The Stolen Kiss (10 page)

“Way to go, Barbour!” Ned yelled.

By now other climbers had reached the top and were rappelling down, but Bryan had won, no contest. Nancy gazed up at George. Even from a distance Nancy could see that her friend was grinning from ear to ear.

Nancy wished for once in her life she weren't a detective. She was tired of discovering facts that could hurt her dearest friends.

Ned stopped clapping and scooped Nancy up in a big hug. “I told you he's the best.” After Ned met Nancy's gaze, he slowly put her down, searching her eyes the whole time. “What's wrong?”

“Ned,” Nancy shouted over the roar of the crowd. “Bryan's headband. It's green!”

“So?” Ned shouted back. “Lots of people wear green headbands. It's just a coincidence. If not, Bryan will be able to explain.”

“Maybe he will,” she conceded, though her suspicions about Bryan were growing stronger.

When the competition was over, Bryan and a small-boned, dark-haired woman were declared the winners, each of them coming forward to receive a trophy.

“I'm glad we got here in time to see Bryan climb,” Ned said excitedly as they made their way over toward Bryan.

Nancy nodded absentmindedly and waved at Bryan, who was walking away from George with a white-haired woman.

“Wasn't Bryan outrageous?” George was beaming.

“Great,” Ned agreed.

“He has to do an interview for a climbing magazine,” George said, all smiles. “He said he'd catch up with us at the Waterside Inn.”

Soon Nancy, Ned, and George were headed toward the small restaurant outside of town. When they sat down outside at a redwood table on the deck, Nancy recognized some other climbers at the salad bar.

“Isn't that Dr. Morrison?” George tapped Nancy's wrist. Nancy turned. The museum curator was pushing his chair back from a table nearby. A thin, tanned man dressed in chinos and deck shoes was with him. Dr. Morrison smiled at Nancy cordially but didn't stop to talk.

A minute later Nancy spotted Bryan through the white trellis that bordered the deck. “Bryan's already here,” Nancy announced.

George waved, but Bryan didn't see her. He headed straight for Dr. Morrison's friend. The two talked animatedly while the curator listened.

“Who's that with Dr. Morrison?” Nancy asked.

Ned shrugged. “Never seen him before.”

When Bryan finally moved out onto the deck, Nancy could see his gym bag, which was slung over one arm. It was open and the sleeve of a purple windbreaker poked out. Nancy tensed as a cheer for Bryan went up from climbers at the salad bar.

“All right, Bryan,” Ned joined in.

Nancy was startled by Ned's enthusiastic greeting. Was Ned blind? Didn't he see that purple windbreaker?

A green headband might be written off as coincidence, but a green headband
and
a purple windbreaker? Nancy was certain now that Bryan was the guy who had bought the rope and other climbing supplies at Marshalls on Friday.

“That was Ian Sanders with Dr. Morrison,” Bryan told them when he sat down. His cheeks were pink from excitement and his hair wet from a shower. “You remember,” he told George in an excited voice, “the art collector I crewed for last year.”

While they ate, Nancy wondered about the friendship between the museum curator and the collector. Did their relationship somehow connect to her case? Bryan might be able to shed some light on that. But now she had something else to ask the climber. She waited until they were having dessert.

“Bryan, why did you buy two climbing ropes in the last month, first at Outdoors Unlimited and then at Marshalls?”

Bryan's jaw dropped. “How do you know that?” Before Nancy could answer, he heaved a huge sigh. “Who am I kidding? It's your job to figure things out. I thought I was being framed. I needed new gear to show if anyone asked. Besides, I needed equipment for the contest today and for Indian Rock.”

“Framed?” George repeated, stunned.

“The night of the robbery, when I saw that climbing gear, I was pretty sure it was mine,” Bryan said, speaking rapidly in a low voice. “So when I got home from work Friday morning, I checked my Jeep, where I leave my gear. Someone had sliced through the canvas top of my Jeep and stolen my equipment.” Bryan looked from Nancy to Ned to George and back to Nancy again. He sounded a little desperate as he continued. “Don't you see? The thief used my equipment to break into the museum.”

“Where do you park your Jeep?” Nancy asked.

“Behind Omega Chi, and at the museum when I'm working.”

“Did you report the break-in to the police?” Nancy watched Bryan carefully.

“No.”

“Why not?” George cried, putting her hand on his shoulder and forcing him to meet her eyes.

“Who'd have believed me?” Bryan challenged. “Put two and two together. I was locked in a shed while
my
climbing gear was used to rob the museum. Sooner or later the police would have to conclude I was the thief. My friends don't believe me—why should the cops?”

“You've got a point,” Ned said grimly.

“You have to tell the police,” Nancy said firmly. Ripping a sheet out of her notebook, she copied down Sergeant Weinberg's number for Bryan. Reluctantly he took it and put it in his pocket.

After paying the bill, they silently trooped out to the parking lot. Bryan showed Nancy the slit in the black canvas top of his Jeep. Not sure what she was looking for, Nancy examined the tear. Bryan seemed to be telling the truth. But he could have slashed the top himself to support his story.

George rode back to campus with Bryan, and Nancy and Ned headed back alone. Neither of them felt like talking. When Ned got out of the car in front of Omega Chi, he walked around to Nancy's open window and leaned in. He cupped her chin in his hand. “Nan, I'm worried about Bryan, too,” he said softly, “but I trust you. If Bryan's guilty, you'll prove it. But if he's innocent, you'll find the real thief and he'll be in the clear.” Ned kissed the tip of Nancy's nose. He smiled, but the expression in his eyes was a little sad. “You look tired,” he said tenderly. “Even great detectives need their sleep.”

Parking the Mustang in the Theta Pi driveway a few minutes later, Nancy looked for Debbie's white Subaru. It wasn't in the lot, and there was no light on in her bedroom. Were Debbie and her mystery friend still out together? If so, where?

That night Nancy fell asleep thinking about her next moves. She had to search Bryan's room and confront Debbie about that girl.

• • •

“Nancy, wake up.” George shook her hard.

Nancy opened her eyes. The light was dazzling and George was smiling. Nancy rubbed her eyes with her fists. “What's up?”

“Someone phoned Debbie. The person left
First Kiss
in the college chapel. She said she'll meet us there.”

Nancy was already in motion. After pulling on jeans and a T-shirt, she dialed Sergeant Weinberg and relayed the information.

Debbie was already at the chapel searching behind the altar. Sun flooded through the stained-glass windows casting a red and blue glow on Debbie's blond hair. “Who called?” Nancy asked.

“I don't know—I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman. The person said the painting was here and hung up.” Debbie seemed frantic.

“We'll split up to search,” Nancy directed.

Nancy took the front, George the side aisles, Debbie the back. Within minutes Nancy spied something under the third pew. She reached for the package and tore off the brown paper. “I found it!”

She held the painting up to the light and caught her breath. Michael must have really loved this girl, she thought.

“Why did someone steal it just to bring it back?” George asked. She stared quietly at the painting. “It's wonderful. It's what being in love feels like,” George said.

“I don't believe this.” Debbie touched the painting with reverence. “This whole awful nightmare is finally over.”

As the three girls were gazing at
First Kiss,
Sergeant Weinberg rushed in. Nancy handed him the painting.

Nancy sat down in the first pew, staring at the colorful mural above the altar. Stealing a painting only to return it made no sense—unless Nancy was closing in on the culprit and whoever it was was panicking. Nancy had turned up the heat on just one suspect so far: Bryan.

As Sergeant Weinberg interviewed Debbie, Nancy listened intently, hoping for a new lead. But Debbie only repeated her story of the anonymous caller.

“I'll return the painting to the museum immediately,” the police sergeant told the girls.

“Isn't it wonderful? The painting is back. Now you can stop investigating.” Debbie flashed Nancy a sunny smile.

“No way.” Nancy slid out of the pew. “The painting's back, but a crime was committed. And I'm going to keep looking for the thief.” Nancy watched Debbie's smile fade.

“You drove away from the Theta Pi house Saturday morning with a blond girl in your car, Debbie,” Nancy pressed on. “The same girl who posed as Kate Robertson in Michael's class. You lied when I asked about her before. Who is she?”

Silence.

“Who is she?” Nancy repeated.

“I can't tell you, Nancy.” Debbie's voice dropped to a whisper. “But I swear she's got nothing to do with
First Kiss.”
After turning abruptly, Debbie ran out of the chapel.

• • •

“I've never been to an opening before,” Ned confessed to Nancy that afternoon. “Are they always this crowded?” he asked, looking around the contemporary art gallery of the Emerson museum.

“Michael's pretty famous,” Nancy reminded him. “And all that publicity about the theft probably helped draw a crowd.”

“Amazing how many people are dressed in black.” Ned looked down at his own tan slacks and teal blue tie.

“Makes you feel sort of out of place.” Nancy giggled and touched the skirt of her long floral print dress. “Michael's fashionable friends from New York must have turned up. They always wear black.”

“None of them compares with you,” Ned whispered. “You're the most beautiful girl in the room.”

Nancy colored with pleasure and-took Ned's hand between both of hers. “Not quite,” she said and pulled him over to the far wall where the throng of people was thickest. “Look at her.” Nancy pointed to the girl in
First Kiss.

Ned studied it. “I don't know much about art,” he admitted, “but it's a beautiful painting. No wonder someone stole it.”

“But why did he or she bring it back in time for the opening, Ned?” Nancy asked in a low voice as they headed for the buffet table to get a soda.

Near the gallery entrance Nancy spotted George and Bryan. They were talking with Ian Sanders. Nancy was surprised to see Rina hovering near them. But then she realized Rina's white jacket and black pants was a uniform. Rina was working for the campus food service catering the event.

Ned tapped her elbow and handed her a cola. “I wonder if she got her job back.” Nancy followed his eyes. Debbie was standing next to
First Kiss,
taking in the crowd. She seemed to be excited and looked very pretty in a pale pink suit.

“Dr. Morrison has no reason not to hire her back—unless of course we find out she's the thief after all.”

“Nan, you don't really believe that?”

Nancy laughed. “Honestly? No. But I can't completely rule her out. We've only her word about the anonymous phone call. Maybe she returned the painting—maybe she figured I found some other incriminating evidence in her room the other day. . . ” Nancy paused to think. She was pretty sure she had left the room exactly as she had found it.

Suddenly a light round of applause rippled through the gallery. Nancy peered over Ned's shoulder to watch Michael walk in. He was dressed in his usual black T-shirt and black jeans. He looked right past Nancy because he had eyes only for his painting. He finally stopped in front of
First Kiss.

Nancy watched his face light up in an incredible smile. He seemed to drink in every detail of the painting. Then his expression changed abruptly. His back stiffened. He swayed and grabbed the nearest person, Debbie. Clutching her arm, he cried, “This is not my
First Kiss.
This painting is a forgery!”

T
HE SILENCE THAT GREETED
Michael's outburst was complete. When the gallery finally exploded with sound, the noise was deafening. Everyone pushed forward to see the forgery up close.

Michael seemed to be stunned as he stood stock still holding on to Debbie's arm. Finally his eyes sought out Nancy, who dropped Ned's hand and hurried to Michael's side.

“Nancy!” Michael grabbed both of Nancy's hands. “Tell me this isn't happening . . ..”