The Stolen Kiss Read Online Free PDF

knew was that Debbie was a suspect, as was Bryan. Both had opportunity. Nancy had no more questions for Debbie just then. She thanked her and left to find George.
    George was outside on the veranda fanning herself with the newspaper. Nancy suggested that they drop by the art museum to find out if there was any word on First Kiss. In the museum parking lot Nancy spotted the black sports car from the night before—its license plates read MORRISON.
    The two girls strolled into the Jared gallery, and Nancy saw that Dr. Morrison was not alone. A young man dressed in black jeans and a black T-shirt was talking agitatedly with the curator. He kept running his hands through his short black hair as he focused on the blank space on the wall.
    â€œThat’s him. That’s Michael Jared with Dr. Morrison,” Nancy whispered as she pulled George back into the foyer.
    â€œWhat a hunk,” George said, peering around the corner.
    Nancy giggled behind her hand. “You sound like Bess.”
    George pretended to be offended. “I’m just stating a fact. If Bess were here she’d have fainted, not spoken.”
    As Nancy moved into the gallery, Dr. Morrison spotted her. “Ah, Michael, here’s someone you should meet.” He motioned Nancy over to him. George followed. “This is Nancy Drew and her friend George Fayne.”
    Michael stared first at Nancy, then at George and then back at Nancy again. His clear blue eyes seemed to bore right through her. “Michael Jared here,” he said, putting out his hand.
    Nancy shook it. She realized he was probably twenty-five or six, but he could have passed for one of Ned’s classmates, even up close.
    â€œI’m sorry about your painting, Mr. Jared,” Nancy said. “Dean Jarvis asked me to help with the investigation—”
    Michael Jared’s thick eyebrows arched up and he stared harder at Nancy. Dr. Morrison cleared his throat. “Actually Ms. Drew here is quite a detective. Both the police and the dean have used her before to solve mysteries on campus.”
    The dark-haired artist’s expression shifted from confusion to respect. “Really? I assumed you were a student here.” He folded his arms across his chest. Nancy noticed he had a small rose tattooed on his right bicep. “I really appreciate your help. Any leads yet?”
    Nancy shook her head. “It’s a bit early for anything yet, Mr. Jared.”
    â€œMichael,” he corrected with a quick grin. It was such a disarming smile, Nancy had to smile back. “All this mister stuff makes me feel so old.”
    â€œDr. Morrison, you have a call on line two,” a female voice announced over the museum intercom. The curator excused himself. “Probably the insurance company,” he muttered.
    Nancy pulled a small notebook and pencil out of her backpack. “I wonder if you could tell me something about the painting—why someone would steal that particular one.”
    Michael shook his head ruefully. “Hard to say really. It is my favorite and one critic did call it one of my strongest.” He looked back at the empty space on the wall, and his expression was so wistful Nancy’s heart ached for him. “But then the same critic called that landscape over there a near masterpiece.” He sounded proud and a little embarrassed. “They could have taken that.”
    â€œNo,” George spoke up firmly. “It’s too big. The thief had to fit it out the skylight or the storeroom window. First Kiss was smaller.”
    â€œSo that’s how they broke in,” the artist said, looking up at the skylight, which was already neatly boarded up. Nancy and George began to fill Michael in on the details of the robbery as they knew them.
    He listened attentively to George, but kept catching Nancy’s eye. Michael finally turned directly to Nancy. “Sorry to keep staring at you, but I love your