Dare to read: Нэнси Дрю и Братья Харди
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ПРИЯТНОГО ЧТЕНИЯ!
Carolyn Keene
Nancy Drew Mystery Stories: Volume One Hundred-Ten
The Nutcracker Ballet Mystery
Copyright, 1992, by Simon & Schuster
An evening of ballet leads Nancy into a dance with danger! Madame Dugrand’s Dance Academy is in rehearsal for The Nutcracker Ballet, and it could be a huge hit this year. Shana Edwards, a recent graduate who has made a big splash in New York, is returning to River Heights to star in the show. But the closer the dancers get to showtime, the clearer it becomes that the stage is set for disaster.
Someone is determined to bring the production down before the curtain goes up. Theft and arson threaten to darken the theater and doom the dance. And Nancy will have to conduct her investigation with extreme precision and agility: one false step, one wrong move, and The Nutcracker could come to a swift and bitter end.
Ticket to Trouble
“I just love The Nutcracker Ballet!” George Fayne declared. Opening a copy of the River Heights morning newspaper, she showed her best friend, Nancy Drew, the ad for the ballet. It was being performed by Madame Dugrand’s Dance Academy, a local ballet school.
“I’m glad we’re getting a chance to see the performance this year,” George added as she pulled off her lavender ski hat and shook out her short dark curls. “Remember when we danced in it?” she asked Nancy.
“I sure do,” Nancy said, a smile on her face. “It must have been about eight years ago. Whenever I think of The Nutcracker, all I remember is Bess tripping over a mouse tail and knocking both of us into the Christmas tree.”
“We didn’t make very good soldiers, did we?” With a chuckle, George folded the newspaper and put it back on the dashboard of Nancy’s Mustang.
“Let’s hope Madame Dugrand’s latest students at the dance school are more dedicated.” Nancy gave her shoulder-length blond hair a toss as she started the blue sports car. The two friends, who were both eighteen years old, were heading out of the state park, where they had just finished cross-country skiing.
“Bess couldn’t wait to get away from dance class, remember?” Nancy went on. “All those arabesques and pliés were not her idea of fun.”
“That’s for sure,” George agreed. “Which is why I can’t believe my crazy cousin Bess is actually working at Madame Dugrand’s school today.”
Nancy gave George a puzzled look. “I thought she was shopping for Christmas presents.”
“She’s helping sew costumes,” George said. “She met Madame Dugrand at the mall the other day. They started talking about The Nutcracker, and Madame said she was afraid the show wasn’t going to be ready on time.”
“Why?” Nancy raised her brows. “The dance school puts on The Nutcracker every year, so don’t they already have the costumes and props?”
“I think Bess is helping to alter some of the costumes to fit the dancers,” George explained. “Anyway, Madame told Bess that the rent for the school unexpectedly went way up, and the building needs a lot of repairs. I guess Madame is hoping this year’s production will be super-sensational to help pay for everything. So she wants the show to be perfect. And you know what a soft touch Bess is. She immediately volunteered to help with the costumes.”
“Mmmm,” Nancy said thoughtfully. “Plus, it was her way of getting out of going cross-country skiing with us.”
George laughed. “You’re probably right. Bess can sew sitting down, so it won’t seem like work to her. I also have a hunch Bess volunteered so she could hang out with Shana Edwards.”
“Shana always was really nice,” Nancy agreed as she passed a slower-moving car. “I guess we always knew she’d be the one from River Heights to make it as a ballerina in New York City. But The New York Ballet Company performs their own Nutcracker. Wouldn’t you think Shana would rather dance in that one?”
“Bess said Shana came back because Madame Dugrand asked her to,” George explained. “Madame hopes that having a famous alumna in the school’s production will help make it a big success.”
“I hope she’s right,” Nancy said. “I’ve always liked Madame Dugrand, and I know how important the ballet school is to her.”
“Hey, why don’t we stop off there right now?” George suggested. “We can surprise Bess, and take her to lunch with us.”
“Good idea.” Nancy flipped on the turn signal and made a right down Main Street. “I need to buy a ticket to the gala in Shana’s honor, anyway.”
George sighed. “I wish I could go to the gala, too. But the competitors’ party for the cross-country ski race is that same night.”
“Maybe Shana will be there today,” Nancy said. After turning into the parking lot of the dance school, she pulled the Mustang into the first empty spot.
The school was located in a flat, rectangular building that had once been a small warehouse. Madame Dugrand had installed rows of tall windows into the brick walls and added skylights to the roof. Inside, she’d built two large dance studios, dressing rooms, an office for herself, and a large recital hall.
“The place looks just like it always did,” George remarked as the girls headed up the snowy walk to the double front doors. Just then, she hit a patch of ice. “Whoa!” she cried as her feet slipped underneath her.
Nancy grabbed her friend’s elbow, but it was too late. George fell to the sidewalk with a plop. “Are you okay?” Nancy asked. She couldn’t help but grin at her friend’s disgruntled expression.
“Yeah,” George said. “I can’t believe it. I skied all morning and never fell once.”
Nancy helped her friend up. “I don’t think it’s your fault,” she said. “The sidewalk should’ve had sand or salt on it. Remember how Madame was always so careful? She didn’t want one of her precious ballerinas to hurt themselves.”
“We’d better tell her, then,” George said, slapping the snow off the back of her pants.
As they continued up the walk, Nancy saw that the ice hadn’t been cleared from the steps, either. “This is pretty dangerous,” she commented.
But George had already entered the building. When Nancy stepped into the hall beside her friend, she quickly noticed the chipping paint on the walls and the scuffed linoleum floor.
“Brings back old memories, huh?” George said.
Nancy nodded. “Bess was right, though. The place is a lot more run-down than I remember.”
“Repairs are expensive,” George said as the two of them started down the hall. “And Bess told me that, because of the rent increase, Madame’s strapped for money. This year she’s been teaching most of the classes herself, with help from some of the older students, who get a tuition break.”
“That means less money coming in,” Nancy pointed out. “Let’s hope for Madame Dugrand’s sake that bringing Shana back will draw a huge crowd for The Nutcracker.”
“Speaking of ballerinas,” George said, stopping in the front foyer and looking around the empty halls, “where is everyone?”
Nancy could hear the faint sound of piano music. “They must be in class.”
“Bess is probably in the wardrobe room,” George said.
“It was in the basement, right?” Nancy said. “Let’s go look for her there.”
The girls started down the dimly lit stairs. Cobwebs hung from the high ceiling.
“I don’t think I’d like to come down here alone,” George whispered. “It’s kind of—”
“Who’s there?” someone called in a shrill voice, cutting George off. An elderly woman with a cane hobbled into the dark, narrow hall below. Stopping at the foot of the stairs, she peered up at them through round granny glasses. Her wispy, snow-white hair looked like a halo around her forehead.
“I’m Nancy Drew,” Nancy said politely. “And this is George Fayne. We’re here to see—”
“Nancy! George!” Bess exclaimed, coming out of the wardrobe room and stopping beside the elderly woman. “What a nice surprise. How was the skiing?”
“Great,” George said as she and Nancy made their way down the rest of the steps. “We stopped by to see if you wanted to have lunch with us.”
Bess glanced over at the elderly woman, then said hesitantly, “I don’t know if I should. I’m in the middle of putting lace on Clara’s nightgown.”
The white-haired woman smiled kindly. “Go eat, dear. You deserve a break.”
“Oh, all right,” Bess said. “But first, I want to show my friends your handiwork.” After introducing Gertrude Wolaski to Nancy and George, Bess said, “Mrs. Wolaski is the most talented seamstress in the world.”
“Now, Bess,” Mrs. Wolaski said, shaking her head modestly. “Don’t carry on.”
“I’m not carrying on,” Bess insisted. “You’re a magician with a needle and thread.”
“That’s only because I spent thirty years of my life sewing for my husband’s dry cleaning business,” Mrs. Wolaski informed the girls.
Bess led the way down the short hall and into a medium-sized room. Long fluorescent lights shone down on several racks of costumes. Two sewing machines were set up on large tables littered with scissors, straight pins, and patterns. Spools of thread were stored on racks on the walls, next to bolts of many-colored fabrics.
Now that Nancy was standing next to the elderly woman, she could see how tiny she was. Mrs. Wolaski’s rounded shoulders and hunched back made her look even smaller.
“How’d you get into the costume business?” Nancy asked, waving at the rows of gowns, mice suits, soldier uniforms, and ballet tutus.
Mrs. Wolaski laughed. “Well, I love the ballet. About a month ago I was at a recital here at the school and mentioned to Madame Dugrand that I used to sew. And as you know, Madame can be very persuasive. So I volunteered to help with the Nutcracker costumes. Not that an old lady like me has anything better to do.” The wardrobe mistress smiled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must find Lawrence. He promised to pick up more pink tulle for me yesterday.”
The girls said goodbye, then watched as Mrs. Wolaski limped slowly back into the hall with the aid of her cane.
When the woman had gone, Bess grabbed Nancy’s hand. “I want you both to see the Sugar Plum Fairy costume Mrs. Wolaski is making for Shana,” she said excitedly. Riffling through a rack of costumes, Bess pulled out a dress with a bodice of shimmering silver satin and a skirt of wispy silver tulle. Clusters of pink beads decorated both the shoulder straps and the skirt.
“It’s beautiful,” Nancy said, touching the gossamer fabric.
“It looks expensive,” George commented. “I thought Madame was trying to save money.”
“Shana’s costume had to be special, but we’re just altering most of the others.” Bess hung up the Sugar Plum costume, then pulled out a soldier uniform. “Does this remind you of any- thing?” she asked, a twinkle in her blue eyes. “Like opening night of The Nutcracker when I stole the show?”
“Is that what you did?” Nancy teased as she and George burst out laughing. “I thought you fell on George and me, and we all knocked the big Christmas tree over.”
“Well, maybe it was more like that.” Bess giggled, then frowned slightly. “Let’s hope this year’s Nutcracker is more successful. Nothing else seems to be going right for Madame Dugrand.”
Nancy raised her brows. “You mean like the rent increase?”
“It’s worse than just that,” Bess said. “A lot of little things have been happening around here, and they’re beginning to add up.”
“Like what?” George asked.
Bess’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Well, two girls had toe shoes stolen from their lockers. And there’s been a lot of bickering among the kids and parents, too, about who got what part.”
“There was always grumbling,” Nancy reminded her. “I mean, even though we weren’t very good dancers, we still thought we should’ve had the lead roles.”
Bess slid the soldier uniform back with the others. “Yeah, but this seems different. Madame’s so nervous it’s affecting everyone.”
“How’s Shana taking all of this?” George asked. “She did come all the way from New York for the production.”
“I don’t know if Shana has any idea of what’s going on,” Bess said, taking her coat from the back of a chair. “But I do know she wants to see you both.”
“Great,” George said.
“Let me buy a ticket to the gala, then we can find Shana and say hello,” Nancy suggested.
“Good idea,” Bess said.
The girls headed upstairs, where the hallway was no longer empty. This time, several older boys and girls dressed in sweats and leotards were limbering up before the next class.
When Nancy, George, and Bess reached Madame Dugrand’s office, the door was open. Looking over Bess’s shoulder, Nancy noticed that the small area was filled with file folders and papers. Madame Dugrand, a slim, attractive woman in her early fifties, was sitting in a swivel chair behind an old-fashioned rolltop desk. The desk was cluttered with papers and envelopes, and to the right of it was a computer on a stand.
Bess knocked on the door frame, and Madame looked up from an open ledger. When she saw who it was, she smiled brightly. Nancy thought that despite her gray hair, Madame hadn’t aged since they’d been students eight years ago.
“Bess!” the directress exclaimed, standing up. “How do the costumes look?”
“Great. The Sugar Plum Fairy costume is a work of art.” Bess stepped into the office, then motioned to Nancy and George. “I brought two former students to see you. And one of them wants to buy a gala ticket.”
Madame’s smile widened. “Nancy Drew and George Fayne! What a pleasant surprise!”
“Nancy’s the one who needs a ticket,” George explained. “I wish I could go to the gala, too,” she added quickly, “but I have a party that night after a cross-country race.”
“You always were athletic,” Madame Dugrand told her. “And, Nancy, what are you up to these days?”
“She’s only the best teen detective in the world,” Bess cut in.
Nancy laughed. “Not exactly ‘the best.’”
“Well, I’m glad you’ll be able to come to the gala,” Madame said as she opened her desk drawer and hunted for the tickets. “As I recall, you three used to know Shana—”
Suddenly, a high-pitched alarm went off.
Bess jumped nervously. “What’s that?”
In a flash, Madame Dugrand rushed past the girls and into the hall. “The fire alarm,” she called over her shoulder.
Following Madame Dugrand into the hallway, Nancy asked, “Was there a fire drill scheduled for today?”
“No!” Madame exclaimed, breaking into a jog. “This must be a real fire!”
Old Times, New Crimes
“We have to get the students out of the building right away!” Madame Dugrand’s voice was frantic.
Nancy knew they had to hurry. A faint whiff of smoke was already drifting down the hall. Bess and George were right behind her. “Bess!” Nancy called. “Phone the fire department. Then run down to the basement and make sure Mrs. Wolaski heard the fire alarm.”
With a nod, Bess picked up the office phone. “I’ll check to see that the locker room is cleared,” George said, heading through a swinging door.
Nancy and Madame Dugrand raced down the hall and into the first studio.
An older girl was standing in the center of the room, a panic-stricken expression on her face. Several kids were dashing back and forth, squealing loudly.
Madame Dugrand clapped her hands several times. “Quiet!” she commanded. “Line up behind Miss Sarah.”
Realizing Madame Dugrand had the situation in hand, Nancy rushed to the next room. A tall, striking red-haired woman was waving a dozen girls in leotards toward the doorway. Nancy realized the redhead was Shana Edwards.
“Class! Get in line!” Shana ordered in a firm voice.
Nancy grabbed two young boys as they attempted to dash by her and pushed them into the line behind Shana. “Quickly, you must leave the building!” Nancy said as she helped herd the group into the hall.
Bess dashed up beside her. “The basement’s empty,” she gasped. “Mrs. Wolaski must already be outside.”
A girl about nine years old stopped and tugged on Nancy’s sleeve. “What about our coats?” she asked. Her hair was the same shade of red as Shana’s. “Can’t we run into the dressing room for them?”
Bess shook her head. “No, Michelle. We must do what we did during our drill earlier this week. Now, hurry and follow your sister.” She gave the girl a gentle push toward the outside door.
“That’s Shana’s little sister, Michelle,” Bess whispered to Nancy as they hurried to check the recital hall. “She’s Clara in The Nutcracker this year.”
Bess helped Nancy open the double doors into the recital hall. The two of them peered inside. The long rows of chairs and dark stage looked empty. Nancy sniffed the air.
“I smell smoke,” she said.
“Then let’s get out of here.” Swinging around, Bess started toward the hall. For a second, Nancy hesitated. If she could locate the fire and put it out, it might prevent damage to the building.
Bess gave Nancy’s arm an urgent tug. “I know what you’re thinking, Nancy Drew, and don’t you dare. You leave the fire to the fire fighters.”
“You’re right.” Quickly, Nancy and Bess shut the doors and jogged down the now empty hall. They met George at the outside doors. She was ushering the last of the children down the slippery steps and into the parking lot.
“Is everybody out?” Madame Dugrand asked from the sidewalk. She was standing in the middle of a shivering group of youngsters. The sky was dark with clouds, and a light snow was beginning to fall.
“Yes,” Nancy called back. The blast of a siren made her look out into the street. A huge River Heights fire truck careened into the parking lot.
Racing down the icy sidewalk, Nancy met the first fireman off the truck.
“We smelled smoke in the recital hall.” She pointed toward the left side of the building. Waving to the others, the fireman headed in that direction.
As Nancy walked back to George and Bess, she scanned the small crowd huddled in front of the dance school. Shana Edwards was leading two kids toward a waiting car. Mrs. Wolaski was hobbling down the walk, holding on to the arm of a blond-haired young man about twenty years old. Several parents had driven up in front of the school. Madame Dugrand was separating their children from the group gathered on the sidewalk.
“Madame Dugrand,” Nancy called as she strode across the snow-covered grass, “maybe we should get the kids into our cars. It’ll be warmer.”
“That’s a good idea, Nancy. Thank you for your help.”
Just then a woman wearing a purple warm-up suit pushed past Nancy. A frightened-looking little girl in a leotard and tights clung to her hand.
“This fire is the last straw, Alicia!” the woman declared to Madame Dugrand. “I quit. You’ll have to get someone else to organize the props. And you’ll have to replace Tiffany, too. I’m pulling her out of The Nutcracker —and the school.”
With that, the woman spun around, dragging the unhappy little girl after her.
Madame Dugrand’s face flushed brightly. But she quickly leaned down to a young boy who was clinging to her leg. “Here’s something to keep you warm, Patrick,” she said as she took off her sweater and wrapped it around his shoulders.
When she straightened, she signaled to the blond-haired young man with a wave of her hand.
“Lawrence! Unlock the van. We’ll put as many students in it as we can.”
For the next few minutes, Nancy helped Lawrence, George, Bess, and Madame get the children settled in the van and in her Mustang. Several more parents picked up their kids, so there was room enough for everyone. Soon only Nancy and Madame Dugrand were left outside in the snow. Fire fighters were streaming in and out of the building, but Nancy hadn’t seen any fire or smelled any more smoke.
“What do you think caused the fire?” Nancy asked.
Shaking her head, Madame wrapped her arms tighter across her chest. She was looking worriedly toward the school. Her shoulders were hunched, and a light sprinkling of snow covered her gray hair. Just then, the fire chief strode down the steps. Nancy followed Madame Dugrand as she walked up the sidewalk to meet him.
“It appears that someone accidentally started a fire,” the chief said in a stern voice. “Part of your backstage curtain was burning.” He held up a cigarette enclosed in a plastic bag. “I suspect it was caused by this.”
Madame gasped. “I do not allow smoking in the building,” she said indignantly.
The fire chief shrugged. “Someone broke the rules.” He stuck the bag under his coat, then pulled a pad and a pen out of his back pocket.
“Actually,” the chief continued, “whoever set the fire probably did you a favor, Ms. Dugrand. Your building has several fire violations. Frayed wires, paint-soaked rags, and an exit blocked with chairs. It’s no wonder the whole place didn’t go up in flames. This,” he said, ripping the top sheet from the pad and handing it to Madame Dugrand, “is a citation. All the items on this list need to be corrected by next Friday or the fire department will close you down.”
Madame Dugrand’s face turned ashen as her blue eyes traveled down the list. “Next Friday is our opening night,” she said, looking up.
The chief shrugged again. “That’s your problem. Fires are mine, and I don’t want one here. You can all go on in now,” he added brusquely. Then he turned to his crew and yelled, “Let’s pack it up, guys!”
Madame Dugrand didn’t move. Her eyes were frozen on the citation in her hand.
“We’d better get the kids back into the school,” Nancy said gently.
With a deep sigh, Madame nodded. Twenty minutes later, the students who hadn’t been picked up by their parents were back in class.
“I’m going to take a look at the burned curtain,” Nancy told Bess and George.
“But the fire chief already checked everything, and I’m starved,” Bess protested, but Nancy was already starting down the hall.
“Hey!” a voice called. Nancy turned to see Shana Edwards coming out of the locker room. She was tall and slender, wearing a fuchsia leotard and pink tights. Her red hair was pulled back and tucked into a chignon, accenting her long neck and straight posture.
“Nancy Drew!” Shana exclaimed, her emerald eyes sparkling. “I was hoping I’d see you.” Just then she spotted George. The girls gave each other warm hugs.
“And we were hoping to see the famous Shana Edwards,” George said, holding her old friend at arm’s length.
“Too famous to have lunch with some dance school dropouts?” Bess joked.
“Never,” Shana replied. “I’ve got to work with Dewdrop and her flowers first, though. They’ve been having a little trouble with their scene. Would you guys like to watch? If you can stick around until it’s over, we can talk then. I’d love to know what everyone in River Heights has been up to. You know, all the gossip.”
Bess rolled her eyes. “Oh, it’s sooo exciting around here.”
The girls burst out laughing.
“And we’d love to hear all about New York,” George added.
“Great.” Shana squeezed Nancy’s hand. “And thanks, guys, for all the help during the fire alarm. Whew! What a madhouse.”
“No problem,” Nancy replied. “Listen, I’ve got to pick up my ticket for the gala, then I’ll meet you guys in—”
“Studio A,” Shana filled in. Then, linking her arms with Bess’s and George’s, she hurried them down the hall.
Nancy continued toward the stage area. She knew the fire chief had probably been thorough, but maybe he hadn’t looked beyond the cigarette. Even Nancy wasn’t sure what she should be looking for. Had the fire been deliberately set? Bess had said earlier that strange things were going on at the school. Unfortunately, except for a few scenery panels that were being painted, the stage was empty. The firemen had removed the torn curtain, and Nancy couldn’t find anything that looked suspicious.
When she got back to Madame Dugrand’s office, Nancy found the ballet directress sitting at her desk, a worried frown creasing her brow.
After Nancy bought a ticket to the gala, she said, “I’m really sorry about the fire.”
Madame Dugrand forced a thin smile. “Oh, the fire is just one more problem to add to a long list. Mrs. Patterson, the mother who quit and took her daughter with her, was in charge of the props for the show.” Madame threw up her hands. “I just don’t have time to organize the props. This year’s Nutcracker is turning into a disaster.”
“Maybe I can help,” Nancy offered.
Madame Dugrand’s blue eyes brightened. “Do you mean it? Oh, that would be wonderful, Nancy!” she exclaimed.
“I’ll start tomorrow,” Nancy promised.
“I can’t thank you enough,” declared the directress, getting to her feet. “Now, I must find Lawrence.”
“Who’s Lawrence?” Nancy asked.
“Lawrence Steele dances here at the school. He’ll be the Cavalier dancing opposite the Sugar Plum Fairy. He also teaches classes and helps me with the maintenance of the building. He needs to get right to work on correcting those fire code violations.”
Nancy frowned. “That reminds me. Do you know which fire alarm was set off?” she asked, following Madame Dugrand into the hallway.
The directress nodded. “The smoke detector over the stage went off automatically.”
That didn’t sound suspicious, Nancy thought. Maybe she should quit hunting for a mystery.
When Nancy reached studio A, Shana was standing next to a small, pinch-faced man in his early twenties. He was sitting at a big, black upright piano, frowning at the sheet of music propped in front of him. In the middle of the bare wooden floor, nine girls about sixteen years old were limbering up.
“See that girl over there?” Bess said when Nancy rejoined her and George. The cousins were sitting on a bench in front of a mirrored wall. Skylights brightened the windowless room.
“Which one?” Nancy asked as she sat down.
“The one with the purple tights.” Bess pointed toward a pretty girl with shiny chestnut hair and green eyes. “That’s Darci Edwards.”
“That’s right. There are three Edwards sisters,” George remarked. “They all look alike.”
Bess nodded. “And all three of them are talented. Darci’s dancing Dewdrop in the Dance of the Flowers.”
“And who’s that?” Nancy asked, nodding toward the piano player. “I didn’t see him outside.”
“That’s Roger Lutz, the accompanist,” Bess replied. “He only works here part-time. He’s still in music school, I think. He’s playing piano for Madame to get more experience. Maybe he arrived after the fire alarm.”
“He looks like a mouse,” George said.
“He’s quiet like one, too,” Bess added. “At least, he never talks to anyone. Madame Dugrand likes him, though. She’d been using tapes in her classes, but real music is so much better. Then Roger showed up about a month ago, saying he needed the experience. Plus, he knew Madame had contacts in New York for when he graduated from music school.”
Just then Shana looked their way. Nancy waved. Shana smiled and waved back, then walked over.
“You’re just in time. The girls and I are going to warm up at the barre.” She pointed to the long wooden pole attached to the far wall. “Then we’ll put on our toe shoes and do some floor work.”
“It sounds exciting!” Bess gushed.
“Believe me, it’s work.” Shana chuckled as she gracefully walked to the center of the room. When she clapped her hands, each dancer found a place at the barre.
Shana went to the shorter demonstration barre at the side of the room. She nodded at Roger, and he began playing a slow, dramatic piece.
Placing her hand lightly on the barre, Shana slowly extended her right leg in front of her.
“Shana makes everything look so easy,” Nancy whispered, leaning closer to Bess.
Her friend giggled. “Only we know how hard it is. I never could get my leg up on that stupid—Oh, no!” Bess suddenly gasped.
Nancy swung her head around to look at Shana. The barre had pulled clean away from the wall, crashing down on Shana’s support leg. With a cry of pain, the dancer toppled backward, landing awkwardly on the hard, wooden floor.
Partners in Spite
Nancy, Bess, and George raced to the fallen dancer’s side. Roger Lutz, the accompanist, reached Shana first.
“Take the other end of the pole,” he told the girls in a low voice. Together, the four of them lifted the barre off Shana’s ankle.
“Are you all right?” Nancy asked, helping Shana sit up.
“I—I think so,” Shana said uncertainly. She probed her ankle with her fingers. “Just bruised,” she added, taking a shaky breath.
Meanwhile, Shana’s students had formed a half-circle around her.
“Can you stand up?” Bess asked.
“I’ll try,” Shana said. She extended a hand toward Nancy. Roger supported her other elbow, and together they helped Shana to her feet. As soon as she was standing, all of her students applauded... all except Shana’s sister, Darci, Nancy noticed. Darci’s arms remained folded across her chest. Then she turned abruptly and went back to the other barre.
Nancy was puzzled. She would have thought Shana’s sister would be the most concerned.
“Careful, Shana,” one of the other students said. “You don’t want to pull a tightened muscle.”
“You’re right, April,” Shana agreed. She was still holding on to Nancy’s arm, her weight off her bruised leg. “I think I’d better reschedule this class for later. You girls can go. I’ll post the new time after I talk to Madame Dugrand.”
“What about me?” Roger said in a sulky voice. “I may not be available later.”
Nancy looked up at him. He had thin, brown hair, and a sparse mustache dusted his upper lip. George was right, Nancy thought. He really did look like a mouse.
“I understand,” Shana said, nodding. “I’ll just have to use a tape, if that’s the case.”
“Fine,” Roger grunted. Not bothering to hide his annoyance, he returned to the piano and quickly gathered up his music. The other students were already collecting the dance bags, leg warmers, towels, and shawls that they’d left scattered about the room.
“What’s his problem?” George asked Shana when Roger and the students had left. She and Nancy were helping Shana over to the bench.
“The same problem everyone else around here has,” Shana replied, limping awkwardly.
“Madame calls it preperformance jitters,” Bess explained as Shana sat down.
Shana shook her head. “I’m afraid it’s more than that, Bess. I’ve been in quite a few shows both here and in New York. Things can get pretty tense before a performance all right, but I’ve never experienced anything like this.”
“I guess the fire didn’t help,” George said. “And the barre falling like that was kind of strange. But when things get run down, as they have in this place, accidents do happen.”
“That might explain the falling ballet barre, George,” Nancy said, “but it doesn’t explain the stealing Bess mentioned.”
“Stealing?” Shana’s brows raised. “I hadn’t heard about that.”
“Two days ago, Tiffany Patterson’s toe shoes disappeared, then Maria Ramirez’s tutu,” Bess explained.
“So that’s why Mrs. Patterson was so mad,” Nancy said thoughtfully. “She told Madame Dugrand that the fire was the last straw. Then she quit as the prop manager, and she also withdrew Tiffany from the school.”
“Oh, no!” Bess exclaimed. “That’s the third student this week.” She sighed. “Mrs. Wolaski said the parents didn’t think the level of professionalism was high enough.”
“With Mrs. Patterson gone, who’ll be in charge of props?” Shana asked.
Nancy grinned. “Me. And I’m sure my good friend George will help when she’s not training for her race.” Nancy threw an arm around George’s shoulders, and all three girls looked at George expectantly.
“Okay, okay,” George said with a laugh. “You guys would probably toss me into a snowdrift if I said no.”
“Well, at least that problem’s solved.” Shana sighed. “I mean, I sure want to help Madame. I owe her so much. But I don’t want to get injured doing it.” She glanced back at the fallen barre.
“I don’t blame you.” Nancy walked over to the wooden pole. Kneeling down, she examined the ends of the barre, then looked up at the wall from which it had fallen.
“I don’t think the barre came away from the wall by accident,” Nancy said with a frown. Standing up, she turned to face the others. “Someone deliberately loosened it.”
“How can you tell?” Shana asked.
“There should have been four screws on each of the brackets that hold the barre to the wall.” Nancy recrossed the room and showed the girls the screws she’d found. “All together there should be eight screws, but I only found these two.”
“Maybe the others rolled away or something,” Bess suggested.
Nancy shook her head. “One or two screws might roll away. But not six. Someone removed most of them, knowing that the remaining ones couldn’t support a dancer’s weight.”
“Are you saying someone tried to hurt me on purpose?” Shana asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Nancy shook her head. “I don’t know. Were you the only teacher using studio A today?”
Shana thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I think so.”
“Maybe the fire and the falling barre are related,” George said. “Someone set the fire, and when the place was empty, they sneaked in and unscrewed the screws.”
“But who would do that?” Bess asked. “And why?”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Shana added, rubbing her ankle. “Why would someone want to hurt me?”
“I don’t know,” Nancy admitted. “But I intend to find out.”
Shana looked relieved. “Thanks, Nancy. I’m sure you can do it. Even in New York, I remember reading about one of the cases you solved.”
“Just remember, though, that my being on this case is strictly unofficial,” Nancy cautioned everyone. “Madame Dugrand has enough on her mind—I don’t want her thinking she has a case of serious crime on her hands, too. And there might not be anything going on here after all.”
Slowly, Shana got to her feet. “Well, I’d better put some ice on this. I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass on lunch.”
“Do you want some help?” Bess asked. But Shana shook her head as she walked slowly to the piano to get her shawl and leg warmers.
“If you see or hear anything suspicious,” Nancy called, “let me know, okay?”
“I will,” Shana promised as George opened the door for her. Shana said goodbye, then hobbled down the hall and into the locker room.
“Her leg looks really sore,” Bess said in a concerned voice. “I hope she’s okay.”
“And I hope this doesn’t sound callous,” George said, “but if I don’t eat soon, I may not be okay.”
Bess grinned. “Now you’re talking, George! Let’s go to Yogurt Heaven, just like old times.”
A short time later, Nancy was parking her car in front of Yogurt Heaven, a longtime favorite hangout for students at the dance academy.
“I’m a little surprised this place is still here,” George said, climbing out of Nancy’s blue Mustang.
“It hasn’t changed too much, either,” Bess assured George. “They still serve the same fabulous low-cal yogurt that they did when we were students at Madame Dugrand’s.”
Once inside the restaurant, the girls found the booth they’d thought of as theirs when they were ten. Nancy and George slid in one side and Bess sat across from them. The waitress brought menus and water, then left.
“I’m going to have a turkey club sandwich, then the pineapple delight with extra coconut,” Bess declared eagerly.
“I’m too hungry to decide so quickly. What are you going to have, Nancy?” George asked.
“Shhh!” Nancy told her friends suddenly. She nodded toward the front door of the restaurant. “Isn’t that Lawrence from the dance school?”
Peering over her shoulder, Bess nodded. “And Shana’s sister, Darci.”
“So what’s the big deal about that?” George asked in a low voice.
“Nothing, I guess,” Nancy replied. “But did you guys see how funny Darci acted after Shana fell? It looked as if she couldn’t have cared less.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” George said. “Are Darci and Lawrence going together?” she asked Bess.
“I don’t know,” Bess replied. “But Darci did have her heart set on dancing with Lawrence in The Nutcracker. She wanted to be the Sugar Plum Fairy, but then Madame asked Shana to come back to dance the part.”
“So Lawrence is partnering Shana now instead of Darci,” Nancy said thoughtfully. “No wonder she gave her sister such a dirty look.”
“I can see why Darci might be upset about the change,” George said. “But I’d think Lawrence would be thrilled to have such a great dancer for his partner.”
Bess leaned closer. “Oh, Lawrence has a grudge against Shana, too. Mrs. Wolaski told me he was supposed to choreograph all the big dance scenes. But when Shana came back, Madame split the scenes between Shana and him. He was not happy.”
Nancy looked back at the couple. Darci was standing awfully close to Lawrence, and his arm was casually around her shoulders. He had blond curly hair and a great dancer’s build.
“I’d say Lawrence was at least a couple of years older than Darci,” Bess commented.
George and Nancy agreed. Just then, the two dancers started down the aisle toward them. Quickly, Nancy stuck the menu in front of her face. George and Bess did the same.
After picking up two sundaes at the counter, Lawrence and Darci took the booth directly behind the girls. They were close enough for Nancy to hear their conversation.
“You should have seen it, Lawrence,” Darci said delightedly. “One minute Miss High and Mighty Shana was up there showing off for everyone, and the next moment she was flat on the floor. It was a total wipeout!”
Lawrence laughed. “That’s just what Shana needs to bring her back down to earth. I wish I’d been there to see it.”
“Maybe another little accident might convince Shana to go back to New York where she belongs,” Darci suggested.
“I don’t know,” Lawrence said slowly. He paused, as if he might say something more.
Holding her breath, Nancy leaned closer toward their booth. She didn’t want to miss a word.
“I have a feeling it will probably take more than just a little accident to get rid of that sister of yours,” Lawrence continued. “And knowing you, Darci, you’re just the person to think of one!”
Accidents Will Happen
Bess’s eyebrows shot up. “That sounds like a threat,” she whispered excitedly.
Nancy nodded and put her finger to her lips. It definitely seemed as if Darci Edwards could have played a part in her sister’s accident. But why? Was she that angry because Shana had gotten the role of the Sugar Plum Fairy?
Nancy remembered that Mr. and Mrs. Edwards had been very ambitious for their three daughters. Maybe they’d pushed too hard, and the girls had ended up competing with one another.
Nancy’s thoughts were interrupted when the waitress asked, “What will you ladies have?”
While Bess and George ordered, Nancy listened to Lawrence and Darci discuss Darci’s part in The Nutcracker. Darci didn’t sound happy about being Dewdrop at all.
Once Darci and Lawrence were gone and Nancy had ordered her food, she said, “I guess Darci is pretty angry at her sister.”
“Angry!” Bess exclaimed. “Isn’t that sort of an understatement? Darci and Lawrence both want to get rid of Shana.”
“Neither of them actually admitted removing the screws from the demonstration barre,” George pointed out.
Nancy nodded. “George is right. The only thing we know for sure is that Darci and Lawrence both have reasons why they’re angry at Shana,” she said. “That’s not exactly a crime. But...” Pausing, she tapped her spoon on the table in thought.
“But what?” George prompted.
Nancy pointed the spoon at George. “But if I were Darci and Lawrence, I’d be pretty mad at Madame Dugrand, too. After all, she’s the one who asked Shana to come back.”
“Mad enough that they’d try to ruin the school?” George asked. “That seems kind of drastic.”
Bess shook her head. “We’d better warn Shana about those two.”
“Not yet,” Nancy cautioned. “We have to be careful. After all, Darci is Shana’s sister.”
“Still, I think we should keep our eyes on Darci and Lawrence,” Bess said emphatically.
“I agree,” Nancy said. “And now that George and I are in charge of props, tomorrow we’ll be at the dance academy to do just that.”
• • •
It was snowing Friday morning when Nancy parked her Mustang in front of the dance school.
“It looks as though George is going to have great snow for skiing this morning,” Nancy said to Bess, tossing her keys into her shoulder bag as they got out of the car. George was meeting them at the dance school just before lunch.
With a shiver, Bess brushed away the snowflakes that had landed on her nose. “George can have her skiing. Me, I’d rather be in a nice warm room.”
Nancy laughed as the two of them carefully made their way up the still-icy walk. When they entered the dance school, Bess glanced at her watch. “It’s nine o’clock now. When shall we break for lunch?”
“Come to the prop room around noon,” Nancy suggested. “George should be here by then, and the three of us can eat together.”
“I’ll ask Mrs. Wolaski to join us, too,” Bess said, starting downstairs. “I think she’s kind of lonely since her husband died last year.”
“Okay. See you then.” Waving goodbye, Nancy headed down the main hall. The prop room was on the left-hand side, directly across from studio A.
Flicking on the lights, Nancy glanced around the large room. Boxes of every size and description littered the concrete floor. Some of them were stacked to the metal support beams that crisscrossed the ceiling. The unfinished room, with its brick walls and no windows, still looked like an old warehouse. The place was cold, dusty, and damp.
Shivering, Nancy wrapped her coat tighter around her. She had no idea where to begin, and from the looks of things, Mrs. Patterson hadn’t either. In addition to the boxes, the room was filled with larger props: everything from pieces of furniture to pink flamingos and even a bicycle. Nancy had almost decided to ask Madame Dugrand for help when she spotted what looked like a list taped to the wall.
Nancy wove her way around several painted panels that had fallen to the floor and checked the list. Nutcracker Props was printed in bold letters across the top of the first page. Many of the things on the list had been checked off.
“I hope that means they’re accounted for,” Nancy muttered to herself. Reading carefully through the entire list, she began to verify the checked items. Behind a stack of wood, she found the toy cannon that the soldiers would fire at the mice during their battle scene. And in the corner was the sled little Clara and her prince would ride to reach the Land of Sweets. Next on the list, Mrs. Patterson had checked off the Christmas tree ornaments.
Nancy looked at one stack of boxes. The ornaments could be in any of these, she thought. She carefully opened the boxes one by one, finding all kinds of props: tambourines, dolls, wrapped Christmas presents, as well as cans of paint and brushes. But she couldn’t find any ornaments. Nancy knew they were important. Without them, the Christmas tree in the party scene would look very bare.
Nancy let out a frustrated sigh. Great, she thought. First day on the job and I’m already missing something. Then she spied the back door that led to the recital hall stage. Maybe Mrs. Patterson had put the ornaments on stage already.
As she walked across the room, Nancy wiped her dirty hands on her jeans, then opened the door. Three steps led to the left side of offstage. The area was dark and quiet and smelled like stale smoke. For a second, Nancy hesitated. What if there was a saboteur, and he or she was lurking around ready to set another fire?
No, that was silly, she chided herself. Besides, if he or she was there, Nancy was ready to face the person.
Cautiously, she walked out onto the stage, hunting for the box. The big wooden Christmas tree was in the center of the stage, but there were no ornaments hanging on it. Then Nancy checked backstage, behind the heavy curtain. As she swept the curtain aside with her hand, she noticed something white on the floor beneath it.
She stooped to pick the object up. It was a white lace handkerchief with the initials G. T. embroidered on the edge.
G. T. Who involved in the dance school had those initials? Nancy wondered. With a shrug, she stuck the handkerchief in her back pocket and went back down the three steps into the prop room.
Making a quick decision, Nancy left the dark room and went into the main hall. She hated to disturb Madame Dugrand with one more problem, but she needed to find out where the ornaments were. If there weren’t any, Nancy was going to have to come up with some before dress rehearsal the following Thursday. That was less than a week away.
“Excuse me,” Nancy said, sticking her head into Madame Dugrand’s office. The directress looked up from her paperwork. Through the window beside the desk, Nancy could see that the snow was falling faster.
“Nancy!” Madame Dugrand exclaimed. “How is everything going, dear?”
“I’m afraid I can’t find the box of ornaments for the Christmas tree,” Nancy replied. “They’ve been checked off the list, but they’re not in the prop room or on the stage.”
“What?” Madame sprang to her feet. “Oh, I hope they aren’t lost! We’re using Rebecca Farnsworth’s ornaments this year, and they’re priceless antiques.”
“Maybe I overlooked them,” Nancy said quickly. She hadn’t realized how upset Madame would be. “Or maybe they were just checked off by mistake and haven’t been delivered yet.”
“Maybe.” Walking around her desk, Madame began to pace up and down in front of Nancy. “But whatever happened, you must find them. Those props are very important. See those pictures?” Madame added, pointing to the wall beside her desk.
Nancy nodded as she looked at the display of gold-framed photos.
“These particular pictures,” Madame Dugrand said, gesturing toward a cluster of five photos, “are publicity shots from my former ballet company’s Nutcracker.”
Nancy moved closer for a better look. In one picture Clara was holding the Nutcracker doll, and in another the Candy Canes posed in the Land of Sweets. “It looks lovely,” Nancy said.
“Thanks to the wonderful costumes and props we had,” Madame said. “That’s why I’ve collected them both so carefully over the years. Every season I try to add something new, a small treat for my faithful patrons. This year, the Farnsworth ornaments were to be that treat. That’s why it’s so important that we find them.”
Nancy was about to swear she’d track down the ornaments no matter what when the phone rang. Madame Dugrand stretched gracefully across her desk to answer it.
After a moment of listening, Madame Dugrand slammed down the phone. “What will be next?” she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “That was the printer. Someone canceled our Nutcracker programs earlier this week! Now the shop can’t promise them on time!”
“That’s awful!” Nancy tried to console the directress. “Look, please don’t worry about the ornaments, Madame. I’ll take care of them. And somehow we’ll make sure this show is a success.”
Explaining that she’d suddenly gotten an idea where the ornaments might be, Nancy hurried back to the prop room and retrieved her purse.
Fifteen minutes later, she drove up the circular drive in front of Rebecca Farnsworth’s estate. The wealthy widow was involved in numerous charities in and around River Heights and was an outspoken patron of the arts as well.
Nancy rang the bell. Surprisingly, Mrs. Farnsworth herself came to the door.
“Hello, Mrs. Farnsworth,” Nancy said. “I’m Nancy Drew.”
The silver-haired woman smiled. “Why, yes. You’re Carson Drew’s daughter. Come in, my dear.”
As she shut the heavy door, Mrs. Farnsworth inquired, “How is your father, Nancy?”
“He’s fine, thank you,” Nancy said politely. She wiped her snowy shoes on the mat and followed Mrs. Farnsworth into a huge, marble-tiled foyer.
Then Nancy decided to get right down to business. “I’m helping organize the props for The Nutcracker Ballet, and I came to pick up the ornaments you offered to lend the school.”
Mrs. Farnsworth’s eyebrows knitted together. “My chauffeur delivered those ornaments last Tuesday,” she said, frowning. “He told me he handed them right to Marjorie Patterson.”
“Oh, good,” Nancy said with a big smile. “I’m sure Mrs. Patterson put them in a safe place,” she added quickly, not wanting Mrs. Farnsworth to know that the ornaments had disappeared.
Mrs. Farnsworth nodded. “I hope so. If anything should happen to those ornaments, I don’t know what—”
“Oh, I’m sure they’re very safe,” Nancy fibbed, walking back toward the front door. “I’m terribly sorry I bothered you. And thanks again.” She let herself out before Mrs. Farnsworth could say anything more.
Nancy pulled into the dance academy lot just as George drove up.
“Am I ever glad to see you,” Nancy said.
“What’s up?” George asked. “You look worried.”
As the girls walked to the entrance, Nancy filled George in on the missing ornaments. “And all this means if Mrs. Patterson doesn’t have them, we’re in big trouble,” Nancy concluded.
Using the pay phone in the hall, Nancy called the Patterson’s house. Mrs. Patterson’s answer made Nancy’s heart sink.
“She said they’re in the box inside the sled,” Nancy told George when she’d hung up. “But there isn’t any box in the sled.”
George took off her coat and started down the hall. “Maybe you just overlooked it,” she called over her shoulder.
An hour later, there were still no ornaments in sight.
“This is just great,” Nancy said with a sigh as she sat back on her heels. George was kneeling beside her. The two of them were surrounded by open boxes full of props. “I have a hunch that whoever canceled the programs took the ornaments, too,” Nancy said.
George shook her head. “Probably the same person who set off the fire alarm and loosened the demonstration barre in studio A.”
“It does seem as if all these disasters are happening too close together not to be related,” Nancy said.
“You still think it could be Lawrence and Darci?”
Nancy sighed again. “I wish I knew.”
Just then, the girls heard tinkly Nutcracker music floating through the prop room’s open door.
“Maybe we should take a break,” George said.
With a nod, Nancy stood up. “You read my mind.” When they reached studio A, Nancy slowly opened the door.
Lawrence and Shana were alone in the studio. A tape recorder on the piano was playing music from the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.
As Nancy watched the two dancers, she almost forgot the harsh words she’d overheard Lawrence utter about Shana at Yogurt Heaven. The two dancers were rehearsing the romantic pas de deux from The Nutcracker.
Shana was supported against Lawrence’s arm. Dipping back, she arched her arms gracefully over her head. Then Lawrence spun Shana around, and with both hands on her waist, began to lift her high into the air. But the romantic mood disappeared when Lawrence suddenly lost his balance. Shana sailed backward over his head, a look of horror on her face!
Dangerous Playthings
Shana screamed as she flew over Lawrence’s head toward the wooden floor.
“Oh, no!” George gasped, rushing with Nancy into the studio.
At the last second, Lawrence lurched forward and pulled Shana down to his shoulders. Her weight threw him sideways and he staggered. Then, finally getting his balance, he lowered her in front of him, setting her awkwardly on her feet.
“Are you all right?” he said. Lawrence’s face was flushed, and his eyes were full of concern.
Angrily, Shana pulled away from him. “You klutz! I could have broken my neck!”
Nancy and George stopped short. Nancy was close enough to see Lawrence’s expression of concern turn into one of startled annoyance.
“If that’s all the thanks I get for saving you, maybe I should have dropped you,” Lawrence retorted.
“Saving me! That’s a laugh,” Shana declared. “Nancy and George are witnesses to the fact that you deliberately dropped me. Right?” Hands on her hips, Shana turned toward the two girls.
“Witness to what?” Lawrence laughed sarcastically before Nancy or George could answer. “To your own clumsiness? Who are these two friends of yours, anyway? And why are they hanging around the school like they belong here?”
“Leave them out of this,” Shana snapped. Taking a step toward Lawrence, she poked him in the chest with her index finger. “You’re just trying to avoid the fact that your hands weren’t in the right place on my waist.”
“No way.” Lawrence moved closer, towering over Shana. “You were wiggling like a nervous worm. I couldn’t balance you right.”
For a moment, the two dancers glared at each other. Nancy could feel the tension between them. She didn’t dare say anything, especially when she had no idea what had caused the near-accident.
“I think we both know what the solution to all of this is,” Lawrence said in a low voice. “Get yourself a new partner, one you can blame all your mistakes on.” Then he turned and started toward the door.
“You know there’s no one else around who can partner me,” Shana yelled after him. “So we’ll just have to simplify the choreography for you.”
“For me?” Lawrence halted. “Give it up, Shana. This whole thing was your own fault. Your timing was off. You’re not nearly as good as you think you are. Both your sisters can dance circles around you, even Michelle. Darci should be dancing the Sugar Plum Fairy role, and you know it.”
With that, Lawrence pushed his way through the doors and stormed out of the studio.
“Pompous jerk,” Shana muttered as she sat down on the wooden floor. Ripping off her satin toe shoes, she flung them after him. “He makes me so mad!” she declared, tearing the lambs-wool padding from her toes and throwing it after her shoes.
Nancy had never seen Shana so worked up. Maybe the tense atmosphere at the ballet academy was getting to everyone. “Don’t you two get along?” Nancy asked in a teasing voice, hoping to break the tension.
Shana gave Nancy a wry grin. “That’s an understatement,” she said with a sigh. “Actually, we used to be um... friends. I mean, before I got an audition with the New York Ballet Company and he didn’t.”
“Jealousy again,” George remarked to Nancy in a low voice. Then she picked up Shana’s toe shoes and handed them to her.
“Mmm,” Nancy replied, thinking of Darci.
Shana walked over to the piano and punched off the tape recorder. The romantic Nutcracker music stopped. Then she gathered up her sweats and shawl.
Finally she said, “You know, Lawrence thinks I could arrange an audition for him with the New York Ballet Company if I really wanted to. But, I’m just a member of the corps de ballet right now—which means I’m not much more important than a piece of scenery. Lawrence doesn’t understand that I have no say in who gets to audition and who doesn’t.” Wearily, Shana slumped onto the piano bench.
“Would you arrange an audition for Lawrence if you could?” Nancy pressed.
Shana shook her head as she tucked her toe shoes into her dance bag. Then she bent down to slip on her sweats. “No, he needs to do that himself. Lawrence has to have more confidence in his own abilities. It’s the only way he’ll make it in New York. The competition is cutthroat, and you’ve got to be able to deal with it—on your own.”
“Do you think Lawrence knows how you feel?” Nancy asked.
“I know he knows, because I told him,” Shana said. “Someone had to. He’s fooling himself if he thinks a recommendation from me would make a difference. Blaming me is just a cop-out.”
“Makes sense,” George said, nodding. “Do you think Lawrence was mad enough to have taken screws out of the demonstration barre so you’d fall?”
“No way.” Shana tucked an errant wisp of flame-red hair back in her loosened chignon and shook her head emphatically. But then her green eyes took on a faraway look. “At least I’d hate to think he’d do something like that,” she said finally. “Not to me.”
While Shana was talking, Nancy walked over to the studio doors and peered into the hall. She wanted to make sure no one was listening to them.
When she returned, she sat down next to Shana on the bench. “Maybe we’d better tell you about the other things that have happened,” Nancy said in a low voice. Then she and George told her about the missing antique ornaments and the canceled programs.
“Poor Madame Dugrand,” Shana murmured when Nancy had finished. “But what could those things have to do with the demonstration barre falling, or with Lawrence almost dropping me?”
“Maybe nothing,” Nancy admitted. “But I can’t help thinking they’re all tied together.”
“And you suspect Lawrence?” Shana shook her head. “I don’t know, Nancy. Lawrence might be mad at me for a lot of things, but he’s devoted to Madame Dugrand. I doubt he’d hurt her just to get back at me.”
“Maybe we should tell Shana what we overheard at Yogurt Heaven, Nancy,” George said in a low voice.
“What?” Shana looked back and forth at her two friends.
Reluctantly, Nancy repeated the conversation they’d overheard between Darci and Lawrence.
But Shana didn’t seem angry. Instead she let out a sigh. “I should have known this would happen. Poor Darci. She wanted to be the Sugar Plum Fairy so badly. She’s had to dance in my shadow all her life. Besides, Darci has a huge crush on Lawrence. My dancing with him must really burn her up.”
“So you don’t think they’ve teamed up to drive you away?” Nancy asked.
Shana shrugged. “I don’t know anything anymore. I thought I was coming back to help Madame out, but it’s been one disaster after another. Maybe I should just go back to New York.”
“No way!” George said firmly. “Look at all the help you’ve given the other dancers. Madame needs you.”
“Maybe.” Shana stood up. “Well, I have to get going. Madame wants me to help choreograph the fight scene between the soldiers and the mice.”
“How’s your ankle?” Nancy asked, getting up.
Shana smiled. “All better, thanks to the ice pack. Look, you guys,” she added as the three of them walked to the door, “I’m going to talk to Darci the first chance I get.”
“Don’t tell her I’m snooping around,” Nancy cautioned. “I don’t think it’d be a good idea to blow my cover.”
“I’ll be careful,” Shana promised. “I really appreciate what you’re trying to do, Nancy. I don’t know if I could stick around here at all under the circumstances if it weren’t for you.”
Nancy opened the door, and the three walked out of the studio. In the hall, a group of ten- and eleven-year-old boys and girls were battling with swords.
“They must be the mice and soldiers,” George said. “That battle holds special memories for Nancy, Bess, and me,” she told Shana.
Shana joined in the laughter. “I remember that scene. You three almost brought the tree down. The Nutcracker has never been quite as exciting. Well, I’d better get moving. I’ll see you two later.”
While Nancy and George worked their way around the battling kids to get to the prop room, Shana headed in the opposite direction.
George opened the prop room door. Nancy was about to step inside when Lawrence Steele came charging out. Bumping into Nancy, he knocked her against the door frame.
“Hey, Steele!” George said, catching Nancy by the arm. “Watch where you’re going!”
“I might say the same thing to you,” Lawrence countered. He raked his thick, blond hair back with his fingers. “What’re you guys doing here, anyway? Snooping around?”
“I’m the prop mistress,” Nancy announced.
Lawrence snorted. “That’s a good one. Mrs. Patterson is in charge of props.”
“Not anymore. She quit,” Nancy retorted, tired of his haughty tone. “So what were <