The Clue in the Camera by Carolyn Keene

Author:Carolyn Keene
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin

10

The Buddha Clue

“Hello. Hello. Pretty boy. Awwrrk!” The parrot kept up his squawking as Nancy silently pushed open the door. The apartment was quiet, and with the noonday sun streaming in through the skylight and the windows, it seemed a cozy, unthreatening place.

George tugged gently at Nancy’s elbow. “Are you sure we should go in if someone’s here?” she whispered. She knew how many times the police had warned Nancy against entering a burglary scene if there was any chance the criminal might still be on the premises.

Nancy weighed her decision. “We have every right to be here, George. Whoever else is here does not. Unless it’s Emily.”

“I don’t care how much right we have to be here,” George retorted. “I’m not walking in on some intruder.”

But Nancy stepped confidently into the room, and George followed, shutting the door behind them.

“Emily?” Nancy called, trying to sound cheerful and casual. “Are you home?”

The only answer came from Tripod. “Cake for Tripod. Cake for Tripod,” he chattered.

“Hold on, bird,” George told him. “We know you’re hungry. We’ll take care of you in a minute.” Nancy gave George a grateful glance, realizing that although she was afraid, she was doing her best to act as if everything was normal.

The girls searched each room of the apartment. They saw nothing out of order. Nancy began to wonder if Tripod was just talking from loneliness and hunger. Or maybe he’d somehow heard the girls before they reached the door of the apartment. But why had the apartment been unlocked? “All right,” she said. “Let’s hit the darkroom.”

Nancy opened the door to the darkroom—and screamed.

Peter Stine stepped out, a small smile on his lips. “Were you expecting Emily, girls?” he asked them.

“We weren’t expecting you,” Nancy said. She took a deep breath. “What are you doing here?”

“Yeah,” George spoke up from behind Nancy, trying to sound tough. “What are you doing here?”

Stine didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to unhook his jacket from the back of the darkroom door.

“Look around, ladies,” he said pleasantly. “You won’t find anything missing or damaged.”

“You know, you have a lot of nerve, breaking into Emily’s apartment,” Nancy said.

Stine shouldered his jacket and picked up his camera case, which was on the floor of the darkroom. “Let’s just say I know Emily is on to the same story I am.”

“That’s no reason to break into her apartment,” said George, unable to hide her anger.

“Listen,” Stine said, turning suddenly on the girls and pointing his finger at them. “I won’t let that woman steal my thunder on this story.” He closed the door of the darkroom and strode into the living room.

Nancy watched him for a moment, gambling with what to say next. “Mr. Stine,” she finally began, “how can Emily Foxworth get in your way if she’s missing?”

Stine ignored her. He had reached the front door.

“Or is Emily missing so that she can’t get in your way?” Nancy pressed.

Peter Stine yanked the door open, then spun around to face Nancy. His craggy face was flushed.

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