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Authors: Carolyn Keene

BOOK: The Stolen Kiss
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“Whoa, who's that driving?” Nancy asked.

“Rina O'Neill,” Debbie answered, and a second later a slender girl in black leggings and a black sleeveless tunic came around the side of the house. She wore a black beret pulled down at an extreme angle over her long red hair.

“Hey, Rina, how's it going?” Ned called out as he put Debbie's box down on the top step of the porch.

Keys in hand, the girl strode past them all without answering. She completely ignored Ned but managed to glare at Debbie. She unlocked the front door of the sorority house, walked in, and slammed the door hard behind her.

“What was that about?” Nancy asked.

Debbie plopped down next to her box. “Rina's got it in for me for a couple of reasons. She used to be Bryan's girlfriend—in high school—and then Bryan and I started dating over the summer, and now . . .”

“She blames you for breaking them up,” George supplied knowingly.

“Not that things are that great with me and Bryan, either . . ..” Debbie's voice trailed off. “He's a great guy, but we don't have that much in common.” She made a tripod with her elbows on her knees and dropped her chin into her hands as she stared across the broad tree-lined street. A moment later she continued. “He's the outdoorsy type. I'm more a museum person. While Bryan rock-climbed this summer, I taught art history at the McKinleyville halfway house for runaways—”

“You teach runaways?” Nancy's impression of Debbie changed as Debbie told them about teaching high school kids. Debbie became animated, sure of herself, and not at all like the scared little girl Nancy had glimpsed back at the museum.

“Maybe that's what you should do when you graduate,” Ned suggested. “Instead of being a curator.”

Debbie's smile flickered out. “As if I have a choice now,” she said bitterly. “No museum is going to hire a person who's been within a light-year of an art heist.”

Debbie stopped talking, and the foursome sat in silence a moment. Finally Nancy spoke up. “Debbie,” she said, “you mentioned Rina was angry with you for a couple of reasons. Bryan was one. What's the other?”

Debbie leaned back against a porch pillar. “Rina didn't win the Emerson art contest. I was one of the judges—Dr. Morrison and Michael Jared were the others.”

Nancy thoughtfully chewed on her lower lip as Debbie went on. “I've heard about how you helped the Theta Pis before. Please help me. If you don't clear my name, my career will be over. Please find that painting.”

“I'm sure going to try,” Nancy said. “If you remember something—no matter how silly it may seem—about tonight or about the painting, let me know.”

“I will.” Debbie rose, shoving her hands into the deep pockets of her silk suit jacket. “But I had nothing to do with the theft. You have to believe that.”

“I'll do my best to solve this mystery” was all Nancy could promise.

George picked up Debbie's box and followed her inside, saying she was ready for bed. As the door closed behind them, Ned took Nancy's hand and tugged her down the steps. “Where are we going?” Nancy whispered, not quite sure what Ned had up his sleeve.

“Remember—this is supposed to be
our
fun weekend,” he said. “And just because mysteries have a nutty way of tracking you down, that doesn't mean I'm going to lose out on the fun part. A pig-out at I Screams counts as fun—no?”

“Definitely!” Nancy lifted herself up on her toes to kiss him. They held each other a minute, then drew apart. Nancy searched Ned's eyes. All she saw was love. Still, she was worried. George's warning about taking Ned for granted had struck a nerve.

“Ned, how do you feel about my detective work?” Nancy asked as they turned the corner of Greek Row onto Emersonville's main commercial street.

Ned waited until they were in line at the icecream counter before he answered. “I could say I, don't care. Or that I think it's great—because part of me does—really.”

“But it bothers you,” Nancy realized as they moved up in the line. “You're disappointed I took on this case.”

His shoulders tensed up slightly. “Yes, I guess I am. I thought for once we'd have a weekend together without your running off every five seconds checking out some clue—” Ned shrugged, heaved a sigh, and looked down at Nancy.

“Oh, Ned. I'm sorry. I just didn't know how to turn it down.”

“I know.” Ned stepped up to the counter and ordered. He handed Nancy her frozen yogurt and grinned. “Let's just enjoy what time we do have.” As they headed back past the stately houses on Greek Row, he draped his free arm over her shoulder. “I guess it's my luck to have fallen for a girl who's got a really crazy talent for solving mysteries. It's probably part of why I love you.”

Nancy didn't hear what he said next. She leaned into his chest and gave a contented sigh. Ned had said the magic words. He did love her, and she loved him. What else mattered?

• • •

Nancy woke up with a jolt. For a moment she had no idea where she was. The sound of someone breathing across the room jarred her memory. It's Ned's fraternity party weekend. That's Chris Harper in the other bed, and I'm sharing her room. Nancy plumped up her pillow and closed her eyes to go back to sleep. She was startled wide awake by a noise.

Out of bed in a flash, Nancy tiptoed to the window, trying not to wake Chris. Looking out, she saw a shadowy female figure throwing pebbles at the house. It was probably a sorority sister locked out. After groping in the dark for her lightweight robe, Nancy threw it on over her T-shirt and headed downstairs.

She crept quietly past the original cook's room, which was now a bedroom, and noticed the light was on in there. When she reached the back door and opened it, the yard was empty. “Hello?” she called out softly. Nancy heard nothing except the chirp of crickets.

She looked up to the second floor. All the bedrooms were dark. Where had the girl gone?

Back inside, Nancy knocked at the door of the ground-floor bedroom. After a minute Debbie answered. “Nancy? What's up?”

“I saw someone in the yard. She was throwing pebbles at the house—I figured at your window. Was someone locked out?”

“No,” Debbie replied curtly. “I'd have heard—I've been up reading.” Debbie began to close the door in Nancy's face. “Look, it's late. I've got to get some rest, it's been an awful night.”

Before Nancy could respond, Debbie closed the door firmly.

Nancy was wide awake now. Quickly she sorted through the facts. If Debbie was awake, she had to have heard the pebbles hitting the house.

Why was she lying, and what had happened to the girl in the yard?

Chapter

Three

R
EADY?”
G
EORGE ASKED, POKING
her head into Nancy's room the next morning. Nancy was at the mirror, touching up her makeup before breakfast.

“Almost.” Nancy returned George's smile in the mirror. “You look great!”

George was wearing khaki shorts and a peach halter top that set off her creamy complexion. Nancy had chosen a short denim skirt and a pink tank top.

“Thanks. You, too,” said George.

As Nancy dabbed on lip gloss, she told George about the mysterious visitor the night before.

“Debbie's hiding something for sure,” George agreed. “But right now I don't care. I'm starving. Let's eat.”

Downstairs, Brook Albright, Rosie Lopez, and a couple of other sorority sisters Nancy knew from previous visits to Emerson were already at the huge dining room table.

“Over here!” Chris Harper, Nancy's roommate, yelled. “I saved you a couple of seats.”

Nancy grinned back at the tall dark-haired girl. “Great. Did you remember to save some of those famous Theta Pi biscuits for George?”

“The only reason I tagged along,” quipped George.

Chris laughed. “Don't say that so loud. The Omega Chi guys think you came for them and the party tonight.”

“Forget the boys, stick to the biscuits,” Brook joked with a toss of her wavy auburn hair. “More predictable.” She introduced herself to George and asked Nancy, “What brings you to Emerson this time?”

“Another case?” Rosie asked, pulling in her chair so Nancy and George could pass by and get to the sideboard. Nancy poured herself some coffee and selected a muffin from one of the serving plates.

“Yes and no,” Nancy said. “I came for the Roaring Twenties party at Omega Chi.”

“But her plans changed,” George said, heaping her plate with sausage and biscuits.

“Don't tell me,” Brook gasped. She tapped the copy of the local morning paper lying open beside her on the table. “The museum robbery.”

“And you're already in the middle of it.” Rosie sounded impressed.

“Guess I missed the scoop. I was asleep before you got in last night.” Chris slid her chair down to make more room for Nancy.

Nancy sipped her coffee. “What's the paper say?”

Brook frowned. “That a painting called
First Kiss
was stolen last night. But there aren't any pictures of the painting. Only of the gorgeous painter. Not that I'm complaining.”

Nancy and George laughed.

“Do you think Debbie knows about the robbery?” asked Rosie, biting into a muffin. “The Jared exhibit was Debbie's special project.”

At that moment Nancy heard footsteps behind her. Turning, she saw Debbie walk in, another sorority sister, Trish Hardcastle, following on her heels. To Nancy, Debbie looked exhausted. Her face was pale and drawn, and dark circles bruised the skin below her eyes.

“Did you know the museum was robbed, Debbie?” Brook asked.

“Yes,” Debbie said quietly. She took a plate and got in line at the sideboard.

From her seat at the table Nancy observed Debbie closely. She was surprised by how much food the petite girl heaped on her plate.

“Why, Debbie, I guess stress really perks up your appetite,” a cool voice said from the doorway.

Debbie's whole body stiffened. Brook and Rosie exchanged a glance. Nancy turned around. Rina was propped against the doorframe. She was dressed in skintight black leggings and a black tank top, and she was holding a large art portfolio at her side.

“I heard about the robbery, Deb. Too bad.” Rina strode into the dining room and grabbed an apple from the bowl of fruit on the table. “But I guess it was about time your luck ran out.”

“Rina!” Chris warned.

Rina gave a careless shrug and wandered out of the room. A moment later the front door slammed after her.

Debbie smiled wanly. “I'm not feeling well,” she said. “I think I'll eat in my room.” She hurried off.

“Big appetite for a sick person,” George whispered to Nancy. Nancy nodded. She thought about the mysterious visitor of the-night before and wondered if Debbie had had a guest for breakfast this morning.

“Rina's really getting out of hand,” Trish said, tossing back her blond pigtail.

“Just be patient,” Brook responded. “Rina's having a tough time right now. She hasn't paid all her tuition money and I know she's scared to death. The school won't wait forever for it.”

“Rina works super hard, too,” Chris said. “She has two jobs, plus classes. It doesn't leave her much time for fun.”

“Lots of us have jobs,” Trish countered defensively. “And, yeah, maybe her job with the food service is tough, but ushering? That's hardly even a job. Last week when we were all scrambling for EC tickets, Rina got into the concert for free.”

“Whoa!” Rosie protested. “I will personally testify that ushering can be hard work. Last night Rina and I ushered at this terrible experimental play. It went on forever and was boring.”

“Not to change the subject or anything,” Chris said, clearing her throat. “But what are you guys wearing to the party tonight?”

“Nancy rented outrageous twenties dresses for both of us,” George said.

“I heard from Trish that Debbie's got the most beautiful green sequined dress,” Brook informed them. “Trish says she's bound to win the best costume award.”

“That would be great—she needs something to cheer her up,” Chris said.

“Really,” Rosie remarked. “She's been talking about breaking up with Bryan lately.”

“Not her type, if you ask me,” Trish said. “Too much of a jock—she needs someone artsy—”

“Like Michael Jared.” Four girls giggled at once.

Nancy only half-listened to the girls' conversation, her mind on the case. Something about Debbie was not on the up-and-up. Nancy needed to talk to her more to figure out what.

After breakfast Nancy headed straight for Debbie's room. She knocked on the door. Leaning close, she heard shuffling noises inside, and then the door opened a crack. Debbie blocked Nancy's view of the room.

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