“Nancy.” He was dressed casually, in pleated cotton slacks and a loose blue polo shirt that matched the color of his eyes. “When I heard this reception was being held at your aunt’s house, I couldn’t wait to get here.”
Nancy decided to deliberately misunderstand him. “I don’t blame you,” she said. “The food looks great, doesn’t it?”
“Great, yes,” he agreed, still looking at her. “But the company is even better.”
Suddenly Nancy saw Bess watching them, an I-told-you-so expression on her face. “Sasha,” she said quickly, “you remember my friend Bess Marvin, don’t you?”
Giving Nancy a look that told her he knew she was up to something, Sasha turned to Bess. “Of course I remember. You look—what is the word? Fabulous?”
“Thank you,” Bess said with a blush. “Fabulous is more than I hoped for.” She gave Sasha the salad forks and a big smile. “So, how do you like the house where you and Marina and Dmitri are staying? It’s in the village, isn’t it?” He nodded. “Is it comfortable?”
“Very comfortable,” Sasha said. “And I can bicycle to the institute every day.”
Without saying anything, Nancy slipped away, leaving Sasha to Bess. Carrying her plate into the living area, she noticed that George, Gary, and her aunt Eloise were standing with a plump, middle-aged woman with graying brown hair. Her aunt caught her eye and waved Nancy over.
“Nancy, here’s someone I want you to meet,” Eloise said, turning to the woman. “This is Eileen Martin. Eileen’s the secretary of the Cultural Society. She’s been very friendly to me since I arrived in the Hamptons. Eileen, this is my niece, Nancy Drew. She’s my brother Carson’s daughter.”
“Nancy, I’m so glad to meet you,” Eileen said warmly, shaking Nancy’s hand. Her brown eyes were unexpectedly shrewd. “I understand you were at the airport earlier today—I guess you witnessed Gary’s incredible landing.”
“I sure did,” Nancy said. “It was amazing, but I hope I don’t see another one like it for a long time.”
Tall, sandy-haired Gary grinned at her. “I hope I don’t, either,” he admitted. “Eileen’s a senior engineer at Jetstream,” he explained to Nancy.
“Now,” Eileen said, patting him on the hand. “You come with me. I’m going to fill your plate, Mr. Powell. You need to put on some weight.”
Without waiting for an answer, Eileen led Gary off to the buffet table. George rolled her eyes and followed them.
Eloise smiled fondly. “Eileen mothers all the young men at Jetstream,” she told Nancy. Then she lowered her voice. “Her own son was only twenty-one when he died in an accident two years ago, and I’m sure that’s the reason she’s a bit of a mother hen.”
Nancy was about to ask what kind of accident when Eloise excused herself to greet some new arrivals.
Left alone for the moment Nancy wandered through the rooms, meeting the dancers and listening to their conversations. After a while she decided to get some fresh air and carried a plate and a glass of cider out onto one of the decks.
The lulling sound of the ocean was strong out there. Nancy set her plate and glass down on a table and walked over to lean against the deck railing. She took a deep breath of the salty air.
“I was hoping to find you,” a lightly accented voice said behind her.
Turning around, Nancy saw Sasha standing in the doorway. Well, she could hardly tell him to go away, but she hoped he wasn’t planning to flirt any more. “I thought I left you with Bess,” she said.
“Yes, but I’m afraid Bess left me for someone else.” Moving onto the deck, Sasha leaned against the railing a few feet from Nancy. “It’s beautiful out here,” he said, looking up at the crescent moon.
“Yes, it is,” Nancy agreed. “In River Heights all we have are a few lakes—and the river, of course. But there’s nothing like the ocean.”
“River Heights? That’s your home?”
Nancy nodded. “It’s in the Midwest.”
“What do you do in the Midwest?” he asked.
“I’m an amateur detective,” she answered.
Sasha’s eyebrows rose. “A detective? No joke?”
Nancy smiled. “No joke.”
“This is amazing!” he said. “Tell me, are you on a case at this very moment?”
“No, thank goodness,” Nancy said with a laugh. “I’m just on vacation.”
“It must be very difficult, this detecting,” he said. “Like solving a puzzle without all the pieces.”
“That’s exactly how it is,” she said, surprised. He seemed genuinely interested in her work. “But I love it.”
“So do I,” Sasha told her. “Mysteries are my life!”
Nancy laughed again. “I thought dancing was your life.”
“Dancing is my professional life,” he explained. “But I have read many of your American detective stories. They are very exciting. I’ve always dreamed of solving a mystery.”
Nancy couldn’t help smiling. She had a feeling Sasha might find real detective work a little different from what he had read about. There was an awkward silence as they both stared out into the night. “Where do you go from here?” Nancy asked finally.
“Paris!” he said enthusiastically. “I’m very excited to see it again.”
“Isn’t it a wonderful city?” Nancy asked.
“It’s the most romantic city in the world. I can hardly wait.” Turning, Sasha smiled at her, his eyes bright in the moonlight. “Or maybe I can wait. Tonight I think this is even more romantic.”
Nancy felt uncomfortable standing in the moonlight with Sasha while he was talking so romantically. Maybe he wasn’t just flirting. Maybe Bess was right and he really did have a crush on her. If that was true, she knew she had to tell him about Ned, and fast.
“Nancy,” Sasha said, and moved closer.
Oh, no, she thought. He wants to kiss me. Tell him now and get it over with.
Sasha reached out for her, and Nancy held her hand up to stop him. Just as their fingers touched, a long dark shadow fell over them.
Chapter
Three
STARTLED, NANCY JUMPED AWAY from Sasha and whirled around to face the house. Framed in the doorway was Dmitri Kolchak, his thick, gray eyebrows pulled together in a scowl.
“Sasha,” the Soviet chaperon said, “I have been searching for you.” Then he spoke a few phrases in Russian.
Nancy didn’t understand a word, but she got the idea. Dmitri didn’t like the cozy scene he thought he had interrupted between her and Sasha. From the way he kept glancing at her, Nancy believed he thought she was the one who was pursuing Sasha.
Sasha laughed and held up his hand. “All right, Dmitri, all right.” He turned to Nancy and grinned. “Dmitri is worried that I’m monopolizing you and keeping you from the other guests.”
I’ll bet, Nancy thought wryly. But she smiled at Dmitri, anyway. “Sasha’s the one who should be circulating more,” she told him. “After all, the party’s partly in his honor.”
“A very good point, Miss Drew.” Stepping to one side, Dmitri gestured politely for her and Sasha to go back in to join the crowd.
“You must forgive Dmitri,” Sasha whispered to Nancy as the three of them went inside. He waited until the chaperon walked over to talk to Marina, and then continued. “His job is to look after Marina and me, and he takes his work very seriously.”
“I don’t blame him,” Nancy said. Actually, she was glad Dmitri had come along. She hadn’t been too crazy about that cozy scene, either. She still had to set Sasha straight, but this wasn’t the right moment. “Has he been with you a long time?” she asked.
“Two years,” Sasha told her. “Before this, he was a pilot in our air force.”
“Now he’s a chaperon? He just travels with you from place to place to make sure you stay out of trouble? That’s a big switch, isn’t it?”
“Yes. My government gave him the job because he knows a lot of languages,” Sasha explained. “Anyway, you know the mil
itary—very strict about following orders. Dmitri is good at that.”
He glanced over at his dance partner, who was prowling the crowded room restlessly. “So is Marina. All she wants to do is rehearse, day and night. No time for anything else. She gives Dmitri no trouble.” Sasha laughed. “But I’m afraid I give him a big headache. He thinks because I want to have a good time, I will neglect my dancing and be a disgrace to my country.”
“Well, I sure wouldn’t want you to do that,” Nancy said. Smiling, she excused herself and walked over to George and Gary, who were at the front door. “You guys aren’t leaving, are you?” she asked.
“We’re going to take a walk on the beach,” George said, carrying her leather sandals. “I’ll be back, but Gary won’t. He has to go.”
“I’ve got a meeting early in the morning,” Gary explained, rolling up the cuffs of his slacks. “I don’t know what it’s about, but I was told it’s important.”
“Maybe it’s about the new plane,” George said. “It might be ready for you to take up again.”
“I don’t think so,” Gary said doubtfully. “Eileen didn’t say anything about it tonight.” With a grin, he lowered his voice and spoke very mysteriously. “Of course, we’re not supposed to discuss it at all. Who knows? The competition might have sent a spy here tonight—disguised as a ballet dancer.”
Nancy laughed. “Maybe they just want to give you a commendation for that landing today.”
“I bet Nancy’s right,” George put in, affectionately looping her arm through her boyfriend’s. Her dark eyes glowed with pride. “You’re the best flyer they have. They’re probably going to give you a plaque.”
“The best award would be more time in the sky,” Gary said, his voice enthusiastic as it always was when he talked of flying. “Well, anyway, I’ll find out tomorrow. Night, Nancy.”
After George and Gary left, Nancy went back to the buffet table and helped herself to some fresh fruit and cookies. As she moved away, she saw Bess standing near the fireplace, talking with a man Nancy hadn’t met. He was about thirty, she guessed, dark haired and extremely handsome.
Trust Bess to find one of the best-looking guys here tonight, she thought with a smile. Even if he is a little old.
In a few minutes the man bent low over Bess’s hand and touched his lips to it. Then he moved away to talk with Dmitri Kolchak, and Nancy walked over to Bess.
“Who was that?” she asked.
Bess sighed. “He kissed my hand,” she murmured dreamily.
“I noticed,” Nancy said. “Does he have a name?”
“Yves Goulard,” Bess said, sighing again. “He’s French. Isn’t he gorgeous?”
“Mmm. Is he a dancer?”
“No, a pianist. He’s the accompanist for the dance institute.” Bess gave herself a shake, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “I just realized,” she said. “We’re going to the rehearsal tomorrow, right? That means I’ll get to see him.”
“Maybe you can be his page turner,” Nancy teased. “Anyway, what happened with you and Sasha?”
Bess shrugged and snitched a cookie from Nancy’s plate. “Nothing happened. We were talking, and then Marina came up and the two of them had a kind of argument. Sasha forgot all about me. I got a little bored so I wandered around and met Yves.”
“What were they arguing about?” Nancy bit into a slice of pineapple.
“Well, the conversation was mostly in Russian,” Bess said, “but I think it was about how late they should stay tonight. I got the feeling that Marina’s all work and no play and Sasha definitely likes to play.”
“I think you’re right,” Nancy said, remembering what Sasha had told her earlier. Well, he could play all he wanted. But not with her.
• • •
Late the next morning Nancy and her friends drove to the dance institute to watch the dancers rehearse for a while. They’d made plans to take Sasha and Marina to the beach later in the day, so all three were wearing shorts and bright, loose-fitting T-shirts over their swimsuits.
“I wonder if Dmitri’s going to come to the beach with us,” Bess said. “He doesn’t seem like the fun-in-the-sun type.”
“I know what you mean.” Nancy laughed. “He’s sort of stiff and proper, like a military man. Sasha told me he used to be a pilot.”
“Really?” George said. “No wonder he looks grumpy. He probably feels grounded.”
“Sasha says he takes his job very seriously,” Nancy said. “So I’m sure he’ll come to the beach to keep an eye on things.”
Bess grinned mischievously. “Maybe it’ll loosen him up a little.”
Nancy had her doubts about that, but she was glad the chaperon would be there, anyway. Maybe Sasha wouldn’t flirt with her if Dmitri was around. If he did continue, she knew she’d have to tell him to stop. She was hoping the whole thing would just kind of fade away, though, especially when Sasha saw an entire beach full of great-looking girls.
“I can’t wait to see Yves again,” Bess said as they pulled up to the institute. “Do I look okay?”
“Great, as usual,” George told her. “But we’re here to watch the dancers, not the pianist, remember?”
“I think I can keep an eye on both.” Bess squared her shoulders determinedly. “Come on, let’s go.”
When a new school had been built a few years earlier, the Cultural Society took over the old one. The society had renovated it to house a stage, a good-size auditorium, dressing rooms, rehearsal rooms, and a handsome lobby.
Once inside the girls heard the strains of piano music. Following the sound to the auditorium, they passed a room where several dancers were working at the barre, and another where they were working on new steps. Inside the auditorium Sasha and Marina were on the stage, loosening up for a pas de deux, which they were about to rehearse. In the front row, wearing a dark suit, was Dmitri Kolchak.
Dana Harding, who had planned the gala opening ballet and choreographed a couple of new dances, was standing just below the stage, a clipboard in her hands. After a brief conversation with Yves, she called out, “All right, dancers! Let’s try it.”
Sasha and Marina took their positions as Nancy, George, and Bess quietly sat down in a middle row. Yves struck a chord, and the two Soviet dancers went into action.
“Oh,” Bess said after a minute, “they’re fantastic!”
Nancy nodded, her eyes never leaving the stage. Even though Sasha and Marina were just learning the piece, and there were lots of stops and starts and conferences with Dana, Nancy could see why they were lead dancers.
Marina’s all work and no play sure paid off. Dressed in black tights and leotard, the young ballerina was incredibly graceful as she moved across the stage in a series of pirouettes and quick, gliding steps.
As for Sasha, Nancy was almost overwhelmed by his abilities. He wasn’t a cute flirt anymore—here he was all business. Wearing tights and a scruffy gray sweatshirt, Sasha leaped and whirled with such grace and power that Nancy realized she was holding her breath half the time.
As the music drew to its tempestuous conclusion, Sasha sprang into a jeté, soaring through the air like a leaf on the wind. Nancy caught her breath, half expecting him to fly. After what seemed minutes, Sasha landed, and together he and Marina spun through the final steps of the pas de deux.
“Wonderful!” Dana called out after a moment of appreciative silence. “Let’s take a break, and then we’ll meet in rehearsal room two to work out a few of those sticky places.”
Marina nodded and left, her face cool and aloof once again. Sasha leaped nimbly from the stage and reached for a towel that had been thrown over the back of a front row seat. Catching sight of Nancy, he grinned and winked at her.
Nancy couldn’t help laughing. The old Sasha was back. But she had to admit to herself that the glimpse she had gotten of the new Sasha, the talented young artist, had been very stirring.
Draping the towel around his neck, Sasha started up the aisle toward her. Nancy was sti
ll smiling at him when she heard the auditorium door slam open with a loud bang.
Turning, she saw Gary standing there. His lean face was pale, and his eyes were wide with shock. He and Sasha reached the three girls at the same time.
“Gary, what’s wrong?” George asked, standing up. “What’s happened?”
“It’s unbelievable!” Gary shook his head, gasping as if he’d just run a race. “It doesn’t make any sense!”
“What doesn’t?” George asked. “Come on, Gary, what is it?”
“I’m out,” Gary said. “Suspended from Jetstream.”
Bess gasped.
“Why, Gary?” Nancy asked.
Still shaking his head, Gary sank down in the aisle seat. “It’s unbelievable,” he said again. Looking over at Nancy, he tried to smile. “I’m glad you’re a detective, because I think I’m going to need one.”
“Will you please tell us what’s going on?” George cried.
“Jetstream suspended me because they think I—” Gary took a deep breath. “Because they think I’m a spy.”
Chapter
Four
THERE WERE a few seconds of complete silence while everyone stared at Gary. Finally George said, “You’re right. That’s totally unbelievable.”
Bess nodded indignantly. “And ridiculous!”
“Yeah, but it’s true,” Gary said, his voice shaky. “Jetstream really believes I’m involved in some kind of industrial espionage.”
“Why?” Nancy asked, scooting down the row to sit next to him. “They’ve got to have a reason, even if it sounds crazy.”
“Sure they do,” Gary told her. “And it is crazy.” He took another deep breath and let it out in a big sigh. “Okay,” he said. “Here goes. Jetstream’s biggest competition is this company in France called Aviane. Jetstream got wind that Aviane’s almost ready to put a new plane on the market. And guess what it’s like?”
“The secret one Jetstream’s been working on?” George asked. “The Jetstar?”
“You got it,” Gary said. “Jetstream figured there was no way for Aviane to have copied the Jetstar unless somebody on the inside fed them the plans.”