Free The Stolen Kiss by Carolyn Keene

dance.” She gave Debbie a friendly poke in the ribs. “Half of us are going stag anyway. It’s getting late. Put it on.”
    Chris plunked herself down next to Debbie and unzipped the bag on her lap. Nancy gasped with the other girls as the lamplight glinted off the jade green sequins. Debbie colored with pleasure and started to slip the dress off its hanger.
    â€œOhhhh!” she screamed, and dropped the dress and hanger as if they were on fire.
    â€œYour dress!” Chris cried, jumping off the couch. The open garment bag slid off her lap and green sequins scattered over the carpet.
    Nancy picked up Debbie’s beautiful flapper costume. The dress dangled from the pink padded hanger like a bunch of glittery ribbons. Someone had taken a knife and slashed the dress to shreds.

Chapter

Eight
    W HY?” D EBBIE WAILED, COLLAPSING in a heap on the couch. “Why would anyone do this?”
    â€œWho hates you this much?” Nancy asked.
    Footsteps clattered down the stairs. “Hey, what’s going on down here?” George asked as she burst into the room. She was in her silver sheath. Trish was right behind her, an eye pencil in her hand. Only one of her large green eyes was made up.
    At the sight of the dress, George gasped.
    â€œI don’t believe this.” Trish took the dress from Nancy. “This time Rina’s gone too far.”
    â€œHold it, Trish,” Brook warned. “You have no proof.”
    â€œWho else hates Debbie?” Trish tossed the dress aside. “And who was here when I brought the dresses in? Rina.” She gave the belt of her blue-and-white robe a jerk.
    George’s eyebrows shot up. Nancy cautioned her with a glance. “Calm down, Trish,” Nancy said quietly. “Tell me exactly what happened with the dress.”
    â€œDebbie and I bought our dresses last week at a vintage shop off Main Street,” Trish said. “They needed to be altered. I picked them up this morning. When I brought them back, a couple of girls were here—”
    â€œWho?” Nancy asked quickly.
    Trish thought a minute. “Juanita and Mindy. I showed them the dresses. Rina walked in just then. She said she really liked Debbie’s dress and saw me leave it in the front closet.”
    â€œAnd when did you take the dress to your room?” Nancy asked Debbie.
    â€œDuring a break this afternoon,” Debbie told her. “Trish left a note on my door saying the dress was in the closet.”
    â€œSo anyone in this house could have read that note,” Nancy pointed out.
    â€œYes,” Trish admitted reluctantly, “but only Rina would want to hurt Debbie.”
    Chris blew out her breath and frowned. “I can’t imagine Rina doing this.”
    â€œMe, either,” Debbie said, her voice quavering. “Besides, I know she didn’t.” Nancy barely caught Debbie’s last words.
    â€œHow do you know?” Nancy asked quickly.
    â€œI just do.” Debbie blew her nose.
    â€œYou know who did this, don’t you?” Nancy’s question stunned the room.
    â€œOf course not,” Debbie snapped.
    Trish gazed at Nancy as if she were crazy. Nancy shrugged, but she was convinced Debbie was shielding someone. Rina? But why?
    Debbie began to sob. Brook put an arm around her to comfort her.
    â€œIt’ll be okay, Debbie,” Chris said. She picked up the box of her grandmother’s dresses. “You’re coming to that party tonight—no way you’re staying here alone. You can wear one of Granny Lula’s costumes.” Debbie raised her head.
    â€œHey,” Rosie declared, “sorority sisters help each other out.”
    â€œThanks, guys,” Debbie murmured.
    Nancy was frustrated by Debbie’s silence, but she was worried, too. “I don’t mean to be a party pooper, but this is a pretty violent practical joke.” She glanced at the dress. “Maybe we’d