Portrait in Crime by Carolyn Keene

Bess warned.
    â€œBess, George, I’m not hiring the girl!” Nancy exclaimed. “I just want to find her.”
    As she made call after call, Nancy realized George’s skepticism made sense. Over and over she was told: no redheads, no portrait sittings.
    Finally she got the booking agent for the Unique Agency on the phone. A red-haired model was no problem, she was told. Then Nancy explained she wanted the model for a painter.
    â€œNo way!” the agent yelled. “We don’t work with painters anymore. The last time we sent a girl out to pose for a painting, we never saw her again!”

Chapter

Seven
    N ANCY CAUGHT HER BREATH . A missing model? She pressed the woman for details.
    â€œNo,” the woman said, laughing. “She wasn’t a redhead. She was Nigerian. She was posing for some young hotshot painter in Manhattan, and last I heard, they were married. But the real reason we don’t work with painters is that they tie up our models for long periods of time. We can make more money on shorter assignments.”
    Seeing Nancy’s disappointed face as she hung up, Bess suggested, “I could do some calling, Nan.”
    Nancy shook her head. “I think we have to find another way.” She looked at her watch. “Oh, no!Is it really four-thirty? I promised Sasha I’d go and watch his rehearsal, but it’s almost over.”
    â€œBrush your hair and get out of here quick,” Bess teased. “You don’t want to be late!”
    Nancy threw Bess a withering look but did gather her things and jump into their rental car.
    The dance institute was housed for the summer in an old school that the Hamptons Cultural Society had taken over. It had been renovated, and now it contained a stage, auditorium, and rehearsal and dressing rooms.
    The auditorium at the institute was empty when Nancy walked in. She’d missed Sasha’s rehearsal, she thought, sitting down heavily on one of the chairs. She was doing it again—getting so involved in a mystery that she was missing out on everything else!
    As Nancy sat there, Sasha’s partner, Marina, walked into the room. Marina was a young ballerina from the Soviet Union who had come to the institute with Sasha.
    At first Nancy had thought that the lovely black-haired dancer might be in love with Sasha and might resent Nancy because of the attention Sasha paid to her. But later she had decided she was wrong about Marina. Marina’s first love was ballet. The two Soviets danced together beautifully, but that was all. When it came to Sasha, Marina was all business.
    â€œHi, Nancy,” she called. “Looking for Sasha?”
    Nancy nodded and Marina’s lithe body disappeared into the back.
    A few seconds later Sasha walked into the auditorium, wearing black tights and a white T-shirt. The strong muscles in his arms were flexed as he held each end of a towel that was thrown around his neck.
    â€œSasha, I’m sorry I’m late—” Nancy began.
    Sasha shook his head, waving away her apology. He took her arm lightly. “Ready for that dance lesson?” he asked, giving her a peck on the cheek.
    â€œI’m hardly dressed for it,” she protested, laughing.
    His eyes surveyed her with approval. “Nice lightweight shirt, loose cotton pants,” he said. “Take off your sandals and you’ll be perfect.” He looked into her eyes. “I’m not letting you get away, Nancy Drew.”
    Phew! Nancy thought, every time she was with this guy, she couldn’t think straight!
    Sasha led her into a rehearsal room and put on some music. Then he sat in the middle of the dance floor. “Come on,” he invited. “We’ll warm up so you don’t pull any muscles.”
    Nancy sat on the floor beside him, obediently following his orders. As she stretched, she felt her body relax.
    â€œI thought ballet dancers warmed up at the barre,” Nancy said, pointing to