The Stolen Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page B

coloring.”
    George’s eyes went wide, and Nancy felt self-conscious all at once.
    Michael laughed. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I need a costumed model to pose for my class this afternoon. My usual model is about your size and has strawberry blond hair like yours. This morning she called in sick. With all this commotion over the painting I haven’t had time to find anyone else. Would you consider posing for the class?
    â€œMe, pose?” Had Michael Jared actually asked her to pose for him?
    â€œOh, Nancy, do it!” George urged, her dark eyes shining. “You’ll hang in a museum.”
    â€œYou mean my picture may hang in a museum,” Nancy said. “And I doubt a student’s work would end up in a museum, but”—she turned to Michael and regarded him thoughtfully—“okay. I’d be honored.”
    After Michael told her the place and time for his class, she excused herself. “Dr. Morrison is probably off the phone by now, and I want to get a photo of the missing painting from him.”
    The receptionist told Nancy where to find Dr. Morrison. Nancy headed down a long tiled hallway lined with offices and closets.
    As Nancy approached Dr. Morrison’s office, she noticed the door was open. She could hear that he was still on the phone, so she slowed down. She didn’t want to interrupt his phone call. Without warning his voice rose, its tone desperate, almost shrill.
    â€œI know I’m late,” Dr. Morrison was saying. Nancy crept closer to the open door. Dr. Morrison fell silent a moment. “No. I am not backing out of it. Not at all.” His tone was still loud and desperate but very firm.
    â€œI’ll get the money,” he said. “Soon.”

Chapter

Four
    T HE RECEIVER WAS SLAMMED Down. Nancy stepped back quickly. Was Dr. Morrison in debt? Was he being blackmailed?
    The curator stormed out of his office, almost crashing into Nancy. “What are you doing here?”
    â€œI wanted to ask you something,” Nancy replied.
    Dr. Morrison took a deep breath. “Yes, Nancy, of course. Sorry I’m so jumpy—the theft and all. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
    Inside the office a group of photographs on one wall caught Nancy’s eye. They were all of Dr. Morrison in various exotic locales. There was also a photo of a new colonial-style mansion. Pretty pricey place for a curator on a college payroll, Nancy mused. She heard Dr. Morrison approaching and turned around.
    She greeted him with a smile. “Yours?” Nancy pointed to the picture of the mansion.
    â€œMy wife and I just built it outside of town.”
    â€œLovely,” Nancy said quietly, but her thoughts were racing. “I’ll get the money. Soon.” Those were his exact words on the phone. Then Nancy remembered that unlike Debbie or Bryan, the curator had an airtight alibi. He’d been at dinner with the dean when the museum was burgled. Unless he had an accomplice, Dr. Morrison had to be in the clear.
    â€œWas there something you wanted, Nancy?”
    â€œDo you have a photograph of First Kiss ?”
    Dr. Morrison extracted a small color print from a bulging file on his cluttered desk.
    Nancy caught her breath as she gazed at the photograph. The painting was of a young couple. The boy’s head was turned away from the viewer, but the girl’s face was clearly visible. She was blond and very young and was looking up at the boy. On her face was an expression of yearning, tinged with vulnerability. The artist had exactly captured the moment before a girl’s first kiss.
    Nancy studied the photo a moment, then slipped it into her notebook. “Do you have any ideas who might have stolen the painting?”
    He met her gaze straight on. “I don’t know anything. And I certainly don’t want to place any blame on anyone, but”—he hesitated a moment—“Debbie