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Authors: Carolyn Keene

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BOOK: The Stolen Kiss
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“I hope not, but meanwhile, I need your help, George. This afternoon at the climbing gym, try to find out if Bryan still has his climbing rope. I'U check with the other people Weinberg mentioned, Michelle Vasquez and Mr. Salomon.”

“Okay,” George said, resigned. “But I bet you're wrong about Bryan.”

“Me, too,” Nancy admitted.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” George handed Nancy a slip of paper. “There are two more art galleries and one more sporting goods store—called Marshalls—in town,” George said. “And, by the way, Bryan gave me this information,” she added pointedly, and left.

Nancy spent the next hour following up on Michelle Vasquez and Mr. Salomon. Unfortunately for Bryan, she was able to cross them both off her list of suspects. Both had had the store send the rope as gifts to people out of town.

Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was almost three and had to race over to the art building. She felt a little nervous because she had never modeled before.

Michael met her at the studio door, holding a small unfinished painting. “Hello, there!” He flashed Nancy a quick smile.

Nancy's heart was pounding as Michael led her down a narrow hall to a dressing room. The artist took a hanger off the rack and handed a gypsy costume to Nancy.

Jared propped the painting he had brought with him up against the mirror. “Try to fix your hair as close as possible to the model's in this painting.”

“I'll try.” Nancy couldn't believe that her voice sounded so breathy.

“Nancy, don't be nervous, you'll do great.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. Then he was gone.

She stared at the closed door, amazed at her feelings. “Nancy Drew,” she scolded her reflection in the mirror. “What's the matter with you? There's only one guy in the world for you, and it's not Michael Jared.”

A few minutes later she walked into the studio. The students were already at their easels, and a chair covered with drapery stood on a little platform in the center of the room.

At the sight of Nancy, Michael's blue eyes widened. Nancy self-consciously smoothed the top flounce of her skirt.

“This is Nancy Drew,” Michael told the class as he led Nancy to the modeling stand. “She's filling in for Kelly today.”

Nancy followed Michael onto the platform. As he was arranging the drapery on the empty chair, she spotted Rina. Nancy smiled at her, but Rina pretended not to notice.

Michael told her to pose with one leg up on the chair and an elbow resting on her knee. Michael adjusted the angle of her head. This time Nancy couldn't pretend she didn't feel a thrill as he touched her. One of the students set a timer and the pose began.

After a few minutes Nancy realized that remaining still was harder work than she'd expected. As she was glancing at the students out of the corner of her eye, she took in Rina. The redheaded girl's mouth was pursed tightly as she glanced from Nancy back to her canvas and back at Nancy again. Nancy was pleased that Rina's apparent hostility seemed to have vanished. Nancy recognized the expression of pure concentration on Rina's face. It was the same sort of concentration Nancy felt when she was deep into a case.

Meanwhile, Michael was circling the room, stopping at each student's easel. He stood a moment behind Rina and frowned at her canvas. “No,” he said, just loud enough for Nancy to hear. “The color's off. Try this.” He picked up a brush and mixed some colors together on her palette. He was about to touch the brush to her canvas, when Rina turned on him. “Don't you
dare
touch my work.”

Michael immediately backed off. Rina's temper was beginning to impress Nancy.

The timer rang, and Michael told Nancy to take a five-minute break. Just then a tall thin girl with short, spiky bleached blond hair walked in. She carried a sketch pad and wore denim overalls and an Emerson College T-shirt. Nancy's first impression was that she seemed very young for college. Her second, even stronger, impression was that she had seen this girl before. But where?

With an adoring expression the girl followed Michael behind a glass partition in the corner of the room. Nancy watched as she handed him some papers. He signed one, then she signed another and came out. Michael then helped her set up an easel, and Nancy resumed her pose, wondering who the latecomer was.

After another half hour the students began packing up their supplies. Watching the latecomer, Nancy hazarded a smile. The girl's eyes widened, but she didn't smile back. She quickly packed her things and raced out of the room.

“Great job, Nancy,” Michael said, offering her a hand to help her off the platform. He held her hand a second longer than necessary, Nancy thought. There was a tense silence. Nancy was the first to break it. “Hard work.”

“I know.” He sat down on the platform and stared at the floor. “I worked really hard on that painting, Nancy.
First Kiss.”

Nancy wondered who the man behind that beautiful painting really was. She sat down next to him. He obviously needed to talk about his. painting and she needed to find out more about it.

“Tell me about the painting—knowing more about it might help me find it,” she said.

“What do you need to know?”

“Was it a painting of people you knew or models or what? Might one of them have had a motive to steal it?”

“Ah,” Michael said. “You're good at this.” He studied his hands. When he looked up his eyes were sad. “The girl isn't a model—she was someone I was very close to once. I tried capturing her many times on canvas, but
First Kiss
was the only time I succeeded. Now it's gone.”

Nancy impulsively reached out and touched his arm. Their eyes met. His eyes were filled with such sorrow Nancy thought her heart would break. Michael touched her face as if he wanted to kiss her. Instead, he pulled her into a close hug.

“Nancy, please find it,” he murmured.

The studio door creaked. Nancy slid out of Michael's arms and peeked past his shoulder.

She jumped up. “Ned! What are you doing here?”

Chapter

Six

W
HY AM
I
HERE
?” Ned gasped. “I was looking for you. Sorry if I've interrupted something.”

“It's not what you think—” Nancy cried.

“We were just talking,” Michael started to explain. “About the case. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause any trouble here.” . . . He rose and quickly disappeared into his office space behind the glass partition.

“I'm sorry, Ned. I know how that looked—my hugging Michael. But it really isn't what it seemed.” No matter what Ned might think, that hug had been innocent, consoling.

“I'm not that dumb,” Ned said, folding his arms. “Every girl on campus has a crush on that guy. But I didn't think you'd fall for his sensitive-artist act.” He punched a fist against the door frame. “I thought I meant more to you than that.”

Nancy glanced back at Michael, who was riffling through papers on his drawing table. “Ned Nickerson, you walked in here and saw me hugging Michael. Don't you hug your friends—like George or Bess? Michael's just a friend—”

“Since when?” Ned charged.

Nancy grit her teeth. “Since I took on this case and got to know him.”

Ned arched his eyebrows. “I thought
everyone
was a suspect until you found the guilty party.”

“Give me a break, Nickerson. Michael Jared wouldn't steal his own painting. He's got no motive.”

“I could think of a few. . . .” Ned glared at Nancy. “Insurance fraud for starters. But motives are your department. Maybe when you stop making out with Michael long enough to get back to your case, you'll be able to think of a few, too.”

“That's unfair!” Nancy cried, her face red with anger. “I only hugged him, Ned. But if you don't trust me, maybe we should forget it.”

“Suits me fine,” Ned growled, and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Okay!” Nancy shouted at the closed door. Then the reality of what had just happened hit her. Ned Nickerson had just walked out of her life.

Nancy's throat tightened and she felt as if she were about to burst into, tears. “Nancy?” Nancy hadn't heard Michael come up behind her.

Before she turned around to face him, she wiped away the tears that had started down her cheeks. Nancy didn't cry much, but when she did, she cried in private.

“You okay?”

“Sure.” Nancy managed a weak grin. “I'm fine.” The glass partition probably cut out some of the sound from the studio, but still Nancy wondered exactly how much Michael had overheard. She started to blush.

“I didn't mean to cause trouble between you two.”

Nancy took a couple of deep breaths. “Don't worry, Michael, Ned and I will work this out,” she said, half trying to convince herself. She looked down at her costume. “I'd better change. There are some leads I want to follow up before tonight.”

After Michael came out of his office with the dressing room keys, Nancy remembered something. “By the way, who's the tall blond girl who came into class late?” she asked.

“Kate Robertson,” he answered. “Today was her first class. Why?”

“I thought I recognized her, that's all.” Nancy went to change her clothes, wondering why the girl was so familiar. She couldn't remember ever meeting a Kate at Emerson. Debbie's roommate was named Kate, but she wasn't due back from Paris until next week. After Nancy locked the dressing room, she went back in the art studio to give Michael the key.

For a moment Nancy stood in the door just observing him. Maybe Ned was right—maybe even Michael should be considered a suspect in the robbery. Insurance was a plausible motive, but Nancy couldn't imagine him needing money. He was a household name at the age of twenty-six. No, Ned was dead wrong this time. Besides, Michael was proud of that painting. He wanted it to be seen.

She handed him the key. “I've got to go now. But I promise I'm going to find your painting.” Michael's blue eyes glowed and he took her hand. “I know that Nancy. If anyone can find
First Kiss,
it's you.”

Nancy left the art building and pondered her next move. Doubling back to the student union, she found a phone and called the galleries George had listed for her. So far no one had attempted to sell a painting resembling the
First Kiss
anywhere nearby. Next, she dialed the last sporting goods store on her list to ask if the store had recently sold any climbing ropes.

“As if I've got nothing better to do than check inventory for anyone who just happens to call,” the clerk grumbled into the receiver. “Why do you need to know?”

Nancy forced herself to sound polite. “A friend's in trouble.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I promised I wouldn't tell
anyone
about it, but knowing who bought ropes from you might help solve this guy's problems.”

To her amazement it worked. “If you put it that way,” the clerk relented. “I'll check my inventory.” He put Nancy on hold. A twangy country-western tune blared in her ear. “We sold a rope this morning,” the clerk announced, returning to the line several minutes later, “but that's the only one in the last month.”

“A credit purchase or cash?” Nancy asked, curious even though it had been bought after the break-in.

“It was a cash purchase.”

“Can you describe the buyer?” Nancy asked. “I wasn't working this morning—Randy was. But he's off now. He'll be here tomorrow morning, if you want to check with him then.”

Nancy felt exasperated. Every lead seemed to put her on hold. The campus clock's gonging made her realize she had to get back to the Theta Pi house soon to meet George. As she threaded her way across campus toward Greek Row, she reasoned that the rope that had been purchased earlier that day could be connected to the theft if the thief had needed to replace the stolen rope.

As she approached the Theta Pi house, she saw Brook, Chris, and Rosie seated under the massive oak tree in the front yard.

“What's going on?” Nancy asked, joining the group. Brook pointed at the roof and Nancy saw the sorority house cat crouched above one of the eaves, looking terrified.

“How'd Kabuki get up there?” Nancy asked.

Chris shrugged. “The real question is, how will she get down?”

“Rina, that's how,” said Rosie, motioning toward the big tree. Nancy peered up through the branches. Rina's red braid bobbed as she shimmied up the tree and out along a thick limb that hung out over the roof. “It's okay, Buki,” Rina called softly to the cat.

Rina finally reached the roof. Stretching out, she grabbed the cat and pulled her in close to her chest. Rina backed off the thick branch, then climbed down the trunk. Reaching the ground, she kissed the cat's nose, then passed Kabuki to Brook.

BOOK: The Stolen Kiss
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