Sisters in Crime by Carolyn Keene Page B

can finally get into Peterson’s office—maybe there I’ll find the information we need,” Nancy said, trying to sound hopeful.
    â€œWhat about Fran Kelly and Jan Miller?” Susan asked. “They’ve been so cruel to you.”
    Nancy shook her head. “I’m starting to think that’s just Fran’s nature—she’s jealous—and somehow she convinced Jan not to like me.” Nancy crossed her outstretched legs at the ankles. “Maybe all these aggressive people are a smokescreen, keeping me from seeing someone not so obvious.”
    Susan looked at Nancy’s determined face as Nancy continued, “Someone who could be in the background. Someone,” Nancy said, “like Alice Clark.”
    â€œWhere are you going now?” Susan asked as Nancy got up from the bed and pulled a bright purple sweatshirt over her short-sleeved shirt.
    â€œDown to the study hall,” Nancy replied with a smile.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    Alice Clark was sitting—just as Nancy thought she would be—in her regular seat at one of the long tables.
    â€œCongratulations,” Nancy said out loud, since they were the only two people there.
    Alice looked up from the large book in front of her, which Nancy noticed had diagrams of the human skeleton. “Thanks,” she said, putting the top on her yellow pen.
    â€œAnatomy?” Nancy asked, standing next to Alice.
    â€œPhysiology,” Alice said.
    Alice’s answers were always only one word. Nancy wondered if it was going to be possible to get into a more extended conversation with this very private person.
    â€œDo you mostly study science?” Nancy asked.
    â€œI’m premed.” Alice nodded.
    â€œThat must be time-consuming,” Nancy said, sitting down across from Alice.
    â€œI like it,” Alice said. Leafing through her physiology book, she found a page that showed a large drawing of the musculature system. “See these points?” she asked Nancy, pointing to two spots in the neck. “If you press exactly there, you can make a person pass out cold.”
    â€œDid you learn that in physiology?” Nancy asked innocently as Alice slowly closed the book. Nancy knew very well about the pressure points in the neck.
    â€œIn judo,” Alice answered, looking directly at Nancy.
    â€œI study karate,” Nancy said, meeting Alice’s gaze.
    â€œI wondered,” Alice said as two freshman walked into the study hall laughing. Seeing Nancy and Alice, they lowered their voices and put their books down on the back table.
    Alice took the top off her highlighting pen and once again began reading the text in front of her.
    â€œSee you later,” Nancy said, standing up.
    As she headed back up the stairs, Nancy tried to sort out what she had just learned. Alice wastelling her something, she knew, something important about those pressure points.
    Was she describing to Nancy how Rina Charles was killed? Was Rina unconscious before she was thrown into the ocean? And if that was the case, how did Alice know it?
    Was this a warning of some sort? Nancy wondered. Was the quiet, unassuming Alice Clark a murderer?

Chapter

Thirteen
    I N HONOR OF Valentine’s Day, Nancy put a red belt on over her denim dress and folded a white lace hanky into her breast pocket when she dressed on Friday morning.
    She had not sent Ned a card, and the two-hour time difference made it too late to call him. He’d be in class already. But tonight, Nancy thought, smiling at the picture of Ned she had taken from her wallet, I will call my number-one valentine.
    Putting the photograph away and looking in the mirror, Nancy brushed her hair and then picked up the car keys Susan had left for her. It was only eight-thirty in the morning and Susan was still sleeping.
    Nancy avoided the dining hall and hurried outside to head to the accounting offices at 4846 Thirty-fifth Street.
    Counting on the likelihood