The Red Slippers (Nancy Drew Diaries #11)(14)

“Nancy!” Bess shrieked, running over to me. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “I actually got a lead, but I’m not sure it makes sense.”

“What is it?” George asked.

“No,” Bess said. “Before we do any more investigating, we need to get you into dry clothes. You could get hypothermia!”

“We’re close to the hotel. Sebastian and I need to get back for curfew, and I could lend you some dry clothes,” Maggie said.

“The hotel is a lot closer than your house,” George confirmed.

“Sounds good,” I agreed.

Bess held out her hand.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re not driving,” she said. I wavered for a second, about to protest, but the look on Bess’s face told me arguing would be pointless. I handed her the key.

Once we were in the car, Bess turned up the heat full blast. I could see sweat beading on everyone else’s foreheads, but I was grateful for the warmth. In a few minutes, I had stopped shivering and feeling had returned to my toes.

“The waiter said he saw another dancer and her father in the restaurant,” I told them. “I followed the car and it was Mike Carter with a girl, but I couldn’t see her face.”

“I knew that guy was up to no good,” George said.

“Yeah, but who was he with?” I asked. “Does Colin have a sister?”

“No,” Maggie answered. “Colin’s an only child. And why would Mike care if I dance tomorrow? He just doesn’t want Colin to dance.”

“Maybe he thinks that Jamison will cancel the show if you’re not dancing, rather than let Oscar see an inferior performance.”

Maggie shook her head. “There’s no way. Jamison would never, ever cancel a performance.”

“She’s right,” Sebastian added. “The phrase ‘the show must go on’ is just as important in ballet as it is in theater. Jamison would never work again if he canceled a performance for anything short of a major catastrophe, like an earthquake.”

Sebastian leaned forward so he was speaking directly to me. “Look, Nancy,” he said, “don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not sure you have the knowledge to solve this case.”

“Nancy’s solved cases that are loads harder than this,” George said angrily.

“That’s not what I meant,” Sebastian said. “I’m sure you’re a great detective, but ballet is a unique and insular world. I don’t think anyone who isn’t a part of it can solve a mystery about it.”

“I disagree,” I said, trying not to sound defensive. “My job as a detective is to ask questions and follow leads. As an outsider, sometimes you can spot inconsistencies that those immersed in a certain world could miss.”

Sebastian shrugged. “All I’m saying, Maggie, is that maybe it’s not worth the risk. Maybe you should let Fiona dance tomorrow.”

Maggie looked at him as if he had just sprouted a unicorn horn in the middle of his forehead. “You think I should sit out dancing for Oscar LeVigne? Have you completely lost your mind?”

“There will be other opportunities to dance for Oscar. You’re incredibly talented. What if you’re so nervous that you dance badly? Or even injure yourself? That would be worse than not dancing for him at all. Oscar gives you one shot; you don’t want to blow it.”

“I hate to admit it,” Bess said, “but I understand what he’s saying. I know you can solve this case, Nancy, but we don’t have a lot of time, and the stakes for Maggie are really high.”

“No,” Maggie said firmly. “I’m performing for Oscar tomorrow. As a dancer, my potential career is already short. I’ll be considered old by the time I’m thirty, so I can’t afford to waste any time. Besides, I earned this opportunity. I’m going to take it.”

We pulled up to the hotel and Bess parked.

“So what’s the plan?” Maggie asked as we rode the elevator to the twelfth floor. “How are you going to solve this?”

I didn’t answer right away. I could tell my hesitation was making Maggie nervous, but the truth was that I was stuck. I needed to think about my next move. I mentally ran through my day—how we’d gone from the copy shop to Mike’s hotel—and realized Sebastian was right. Ballet was its own world, and I had been outside that world. I had been chasing down clues on the periphery, but if I was going to solve this case, I needed to be in the thick of it.

“You know how Jamison scheduled a rehearsal tomorrow before the performance?” I asked.

Maggie nodded.

“Well, George, Bess, and I will be there.”

“We will?” George asked, her face turning pale.

“It’s a closed rehearsal,” Sebastian said. “That means only company members can attend.”

“Well, company members and Miss Taylor’s ballet class,” I said with a smile.





CHAPTER SEVEN





Too Many Suspects


“ALL RIGHT, NANCY,” MAGGIE SAID. “Let’s see what you remember. Show me first position.”

I slid my heels together and turned out my toes, making my feet as close to horizontal as I could. Maggie raised her eyebrows. “Not bad. Your turnout is pretty good!”