Black Adagio (28 page)

“Is that what you think I am? Emotionally involved?”

“Hell, yeah! And rightly so! It started with the overnight stay in the woods, and got kicked into high gear with Brandi going missing. And now another friend disappears? I don't blame you one bit, and you shouldn’t either.”

Putting his car in park outside Velofsky’s, the lights downstairs were burning brightly. Wondering if Tina had been found, she hoped when she went in, that she’d be in there waiting safe and sound. He tossed an arm over the steering wheel. His face shadowed by the night, a smile played on his lips.  

“I’ve worked out a new theory,” he began, “I think it's that little Zoe girl doing away with her competition … with a hatchet.”

The sound of genuine laughter filled the car.

“What?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

“Just a hunch, but my intuition says that she’s not a bit like you,” he responded, leaning in for a first kiss.

Without thinking, she backed away into the corner. Opening his eyes, he shifted self-consciously behind the driver's wheel.

“Sorry, again,” he said tapping the wheel.

“It's just that ...” she started to explain.

“Look, you don't have to say anything. It might be that other guy stopping you from ...”

“Kurt? No, no, it's nothing like that!”

“Hey,” he said placing his hands on her shoulders. Holding her firmly, he spoke from his heart. “I didn't mean it that way. Look, we're just getting to know each other. And I'm sure they'll be lots of guys trying to catch your eye. If one of those guys attracts your attention, then that’s my problem. It's me that will have to step up my game. You have a right to be with whomever you want without anyone giving you flack for trying to be happy. I'm the male, and I’m the one that has to vie for the right to hold your hand, okay?” 

Inside, an icy fence melted. There were other barriers still standing, but he was making his way through her obstacle course.

“You mean, you're gonna fight for me?” she teased, the smirk playing at the corners of her full lips. He returned her smile.

“Damn right I will!” he joked, slapping the wheel with the palm of his hand.

“Like those spring bucks?” she said putting her fingers up to her head like horns, “when they butt heads?”

Todd chuckled again. “See I told you. You're a funny girl. Yes, exactly like that, I guess I'll have to cut holes in my hat to fit over the rack I'm going to grow, but yeah, I'll do it!”

“In that case, come here,” she said, crooking her finger. Leaning in, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. Before he could say anything, she jumped out of the car, holding the door open. “And thanks, Todd. For tonight, and for everything.”

He watched her run into the safe haven, but was it? The latest disappearance put a new spin on things. He was having so many second and third thoughts about letting her stay at the school, but it wasn't the school, it was Holybrook that had the problem. His eyes scanned the woods wondering if anything was in them. Not a dancing man, but a real life serial killer who profiled young girls like the ones taken. While there was no evidence to connect the two cases, he felt sure that the two girls were abducted for the same reason. What it was, he didn't know. Worried that the motive extended its reach to Melissa, he’d hate to think that it put her in danger and in the position of being the third ballerina to disappear from the prestigious Velofsky School of Ballet.

Chapter Thirty

“I wasn't being mean, you know.”

Melissa recognized the dark presence next to her without the necessity of looking up. The elongated, graceful shadow stretching over the floor was enough to identify trouble. Even in caricature, Zoe's body extended into infinity.

Doing her best to avoid another exercise in futility, she finished tucking the ends of the satiny pink ribbons. Learning how to pick her battles, she refused to hand that power over to those that saw themselves as enemies of a quiet soul. All she wanted to do was dance, and yet every day she faced combatants trying to knock her off the greased pole.

“I said ...” Zoe repeated, kneeling and dropping to the floor.

Angry that she wasn't going to give up, she was determined to stoke the fires.

“I heard you,” Melissa interjected. Continuing to put the finishing touches on her pointe shoes, she didn't like loose ends—on her shoes, or in life. “There,” she said, patting her ankle.

“Well, what is it this time that’s preventing you from being civil?” Zoe lambasted, determined to get an answer. “Did I use the wrong soap? Is my bun a centimeter off from being centered on my head? Or God forbid, is my mere presence screwing with your artistic aspirations?” The icy blue held their own, pale eyelids blinking them in and out of existence. “Look, I didn't come over to fight, I just wanted to explain my remark the other night.”

“Which one? Sorry if I don't remember every single gem that dribbles from your lips. Believe it or not, there are more important things in the world.”

The hypodermic filled with venom made its way under Zoe's skin. She nodded her head, grimacing slightly.

“I suppose I deserved that.”

Melissa waited for the caveat. The
'I deserved that, but you did this,’
part, but there were no justifications—only a sheepish look, and a flush of pink in Zoe's cheeks.

“Yes, you do,” she said, diving in. Pausing, there was still no vitriol … no defensive posturing. Suspicious, she spoke to Zoe as if she weren't the asshole she'd proven herself to be. “Whatever. What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the other night—the remark about Anna Tritta not being wrapped too tight.”

Melissa blanched, closing her eyes. Was she really going there?

“Like that needs an explanation. It’s snarky at best.”

“Because you’re not listening. She came up and talked to me. I was outside, and she’d returned from one of her walks. We were on the porch, and the point is that she specifically said she saw her husband, Pookie or ...”

“Pushka.”

“Yes, that's it. She said that she saw him around here.”

“Yes, I know.”

“You know? And you don't think someone seeing a dead person is a little weird?”

“Yes, I thought it was, at least at first, but she didn't mean it that way. She meant that someone at the school reminds her of her late husband. She thought it was a good omen.”

Zoe squinted, wrinkling her brow.

“Really?”

“Yes, I guess she didn't get a chance to say that, but she did with me.”

“But did she say who it was?”

“Nope, and I didn't ask. Does it really matter?”

“I suppose not, but I'm curious who reminds her of her husband. Could it be Viktor?” Zoe asked. “Maybe her husband was old and fat?”

There was the Zoe she'd come to hate. Melissa sighed, disgusted at the unkind commentary.

“Hey, I'm sorry! I just meant ...”

“Yeah, I know what you meant. And I don't know because we don’t know what stage of her husband's life Anna was referring to, and besides, you're talking to me about this because?” Melissa bluntly asked. She just wanted her to go away. She didn't need any of her nasty, cynical remarks lingering in her consciousness. She had enough to forget.

“God, you are such a brat! I don't even know why I try to ...”

“I think you do. It's because your two stupid friends are gone. Got sent home, didn't they?” she said with a grin.

“Rude, rude, rude!” Zoe shot, snapping to her feet. “You just cannot be nice to some people!”

“Not the ones you drug and leave in the forest,” she hammered.

“I was not the one that did that!” she adamantly denied.

“Then who did?”

“If you have to know, it was Gretchen! She knew you were a stupid little bitch, and got a kick out of shoving a couple of her mother's pills in your soda. Her mom let her take a couple in case she had trouble sleeping. You'd know that if you cared about someone other than yourself,” Zoe delivered, her face taking on a stony, to-the-manor-born appearance.

“Oh, so now you come out with that information?”

“Well, it doesn't matter, does it? There’s nothing you're going to do.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Melissa said getting to her feet, fixing her tights. “And I don’t believe a word of what you’re saying. It was you near my soda, not Gretchen.”

“I didn’t —”

“Oh, hush! I’m tired of your lies! It was you and you know it! And caring about others is strange advice coming from you. Yes, there is a “U” in Y-O-U, but there's also a “y,” as in ‘why am I even talking to you’? Here's hoping you eventually learn that other people have feelings, you self-centered bitch.”

“Drop dead, or should I say disappear.”

Melissa held herself back from punching her right in the mouth. Grabbing her arms, she rubbed them vigorously. The studio a little chilly this morning, she decided to put on her sweatshirt. Digging in her dance bag, she rummaged not finding it.

Shit!

She'd left her sweatshirt in that studio! Wondering if the police had it, they probably assumed it was Tina's, but it wasn't. It was hers.

“What's the matter? Remember you have no talent?” Zoe taunted upon seeing the frozen look upon Melissa's face.

“Shut the fuck up!” Melissa shouted, taking a step in her direction.

“My, aren't we violent this morning?” she remarked caustically, enjoying toying with her. “Lose something? Is that it?” She stopped, snapping her fingers. “I know! It's that frayed, disgusting rag you always wear that’s missing! The one with that stupid embroidered heart on the front!”

Wanting to deny it, she found it difficult to speak. That sweatshirt would place her at the scene of the crime, and if she became involved, she’d have to answer questions about why she didn't tell the truth the first time around.

“I'm right, aren't I? But why would you care about that cheap crappy-looking thing?” she said tapping her chin, her wheels frenetically turning.

“Because my mother gave me that cheap crappy-looking thing just before she died! It's the last gift she gave me! Okay? Got something smart ass to say about that, cause if you do, I'm waiting!” she challenged with the hasty lie.

Backing off, Zoe wasn’t willing to say anything about a dead parent. Her discretion not having anything to do with scruples, it was based on the school not looking kindly upon her saying it. A remark like that might be construed as setting up a 'hostile working environment' for a fellow dancer. If it were, it might jeopardize her getting this role, and keeping her spot in the company. Melissa was so not worth it.

“I hate you,” she spat.

“I hate you more,” Missy retorted.

Zoe strolled away, joining Kurt at the barre. Making sure that Missy noticed, she pawed him lightly. Collette rushed into the studio checking the time.

“Whew, that was close! With all that's happened, I forgot to set my alarm,” she admitted, throwing her bag near Melissa's.

“Yeah, close,” Melissa mumbled, eyeing the way Kurt was responding. “Way too close. You want to go into Holybrook later?”

“You going?”

“Why not? We only have the two classes,” she replied, stopping short of saying,
and I no longer feel safe practicing in my private studio.

“I don't know. I feel so horrible.”

“As we all do,” Melissa said, putting her hand on her buddy’s wrist.

“Sure, why not, but only if you promise that you'll come back with me this time. There's no way I'm leaving you alone!”

Melissa shyly grinned. “That goes both ways, my friend.”

Chapter Thirty-one

“You stupid fool! What in fucking hell did you think you were doing?” Larabee spat. Ever since receiving the call that came in first thing this morning, he'd been on the warpath. Waiting for Todd to come in, here he was, trying to look like there wasn't something going on with that little whore. It was always a woman’s fault when things like this happened, Women needed to be contained ... controlled. All sorts of things happened when one got loose and started thinking for herself. 

“And a good morning to you, too,” Todd replied, hanging up his coat. Carrying a pair of leather gloves with him, he slapped them across his palm as he strolled to his desk.

“You walking away from me, you little pipsqueak?” Larabee retorted, giving chase. He hated being ignored. He wouldn't tolerate it. “Throwing your career away for that piece of trash, you pussy whipped idiot!”

The insult worked. Todd spun around. Facing Larabee, he hit him lightly in his chest with the black gloves.

“You say that again, you're going to be worrying about more than that restraining order your ex is getting. The way I hear it is that you weren't even interested in her. You were only stringing her along to get to her daughter. You should know better than to mess with an underage girl. You’ll end up in prison, and if you do, you won't be free to wander around saying things that'll get you punched right in that big misogynist mouth of yours.”

“Misogynist? You showing off that two-bit education? Well, you're not impressing anyone with it. And the little piece of scum that Carol calls her daughter is causing trouble. Laurie is lying, all to break us up, and her plan worked. As if I'd want anything to do with that little skink. And it's not only because of all that make up she packs on. Christ, it makes her look like a goddamned crack whore! She needs a good meal shoved down her throat—and old-fashioned spanking, if you ask me.”

“Yeah, and I'll bet you'd like to be the one to deliver it,” Todd quipped, wriggling in the opening. Feeling good about getting in a shot, he pushed his chair back and sat down, his gloves placed to the side of his paperwork. Like an unwelcome fly, Larabee sat on the desktop in front of him, preventing him from moving his chair in.

“That was unkind and unnecessary,” Larabee rebuked, keeping on a faux smile as he scanned his colleagues. They were hard at work and not interested in what appeared to be a friendly exchange. “How you doing?” he said tipping his hand at Foster. Passing by, a fresh cup of java was clutched in his hands.

Todd waited until Foster was out of earshot. Turning, he continued his conversation. “Larabee, you're blocking my way, but I assume you know that. Now why don't you just get to what this is about so I can get back to work, and you can get back to surfing porn on the web.”

“And you used to be such a polite young man. You realize how much that little bitch has changed you, son?”

“It wasn’t Melissa who did that. And I suggest you leave her out of this conversation.”

“No? Well, then who was it?”

“You. I’m tired of hearing about your crap, especially going after Laura. It's too much, Brent. You crossed a real line.”

“But she ...”

“Don't you see it doesn't matter what she did? You’re the adult. An adult that hit his ex-wife and gets involved with strippers. You've got to calm down. Get help, do something, but I'm telling you that I can't stand it anymore. And a lot of people are saying the same thing.”

“You talked about me? To who?”

“No, I haven't said anything to anyone ... yet. I've only listened to folks in town. They want to see you nailed for this. In fact, they were volunteering to buy the nail gun and hand it to Carol to use on you. I'm telling you this because I used to respect you. We used to be friends.”

“Used to be? Still am. Look, I'm older than you. Way older, and I know what's going on. Don’t you see that Carol is presuming that bullshit to be true because she believes what her daughter said? But what Laurie’s telling her isn’t factual. It’s a case of putting things in her mommy’s head, but don’t worry. I'm sending Carol a nice present. To break the ice and let her know there are no hard feelings ...”

“A present?”

“Yeah, for Christmas. It's from that lingerie place and ...”

“Okay, let me mark this on my calendar because it's the day that you officially lost your mind
. You should not have done that. And lingerie? Cheesh! I’m embarrassed for you!”

“You don't know what you're talking about. You'll see, and what I have to say to you is official business.”

“Then I'm all ears, sir,” he said sitting up.

“You and that Melissa person make any visits last night? Maybe one you'd like to tell me about?”

Fuck, he knew about Marjorie Moore.

“But ... how?”

“I guess confirmed. And in case it matters, Midge called here. Seems you left a pair of gloves over there last night. She wanted to make sure you got them. Suppose they weren't really her size, or maybe she's just one of those nice people that want people reunited with their belongings.”

“Got 'em,” Todd answered, holding them up. When he couldn’t find them this morning, he’d remembered leaving them at Midge’s. Swinging by her place before he came to work, she'd made a comment about it being fast, but he had no idea she'd meant this.

“Well, I'm so glad because you getting your goddamned gloves back is not what our little chat is all about. In plain English, you shouldn’t be investigating inactive cases. We’ve got enough on our hands with the recent ones, don't ya think? Now you wanna tell me what the hell you were doing?”

“In the first place, the visit was unofficial. She knew that because I stated it twice. Second, there are disappearances that seem similar to her daughter's case. Yes, her daughter’s case is inactive, but I never did know the exact reason for her dropping the search. After all, Barbara is still gone. Anyway, given the recent developments, I thought I'd find out.”

“With your girlfriend?”

“She's not my girlfriend, and yes, I brought her along because, as I said the first time, the visit was unofficial.”

“Son, while you’re on this force, everything you do is official. And since when do you question the integrity of fellow officers? That is what you did in checking up on them. As if they don't know how to do their jobs. I oughta formally reprimand you on this one. Put it on your damned record so you'll remember the next time you feel it's your place to step out of line!”

He had a point. It's why Todd had surreptitiously carried out Melissa's request. His eyes wandered. Gazing out the window, he spotted the man with the pompadour entering a store. How had he even gotten on Todd's radar? It was Melissa again.

“I'm sorry, sir.”

“I do believe you're being sincere, son,” Larabee said, evaluating the look in his eyes.

“I am. I used poor judgment. Even if I had wanted to find out, I should have asked to go through the records first. That way you'd know what I was doing, and could approve my going in that direction.”

Larabee placed a paw on Todd's shoulder, giving him several firm pats.

“Now this is the sensible young man that I used to know. Make sure he stays put,” he said rising and striding back to his desk. In a display of machismo not seen since the demise of the spaghetti western, he pulled up his waistband. God, he was a piece of work.

Todd stared at the phone, and then the gloves. Tossing them to one side, he squelched the desire to make a call to the person who caused the upbraiding. He should have known better than to be going on wild goose chases, but none of it changed his opinion of the sultry, young girl that had entered his life. He was still itching to see her.

Chapter Thirty-two

Having survived Viktor’s class, Melissa rushed to studio three. Alexei appeared in the doorway. Perusing the room, he smiled. Boldly striding in, his carriage was only surpassed by his supreme confidence.

All the dancer’s muscles warmed from Viktor's class, they launched right into the variation Melissa had practiced with Tina. Blotting out the memory, she sailed through it, doing it perfectly the first time. Alexei was effusive in his praise. The recognition unsettled Zoe, but Missy lapped it up. These past few weeks had made her needy.