Dead on the Dance Floor (33 page)

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Authors: Heather Graham

BOOK: Dead on the Dance Floor
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There was a collective sigh of relief.

“Sweetheart, we've got to go home,” Mina Long said to her husband.

“Right. Well, good night all,” Richard said.

Gabriel stood, as well. “There's no need for all of us to be hanging around here, that's for sure.”

“Are you going back to the club, Gabe?” Gordon asked.

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I'm not tired. We never close until five.”

“I don't remember if I locked up. Check the studio for me?”

“Sure thing.”

“You can give me a ride back,” Katarina said. “My car is there.”

“All right.”

“I'm heading home,” Gordon said, rising.

“I guess we could all go,” Rhianna commented with a yawn.

“I'm staying here awhile. I want to see her when they take her out of recovery,” Shannon said.

Ben said, “Then what? Your car is at the studio, too.”

“I'll wait around,” Quinn said.

“Yeah, well, I was going to hang around, too,” Doug told them.

“Were you?” Gordon queried him, looking at Shannon.

“Good night,” she said simply.

Gordon nodded. They all began to file on out.

Then they were left alone in the waiting room, Doug, Shannon and Quinn.

“It really was just appendicitis?” Shannon said, sinking into a chair.

Doug sat next to her, taking her hand. “Really. Just appendicitis.”

She let out a long sigh and leaned back. Then her head jerked back up, and she stared at Quinn. “What about that woman they found on the beach?”

“There's nothing new,” he told her. “I'm expecting to hear anytime.”

Quinn pulled his cell phone out and put a call through to Marnie. When he explained that the teachers had suggested she come in and train for a job, her scream of delight was so loud that Quinn had to hold the phone away from his ear.

“I mean, oh, Lord, I'm so sorry about Jane, but…I don't think she'll mind about me, do you? Oh, God, it's like a dream come true. I was on the streets, and now…I'm a dancer.” She giggled over the line. “And I don't even have to go to some raunchy dive and dance with a pole. I'm going to be a ballroom instructor. Oh, I could kiss you, all of you, even old Mr. Clinton.” Another giggle. “I guess I will be kissing him. You know, the kiss on both cheeks every time someone comes in. Thank you, tell them all thank you, and I'll work so hard they won't believe it. Tell Gordon and Shannon thank you so much!”

“I think Shannon heard you,” Quinn said dryly.

“There's a problem,” Marnie said suddenly.

“What's that?”

“How am I going to get to and from the studio from here?” She was still talking loudly enough for Shannon and Doug to hear.

“Tell her she can stay at my house.
In
my house, this time,” Shannon said.

Quinn stared at her for a moment, then repeated her words to Marnie, who went into another fit of gratitude.

“She won't be sorry. I'll clean the house. I'll cook. I'll do anything!” Marnie said.

Shannon took the phone from Quinn. “Hey, just work at becoming a teacher—that's going to be quite a load. And, work for yourself, too. The world of competition is out there, you know.”

Quinn heard Marnie exclaim that she could never be that good. Shannon just shook her head. “Get some sleep, Marnie. You'll need it.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“You're welcome. And you're doing us a favor, too.” Shannon was smiling as she handed the phone back to Quinn, who managed to calm Marnie down and hang up quickly.

“It's a shame we didn't think of offering her a job to begin with,” she murmured, looking at Quinn. “Lots of teachers start out knowing nothing at all and don't have half the natural ability of that girl.”

“Fate,” Doug said from across the room.

“What?” Both Shannon and Quinn looked at him.

“Sometimes fate is good,” he said. “Marnie needed a life, now she's got one. Jane will be all right soon enough, and Marnie will have a job, not just selling clothes, but a real vocation.”

A nurse came in then, telling them that they could see Jane briefly.

Quinn decided to remain in the waiting room while Shannon and Doug went in. A while later, his brother came back out.

“There's a chair that becomes a bed,” Doug told his brother. “Shannon is going to stay the night.”

Quinn nodded, looking at Doug. “You all right?”

Doug nodded. “I'm on first thing in the morning.” He shook his head. “Hell, tonight…at first I was terrified. I thought that…It was just too much like déjà vu.”

“It was appendicitis,” Quinn said.

Doug looked at him. “But there
is
something wrong. You know it now, right? Quinn, I know I dragged you into this, but I was right, wasn't I?”

“Yeah, you were right.”

“But I still don't get it. That woman who washed up on the beach…what can she have to do with this?”

“I don't know,” Quinn said. “But there's something, and I intend to find out what.”

 

The next morning, Jane awoke moaning. Shannon rushed to her side.

Jane's eyes widened. “You stayed all night?”

“Sure.”

“You must be exhausted.”

“Actually, the chair was quite comfortable.”

Jane tried to smile. She looked at Shannon anxiously. “I'm really all right?”

“You're really all right. You had honest-to-God appendicitis.”

Jane tried for a smile.

“Jane, after you fell down, you said you'd been poisoned. Is there some reason why someone would want to poison you?” Shannon asked.

“No, we'd just gotten to talking around the coffeepot, and Mina Long was saying that she can't figure out how Lara could have been dumb enough to take so many pills. The alcohol didn't surprise her—she said she'd seen Lara belt down a few, then go out on stage like it was nothing. I'm trying to remember who was back there at the time…not that it matters now. But Mina said maybe someone had put the pills in her drink or something like that. Then I had coffee, and then I was in agony.”

“I see,” Shannon told her, suddenly certain she didn't want to drink coffee in the studio ever again.

“Silly, huh?”

“Well, you're all right, and that's what matters.”

A look of dismay swept over Jane's face. “They said I just made it. That if my appendix had actually ruptured, I could have died.”

“But you're going to be fine.”

Jane shook her head. “What about all my students?”

“It will all work out.”

“It can't. We don't have enough teachers to go around.”

“We're going to bring Marnie in, give her a crash course, and she can take over some of the beginners.”

“Marnie?” Jane said, surprised. Then she mulled over the idea. “If someone really works with her…Actually, I didn't know anything at all when I started. There's only one problem.”

“What is that?”

“What if the students like her better than me?”

Shannon laughed, squeezing Jane's hand. “We always have enough students to go around. And anyway, your students love you. It will be fine.”

“Maybe,” Jane said after a moment.

“Hey, I'll be back later, okay? Your nurse will be coming in any minute, and I've got to take a shower and head to the studio.”

“Of course. Thanks for staying.”

Shannon hesitated. She had always thought it best not to know things, but at the moment, she couldn't resist. “If I hadn't stayed, someone else would have.”

“Who?” Jane said, but she was blushing.

“Doug O'Casey.”

“Really?” Jane didn't seem able to prevent her smile.

“Yep.”

“Hmm. You know…never mind.”

“Do I know what?” Shannon asked a little sharply.

Jane shook her head. “I can't say I'm really going to miss Lara.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Jane!”

“Hey, don't harass me. I just had emergency surgery last night.”

“Jane?”

“Okay, well, I think I've had one of those ‘things' I'm not allowed to have on Doug for a long time. But when he saw Lara…well, he just had a look about him. Now Lara is gone. And he doesn't just think I'm the most wonderful teacher in the world, he…well, like I said, never mind.”

Shannon hesitated. “I think you should watch out for everyone right now,” she said quietly.

“Doug is a cop.”

“I know.”

“Then…?”

“I just think we should watch out for everyone.”

“Lara was murdered,” Jane said firmly. “You know, there are all kinds of top professionals who might have wanted her dead.”

Shannon grimaced. “Maybe. But something lately…something about the studio…I keep hearing something, a strange noise. I'm going to do a little prying, find out just what it is.”

“Don't be there alone, Shannon. Don't pry when you're alone.”

“Hey, the club is right downstairs, Katarina is right next door. But anyway, you just lie low and keep quiet, okay?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Jane said. “I don't have any choice, do I?”

“Nope.”

Shannon gave her a kiss on the forehead and departed, figuring she could take a cab to her house, then walk to work.

Early.

She would lock herself in, then figure out what in hell was making the noise that was driving her so crazy.

As she left the hospital, she suddenly felt very determined. She was tired of being frightened.

 

A little prying…

He'd been just about to enter the hospital room when he had heard Shannon's voice.

Flowers in hand, he stepped back, listening.

No, Shannon, you little fool. Don't pry. Don't be an idiot.

As he stood there, listening, he realized that there was no help for it.

Shannon Mackay would look just as beautiful as Lara Trudeau…in a coffin.

She was coming out!

He started to back away, then dropped the flowers and threaded his way between two nurses and an old lady in a wheelchair. He hurried down the hall. Turning, he could see Shannon.

He didn't wait for the elevator but took the stairs.

Once on the ground, he was furious with himself. What an idiot he'd been. He should have walked right on in and put his flowers down.

He waited until Shannon Mackay was on the street. He watched as she hailed a taxi.

Then he ran back into the hospital, took the elevator and hurried along the hall.

His flowers were still on the floor.

He picked them up, looked in on Jane. She was sleeping again. He walked down the hall and entered a room, dropping the flowers on the table beside an older woman.

“Your lucky day, honey,” he told her, then exited the hospital once again.

As he came out into the sun, he remained irritated with himself. Cops always said that killers were bound to mess up somewhere.

He'd been an idiot, running away like that. What the hell had been the matter with him? Like the cops said, he'd fucked up.

No. He could walk in anywhere, any time, and act normally. Shannon had just given him a moment's pause.

He wouldn't mess up again. He was far too good for that.

He would be even more careful, more clever.

When he finally went for her she would never know.

 

Richard Long's offices were magnificent.

He practiced with another man, Dr. Bertrand Diaz, and between them, they did quite a business. The waiting room was crowded with women when Quinn arrived, and all of them attractive, even if a few did look a little…plastic.

At least Long did plastic well.

He spoke to the receptionist, and with the amount of people in the office, he was surprised to be shown into the doctor's office rather quickly.

Richard Long seemed pleasantly surprised to see him. “I'm sure you're not thinking about surgery, are you, Quinn?” he demanded, half-sitting on the edge of his mahogany desk and folding his arms over his chest with a look of amusement. “So…to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

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