Don’t Look Twice by Carolyn Keene Page A

her.
    She tiptoed onto the Oriental rug covering the hall floor. Standing still, she listened for voices. She heard them at the end of the hall, inside Jonathan Mason’s office.
    At first the voices were muffled and indistinct, but Nancy could tell they were arguing. She moved closer to the door and soon began to make out the words.
    â€œI promised to help you, but you have to listen to me,” Bernard was saying forcefully. “I know it’s wrong, but think of what’s at stake. We have no choice but to follow their instructions. Meetme back here at twelve-thirty A.M. and we’ll get the painting.”
    â€œThere’s got to be another way,” Mr. Mason argued.
    â€œThere isn’t,” Bernard replied. Then he added in a harsh voice, “Unless, of course, you don’t ever want to see your daughter again!”

Chapter

Eleven
    N ANCY STOOD GLUED to the floor. Mr. Mason was being blackmailed with his daughter’s life!
    Whoever had kidnapped Denise was apparently holding her for ransom, in exchange for one of the paintings at the gallery.
    Nancy’s thoughts immediately flew to The Young Boy. Was that the one? she wondered. Martha had tried to take it. Was that because she knew it was valuable? She didn’t seem to think highly of Hans Pieters’s paintings as a whole.
    Well, at least Nancy could rule out Bernard as a suspect. He was on Mr. Mason’s side, so he couldn’t be one of the kidnappers.
    Suddenly Nancy heard footsteps approaching the door. Wildly she looked around for a place to hide. There was only the office next door.
    It was unlocked. Nancy slipped in and eased the door closed behind her. It clicked shut just before she heard Mr. Mason and Bernard walk past on their way to the staircase.
    She leaned against the door to catch her breath and glanced around the room. It contained row after row of file cabinets.
    Perfect, Nancy said to herself. It was a great opportunity to check the Hans Pieters file. Maybe there was something in it to help her figure out who wanted one of his paintings badly enough to kidnap for it.
    She opened the drawer marked Current and Upcoming Shows. The Pieters file was thick. There had been a lot of mail back and forth. The paintings had been due to arrive three weeks earlier, but a mix-up at the museum in Holland had held them up. Bernard had sent out several frantic telegrams, copies of which were in the files. Nancy had to smile at some of them. Bernard hadn’t struck her as such a worrywart.
    In the back of the file was an insurance form listing all the paintings and how much each was worth. Nancy scanned the list. The paintings weren’t priced particularly high, and The Young Boy wasn’t the most valuable of the lot, either.
    She thought about how Martha had hidden the painting in the storage room closet. Why? What was so special about it? Or was Nancy on the wrong track altogether?
    The one thing Nancy knew was that a fewquestions would be answered at twelve-thirty. And she would be there.
    Glancing at her watch, she noticed that it was already ten forty-five. The gala was only supposed to go till eleven. She had to sneak back downstairs and find Ned and the others. If she was going to remain inside until twelve-thirty, she needed someone outside to make sure she could get out then.
    Nancy made her way down the sweeping staircase and into the ballroom. Only a handful of people were still there. She walked through it and into the adjoining room. Ned, Martha, and Tim Raphael were sitting against one wall, deep in conversation. Dave and George were standing together in front of one of the paintings.
    â€œNancy!” Ned said, standing up. He looked relieved to see her.
    â€œHi!” said Nancy. “Ned, come here. I want to show you something.” She took his hand and practically dragged him into the ballroom.
    â€œYou have to cover for me,” she said as soon as they were out of earshot of anyone