The Stolen Kiss by Carolyn Keene

Jared wouldn’t steal his own painting. He’s got no motive.”
    â€œI could think of a few. . . .” Ned glared at Nancy. “Insurance fraud for starters. But motives are your department. Maybe when you stop making out with Michael long enough to get back to your case, you’ll be able to think of a few, too.”
    â€œThat’s unfair!” Nancy cried, her face red with anger. “I only hugged him, Ned. But if you don’t trust me, maybe we should forget it.”
    â€œSuits me fine,” Ned growled, and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
    â€œOkay!” Nancy shouted at the closed door. Then the reality of what had just happened hit her. Ned Nickerson had just walked out of her life.
    Nancy’s throat tightened and she felt as if she were about to burst into, tears. “Nancy?” Nancy hadn’t heard Michael come up behind her.
    Before she turned around to face him, she wiped away the tears that had started down her cheeks. Nancy didn’t cry much, but when she did, she cried in private.
    â€œYou okay?”
    â€œSure.” Nancy managed a weak grin. “I’m fine.” The glass partition probably cut out some of the sound from the studio, but still Nancy wondered exactly how much Michael had overheard. She started to blush.
    â€œI didn’t mean to cause trouble between you two.”
    Nancy took a couple of deep breaths. “Don’t worry, Michael, Ned and I will work this out,” she said, half trying to convince herself. She looked down at her costume. “I’d better change. There are some leads I want to follow up before tonight.”
    After Michael came out of his office with the dressing room keys, Nancy remembered something. “By the way, who’s the tall blond girl who came into class late?” she asked.
    â€œKate Robertson,” he answered. “Today was her first class. Why?”
    â€œI thought I recognized her, that’s all.” Nancy went to change her clothes, wondering why the girl was so familiar. She couldn’t remember ever meeting a Kate at Emerson. Debbie’s roommate was named Kate, but she wasn’t due back from Paris until next week. After Nancy locked the dressing room, she went back in the art studio to give Michael the key.
    For a moment Nancy stood in the door just observing him. Maybe Ned was right—maybe even Michael should be considered a suspect in the robbery. Insurance was a plausible motive, but Nancy couldn’t imagine him needing money. He was a household name at the age of twenty-six. No, Ned was dead wrong this time. Besides, Michael was proud of that painting. He wanted it to be seen.
    She handed him the key. “I’ve got to go now. But I promise I’m going to find your painting.” Michael’s blue eyes glowed and he took her hand. “I know that Nancy. If anyone can find First Kiss, it’s you.”
    Nancy left the art building and pondered her next move. Doubling back to the student union, she found a phone and called the galleries George had listed for her. So far no one had attempted to sell a painting resembling the First Kiss anywhere nearby. Next, she dialed the last sporting goods store on her list to ask if the store had recently sold any climbing ropes.
    â€œAs if I’ve got nothing better to do than check inventory for anyone who just happens to call,” the clerk grumbled into the receiver. “Why do you need to know?”
    Nancy forced herself to sound polite. “A friend’s in trouble.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone about it, but knowing who bought ropes from you might help solve this guy’s problems.”
    To her amazement it worked. “If you put it that way,” the clerk relented. “I’ll check my inventory.” He put Nancy on hold. A twangy country-western tune blared in her ear. “We sold