“No problem,” Nancy replied. “Listen, I’ve got to pick up my ticket for the gala, then I’ll meet you guys in—”
“Studio A,” Shana filled in. Then, linking her arms with Bess’s and George’s, she hurried them down the hall.
Nancy continued toward the stage area. She knew the fire chief had probably been thorough, but maybe he hadn’t looked beyond the cigarette. Even Nancy wasn’t sure what she should be looking for. Had the fire been deliberately set? Bess had said earlier that strange things were going on at the school. Unfortunately, except for a few scenery panels that were being painted, the stage was empty. The firemen had removed the torn curtain, and Nancy couldn’t find anything that looked suspicious.
When she got back to Madame Dugrand’s office, Nancy found the ballet directress sitting at her desk, a worried frown creasing her brow.
After Nancy bought a ticket to the gala, she said, “I’m really sorry about the fire.”
Madame Dugrand forced a thin smile. “Oh, the fire is just one more problem to add to a long list. Mrs. Patterson, the mother who quit and took her daughter with her, was in charge of the props for the show.” Madame threw up her hands. “I just don’t have time to organize the props. This year’s Nutcracker is turning into a disaster.”
“Maybe I can help,” Nancy offered.
Madame Dugrand’s blue eyes brightened. “Do you mean it? Oh, that would be wonderful, Nancy!” she exclaimed.
“I’ll start tomorrow,” Nancy promised.
“I can’t thank you enough,” declared the directress, getting to her feet. “Now, I must find Lawrence.”
“Who’s Lawrence?” Nancy asked.
“Lawrence Steele dances here at the school. He’ll be the Cavalier dancing opposite the Sugar Plum Fairy. He also teaches classes and helps me with the maintenance of the building. He needs to get right to work on correcting those fire code violations.”
Nancy frowned. “That reminds me. Do you know which fire alarm was set off?” she asked, following Madame Dugrand into the hallway.
The directress nodded. “The smoke detector over the stage went off automatically.”
That didn’t sound suspicious, Nancy thought. Maybe she should quit hunting for a mystery.
When Nancy reached studio A, Shana was standing next to a small, pinch-faced man in his early twenties. He was sitting at a big, black upright piano, frowning at the sheet of music propped in front of him. In the middle of the bare wooden floor, nine girls about sixteen years old were limbering up.
“See that girl over there?” Bess said when Nancy rejoined her and George. The cousins were sitting on a bench in front of a mirrored wall. Skylights brightened the windowless room.
“Which one?” Nancy asked as she sat down.
“The one with the purple tights.” Bess pointed toward a pretty girl with shiny chestnut hair and green eyes. “That’s Darci Edwards.”
“That’s right. There are three Edwards sisters,” George remarked. “They all look alike.”
Bess nodded. “And all three of them are talented. Darci’s dancing Dewdrop in the Dance of the Flowers.”
“And who’s that?” Nancy asked, nodding toward the piano player. “I didn’t see him outside.”
“That’s Roger Lutz, the accompanist,” Bess replied. “He only works here part-time. He’s still in music school, I think. He’s playing piano for Madame to get more experience. Maybe he arrived after the fire alarm.”
“He looks like a mouse,” George said.
“He’s quiet like one, too,” Bess added. “At least, he never talks to anyone. Madame Dugrand likes him, though. She’d been using tapes in her classes, but real music is so much better. Then Roger showed up about a month ago, saying he needed the experience. Plus, he knew Madame had contacts in New York for when he graduated from music school.”
Just then Shana looked their way. Nancy waved. Shana smiled and waved back, then walked over.
“You’re just in time. The girls and I are going to warm up at the barre.” She pointed to the long wooden pole attached to the far wall. “Then we’ll put on our toe shoes and do some floor work.”
“It sounds exciting!” Bess gushed.
“Believe me, it’s work.” Shana chuckled as she gracefully walked to the center of the room. When she clapped her hands, each dancer found a place at the barre.
Shana went to the shorter demonstration barre at the side of the room. She nodded at Roger, and he began playing a slow, dramatic piece.
Placing her hand lightly on the barre, Shana slowly extended her right leg in front of her.
“Shana makes everything look so easy,” Nancy whispered, leaning closer to Bess.
Her friend giggled. “Only we know how hard it is. I never could get my leg up on that stupid—Oh, no!” Bess suddenly gasped.
Nancy swung her head around to look at Shana. The barre had pulled clean away from the wall, crashing down on Shana’s support leg. With a cry of pain, the dancer toppled backward, landing awkwardly on the hard, wooden floor.
3
Partners in Spite
Nancy, Bess, and George raced to the fallen dancer’s side. Roger Lutz, the accompanist, reached Shana first.
“Take the other end of the pole,” he told the girls in a low voice. Together, the four of them lifted the barre off Shana’s ankle.
“Are you all right?” Nancy asked, helping Shana sit up.
“I—I think so,” Shana said uncertainly. She probed her ankle with her fingers. “Just bruised,” she added, taking a shaky breath.
