The Red Slippers

by Carolyn Keene

  Backstage was chaos. Intermission had just started, and the dancers were all abuzz about the lights going out. We couldn’t find Maggie anywhere.

  “Where’s Maggie?” I asked Fiona.

  “I think I saw her go into Sebastian’s dressing room,” Fiona said.

  We rushed there as fast as we could.

  The door was locked, but we could hear the muffled sound of Maggie crying. “Why are you doing this? I thought you were my friend!”

  “My turn,” Ned said, as he put his shoulder into the door with all his might. The door flew open with a groan. Maggie was tied to the chair and Sebastian was pacing in front of her.

  “I’m sorry,” he was saying. “I was trying to protect you. But Jamison cut the lights. He knows about the tear gas. There’s no other way to destroy Jamison and save you from him.”

  “Sebastian,” I said. “I know why you’re doing it, but this isn’t justice. This isn’t taking care of Maggie.”

  He looked over at me, completely destroyed.

  “I told her not to dance tonight. I didn’t want Maggie to get hurt, but Jamison broke her. He needs to pay,” Sebastian said.

  “Not like this,” I said. “Innocent people could have been really hurt from the tree falling. And the tear gas!”

  “What are you talking about? Who needs to pay?” Maggie asked from the chair.

  “You have to tell her,” I said to Sebastian.

  He looked at me, then glanced at Ned, George, and Bess blocking the exit.

  “Jamison. He needs to pay . . . for what he did to Veronica.”

  Maggie looked at him confused. “He got her into the New York City Ballet,” she began.

  Sebastian looked enraged. “But at what cost? He got her into the New York City Ballet, but now she’s in a mental institution. You want to know why she doesn’t return your calls? It’s because she’s not allowed access to her phone.”

  “What?” Maggie said, shocked.

  “Veronica loved to dance . . . until she met Jamison. Then nothing she did was ever good enough. He kept pushing her, critiquing every little thing she did. He insulted her. Told her she didn’t work hard enough, but all she ever did was work. You saw her.”

  “But that’s how you become great,” Maggie said.

  Sebastian shook his head. “You didn’t see her in the months before she left. You were in Paris on that exchange program, but she was a nervous wreck. When she finally got to New York, she said she could still hear Jamison’s voice echoing through her head, all day, every day. With the added competition and the pressure, she lost it. Next thing we knew, we were getting a call from the emergency room that Veronica had been admitted due to a nervous breakdown.” He paused and knelt in front of Maggie. “I saw him doing the same thing to you, and I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t let him destroy you like he destroyed Veronica.”

  Tears ran down Maggie’s face. “I can take it,” she said. “I promise. He’s not going to destroy me.”

  “Ruining Maggie’s shot,” I told him, “will destroy Maggie—just like Jamison pushing Veronica broke her. It would make you no better than him.” Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Ned moving toward Sebastian. I had to keep Sebastian focused on me and away from Ned. “I know you don’t want to do that,” I said, saying anything that came into my mind, just to keep him interested. “You care about Maggie. She’s like another sister to you.”

  Suddenly Ned pounced, tackling Sebastian and restraining him. Bess rushed over to untie Maggie. Sebastian didn’t struggle. It was like Ned had literally knocked all the fight out of him. Instead he collapsed into a heap, heaving loud sobs. Maggie stared, as if she didn’t know who he was.

  In the hallway, dancers yelled that there was only one more minute of intermission.

  “Time for your solo,” I said to Maggie.

  Maggie hesitated, still trying to process everything that had happened.

  “Go,” I said. “Show Oscar what you’re made of.” Maggie looked at me, still mystified, but then her face morphed, and I saw the serious dancer. I knew she wouldn’t let anything get in her way.

  “Thank you,” she said. She walked toward the stage with a determined gait.

  After Maggie had hurried out, I turned to my friends. “Ned and I will stay here with Sebastian, just to make sure he doesn’t try anything else, and then we’ll call the police as soon as the performance is over. I don’t want them bursting in and ending the show. You guys go tell Jamison that he’s going to need to play the piano during the second half.”

  After George and Bess hurried off, I convinced Sebastian and Ned to move to the greenroom. The other dancers gave us space. Information spreads quickly among tight-knit groups; I could tell they already knew everything. Sebastian curled up on the couch. I looked at his thin body, which looked small and broken. I knew I should feel victorious—this had been a hard case—but instead I felt sad. This wasn’t how I had wanted it to end.

  Ned and I watched Maggie dance her solo on the greenroom’s TV. The video feed was silent, so we couldn’t hear the music, but we could tell that she had nailed it.

  As soon as the last dancer had taken her curtsy, I called the police. Ten minutes later, two officers escorted Sebastian out of the building. As Ned and I stood in front of the theater and watched them take him away, I fought back tears.

  “Obviously, Sebastian went way too far,” I said. “But I understand why he thought he needed to do it.”

  “He was in a tough spot,” Ned agreed. “I feel for him and his sister.”

  “Jamison destroyed both of them,” I said.

  “It’s freezing,” Ned said. “Let’s get back inside and find the others.”

  As we turned around to go back inside, we noticed Jamison standing behind me, watching the patrol car drive away. There was a pensive look on his face, but when I tried to catch his eye, he avoided looking at me.

  We found George and Bess in the lobby. A little later Maggie came out.

  “Sorry I took so long,” Maggie said. “Jamison pulled us all aside afterward and gave us a speech about how he knows he doesn’t tell us enough that we’re doing well. He wanted us to know that he was proud of us.”

  “Wow,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Maggie agreed. “Weird coming from him, but nice.” She paused for a moment. “What’s going to happen to Sebastian?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Hopefully he’ll get some help.”

  “Yeah,” Maggie said softly.

  “Excuse me,” a deep male voice interrupted us.

  We turned to see Oscar LeVigne. He held out his hand toward Maggie, ignoring the rest of us. “I just wanted to say that I’m so glad I was able to witness such a breakthrough performance. You are a rising talent!”

  “Thank you,” Maggie said, shaking his hand. “I really appreciate you coming out here to see our show.”

  Oscar nodded and walked away. As soon as he was out the door, Maggie turned back to us with a huge smile on her face.

  After we calmed down, we decided to go out for dessert to celebrate. Maggie even admitted that she had earned it.

  We stepped into the cold air and spotted Mike standing on the theater steps with Colin.

  “Oh no,” George said. “Not again.”

  But as we got closer, we saw that Mike wasn’t yelling. He stretched his arm out and awkwardly placed his hand on Colin’s shoulder. “You were good up there,” Mike said stiffly.

  Colin looked at him, shocked, and then broke into a big grin. “You watched?”

  “You have a very persuasive young lady for a friend,” Mike explained.

  We walked past Mike’s car and saw Fiona sitting inside, watching Mike and Colin nervously. She couldn’t hear them from her vantage point. As we walked past, I shot her a thumbs-up sign. A huge look of relief passed over her face.

  Since I couldn’t drive, we piled into Ned’s car.

  “I have an announcement,” Bess said. We all turned to look at her. “I
signed up for tap-dancing classes.”

  “What?” George asked.

  “I feel like I’ve quit too many things because I was worried that I wasn’t the best or it wouldn’t lead anywhere, but I realized these past couple of days that it’s okay to do something just because you like it. Of all the classes and lessons I took when I was younger, tap was my favorite.”

  “That’s great,” Ned said.

  “So, is tap dancing your thing?” I asked Bess.

  “Maybe,” she said with a smile. “But if it’s not, I’ll try something else.”

  I squeezed her hand, happy for her.

  We sat in silence. I looked around the car and felt a warmth spread over me despite the freezing temperatures outside. As much as I loved solving a case, nothing made me happier than being surrounded by my friends. I hoped I never forgot that, no matter how great a detective I became.

  Dear Diary,

  * * *

  * * *

  * * *

  MAGGIE GOT AN OFFER FROM the chicago Ballet Company a few days later. She was ecstatic! I guess Jamison’s teaching methods got results. Even so, I hoped Sebastian ended up okay. He had good reasons for confronting Jamison, but he went about it all wrong. The good thing is that Jamison seemed to learn a lesson; he started giving his students positive reinforcement. Even if someone can do better, you should still remind them when they do well.

  * * *

  * * *

  READ WHAT HAPPENS IN THE NEXT MYSTERY IN THE NANCY DREW DIARIES,

  The Sign in the Smoke

  Dear Diary,

  * * *

  * * *

  * * *

  NO ONE LOVES WARM WEATHER more than me! But since trouble seems to find me even when the sun’s glaring down, my summers usually aren’t so relaxing. I decided that this year, however, all that would change. I was going to take a much-needed self-imposed summer break from sleuthing!

  So when Bess suggested that she, George, and I sign up as counselors at Camp Cedarbark, I thought it was a great idea. I figured I’d spend time with the kids, make a few new friends, maybe even pick up a hobby. Of course, I should have known that escaping mystery-fueled drama is never as easy as it seems. . . .

  * * *

  * * *

  A Summer Retirement

  BESS PEERED DOWN INTO HER cup and then thrust it back at the girl who’d handed it to her. “Could I get just a smidge more marshmallow?”

  “More marshmallow?” her cousin George asked, swirling her plastic spoon through her own pile of Strawberry Cheesecake Explosion. “If you get any more marshmallow, Bess, all of your organs are going to stick together.”

  My boyfriend, Ned, cleared his throat. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how the human digestive system works,” he said, watching as the ice cream scooper handed the cup back to Bess, “but you are going to have the mother of sugar highs.”

  Bess tilted her head at him. “After eating an ice cream sundae? You don’t say.” She smiled at the ice cream scooper, plunged her spoon into a fluffy cloud of marshmallow, and shoveled it into her mouth, closing her eyes in pleasure. “Ohhhh, yeah. That’s the stuff. Besides”—she opened her eyes—“we’re celebrating here. At least, Nancy, George and I are. Aren’t we?”

  “We sure are,” I agreed, stepping up to the counter. “Can I get a strawberry sundae with Oreo chip and whipped cream?”

  Ned smiled at me. “Good combination.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I spent all winter planning the ultimate sundae combo.”

  Bess took another bite of her sundae and moaned. “And we can spend all day eating ice cream now, guys,” she said happily. “Because as of midnight last night, it’s officially summer!”

  “For twelve beautiful, short weeks,” Ned put in.

  Bess glared at him. “Buzzkill.”

  “And then comes fall,” Ned said, taking a lick of his own rocky-road-with-sprinkles cone. “Then winter. It’ll be snowing before we know it!”

  “My point is,” Bess said, raising her spoon in the air, “that we girls have three months of gorgeous weather stretching ahead of us. Three months. What are we going to do with it all?”

  I took my sundae from the ice cream scooper and handed over my money. “Um, if I were to guess? I’ll probably end up solving a mystery or something.”

  “You’re so predictable, Nance,” George scoffed, rolling her eyes.

  I took a bite of my sundae. Ooh, it was perfect. I’d done it. I’d created the ultimate sundae. “I dunno,” I said, shrugging at George. “Maybe I’ll take the summer off from solving mysteries. Take up knitting or something.”

  Now it was Bess’s turn to roll her eyes.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I’ll believe that when I see it, is all,” she explained. “How are you going to manage it? Mysteries tend to find you, you know. I think the only way you could pull that off is to stop talking to people at all.”

  George nodded, chewing on a nugget of cheesecake. “Or go on a really long trip,” she added.

  “Where you don’t speak the language,” Ned put in, pausing from licking his cone.

  “You guys!” I said, getting frustrated. “I’m serious. I mean, kind of.”

  “You want to stop solving mysteries?” Bess asked, looking incredulous. She slapped a hand over my forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

  I dodged out from under her. “Not permanently,” I said. “But it might be nice to just relax this summer. Enjoy nature. Maybe play some sports.”

  I expected Bess to laugh again, but instead she looked thoughtful. “I think George might be right,” she said slowly. “I think to do that, you might have to leave town. And I have an idea!” She put her sundae down on a nearby table and then swung her purse off her shoulder so she could start digging in it. Normally this was a twenty-minute process, minimum, so George and I looked at each other and sat down to continue eating our ice cream. But just as I had the perfect mouthful of strawberries, ice cream, and whipped cream, Bess pulled out a glossy brochure and waved it at me.

  “Um,” I said, struggling to swallow what I had in my mouth, “okay.”

  I took the brochure. The cover showed a beautiful lake surrounded by woods and cabins, and blocky text spelled out CAMP CEDARBARK.

  I raised an eyebrow at Bess. “I think we’re a little old for summer camp, don’t you think?”

  Bess, who’d sat down with us and was inhaling her sundae, sighed. “Not as campers,” she said. “As counselors. Think about it, Nance. You want to relax, enjoy nature, maybe play some sports?”

  “Yeah.” George snorted. “There’s nothing more relaxing than looking after six children who belong to someone else all summer long!”

  Bess frowned at her. “Shush. You like kids.” She turned back to me. “And it wouldn’t be for the whole summer. Camp Cedarbark does little mini-sessions, each one week long! Besides, it’s not just any camp, Nancy. I used to go there when I was a kid!”

  I squinted at the brochure. “I thought you went to Camp Lark-something?”

  “Camp Larksong,” Bess confirmed. “But they closed five years ago, two years after my last visit! Now a Camp Larksong alum has finally bought the place and restored it. They sent this brochure to all the former Camp Larksong campers, encouraging us to get involved or send our kids.”

  “Kids?” asked Ned.

  Bess shrugged. “Well, Camp Larksong was in business for twenty-three years, so . . .” She turned to me, her face as eager as a puppy’s. “What do you think?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You’re serious?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” Bess stuck out her lower lip in a pout. “I have so many happy memories of this place! I was sort of thinking of applying to be a counselor on my own, but it would be so much more fun with you guys!”

  George looked at her cousin. “You really think I could take care of a bunkful of children and not lose my mind?”

  “You’d have help,” Bess admonished her. “We’d each
be assigned a CIT, counselor-in-training, who’s a few years younger. And of course, we’d all be there to help each other. Besides”—she pointed an accusing finger at George—“you like children. You’re a great babysitter! Remember when you watched cousin Gemma for the day and taught her how to code?”

  George’s lips turned up. “Well, she was an exceptional kid. She had a natural talent!”

  “I guess we’d have activities to keep them busy, George,” I said, trying to imagine the three of us relaxing by the lake in the photo. “It’s not like we’d be starting from scratch.”

  “And the activities are really fun,” Bess went on. “I know neither of you went to summer camp, but it’s the greatest! Swimming and hiking and playing capture the flag and . . .”

  I looked at George. Bess was right, I’d never been to summer camp . . . but it did sound really fun. And definitely more exciting than sitting in our backyard rereading Harry Potter with my feet in a kiddie pool, which was basically last summer. (When I wasn’t sleuthing, that is.) “It would only be a week or two,” I said quietly.

  Bess looked at me, her eyes bulging in excitement as she realized she’d gained an ally. “Ten days,” she squealed. “The mini-sessions are just one week of camp, and three days’ training. That’s not so bad, right? Even if you hated it, it’s only ten days.”

  The silence that followed was broken by a crunch! We all turned to see Ned finishing up his waffle cone. “I’m sold,” he said after he swallowed. “But unfortunately, I’m using the summer to bang out my science requirements. You’re on your own, Nance.”

  Bess smiled at him. “You weren’t invited anyway,” she said. “It’s a girls’ camp. What do you say?” she asked, looking eagerly from me to George.