The Nutcracker Ballet Mystery (11 page)

Nancy raised one brow. “Stole Lawrence? I didn’t

know you two were even dating. And from what I can

see, Shana and Lawrence aren’t exactly on good

terms.”

Darci snorted and threw the paper towel in the

trash. “Yeah? Well, even hotshot detectives don’t know

everything.”

Nancy wondered what Darci meant. But one thing

was for sure: Darci was in no mood to confess. Nancy

would have to try tripping her up. “You mean, things

like who broke into the dance school?” Nancy said,

studying Darci’s face to see how the girl would react.

But Darci just looked at her curiously, then opened her

purse to pull out a lipstick. “Or who turned on the

snow machine at rehearsal the other day?” Nancy

continued.

Darci spun around. “That wasn’t me!” she cried.

Flinging her lipstick back into her purse, she pushed

past Nancy and headed to the door. Her face was

flushed, and she looked as if she was about to cry again.

“Darci, wait.” Nancy grabbed the girl’s elbow, but

Darci jerked her arm from Nancy’s grasp. “I’d like to

help,” Nancy said gently.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Darci spat out. “You just want to

make sure that Miss Big Star Shana doesn’t go back to

New York. Well, I’m sorry Madame got hurt, but I

wouldn’t be sorry if my sister fell and broke her stupid

neck!”

Darci ran from the ladies room. Nancy sprinted after

her, but when she reached the door, it swung toward

her and she had to jump back. An elderly woman

wearing a high-necked velvet dress and pearls had

walked into the ladies room. It was Mrs. Farnsworth.

“Well, hello, Miss Drew,” she said in a polite voice,

but her gaze bore into Nancy like a drill. “Have you

located my ornaments yet?”

Nancy was caught off guard. “Uh, no,” she

stammered. “But I know what happened to them,” she

added quickly, trying to edge around the woman. “In

fact, that’s what I’ve been working on tonight, so if

you’ll excuse me—” She flashed Mrs. Farnsworth a big

smile, then squeezed past her and dashed into the

lobby.

Seeing that Darci wasn’t there, Nancy hurried into

the main dining hall. Shana was next to the dessert

table, talking to Bess. Standing on tiptoe, Nancy

scanned the crowd for Lawrence. Had he taken Darci

home? Then she spotted him, next to Madame and

several parents who appeared to be leaving with tired

kids. Nancy checked her watch. It was almost eleven.

Bess caught sight of Nancy and waved. “Boy, you

should have a piece of this cake,” she said when Nancy

walked up to her and Shana.

“Did you see Darci?” Nancy asked.

“Yes,” Shana replied. “She burst in here a second

ago and told my dad that she was feeling sick and

wanted to go home. They’re probably getting their

coats.”

“I guess Darci didn’t confess,” Bess said.

Shana shook her head. “There’s no way Darci drove

that van. My sister may have done some stupid things

these last couple of days, and maybe she was trying to

ruin the ballet. But she wouldn’t hurt anyone on

purpose.”

Shana sighed heavily and set down her cake plate.

“I’m exhausted. I guess I’d better round up my mother

and Michelle. Dad will be back in a few minutes to get

us. I’ll see you two Monday, okay?”

Nancy and Bess nodded and waved goodbye. Then

Nancy turned to the dessert table and cut herself a

slice of cake. “I’m convinced I’m missing something,”

she told Bess, frowning. “I’ve been so sure the

troublemakers were Lawrence and Darci that I haven’t

suspected anyone else. Maybe . . .”

“Oh, come on, Nancy,” Bess chided as she studied a

tray of cookies. “It has to be them. Shana’s just sticking

up for her sister. I mean, Lawrence and Darci are the

only ones with motives, right?”

“True.” Still, something was nagging at Nancy. Then

she realized what it was that was bothering her: the

footprints.

Plunking her plate on the table, Nancy twirled

around. “Come on, we’ve got to go,” she told Bess. “I

need to check out those footprints before the snow

covers them. We may be too late already.”

“What?” With a look of dismay, Bess glanced at the

dessert table, then back at Nancy. “We’re going to

leave all this?”

“Yup.” Grabbing Bess’s hand, Nancy began to lead

her friend to the coatroom. “To make up for it, I’ll owe

you a sundae at Yogurt Heaven.”

Soon Nancy and Bess were back in the dance

school’s parking lot. The snow had stopped, but now

there was a confusion of footprints around the van.

“The police must have been here,” Nancy guessed.

“They were probably trying to verify that this was the

vehicle that rammed us.”

“How are you going to find Darci’s prints in all this

mess?” Bess asked.

Flicking on her flashlight, Nancy walked from the

van’s passenger side to the road. “I’ll have to find the

path she made,” she said.

Suddenly, Nancy bent down. “Here they are,” she

told Bess excitedly. “Just as I thought.” Nancy shined

the light on the perfect prints.

“Are you going to fill me in?” Bess asked. Her teeth

were chattering, and she was rubbing her hands up and

down on her coat sleeves. “Before I freeze to death?”

Nodding, Nancy stood up. “Those footprints are

about the same size as Darci’s, which is why I

immediately thought she’d made them. But now I’m

not so sure.” She aimed the light closer. “Look at the

pointy toes.”

“So? Maybe Darci borrowed her mother’s shoes.”

Nancy flicked off the light. “Maybe. But if you were

a teenager out to burglarize someplace, what would

you wear?”

Bess thought for a moment. “Probably my flat-

heeled boots or my tennis shoes.”

“Exactly.” Nancy started back to the Mustang.

Bess followed behind her. “Okay. So what do the

pointy shoes prove?”

“Nothing,” Nancy told her. “Yet. But maybe Shana’s

right. I need to stop concentrating on just Darci and

Lawrence.” When she reached the car, Nancy turned

and gave Bess a troubled look. “There may be others

who are out to ruin The Nutcracker.”

* * *

“So what else did I miss?” George asked Bess and

Nancy as they drove through the snow-covered pine

forest. It was Sunday morning, and the girls were

headed into the park to cross-country ski. “A car chase,

a mouse-headed monster, and missing ornaments,”

George went on. “My ski party wasn’t half as exciting.”

Nancy laughed. “We’re going with you today so we

can forget all the excitement at the dance school.”

“Boy, would I like to forget it.” Bess yawned from

the backseat of Nancy’s Mustang. “I’m exhausted from

all that sloshing around in the snow. Not that I would

have picked skiing to help me forget. A buffet breakfast

at some trendy new restaurant is more my style.”

“That’s for sure.” George laughed. “I’m surprised

you volunteered to go with us.”

“It was either that or go into the dance school,” Bess

explained. “Madame actually called this morning to say

that Mrs. Wolaski was showing up and would I like to

come in and help. I had to think of a quick excuse.

Going skiing with you two was the only thing I could

think of.”

“I talked to Madame this morning, too,” Nancy said.

“The police contacted her. The ballet school’s van was

definitely the one that ran into us. Fortunately, since

Madame can prove she wasn’t driving it, she won’t be

liable.” Nancy frowned. “Unfortunately, Lawrence

can’t prove he wasn’t driving it. The police said he has

no alibi, except when he was with Darci, and that

wasn’t until later. And since Lawrence is an employee

of the school, the school can be liable for the damages

to all the other cars.”

Bess groaned. “Oh, no. Poor Madame. She doesn’t

need lawsuits on top of everything else.”

“Which means you’ve got to prove who was driving

that van, Nancy,” George said.

Nancy nodded as she pulled the Mustang into the

parking lot. “And soon.”

But half an hour later, when the girls skied into the

park, Nancy tried to forget about Madame and her

problems. The sun was sparkling through the branches

of the pine trees, making the snow glisten. And since it

was fairly early, the three of them had the trail all to

themselves.

“Ready for something besides the beginner trail?”

George called to Bess when they reached an

intersection in the trails. She pointed up a hill with her

ski pole.

“Uh, I don’t know.” Bess’s cheeks were bright red

from the cold and exercise. “I always forget how much

work this is. Can’t we go back and have lunch?”

With a grin, Nancy checked her watch. “It’s only ten

o’clock. And why would you want to be inside on such a

great day?” She looked up through the trees. “Just look

at that sky.”

“Not without my dark glasses,” Bess grumbled.

“Cheer up, Bess.” George laughed at the disgruntled

expression on her cousin’s face. “It sounds like help is

on the way. Hear that engine? Maybe it’s a park ranger

bringing us some hot chocolate.”

Nancy looked up the intermediate trail. It sounded

as if the snowmobile was coming down the steep hill.

Suddenly it zoomed into sight, bouncing over a

ledge of rock and tearing down the trail toward them.

Nancy caught a glimpse of the driver. He was wearing

a black ski mask over his head.

“That’s no park ranger,” George called over her

shoulder. “This guy’s not supposed to be on the trail.”

“Maybe we’d better tell him.” Nancy slid her skis

forward. The driver was going down the hill very fast,

and instead of slowing down as he approached them,

Nancy heard him accelerate. He was going to run right

into them!

“Get off the trail,” Nancy yelled, waving her ski pole

at George and Bess.

Doing a neat turn, Nancy quickly coasted into the

woods. Ahead of her, she could see George ski into a

small grove of pines. But right behind her, Bess was

still on the trail. Her left ski was crossed under her

right one, and she couldn’t move.

“Bess, hurry!” Nancy cried. “I can’t,” Bess wailed.

Suddenly, she toppled sideways, landing in the middle

of the trail.

“Bess!” Nancy flipped her own skis around. But as

she looked back up the trail, her heart caught in her

throat. The snowmobile was barreling down, picking

up speed. And the driver was leaning over the

handlebars, steering right for Bess!

Nancy threw herself forward into the snow. Reaching

in front of her, she grabbed Bess’s ski jacket. Using all

her strength, Nancy pulled her off the trail.

The snowmobile zoomed past in a spray of snow,

running over the back tips of Bess’s skis. Then it

skidded to a stop, spun around, and faced them again.

“Look out! It’s coming back!” Nancy screamed.

Scrambling to her knees, Nancy tried to free her boots

from the bindings.

“Nancy, get down!” she heard George yell. Looking

up, she saw her friend standing in the middle of the

trail. George’s skis were off, and she was holding a tree

branch in both hands like a baseball bat.

Dropping down, Nancy flattened herself against the

snow. She could hear Bess breathing heavily beside

her. But after seeing George, the snowmobiler

apparently had second thoughts. With a roar of the

motor, he turned around and headed away from them.

“Whew. That was a close one,” George finally

gasped. Throwing down the branch, she reached out

her hand to Nancy. “Let me help you up.”

Nancy struggled to her feet, managing to get her skis

going in the right direction. “That was a close call,” she

said.

“Oooo. It feels like I broke both ankles,” Bess said

from the ground. Putting her hands under Bess’s arms,

George lifted her cousin up. Bess’s skis angled wildly

into the air, and her poles were on the other side of the

trail.

Once she was safely on her feet, Bess gave George a

pat on the back. “Thanks for scaring that creep off,”

she said. “Whoever it was, he sure wasn’t fooling