The Nutcracker Ballet Mystery (8 page)

As soon as she got home herself, Nancy showered and

changed into her new turquoise party dress and black

patent leather heels.

Half an hour later, Nancy was parking her Mustang

in front of Bess’s house.

“Come in, Nancy,” Mrs. Marvin said as she opened

the door. “Bess is just about ready.”

“I’m totally ready,” Bess said, hurrying down the

stairs in her bright red brocade dress and matching

leather flats.

“When will you girls be home?” Mrs. Marvin asked

as Bess was putting on her coat.

“We shouldn’t be too late,” Bess replied. The girls

said goodbye and headed for Nancy’s car.

“Would you mind stopping off at the dance academy

on the way to the country club, Nancy?” Bess asked. “I

forgot to bring Michelle’s Clara costume home with

me, and I’m supposed to do the hem.”

“Sure,” Nancy said. “We’re a little early, anyway.”

Nancy turned down Mason Street, then pulled into

the dance school’s parking lot. It was dark, and the only

other vehicle in sight was the school van, which was

parked in its usual place at the back of the lot.

“I don’t think anyone’s here,” Nancy said. “How did

you plan to get in?”

“I’ve got a key,” Bess said. She opened her black

evening bag and took it out. “Mrs. Wolaski loaned it to

me yesterday, and I forgot to give it back.”

Nancy pulled the Mustang to the end of the front

sidewalk and parked. Giggling, the two girls held on to

each other as they inched their way up the icy walk to

the school in their dress shoes. Once inside the door,

Nancy was about to turn on the lights when she heard a

noise coming from down the hall.

“Did you hear that?” she whispered to Bess.

Bess nodded. “I sure did!”

“I’m going to check it out. Wait here,” Nancy said,

slipping out of her heels.

“No way,” Bess said, taking off her own party shoes.

“I’m going with you.”

Nancy tiptoed down the shadowy hall in her

stockinged feet. The hall was dimly lit by the weak

glow of an emergency light. Nancy could hear Bess

breathing as she followed just behind her.

Nancy stopped in front of the recital room door and

put a finger to her lips. The girls listened first at the

door to studio A. Then they heard a crash from the

prop room.

Bess jumped. “What was that?” she squealed,

clutching Nancy’s arm. “I think we’d better call the

police.”

Nancy shook her head emphatically. “If we wait for

the police,” she whispered, “whoever it is might get

away.”

Bess grimaced, then nodded reluctantly. Nancy

hurried to the prop room. Slowly, she pushed open the

door and peered inside cautiously. It was pitch black.

Stepping into the room, Nancy felt along the brick

wall for the light switch. Bess was so close behind her

that she kept stepping on Nancy’s heels.

“Grrrr!” A loud growl made Nancy swing around.

Bess screamed as a black shape jumped up from

behind the shadowy sled.

Bess screamed again as the creature lunged for the

door. In the dim light from the hall, Nancy could see it

had a huge head and pointy ears.

“A monster! And it’s coming after us!” Bess cried,

shrinking back against Nancy.

“Stop, whoever you are!” Nancy pushed past Bess,

trying to reach the creature. But her leg hit something

solid and she tumbled over a box. At the same time, the

monster bolted past her and out into the hall.

Bess helped Nancy struggle to her feet. “We can’t

let it get away!” she yelled, but Bess just stood frozen in

fear.

Nancy leaped toward the open door. Wham! It

slammed shut in her face. Quickly, she searched for the

door knob, but then she heard a click. With a sinking

feeling, Nancy turned the knob, then rattled it.

Nothing happened. The door was locked.

She could hear Bess gasp. “Don’t move,” Nancy

whispered to her friend. “I need to find the light.”

Groping along the wall beside the door, Nancy finally

located the light switch. When she flipped it on,

nothing happened. Someone had turned off the power.

Nancy and Bess were locked in a pitch black room!

In the Lair of the Mouse King

“What in the world was that?” Bess finally asked, from

beside Nancy.

“Believe it or not, I think it was the Mouse King,”

Nancy said, looking around. The prop room was so

dark, it was like being in a cave. And because she knew

the floor was littered with junk, she didn’t dare take a

step.

Bess laughed nervously. “The Mouse King? You’re

kidding. Who would be crazy enough to run around in

a seven-headed mouse costume?”

“Someone who didn’t want us to recognize him or

her,” Nancy replied. Mentally, she kicked herself. Like

a dummy, she’d left her purse in the car. That meant

she didn’t have a flashlight or her lock-picking kit. She

hated being so unprepared.

Bess let out her breath. “Well, I guess knowing that

it was just a person wearing a costume makes me feel

better.”

Nancy gave a low chuckle. “At least something’s

making you feel better. Since we’re locked in and the

power is off, we may be in for a long night.”

“It’s a good thing we wore our coats. Hey, wait a

minute. Aren’t there two doors to this room?” Bess

asked in a hopeful voice.

“You’re right! How could I have forgotten that?”

Nancy turned toward where she thought the backstage

door was, but the total darkness was disorienting. “This

place could be booby-trapped,” she added,

remembering how the nutcracker doll had nearly fallen

on George’s head. “Maybe the Mouse King was in here

rigging up another surprise.”

“Oh, great.” Bess groaned.

Nancy was trying to decide what to do next when

Bess suddenly grabbed her arm. “Nancy,” she

whispered, “do you hear squeaking?”

Nancy stopped to listen, then nodded. “Yes. And I’m

pretty sure I know what it is.”

“What?” Bess asked nervously.

“Don’t panic, but it sounds like mice,” Nancy said.

“You know, those harmless little furry creatures.”

“Mice!” Bess jumped toward Nancy, almost

knocking her over. “Get me out of here!”

Suddenly, the prop room lights blazed on.

“That’s weird,” Nancy said, frowning.

Bess shivered. “Now I’ll be able to see the little furry

things instead of just hear them.”

A few minutes later, a key turned in the lock and the

door flew open.

“Caught you!” a voice cried. Whirling around, Nancy

and Bess found themselves face to face with Lawrence

Steele. He was brandishing a tire iron menacingly.

When he saw Nancy and Bess, he raised his brows in

puzzled surprise. “What are you two doing here?”

“Somebody locked us in,” Nancy said simply. She

looked at him suspiciously. “And what are you doing

here?”

Lawrence snorted. “Saving your skin!” he retorted.

“You would have spent a cold night in the prop room if

I hadn’t decided to drive by the school on my way to

the gala. I saw that the front door was wide open, so I

grabbed my tire iron and came in to take a look

around. Then, when I tried the light in the hall, I

figured someone had switched off the main breakers.”

“I bet you locked us in here,” Bess accused.

Stepping forward, she glared up at the handsome

dancer.

“Ha! Believe me, if I’d locked you in, I certainly

wouldn’t be stupid enough to let you out.”

Bess shrugged. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “But

then who did shut us in here?”

“Whoever the person was, he found your Mouse

King headpiece,” Nancy told Lawrence. “He put it on

so we couldn’t recognize him.”

Suddenly, Bess let out a little shriek and jumped on

top of a box.

“What’s wrong with you?” Lawrence demanded,

pointing at Bess with his tire iron. “And where are your

shoes?” he added, looking at her stockinged feet.

“There are mice in here,” Nancy explained. “We left

our shoes by the door so the intruder wouldn’t—”

“Mice!” Lawrence interrupted. He leaned the tire

iron against the door jamb, then fell to his knees and

began crawling around.

“Have you gone crazy?” Bess inquired as Lawrence

crawled past her.

“Of course not,” he snapped. “I’m looking for my

mice.”

“Your mice?” Bess repeated in disbelief.

Lawrence stopped to peer under the sled. “The

mice in here must be the ones that were stolen from

my locker a couple of days ago.”

“You keep mice in your dance locker?” Bess stared

down from the box, a horrified look on her face.

“Not usually. Only when I plan to feed my snake. Ah

ha!” Lawrence said suddenly, pouncing on something.

Getting to his feet, he held up a struggling white

mouse by its pink tail.

Bess wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Yuck.” Lawrence

slipped the mouse into a pocket of his tweed top coat.

Then he looked back and forth at Bess and Nancy.

“Okay, so why don’t you girls explain what you’re doing

in here?”

“We’re just helping Madame,” Nancy replied. “Bess

had to pick up a costume to hem, and we heard a noise.

So we went to investigate, and . . .” Her voice trailed

away.

Lawrence nodded. “And you figured it was me

wearing a giant mouse head. I guess you don’t seem to

trust me very much, Ms. Drew.”

Nancy raised her brows. “What makes you say that?”

she asked in an innocent voice.

“Oh, it’s just a feeling I get,” Lawrence replied. He

picked up the tire iron and slapped it against his left

palm. “No one seems to believe in me these days,” he

added.

Before Nancy could reply, Bess put her hand on

Nancy’s shoulder and jumped off the box. “Well, you

did almost drop Shana on her head,” she pointed out.

“That was Shana’s fault,” Lawrence said. “She’s

trying to ruin my career.”

Before Nancy could stop her, Bess said, “We happen

to know that you’re the one who’s trying to get rid of

her.”

“Look, another mouse,” Nancy cut in quickly,

pointing at the floor behind Lawrence. “It just ran

under the cannon.”

“Excellent!” Lawrence dropped to his knees again,

and the two girls hurried quietly out the prop room

door.

“Let’s get out of here quick,” Bess said, skidding

down the hall after Nancy. “That guy with his mice is

nuts.”

Nancy stopped at the end of the hall. “I should

probably look around first,” she said. “If Lawrence is

telling the truth, then the person we surprised in the

prop room might still be in the building somewhere.”

“No way.” Bess tugged on Nancy’s coat sleeve.

“’Cause if Lawrence is lying, he’ll be after us in two

seconds.”

“You’re right.” Nancy headed toward the front door.

Suddenly, lights from outside the building briefly

flooded the hallway.

“Headlights!” Nancy exclaimed. She rushed to the

door just in time to see the school van roar out of the

parking lot.

“Do you think Lawrence is making a getaway?” Bess

asked.

Quickly, Nancy slipped her high heels back on, then

started outside. “I don’t know,” she replied, “but we

need to find out. It could be the person who was

wearing the Mouse King headpiece.”

“If we go after the van, we’ll miss the gala!” Bess

protested, struggling into her red flats. But Nancy was

already heading down the steps to the car. Slipping and

sliding on the ice, she made her way to the Mustang.

“Wait for me!” Bess called. She was shuffling

carefully along the snowy walk, trying not to fall.

Nancy jumped into the car and started the engine.

Reaching across the passenger seat, she opened the

door for Bess. “Hurry!” she urged.

As soon as Bess had climbed in and strapped on her

seatbelt, Nancy pushed the gas pedal to the floor. She

wanted to catch whoever was driving the van—or at

least find out where he or she was going.

“Oh, no.” Bess was bent over in her seat. “Look at

my stockings. They’re ruined!”

“Mmmm,” Nancy commented without really hearing

her friend. She was trying to spot the white van.

Suddenly, she saw it make a left turn several cars

ahead. “There it is!” she cried, wheeling the Mustang

abruptly into the left lane.