Sisters in Crime by Carolyn Keene

that,” Kathy said as she met Nancy at the punch bowl.
    â€œThanks,” Nancy said, pouring herself a cup of the bright red punch.
    â€œBut your hair looks great no matter what you do to it,” Kathy added, tossing her own frizzycurls. “Are you sighing over any of these Zeta Psis?” she asked Nancy.
    Nancy shook her head and sipped the punch.
    â€œThat one”—Kathy pointed to a tall guy in a fraternity sweatshirt—“is in my calculus class. If I wanted him to be eternally grateful to me, I could share a little secret with him,” she said coyly.
    Nancy looked down into her punch cup. Although she disapproved of the cheating, she was not comfortable with having set up Kathy and the other girls to fail. She wondered if there was a way to undo her actions before she was caught on Monday.
    â€œWould you feel right telling it out of the sorority house?” Nancy asked Kathy as she considered how to handle the problem.
    â€œI never have before,” Kathy confessed. “But I never had such an appealing reason.” Turning to Nancy, she said, “Don’t worry, nobody will ever know who my connection was.” And Kathy headed over to the guy as Nancy watched.
    The dance floor was crowded as people paired off. It looked as though everyone had shown up.
    After drinking a cup of juice, Nancy went down the back stairway and headed to the study hall. There, on a Friday evening, with the sound of a loud band and a hundred people dancing overhead, sat Alice Clark, a book open in front of her.
    â€œHello, Nancy,” she said as if she had been waiting for Nancy to appear.
    â€œHello,” Nancy answered, walking over to Alice and looking down at the book she was studying. “English grammar?” Nancy asked.
    â€œLinguistics,” Alice said in her one-word style.
    Rather than ask more questions, Nancy sat down across the table from Alice and waited to see if she was going to volunteer more.
    â€œInteresting,” Alice said, still looking at her book, “how many different ways there are of communicating.”
    Nancy nodded. It was her turn to be quiet and let Alice speak at her own pace.
    â€œFor example, one can start a seemingly irrelevant topic,” Alice said, fingering the pages of her book, “and still communicate a specific message different from what one is discussing.” Still silent, Nancy listened as Alice added, “The purpose of which is to keep the speaker safe.”
    The pressure points in her physiology text, Nancy thought. It was a message to me. It was a piece of information Alice was giving me for a reason.
    â€œAnd after the message is communicated?” Nancy asked Alice.
    Alice said, “Then the speaker and the listener should make no further contact if they want to remain safe.”
    Nancy stood up and walked out of the basement study hall.
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    As Nancy reentered the packed dining room, Susan walked up to her. “I was looking all over for you,” Susan said. “Please try to let me know if you’re going to disappear. I’m jumpy tonight.”
    â€œOkay,” Nancy agreed. Then she motioned for Susan to follow her into the empty kitchen. Leaning against a cupboard, she whispered, “Alice Clark knows I’m investigating this case.”
    â€œShe told you that?” Susan asked, clearly shocked.
    â€œNot directly. But indirectly, and she gave me some information about how Rina was murdered. I’m convinced she did it on purpose to help me out.”
    Susan shook her head. “How did she ever discover that you were here to investigate the murder?”
    â€œI have no idea,” Nancy said. “And I don’t know when she figured it out, either.”
    â€œAlice Clark is one smart girl,” Susan said as the blaring music from the other room stopped. In a much quieter voice, Nancy said, “I’ll tell you the details later. But now I