Meanwhile, Shana’s students had formed a half-circle around her.
“Can you stand up?” Bess asked.
“I’ll try,” Shana said. She extended a hand toward Nancy. Roger supported her other elbow, and together they helped Shana to her feet. As soon as she was standing, all of her students applauded . . . all except Shana’s sister, Darci, Nancy noticed. Darci’s arms remained folded across her chest. Then she turned abruptly and went back to the other barre.
Nancy was puzzled. She would have thought Shana’s sister would be the most concerned.
“Careful, Shana,” one of the other students said. “You don’t want to pull a tightened muscle.”
“You’re right, April,” Shana agreed. She was still holding on to Nancy’s arm, her weight off her bruised leg. “I think I’d better reschedule this class for later. You girls can go. I’ll post the new time after I talk to Madame Dugrand.”
“What about me?” Roger said in a sulky voice. “I may not be available later.”
Nancy looked up at him. He had thin, brown hair, and a sparse mustache dusted his upper lip. George was right, Nancy thought. He really did look like a mouse.
“I understand,” Shana said, nodding. “I’ll just have to use a tape, if that’s the case.”
“Fine,” Roger grunted. Not bothering to hide his annoyance, he returned to the piano and quickly gathered up his music. The other students were already collecting the dance bags, leg warmers, towels, and shawls that they’d left scattered about the room.
“What’s his problem?” George asked Shana when Roger and the students had left. She and Nancy were helping Shana over to the bench.
“The same problem everyone else around here has,” Shana replied, limping awkwardly.
“Madame calls it preperformance jitters,” Bess explained as Shana sat down.
Shana shook her head. “I’m afraid it’s more than that, Bess. I’ve been in quite a few shows both here and in New York. Things can get pretty tense before a performance all right, but I’ve never experienced anything like this.”
“I guess the fire didn’t help,” George said. “And the barre falling like that was kind of strange. But when things get run down, as they have in this place, accidents do happen.”
“That might explain the falling ballet barre, George,” Nancy said, “but it doesn’t explain the stealing Bess mentioned.”
“Stealing?” Shana’s brows raised. “I hadn’t heard about that.”
“Two days ago, Tiffany Patterson’s toe shoes disappeared, then Maria Ramirez’s tutu,” Bess explained.
“So that’s why Mrs. Patterson was so mad,” Nancy said thoughtfully. “She told Madame Dugrand that the fire was the last straw. Then she quit as the prop manager, and she also withdrew Tiffany from the school.”
“Oh, no!” Bess exclaimed. “That’s the third student this week.” She sighed. “Mrs. Wolaski said the parents didn’t think the level of professionalism was high enough.”
“With Mrs. Patterson gone, who’ll be in charge of props?” Shana asked.
Nancy grinned. “Me. And I’m sure my good friend George will help when she’s not training for her race.” Nancy threw an arm around George’s shoulders, and all three girls looked at George expectantly.
“Okay, okay,” George said with a laugh. “You guys would probably toss me into a snowdrift if I said no.”
“Well, at least that problem’s solved.” Shana sighed. “I mean, I sure want to help Madame. I owe her so much. But I don’t want to get injured doing it.” She glanced back at the fallen barre.
“I don’t blame you.” Nancy walked over to the wooden pole. Kneeling down, she examined the ends of the barre, then looked up at the wall from which it had fallen.
“I don’t think the barre came away from the wall by accident,” Nancy said with a frown. Standing up, she turned to face the others. “Someone deliberately loosened it.”
“How can you tell?” Shana asked.
“There should have been four screws on each of the brackets that hold the barre to the wall.” Nancy recrossed the room and showed the girls the screws she’d found. “All together there should be eight screws, but I only found these two.”
“Maybe the others rolled away or something,” Bess suggested.
Nancy shook her head. “One or two screws might roll away. But not six. Someone removed most of them, knowing that the remaining ones couldn’t support a dancer’s weight.”
“Are you saying someone tried to hurt me on purpose?” Shana asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Nancy shook her head. “I don’t know. Were you the only teacher using studio A today?”
Shana thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I think so.”
“Maybe the fire and the falling barre are related,” George said. “Someone set the fire, and when the place was empty, they sneaked in and unscrewed the screws.”
“But who would do that?” Bess asked. “And why?”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Shana added, rubbing her ankle. “Why would someone want to hurt me?”
“I don’t know,” Nancy admitted. “But I intend to find out.”
Shana looked relieved. “Thanks, Nancy. I’m sure you can do it. Even in New York, I remember reading about one of the cases you solved.”
“Just remember, though, that my being on this case is strictly unofficial,” Nancy cautioned everyone. “Madame Dugrand has enough on her mind—I don’t want her thinking she has a case of serious crime on her hands, too. And there might not be anything going on here after all.”
Slowly, Shana got to her feet. “Well, I’d better put some ice on this. I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass on lunch.”
