear.

Nancy was smiling so hard she thought her face might break. George, Chris, and Brook forced their way up to Nancy and thumped her on the back. “Great dancing, Nan,” George crowed. Nancy looked past George's shoulder, expecting Bryan.

“Where's Bryan?”

“Phone call” was all Nancy heard. Did that mean he had made or received one? Nancy headed for the foyer.

Bryan was on the hall phone, his back to the room. Nancy joined the line outside the ladies' room. “All right!” he shouted enthusiastically into the receiver. He pumped one fist into the air. “Monday night. My future is made.”

Monday—that was when Bryan was having dinner with art collector Ian Sanders. Was he planning to sell
First Kiss
to Sanders? Nancy hoped to hear more, but Bryan hung up and joined a group of guys on the porch.

Hours later the band played its last song. The lights were turned out, but Nancy and Ned still swayed in the circle of each other's arms. “I hate to spoil a good thing,” Ned murmured, “but in case Ms. Sherlock Holmes hasn't noticed, the music has stopped.”

“The band, Ned, not the music,” Nancy whispered into the white linen of Ned's jacket.

“And to think,” Ned said huskily, “only this afternoon I thought I'd lost you to another guy.”

Nancy leaned back and looked up at Ned. She couldn't read his expression in the dark, but from the way he was holding her, she knew he was no longer worried.

• • •

That night Nancy couldn't sleep, so she grabbed her notebook and tiptoed downstairs. She settled herself on a couch in the den and settled in to review her notes on the case. She didn't remember falling asleep, but she woke to a sound outside.

Nancy rose and stretched her cramped limbs. Sunlight poured in through the windows. The day was already warm.

Gravel crunched in the driveway as Nancy made her way to the window. A white Subaru was backing out to the street with Debbie in the driver's seat. Next to her was a girl with spiky bleached hair.

It was the girl from Michael's art class.

Chapter

Nine

N
ANCY RACED OUTSIDE, BUT
Debbie's car was gone. So Debbie did know the blond girl.

Back inside, Nancy found Juanita at the kitchen table giggling over a comic strip. “Did you see Debbie leave?”

“Uh-huh.” Juanita stretched and yawned.

“Who was with her?” Nancy asked.

“Nobody.” Juanita sipped her coffee.

“Are you sure?” The kitchen windows looked out on the yard and the parking lot.

“Sure I'm sure. Debbie headed out alone. Oh, breakfast's not until nine on the weekend.” She put her cup in the dishwasher and left.

Nancy was puzzled. How did Debbie sneak the girl past Juanita? Maybe Debbie's room would provide some clues. Nancy knocked on Debbie's door. No one answered and the door was locked—again. Nancy felt in her bathrobe pocket for a metal nail file. With the file she forced the lock open. Nancy went in and locked the door from inside.

She knew she had to work fast. The room seemed to be exactly the same. If the blond girl was crashing here, she was traveling light. No suitcase, duffel, or knapsack in sight. One desk was cluttered with notebooks, textbooks, and files. A mug with DEBBIE printed on the side was near the PC. The mug was full of pencils.

Nancy opened a manila envelope next to the PC. Inside was a computer printout of classes for Debbie Lakin and forms for fall registration.

Kate's registration packet, Nancy remembered. Nancy turned quickly to check the other desk, and her elbow knocked over the mug of pencils. “Shoot!” Nancy exclaimed:

Just then footsteps sounded in the hall.

“I thought you said Debbie left?” Rosie's voice floated through the closed door.

“She did,” Juanita said.

“Someone's in there!” Rosie sounded terrified. “Nancy said to be careful.”

Someone tried the door. “It's locked.” Rosie sounded relieved. “Probably just a mouse. Better get Buki back on mouse duty.” Nancy remained perfectly still until the laughter faded down the hall. Close call, Nancy thought, and straightened up the mug and put the pencils back.

Time was running out. Kate's desk was neat. The calendar was still turned to June. Nancy tried the drawers. “Yes,” Nancy cheered softly. Kate Robertson's registration packet was inside. Nancy riffled through it. She stopped when a familiar name caught her eye. Listed on a schedule of classes was Painting 204; Instructor, M. Jared. So Kate Robertson was registered, and someone else had showed up in her place.

Nothing more of interest turned up in the desk. Nancy scanned the room once more, convinced she must be missing something. She caught a glimpse of something white stuck between a footlocker and bed. She took a closer look. It was a small painter's canvas. She picked it up carefully. Her pulse quickened as she recognized herself in the gypsy costume she'd modeled for Michael's class. She touched a corner of the canvas with her pinky. The paint was still wet. The painting obviously belonged to the blond, the girl Michael said was Kate Robertson.

Nancy put the painting back and opened the footlocker. Inside was a small packet of art supplies. The shrink-wrap had been torn open, but someone had obviously tried to seal it again.

Then she turned her attention to a large newsprint drawing pad. She opened it. On the first page was a detailed sketch of
First Kiss.
When had Kate had a chance to see the painting?

Nancy was stumped.

She tore the sketch of
First Kiss
out of the pad. She might need evidence when she confronted Debbie. The sound of voices in the hall startled Nancy. She couldn't risk being discovered.

Poking her head out Debbie's open window, she saw the coast was clear and climbed out. “Ugh!” she grunted as her bare feet sank into the wet loam of the flower bed. She frowned. It hadn't rained in days. Then she remembered Rosie and Mindy having a water fight the day before with the garden hose. Using the shrubbery for cover, Nancy edged her way toward the back door. Glancing down at the ground, she saw a line of footprints. Someone wearing sneakers with a foot about the same size as Nancy's had sneaked through the bushes earlier. The trail led from under Debbie's window toward the parking lot. No wonder Juanita hadn't seen the blond girl—she must have gone out Debbie's window.

• • •

Nancy had made a date with Ned to go to the Climbing Wall. The new gym was sponsoring a competition, and Bryan was one of the contestants. After Nancy picked Ned up in her blue Mustang, she told him what she had learned.

“So Debbie is hiding this girl and allowing her to assume her roommate's identity,” Ned said thoughtfully. “This new girl must have sketched the stolen painting. But why?”

“Don't know yet.” She glanced at Ned and grinned. “Maybe you'd like to shut your window, Ned. Your hair looks like Debbie's friend's—it's sticking up in all directions.”

Ned ran a hand through his hair. “What else did you find out this morning?”

Nancy made a sharp left turn. “I talked to the guy at Marshalls who sold a rope yesterday.”

“What did he say?” Ned asked.

“Since the buyer paid cash, the clerk didn't have his name, but he said the guy was tall, muscular, with long sun-streaked brown hair, and he seemed to be an experienced climber. He bought a rope, a harness—the works. Oh, and a green headband and a purple windbreaker.”

“Colorful,” Ned joked. “But, Nan, long brown hair, tall, climbing experience describe a lot of guys.”

“Or it could be Bryan.” Nancy glanced at Ned. He was frowning. “Hey, I know!” he exclaimed. “Bryan always wears a gold earring. Did the customer have an earring?”

“I asked,” Nancy replied. “He couldn't remember an earring.”

“There it is.” Ned pointed to a green warehouse on their right with the Climbing Wall painted above the door. Nancy parked her car at the edge of the crowded lot.

“I also talked to Rosie Lopez this morning about that play she and Rina ushered for on Thursday night,” Nancy said, turning off the ignition. “The last act started at ten o'clock and lasted about an hour. Rosie saw Rina afterward, but not during the performance.”

“So you're thinking Rina could have had enough time to slip out, rob the museum, and return to the theater.”

They faced each other. “It's a possibility.” “And her motive?”

“Rina needs money for tuition,” Nancy said. “She is a good climber, Ned. I saw her move along tree branches like a monkey. She's Bryan's old girlfriend, and I bet she knows all about climbing gear.”

“And what does Jared think about all this?” Ned asked, staring out the windshield.

Nancy stopped a smile from forming. She detected a note of jealousy beneath Ned's casual tone. “I don't know. I haven't had a chance to ask him yet.”

Ned frowned.

Nancy gave a careless shrug. “I'll fill him in tomorrow at the gallery opening. All he cares about is getting his painting back.”

“Right.” Ned sounded skeptical.

When Ned opened the gym door a minute later, the roar of the crowd was deafening.

George had told Nancy the space was huge, but she was still amazed at the size as she and Ned wove their way through the crowd. Along one side of the mammoth building, artificial rock walls towered up to the arched ceiling. Craning her neck, Nancy could only see the top of the wall. The lower half was hidden behind a wall of spectators.

“Look, there's George!” Nancy pointed to the top of the crowded bleachers. George was jumping up and down, cheering a climber on.

“I bet Bryan's competing now.” Ned grinned. Ned found an open space against the wall. Nancy squeezed in next to him. It was a minute before she got her first glimpse of the climber.

He was as graceful as a dancer as he moved from hold to hold. Even from that distance Nancy could feel his determination as he clipped his rope onto the bolts that dotted the rock wall.

Nancy shielded her eyes against the glare of the overhead lights as the climber's whole body came into view. She couldn't see the color of his headband, but she'd know that hair anywhere. “It
is
Bryan!” she shouted over the roar of the crowd and grabbed Ned's arm. “He's really good.” Nancy turned and met Ned's shining eyes.

“Campus grapevine says he's one of the best.” Ned whooped and let out a huge cheer as Bryan pulled far ahead of his nearest competitor.

Nancy leaned back on her heels to see Bryan better. As he pulled himself toward the top of the wall and out of the glare of the lights, Nancy's heart sank. Bryan's headband was brilliant green.

Chapter

Ten

B
RY-AN!
B
RY-AN!
B
RY-AN!”

The chant started in a corner of the bleachers where George and the Omega Chis were sitting. As Bryan slapped the giant gold star painted on the top of the wall, the room roared. Only Nancy was quiet, her eyes fixed on Bryan's headband.

Bryan pushed off, dropping fast, kicking off from the rock a couple of times as he slid down. For a moment Nancy lost sight of him, then the crowd broke up in time for her to see him jump the last couple of feet to the floor. He threw his head back and pumped his fist in the air.

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