Free En Garde (Nancy Drew (All New) Girl Detective Book 17) by Carolyn Keene

a tug of sympathy, knowing that Damon and DeLyn were half orphans like me. But even so, I knew that my situation was different. I had had thewarmhearted Hannah Gruen to fill in for my mother. All the twins had was gruff, demanding Bela Kovacs.
    The Brittany home was a small, neat, white frame bungalow on a crowded block of small bungalows, some of them more run-down than others. “Was Mom working late tonight, Damon?” DeLyn asked as we pulled up to the curb.
    “I forget. I can’t keep track of her crazy work schedule,” her brother replied.
    The twins didn’t invite me to come in, but I switched off the engine and went up the walk with them anyway. I figured they’d have to let me inside once we got to the door. “Mom, we’re home!” DeLyn called out as she unlocked the door.
    “My, my, aren’t you home early?” a voice called out from a back room.
    Damon flashed DeLyn a fierce warning glare. I guessed he didn’t want her to tell his mother about the incident at the salle. “A friend gave us a ride,” DeLyn called back. “We didn’t have to wait for the bus, that’s all.”
    Once inside, I felt like I was in a museum, not a home. Every square inch of wall was occupied with framed award certificates and photos of the twins in fencing costume. Every spare shelf and tabletop was loaded with trophies. “Wow!” I exclaimed. “Betweenthe two of you, you must have won every prize at every tournament you ever attended.”
    Damon winced and turned aside. “I’m gonna take a shower,” he said abruptly. “My skin is still stinging.” He crossed the living room in two strides and disappeared.
    “I’ll be right back,” DeLyn murmured, looking anxious. She hurried after her brother, leaving me in the living room alone. Unfortunately, she carried her equipment bag with her. How was I going to get a look at that ammonia-tainted mask?
    At least there was plenty to look at while I waited. Some of the photographs showed DeLyn and Damon as kids, clutching trophies and grinning. Bela Kovacs appeared in a lot of those early pictures, beaming as he posed with his prize students. The older they got, the less often Bela was in the photos. And, I began to realize, as they got older more pictures featured DeLyn, not Damon. I began to read the brass plaques on the trophies and medals. In recent years DeLyn’s trophies outnumbered her brother’s.
    “We sure have a lot of hardware here to look at,” I heard Mrs. Brittany’s voice behind me. I turned around and smiled. A short, plump woman, Mrs. Brittany was still dressed in her nurse’s uniform—not the crisp starched white of a registered nurse, but theblue and white stripes of a less trained (and not as well paid) practical nurse. She came shuffling into the living room, walking as though her feet hurt. I know how much time nurses spend on their feet; I felt bad for her, watching her slowly make her way over to an armchair.
    “The twins are really champions, aren’t they?” I replied.
    “Oh, yes, I’m mighty proud of them,” Mrs. Brittany said with a huge grin. “Are you one of their fencing friends?”
    “Sort of,” I said. “I met them at Salle Budapest. But I’m not a fencer myself; I was just there with one of my friends. My name is Nancy Drew.”
    “Pleased to meet you, Miss Drew.” Mrs. Brittany waved, but she didn’t get up from her chair to shake hands. Sitting down was too much of a relief, I guessed.
    DeLyn popped back into the room, giving me frantic looks and holding a finger to her lips. Obviously she didn’t want me to tell her mother about Damon’s accident. Glancing over at Mrs.Brittany, weary from her extra shifts, I decided to follow DeLyn’s advice, at least for the moment. “I was just admiring your trophies, DeLyn,” I said. “Do you and Damon keep a running score of who has the most?”
    DeLyn flinched. Clearly I had hit a sore spot. Well,good—sometimes hitting a sore spot can make people tell you things you need to know.