The Nutcracker Ballet Mystery (5 page)

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!

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 lambswool 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 oilier

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.”