Free The Nutcracker Ballet Mystery by Carolyn Keene Page A

need to
    call the police,” Bess said.
    Nancy nodded. “You’re right. But first I want to
    make sure our culprit’s not here. This time he or she
    isn’t getting away.” With those words, Nancy flicked on
    the car lights. When they beamed into the back
    window of the van, they silhouetted a shape sitting on
    the passenger side.
    “Somebody’s in there!” Bess’s voice shook.
    Nancy opened the car door. “I’m going to take a
    closer look.” Nancy pulled on her gloves. “I don’t want
    to erase any clues. I’m sure the police will dust for
    prints. But I think I know who—or at least what—is in
    the van,” she said grimly.
    “Are you crazy?” Bess called after her.
    Heart pounding, Nancy walked toward the van and
    grabbed the handle of the passenger door. She pressed
    the knob, then quickly swung the door open.
    Immediately, a huge brown furry thing leaped out at
    her. Nancy gasped and jumped backward as the Mouse
    King headpiece fell to the snowy ground.
    Nancy let out her breath. Her hunch had been
    correct. Gingerly picking the headpiece up, she carried
    it to the Mustang.
    Bess rolled her window partway down. “Yuck! Don’t
    you dare put that thing in here!”
    “Be brave, Bess, because I don’t have any other
    place to put it.” Opening her door, Nancy threw the
    headpiece into the backseat. “I’m going to look around
    a bit.”
    Nancy walked back to the van. Right away she saw
    that a single pair of footprints led to the road from the
    driver’s side. The prints were too small to belong to
    Lawrence but probably just right for Darci. Nancy
    followed the prints to the street, where the footsteps
    met up with another set of tire tracks. Whoever had
    been driving the van had been alone until they met
    someone in a car.
    Nancy retraced her steps to the van. Bess was
    standing beside it, her arms wrapped around her chest.
    She was shivering. “I refuse to stay in the car with a
    giant mouse,” she said.
    Nancy laughed. “Then help me look around. I need
    to find out what the person was trying to do when we
    surprised him or her at the school.” She walked quickly
    to the back of the van.
    “Good question,” Bess said, following Nancy. “But
    why did the person lead us into the apartment
    complex, then slam us from behind?”
    Nancy shook her head. “It does seem kind of
    strange. I think he or she was just trying to scare us
    off.” She tried the van’s back double doors and found
    they weren’t locked. Nancy peered inside the van.
    Except for a spare tire, it was empty.
    Bess looked over her shoulder. “Well, if the Mouse
    King guy took something from the school, it’s gone
    now.”
    Placing her hand carefully on the van door, Nancy
    hoisted herself into the back of the vehicle. Keeping
    low, she made her way to the other side of the spare
    tire, where a red glow caught her eye. When Nancy
    bent to look closer, she could see that the object was a
    smashed Christmas tree ornament.
    Nancy held up a piece of the broken ball for Bess to
    see.
    “Is that one of Mrs. Farnsworth’s ornaments?” Bess
    asked in surprise.
    “No, it’s one of mine. I recognize the lace I glued
    around it,” Nancy said, jumping from the van.
    Bess furrowed her brow. “But why would anyone
    steal your ornaments?”
    “Maybe our thieves just want to ruin the production
    any way they can,” Nancy guessed as she shut the van
    doors. “But why would anyone chance breaking into
    the school tonight just to get some cheap ornaments? It
    seems awfully risky.”
    “Not that risky,” Bess pointed out. “Whoever it was
    probably thought we were all going to be at the gala.”
    “You’re right.” Nancy hurried toward the Mustang.
    “We need to call the police, then get to the gala
    ourselves. We might just find out who else came late to
    the party!”
    Fifteen minutes later, the girls pulled into the
    driveway of the River Heights Country Club. “If Darci
    and Lawrence aren’t at the gala yet, we’re