Lawrence turned bright red. “That’s crazy. You want to know what Darci and I did last night?”
“Yes,” Shana replied in a quiet voice.
Everyone stared expectantly at Lawrence. For a second, he looked around at all the faces. Then he let out a sigh.
“All right. I didn’t want to say anything, because Darci made me promise not to. She’s afraid of what might happen, and . . .” He hesitated. “Well, she’s kind of embarrassed.”
“Excuse me,” Mrs. Wolaski interrupted. “But I’d better go downstairs and work on Shana’s costume. Maybe the skirt can be saved, and I can take a bodice from another costume, and . . .” Turning, she started down the steps, muttering to herself.
“I don’t know why you’re all so mad at Darci,” Michelle said suddenly. “She’s still at home. Dad’s bringing her later. She couldn’t have cut up the costume.”
Shana sighed. “You just don’t understand, Michelle.”
“Maybe I should finish fitting Michelle’s costume,” Bess suggested. Taking the younger girl’s hand, she led her back to studio A.
“So go on, Lawrence,” Shana said, her voice trembling a bit.
He held up one hand. “Look, this isn’t easy. I feel like I’m betraying Darci.”
“Well, someone needs to explain what’s going on,” Nancy said. “The dress rehearsal is four days away. Whoever is trying to ruin the show is getting desperate.”
Lawrence shook his head. “All I can do is tell you what happened and hope you’ll believe me for once.”
“I’ll believe you, Lawrence,” Madame said, patting his arm. “You’ve been like a son to me. I can’t imagine you doing anything to hurt me.”
“Thanks.” Lawrence gave her an appreciative grin, then glanced at Shana.
Madame motioned them all to follow her down the hall. “I think we’d better discuss this in my office,” she suggested.
When everyone had piled into the office, Lawrence took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll admit that, when Shana came back and Madame asked her to help with the choreography, I was plenty mad. I even tried to make Shana look bad at rehearsals, which I’m sorry for. It was stupid of me, and when Shana almost fell, well, I guess I realized how foolish I’d been.”
He glanced up at Shana, his gaze apologetic. “I know now that you were only trying to help make The Nutcracker a success. You weren’t trying to hurt me.”
“What about Darci?” Nancy prompted.
“Well, Darci was really bent out of shape—big time,” Lawrence continued. “She’d convinced herself that the part of the Sugar Plum Fairy would be hers. And”—his cheeks flushed—“she convinced herself that we had some kind of relationship. When I saw how overboard Darci was going, and how she was ruining the production for everyone, well, I tried to talk some sense into her.”
Nancy nodded. “But she wouldn’t listen.”
“Oh, she listened,” Lawrence said, running a hand through his blond hair. “She even admitted that she filled the snow machine with soap flakes and turned it on. She thought it would just mess things up. When she heard that Madame fell, she got pretty scared.”
“And, uh, what about you and Darci?” Shana asked, stammering. Nancy saw a deep blush creep up the dancer’s cheeks.
“Last night, before the gala, I told her we were just good friends,” Lawrence explained, his eyes on Shana. “I guess Darci thought otherwise. She didn’t take it real well.”
Madame sighed and sat down on her office chair. “I feel this is all my fault. If only I’d noticed that everyone was so upset, I could have talked to Darci.”
Nancy frowned and began pacing the short distance across the office. “No, it’s not your fault, Madame. You had a lot on your mind. Someone made sure you had a lot on your mind. The fire, the ruined costumes, the stolen ornaments, Shana’s near-accidents, the canceled programs.” Halting in front of Lawrence, she gave him a stern look. “So what you’re saying is, except for the snow machine, nothing else was Darci’s fault.”
Lawrence nodded. “That’s the truth.”
“Then we’ll have to start working together to find out who’s responsible for all of this.” Nancy then told Shana, Madame, and Lawrence about the snowmobiler.
Lawrence whistled. “Wow. Someone means business.”
“Actually, I think there are two people involved,” Nancy said to Lawrence. “Which was another reason I suspected you and Darci.”
Madame threw up her hands. “Maybe we should just cancel the whole production. Then no one will get hurt.”
Nancy shook her head. “That’s exactly what the culprits want.”
“What’s going on here?” a shrill voice cut in from the office door. All heads swung in that direction. Darci was standing in the doorway, looking from face to face with a stunned expression.
Then her gaze rested on Lawrence. “You told them, didn’t you?” she accused. Tears started to spill down her cheeks. “Well, I hate you. I hate all of you!” She spun around, but Shana rushed over and grabbed her sister’s arm.
“Darci, stop. There’s been enough anger and jealousy. Lawrence had to tell us everything. We had to know that the two of you weren’t involved in all the terrible things that have been happening here.”
“But I was involved,” Darci sobbed. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. It’s just that . . . I was so mad at everyone. And I thought no one cared about me.”
“There, there.” Madame pulled a tissue out of her pocket and advanced on the two sisters. “I don’t blame you, Darci. If it had happened to me, I would have been upset, too.”
Nancy remembered Madame’s story about Grace Turner. If only they could get that age progression back this afternoon! She had a feeling the old photo held a very important clue.
Darci blew her nose loudly, and Shana put her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “Feeling better?” Shana asked. Darci nodded.
“I know this is a little late,” Madame said to Darci, a twinkle in her eye. “But since you know the dances already, how would you like to be the Sugar Plum Fairy in one of the matinees? That is, if it’s all right with you, Shana,” she added quickly.
Both girls nodded. Then Darci hugged Madame. “I’m sorry I caused so much trouble.”
