Nancy, Bess, and George must find the truth behind a photographic mystery in this nineteenth book of the Nancy Drew Diaries, a fresh approach to the classic mystery series. Nancy and her friends are spending the weekend in a small mountainside town called Shady Oaks. The local museum is displaying a never-before-seen collection from famous nature photographer, Christopher DeSantos. So the usually sleepy town is now filled with tourists. But it’s not just the dramatic lighting of the old black and white photographs that people have come to see. Newspapers all over the country have picked up the story of two visitors who went missing in Shady Oaks only to turn up in the old DeSantos photographs, seemingly frozen in time. What’s more, there was a rumor that DeSantos was cursed by his former partner after a disagreement. Now everyone is wondering if the legend is real. Nancy, Bess, and George are convinced that there is another explanation to be found. But it quickly becomes clear that someone is making sure they don’t find it. Can these three teenage sleuths solve this mystery before it’s too late? Carolyn Keene is the author of the ever-popular Nancy Drew books. Chapter One: It’s Raining Suspicion CHAPTER ONE It’s Raining Suspicion “HEY, NANCY!” BESS CALLED TO me from across the street. “This is him, right? The photographer?” George and I made our way over to where Bess was standing. She was looking in the front window of an arts and crafts store, where there was a printout of a large black-and-white photograph. The photo was of a serious-looking man with heavy wrinkles, dark hair, and wide, light gray eyes. Or at least they looked gray, since the photograph had no color. “Right,” I said. “That’s Christopher DeSantos.” We were in the town of Shady Oaks, a drive of several hours from River Heights. It was fall and there were trees everywhere, shading the town with red, orange, and yellow leaves that were covering everything like one large umbrella. Lining the main street were lampposts, and each of them was draped with a banner for the Carlisle Museum and the new exhibit featuring pictures of Shady Oaks by the world-famous photographer Christopher DeSantos. DeSantos had grown up in town and spent his teenage years taking pictures. None of these photographs had ever been seen before. They had all been donated only recently by DeSantos’s granddaughter, who had lived here with her grandfather after his retirement. She had moved to Shady Oaks when she was only a child, over twenty years ago, but she had apparently never left. “He looks…,” began George, before eventually finding the right word. “Intimidating.” “It’s probably just the photograph,” said Bess. “If the lighting were different and if he was smiling, he wouldn’t look so…” “Frightening?” George tried again. “Well, yes,” said Bess. Bess and George were my best friends, but they couldn’t be more different. That much was clear just by looking at them. It was raining lightly in Shady Oaks and Bess had brought along a pair of polka-dotted rain boots, pulled up carefully over her jeans, and a matching polka-dotted umbrella. Her blond hair was tucked behind her ears and protected entirely from the rain. George, on the other hand, had thrown on an oversize green parka. She had pulled the hood down low over her forehead, but tufts of her dark hair still peeked out from underneath it and were slowly soaking up rainwater. Personally, I had opted for something more in the middle. I was wearing my red raincoat, zipped up to protect me from the wind, a warm cable-knit sweater, and a pair of boots. “So where to now?” said Bess, turning away from the window. “Should we find the museum?” “No way,” said George. “No museums until after breakfast.” “I agree,” I said. “We should definitely get some food first.” Truthfully, I was eager to find the Carlisle Museum and visit the new Christopher DeSantos exhibit. But we had driven to Shady Oaks and checked into our hotel pretty late last night. No restaurants had been open, and I would have felt bad making my friends wait to eat this morning. Especially since I knew neither of them were very interested in Christopher DeSantos, or even photography in general. We continued walking down the main street. Bess was trying to avoid puddles as she went. I was on the lookout for other potential museumgoers. Shady Oaks seemed pretty busy. Despite the rain and the small size of the town, there were actually a good number of people walking around. Many of the stores had window displays advertising the DeSantos exhibit, and most of the pedestrians were stopping to look at each one. I had to assume we were surrounded by tourists and DeSantos fans. George had fallen a few steps behind us. She had taken out her cell phone and was holding it up in the air as she looked for service. I could see the droplets of water already collecting on her phone screen. “No cell service!” she called to us. She sounded a bit