“Like what?” George asked.
Bess’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Well, two girls had toe shoes stolen from their lockers. And there’s been a lot of bickering among the kids and parents, too, about who got what part.”
“There was always grumbling,” Nancy reminded her. “I mean, even though we weren’t very good dancers, we still thought we should’ve had the lead roles.” Bess slid the soldier uniform back with the others. “Yeah, but this seems different. Madame’s so nervous it’s affecting everyone.”
“How’s Shana taking all of this?” George asked. “She did come all the way from New York for the production.”
“I don’t know if Shana has any idea of what’s going on,” Bess said, taking her coat from the back of a chair. “But I do know she wants to see you both.”
“Great,” George said.
“Let me buy a ticket to the gala, then we can find Shana and say hello,” Nancy suggested.
“Good idea,” Bess said.
The girls headed upstairs, where the hallway was no longer empty. This time, several older boys and girls dressed in sweats and leotards were limbering up before the next class.
When Nancy, George, and Bess reached Madame Dugrand’s office, the door was open. Looking over Bess’s shoulder, Nancy noticed that the small area was filled with file folders and papers. Madame Dugrand, a slim, attractive woman in her early fifties, was sitting in a swivel chair behind an old-fashioned rolltop desk. The desk was cluttered with papers and envelopes, and to the right of it was a computer on a stand.
Bess knocked on the door frame, and Madame looked up from an open ledger. When she saw who it was, she smiled brightly. Nancy thought that despite her gray hair, Madame hadn’t aged since they’d been students eight years ago.
“Bess!” the directress exclaimed, standing up. “How do the costumes look?”
“Great. The Sugar Plum Fairy costume is a work of art.” Bess stepped into the office, then motioned to Nancy and George. “I brought two former students to see you. And one of them wants to buy a gala ticket.”
Madame’s smile widened. “Nancy Drew and George Fayne! What a pleasant surprise!”
“Nancy’s the one who needs a ticket,” George explained. “I wish I could go to the gala, too,” she added quickly, “but I have a party that night after a cross-country race.”
“You always were athletic,” Madame Dugrand told her. “And, Nancy, what are you up to these days?”
“She’s only the best teen detective in the world,” Bess cut in.
Nancy laughed. “Not exactly ‘the best.’”
“Well, I’m glad you’ll be able to come to the gala,” Madame said as she opened her desk drawer and hunted for the tickets. “As I recall, you three used to know Shana—”
Suddenly, a high-pitched alarm went off.
Bess jumped nervously. “What’s that?”
In a flash, Madame Dugrand rushed past the girls and into the hall. “The fire alarm,” she called over her shoulder.
Following Madame Dugrand into the hallway, Nancy asked, “Was there a fire drill scheduled for today?”
“No!” Madame exclaimed, breaking into a jog. “This must be a real fire!”
2
Old Times, New Crimes
“We have to get the students out of the building right away!” Madame Dugrand’s voice was frantic.
Nancy knew they had to hurry. A faint whiff of smoke was already drifting down the hall. Bess and George were right behind her. “Bess!” Nancy called. “Phone the fire department. Then run down to the basement and make sure Mrs. Wolaski heard the fire alarm.”
With a nod, Bess picked up the office phone. “I’ll check to see that the locker room is cleared,” George said, heading through a swinging door.
Nancy and Madame Dugrand raced down the hall and into the first studio.
An older girl was standing in the center of the room, a panic-stricken expression on her face. Several kids were dashing back and forth, squealing loudly.
Madame Dugrand clapped her hands several times. “Quiet!” she commanded. “Line up behind Miss Sarah.”
Realizing Madame Dugrand had the situation in hand, Nancy rushed to the next room. A tall, striking red-haired woman was waving a dozen girls in leotards toward the doorway. Nancy realized the redhead was Shana Edwards.
“Class! Get in line!” Shana ordered in a firm voice.
Nancy grabbed two young boys as they attempted to dash by her and pushed them into the line behind Shana. “Quickly, you must leave the building!” Nancy said as she helped herd the group into the hall.
Bess dashed up beside her. “The basement’s empty,” she gasped. “Mrs. Wolaski must already be outside.”
A girl about nine years old stopped and tugged on Nancy’s sleeve. “What about our coats?” she asked. Her hair was the same shade of red as Shana’s. “Can’t we run into the dressing room for them?”
Bess shook her head. “No, Michelle. We must do what we did during our drill earlier this week. Now, hurry and follow your sister.” She gave the girl a gentle push toward the outside door.
“That’s Shana’s little sister, Michelle,” Bess whispered to Nancy as they hurried to check the recital hall. “She’s Clara in The Nutcracker this year.”
Bess helped Nancy open the double doors into the recital hall. The two of them peered inside. The long rows of chairs and dark stage looked empty. Nancy sniffed the air.
