“So why do you think the snowmobiler tried to run us over?” George asked Nancy an hour later. The two girls were in the prop room, painting red and white stripes on the pillars. Nancy was standing on top of two boxes, trying to reach the top of a pillar.
“My guess is that the person was trying to scare us off.” Nancy bent down and dipped her brush in the red paint. “Unless they really were trying to hurt one of us,” she added grimly. “After all, with Bess or me out of the way, it would help foul up the production. There are only four more days until the dress rehearsal.”
George looked up at Nancy and a drip of paint splattered on her cheek. “Hey!” George laughed. “Let’s keep it on the pillars, okay?” Then her tone grew serious. “You know, until the snowmobile thing, nobody has really gotten hurt. But the snowmobile”—she shuddered—“could have broken both Bess’s legs.”
“Mmmm.” Nancy stopped painting. “Well, if our culprits’ plan is to sabotage The Nutcracker, then we’ve foiled them. So far, everybody’s worked hard to keep the show on schedule. That means whoever the culprits are, they’re starting to get desperate.”
George nodded. “You’re right. Now we just have to figure out who did it.”
“Who did what?” a deep voice asked from the doorway.
Nancy swung around. Lawrence was leaning against the door frame, his hands clasped behind him. For a second, butterflies fluttered in Nancy’s stomach as she wondered what he was holding. Another tire iron?
“We were trying to figure out who broke into the school,” George answered.
Lawrence snorted. “That’s easy. Ms. Drew and Ms. Marvin broke into the school. Then they made up a stupid story about some mouse attacking them.”
Nancy jumped lightly off the boxes. “Oh, really?” she raised one brow. “Then who locked us in the prop room? You?”
Lawrence stepped forward, his arms still behind him. “You’ve already accused me once. Why don’t you use your imagination? Maybe you girls locked yourselves in on purpose.”
“Why, that’s a clever thought.” Nancy pretended to be surprised. She moved closer to George and out of Lawrence’s reach. Even though he had a teasing smile on his face, she wasn’t sure what he was up to. “And why would we do that?”
Lawrence shrugged. “To make me look bad. I think you’re working with our prima ballerina, Ms. Shana Edwards. And I know she would do anything to keep me down.”
Suddenly, the dancer thrust one hand from behind his back and into Nancy’s face. Startled, Nancy jumped backward, knocking into George. Wide eyes and a wicked, toothy grin stared back at Nancy. It was the nutcracker doll.
Lawrence laughed. “Nasty-looking little fellow, isn’t he? But he’s as good as new. So how about putting him in a safe place until Thursday’s dress rehearsal? I don’t want to have to fix him again.”
“You didn’t need to scare us with him like that.” George snatched the doll from Lawrence’s hands.
Just then, a scream from the hall made all of them freeze.
“That’s Shana!” Lawrence yelled, a horrified expression on his face. Turning, he dashed out the prop room door. Nancy and George raced down the hall behind him.
Nancy could see Shana standing at the top of the basement steps. The pretty dancer’s green eyes were wide with horror as she cradled her Sugar Plum Fairy costume in her arms.
“Just look what someone has done to my costume!” Shana cried. “It’s ruined.” She held up the once-beautiful dress. Its satin bodice had been cut to shreds!
14
As Time Goes By
“Shana! Are you all right?” Lawrence asked, throwing his arms around the frightened dancer.
Tears welled in Shana’s eyes. “Yes,” she said shakily. “But when I went to the wardrobe room to try on my costume, I found it thrown into a corner.” Shana held up the costume again. Jagged lines zigzagged through the satin bodice, and the wispy silver tulle skirt had been yanked from the top.
“It’s been cut with very sharp scissors,” Nancy said, fingering the ruined dress.
“What’s going on?” Madame Dugrand came up behind Nancy. When she saw the costume, she let out a cry. “Shana! Your beautiful costume! Who would do such a thing?”
“Her costume?” a trembling voice broke in from down the hall. “Has something happened to it?”
Nancy turned to see Mrs. Wolaski come out of studio A, grasping Michelle Edwards’s hand for balance. Michelle was dressed in her Clara nightgown. One sleeve had just been pinned on. Behind Michelle and the wardrobe mistress, Bess was carrying a tape measure and pin cushion.
Mrs. Wolaski’s face paled as she hobbled toward Shana. Reaching out, she gently took the shredded garment from Shana’s arms.
“All my hard work destroyed,” she said in a quivery voice.
Madame put her arm around Mrs. Wolaski’s shoulders. “Oh, Gertrude. I’m so sorry.”
Michelle burst out crying and flung herself at her sister. “Shana. What are you going to do? Now you can’t be the Sugar Plum Fairy, and—”
“Hey!” Bess broke in. She knelt down and put an arm around Michelle. “Have some faith. Mrs. Wolaski and I will perform a little magic and make your sister a whole new costume.”
“Really?” Michelle sniffed.
“Really,” Bess replied. But when Nancy glanced over at the white-haired wardrobe mistress, she wasn’t sure the older woman was up to it. Her shoulders were slumped in defeat.
“This whole thing was directed at me,” Mrs. Wolaski said, looking at Madame. “Everyone knows I spent weeks designing and making this costume.”
“No. You’re wrong,” Shana said bitterly. “It’s me the person’s after.” She looked directly at Lawrence. “I think you did this to hurt me. You and Darci.”
“Now wait just a minute,” Lawrence retorted. “I’m sick of being Mr. Bad Guy. This show is just as important to me. Why would I ruin it?”
George spoke up. “Because you and Darci are both jealous of Shana.”
“And you and Darci were the only two who weren’t at the gala all night,” Bess chimed in. “You had to be the ones who broke into the school and rammed our car.”
