“You two had better be more careful,” he said in a low voice. Then, tossing the nutcracker’s body to Nancy, he added with a chuckle, “You wouldn’t want to lose your head like this poor fellow, would you?”
Neither Nancy nor George thought his remark was funny. “We could have been hurt,” Nancy said. “Someone deliberately set the doll on top of the pillar.”
Lawrence frowned. “Do me a favor and leave the nutcracker in Madame Dugrand’s office, okay? I’ll take it home tonight and fix it.” With that, he turned and strode from the room.
Holding out her hand to George, Nancy helped her friend out of the sled. “Do you think he was threatening us when he said we should be careful?” George asked.
“I don’t know,” Nancy said, picking up the nutcracker doll and placing it in the seat of the sled. “Lawrence could easily have been putting the nutcracker doll on top of the pillar while he was in here instead of looking for the Mouse King headpiece.”
Just then the prop room door flew open once more. Nancy spun around, expecting to see Lawrence again.
It was Bess. “Lunchtime!” she announced cheerfully. “Actually, it’s way past lunchtime. I’m starved.”
“And we’re swamped,” Nancy waved her arm at all the opened boxes. “Lunch will have to wait.”
“How about if I go to Yogurt Heaven and bring something back?” Bess offered.
“Great idea.” Nancy pulled her car keys out of her purse and threw them to Bess.
When Bess had gone, George surveyed the room and groaned. “So where were we?”
Nancy laughed. “Still looking for the ornaments, I’m afraid. If I don’t find them, I’ll have to bring some from home. Maybe I can dress them up a bit with glitter and lace.”
“That sounds like a lot of work,” George said with a sigh. “Harder work than cross-country skiing.”
About twenty minutes later, Bess called, “I’m back!” She was carrying bags of food. “Lunch, anyone?”
“I’m famished,” George declared, dropping her marker and paper.
“Me, too,” Nancy agreed. She took the car keys from Bess and stuck them in her pocket. Her fingers touched the fabric of the handkerchief she’d found earlier on the stage.
“We’ll have a picnic.” Bess set the food on a box, then pulled up another box to sit on. “It’ll just be the three of us, though. Mrs. Wolaski was too busy to join us. That lady works like a beaver. I think she took only one break this morning.”
Nancy held up the lacy handkerchief. “Look what I found backstage. It’s a handkerchief with the initials G. T. embroidered on it. Does anyone here have those initials, Bess?”
Bess thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Why?”
“G. T. might just know something about the missing ornaments or the fire,” Nancy said. “I think I’ll ask Madame Dugrand if she knows who it belongs to.”
“Madame isn’t here,” Bess said, taking a bite of her sandwich. “She was going out as I was coming in. She said something about seeing the printers about the programs.”
Nancy tucked the handkerchief back into the pocket of her jeans, then joined George and Bess. “I’ll ask Madame about it tomorrow, then.”
Bess was about to take a sip of her drink when she noticed the nutcracker doll on the seat of the sled. Her eyes widened and she made a face. “What is that thing staring at me?”
“The nutcracker,” George replied. “Someone stuck him on top of the pillar, and when Nancy and I moved it, the doll fell down on us.”
“Weird.” Bess shook her head and shivered slightly.
Nancy paused before biting into her tuna roll. “I hope there aren’t any more booby traps in here.”
“Booby traps?” Bess repeated, looking around nervously. “Are you saying someone deliberately planted that doll up there so it would fall?”
“Not someone,” George corrected. “Lawrence.”
“We don’t know that for sure, George,” Nancy cautioned. “Who knows? It could be G. T., whoever that is.”
Standing up, Bess moved her box closer to Nancy’s. “I think I’ve lost my appetite,” she said. “Or maybe it’s the way that thing is watching me,” she added, glancing over at the nutcracker.
George started to giggle. “It’s just a doll, Bess.” Reaching into the sled, she turned the nutcracker head over so its face was hidden. Even Nancy had to admit she was glad the nutcracker was no longer looking at them.
• • •
Nancy and Bess arrived early at the dance school on Saturday morning. Bess headed straight for the wardrobe room. Nancy took the box of ornaments she’d found in her attic at home to the prop room. The ornaments wouldn’t exactly pass for antiques, but with a little dressing up, they’d work fine. Setting down the box, Nancy went back down the hall to talk to Madame Dugrand.
“Come in,” Madame called when Nancy knocked on her office door.
The directress was sitting at her desk, a bright smile on her face. “I have good news, Nancy. The programs will be ready Wednesday morning after all. Now I can relax and have a good time at the gala tonight.”
She sounded so happy and relieved that Nancy decided not to mention Mrs. Farnsworth’s missing ornaments until after the party.
“I’m looking forward to the gala, too,” Nancy told the directress.
Madame stood up. “So, what can I do for you?”
“Has anyone mentioned losing a handkerchief?” Nancy asked, taking the lacy square of fabric from her pocket. “I found this yesterday.”
Madame took the handkerchief from Nancy and examined it for a moment before handing it back. “G. T.” The directress murmured, then shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t know anyone with those initials.”
