Free The Stolen Kiss by Carolyn Keene Page B

us—you’d rather be rock climbing.”
    Bryan threw his hands up. “You’re jealous—”
    â€œJealous?” Debbie sounded flabbergasted.
    â€œOf George. We went to the Climbing Wall.”
    â€œGeorge? Nancy’s friend?” Debbie paused. Nancy winced. Then Debbie surprised her. “She’s nice, Bryan. More your type. I don’t mean to hurt you, but we just don’t have that much in common.”
    Nancy had heard enough. The conversation had nothing to do with her case. She turned to leave.
    â€œIt’s since the robbery that we suddenly don’t have anything in common—” Bryan said. Nancy froze in her tracks.
    â€œLet’s not get into that again. I’ve heard enough about the theft of Michael’s painting from Nancy. She’s been following me as if I’m a suspect—and I know she suspects you, too,” Debbie warned.
    Bryan narrowed his eyes. “Why do you say that?”
    â€œQuestions she’s been asking. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about the robbery now.”
    With that Debbie turned and walked off toward the kitchen. Nancy watched as Bryan marched right up to George and pulled her onto the dance floor. It was a slow tune, and Bryan wrapped his arms around George, pulling her close.
    â€œHey, I thought he was dating Debbie?” Ned’s voice made Nancy turn around.
    â€œNot anymore.”
    â€œThat was sudden.”
    â€œWasn’t it?” Nancy said, wondering what kind of person Bryan was. First, he dated Rina, then switched to Debbie. Then minutes after Debbie dumped him, he was coming on strong to George. Did he really like George? Or did he think by making friends with George he’d have an inside track into Nancy’s investigation.
    Ned didn’t give her much time to think about it. The music had changed and the band was playing a Charleston. “Let’s cut some rug,” Ned said, using twenties slang badly.
    Nancy blew out her breath. Part of her wanted to see where Debbie had gone. Another part wanted to hang out with George and Bryan to figure what Bryan was up to. Instead she opted to dance with Ned. “You’re on, Nickerson,” she said, pulling him onto the dance floor. Nancy let herself forget all about her investigation and threw herself into a wild Charleston.
    Ned matched his energy to hers and soon they were the only couple on the dance floor. The whole room was clapping and cheering them on. When the music ended, the crowd roared. Nancy sagged into Ned’s arms and grinned.
    â€œWe’re some team!” he shouted into her ear.
    Nancy was smiling so hard she thought her face might break. George, Chris, and Brook forced their way up to Nancy and thumped her on the back. “Great dancing, Nan,” George crowed. Nancy looked past George’s shoulder, expecting Bryan.
    â€œWhere’s Bryan?”
    â€œPhone call” was all Nancy heard. Did that mean he had made or received one? Nancy headed for the foyer.
    Bryan was on the hall phone, his back to the room. Nancy joined the line outside the ladies’ room. “All right!” he shouted enthusiastically into the receiver. He pumped one fist into the air. “Monday night. My future is made.”
    Monday—that was when Bryan was having dinner with art collector Ian Sanders. Was he planning to sell First Kiss to Sanders? Nancy hoped to hear more, but Bryan hung up and joined a group of guys on the porch.
    Hours later the band played its last song. The lights were turned out, but Nancy and Ned still swayed in the circle of each other’s arms. “I hate to spoil a good thing,” Ned murmured, “but in case Ms. Sherlock Holmes hasn’t noticed, the music has stopped.”
    â€œThe band, Ned, not the music,” Nancy whispered into the white linen of Ned’s jacket.
    â€œAnd to think,” Ned said huskily, “only this afternoon I thought I’d