“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 you doing in the prop room?”
Lawrence hesitated, then shrugged. “I was looking for the Mouse King headpiece. They need it for rehearsal. It’s not in the wardrobe room with the rest of the costumes, and Mrs. Wolaski thought it might have been put in here by mistake.”
Glancing at Lawrence’s empty hands, Nancy asked, “But it wasn’t?”
“No,” he replied. “At least, not that I could see. If you should stumble across it while straightening up that mess,” he added, “bring it down to the wardrobe room.” Then, not bothering to wait for a response, Lawrence continued down the hall.
“Oooo,” George said, her dark eyes narrowing. “He sure can be a pain.”
“I guess everyone has lost their sense of humor around here,” Nancy agreed as they walked into the prop room. “That means we have to stay cool if we’re going to get anywhere in this investigation.”
When they got inside, George surveyed the room. “I have to agree with him about the mess part,” she said.
“Mmmm. And before we leave this afternoon, I have to make sure those ornaments aren’t here,” Nancy told George. Nodding toward a stack of boxes on the other side of the prop room, she added, “I’ll check those last boxes over there. Maybe you can start tagging scenery.”
Taking a pad of paper and a magic marker, George walked over to a pair of large, white pillars. She gave one of them a little push. “They look like heavy wood,” she said with a smile, “but they’re just lightweight papier-mâché. They must be for the Land of Sweets.”
Nancy nodded. “Maybe we should move them out of the way, so I can reach those other boxes.” She walked over to help George.
“I’ll push from behind,” George suggested. “You stay in front and keep it from falling forward.”
The girls were able to move the pillar about a foot before it began to topple.
“Be careful,” Nancy said. “We don’t want it to fall over.”
As she and George steadied the pillar, Nancy looked up. The ceiling was so dark, she couldn’t see very well. But when she stepped back she saw something that startled her. Perched on the top of the pillar was a wooden doll. It grinned down at her with a sinister smile.
“George, stop!” Nancy cried as the three-foot-tall doll began to teeter on the edge of the pillar.
But Nancy’s warning came too late. The doll toppled from the column—heading straight for George’s head!
6
Staged for Trouble
Nancy grabbed George by the hand and pulled her sideways. The wooden doll crashed to the floor at the base of the pillar, missing George’s head by an inch. Losing her balance, George fell backward, landing on her rear in the floor of the sled.
“George!” Nancy hurried to her friend. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” George assured Nancy. Then she nodded toward the grinning doll, which was now lying on the floor, its head at an odd angle. “But I’m afraid he’s not.”
Nancy looked over at the fallen doll. “It’s the nutcracker,” Nancy said. “You know, the toy that Clara’s godfather gives her in the first act.” She bent down to pick up the doll’s head. The brightly painted face with its smiling mouthful of teeth looked even more sinister without its body.
“Looks as if we’re going to have to get another one, doesn’t it?” George said.
Suddenly, the prop room door flew open. “What’s going on in here?” It was Lawrence, followed by several young dancers, some in soldier costumes, others in tutus. Nancy recognized Michelle Edwards, Shana’s ten-year-old sister, who was playing the part of Clara.
“Nothing,” Nancy said, looking pointedly at Lawrence. “We’re just trying to find all the props.”
“My nutcracker!” Michelle wailed when she saw the broken head in Nancy’s hands.
“Oh, great,” Lawrence grumbled as he stepped toward the pillar. “One more thing around here to fix.” Stooping, he picked up the doll’s body and studied it.
Nancy thought Lawrence seemed more annoyed than surprised. He had just been in the prop room. Had he booby-trapped the pillar, hoping to scare or even hurt Nancy or George?
“Can you fix it, Lawrence?” Michelle asked anxiously.
Lawrence stood up. “Sure.” He smiled and patted Michelle’s head. “Now go on back to the studio. I’ll join you there in a minute.” When Michelle and the soldiers had gone, Lawrence turned to Nancy and George.
