Stop the Clock (Nancy Drew (All New) Girl Detective Book 12) Read Online Free Page B

children’s activities.”
    “Nancy, you and Ellis go ahead and tell everyone what you want them to do,” Bess said. “The rest of us will get the pads and pencils.”
    “Thanks, Bess,” I said.
    Ellis and I headed toward the crowd of people all pointing at the huge hole in the wall of the library. “Let’s talk to Mr. Nickerson first,” I said. “Since he’s used to doing newspaper stories, I doubt if he’ll say no when we ask him to write down his favorite memories of the library clock.”
    “Good thinking, Nancy,” Ellis said. “When the rest of the people see what he’s doing, they may be more willing to do the same thing.”
    I hoped so. “Mr. Nickerson!” I called.
    Mr. Nickerson looked up. “Oh, hi, Nancy,” he said. He nodded toward the hole in the library wall. “Isn’t this just awful? Such a tragedy.”
    “It is,” I said, “but I’m sure it’ll return soon.”
    “Let’s hope so,” Mr. Nickerson said.
    “With Nancy Drew on the case, it’s a done deal,” Ellis said.
    “Oh, I’m sorry!” I said, remembering my manners. “Mr. Nickerson, this is Ellis Lamsley, the new librarian.”
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ellis,” Mr. Nickerson said.
    “The pleasure is all mine,” Ellis said. “I’m a big fan of your newspaper.”
    “Thanks,” Mr. Nickerson said.
    “When I read your editorials about the president and Congress, I don’t feel as though I’m in a small town,” Ellis said. “They’re more like something you’d find in one of the Washington D.C. newspapers.”
    Mr. Nickerson smiled. “Oh, really? Well, I’m glad I haven’t lost my touch.”
    Ellis looked puzzled.
    “The Nickersons used to live in Washington,” I said. “Mr. Nickerson was a very famous investigative reporter.”
    Ellis looked impressed.
    “Mr. Nickerson, as you know, the library’s seventy-fifth anniversary is coming up,” I said, “and I’m the chair of one of the celebration committees.”
    Mr. Nickerson nodded his head toward the hole in the wall. “Well, there’s going to be something important missing from the celebration, isn’t there?” he said.
    I nodded. “That’s why I thought I’d get as many people as possible to write down what the library clock means to them, and I wanted you to be the first,” I said. “Would you be willing to do that?”
    “Of course,” Mr. Nickerson said. “I’m embarrassed to admit, though, that I’m here without my reporter’s notebook. Do you have anything—”
    “Here we are,” Bess said, walking up to us. Deirdre and George were right behind her, their hands full of pencils and spiral notebooks.
    I took a set, and handed it to Mr. Nickerson.
    “Ned was fascinated with the library clock when he was a boy,” Mr. Nickerson said. “It was similar to the one in Washington that helped him first learn how to tell time.”
    “I didn’t know that,” I said, smiling.
    “Oh, yes,” Deirdre said. “It’s such a cute story.”
    We all turned and looked at her.
    “What?” Deirdre said.
    While Mr. Nickerson wrote down his clock story, the rest of us circulated through the crowd, asking other people to tell theirs. I kept myself as far away from Deirdre as possible.
    As we had expected, some people declined our request—but many others weren’t so shy.
    Suddenly I spotted Evaline Waters at the edge of the crowd. She was wiping her eyes with a dainty handkerchief. I hurried over to her. Ms. Waters is the first librarian I ever knew, and she’s still my favorite. I miss having her at the River Heights Public Library. She’s now retired, and lives in a little house just a few blocks from the Mahoney Library. She must have heard the noise, and come by to see what the hubbub was about.
    “Ms. Waters!” I called, walking up to her.
    Ms. Waters looked up. “Oh, Nancy, this is such a tragedy! I just don’t know what to—”
    “Pardon me—I have an announcement to make!”
    I turned around. An elderly man was standing at the edge of