by KB Winters
I looked up at Jason and my heart twisted at the sincere look in his eyes. He was one of the sweetest people I’d ever met, and he was so humble even though he was easily one of the most talented dancers I’d ever seen. “Thank you, Jason. I appreciate that. I really do.”
He stared at me for a moment longer and then cut off, looking past my shoulder. He released his hold on me and I whipped around, half expecting Ryker to be stalking across the lot, fists up, ready to brawl with Jason right then and there. However, the lot was empty, and when my eyes went back to Jason’s they were back on mine. “Is there someone you’re already seeing? I guess I never asked.”
Guilt washed over me, and I desperately wished I could melt into a puddle right there on the sidewalk. “Yes and no,” I replied after a long pause. “There was, and I guess…I’m not really over it yet.”
Jason nodded and offered a small smile. “I’m sorry. I know how that goes.”
I twisted my fingers together in front of me, staring down at my intertwined knuckles, unsure of what to say next. I knew we needed to get back inside and continue rehearsals—no matter how much I wanted to run in the other direction and get as far away from the pressure as possible—but neither of us made a move to go back inside.
Finally, Jason spoke, his tone a little different than before, stiffer and more rigid. “We should get back. Let me know what you need help with, okay?”
“Thanks.”
Jason led us inside and Ricardo jumped up from his seat behind a small desk that he used for notes and to keep the stereo that piped the music through the room. He rushed us back to our places, and although he didn’t say anything about our absence, he was snippy and short with the cast for the rest of the afternoon.
And it was all my fault.
When rehearsals were over, I escaped to my car while Jason was still changing. I had a feeling that he’d want to continue our conversation, possibly even go out for an early dinner or out for a drink, and I didn’t have a real reason not to—other than the fact that I didn’t want to.
At the same time, I didn’t want to be alone. I longed for Tori’s smiling, sarcastic face. For once, I’d love to go home and get all glam to go out with her. The idea of going to a bar, or club, and throwing back a few drinks and dancing and giggling the night away with my best friend, was intoxicating, and only made me miss her all the more.
I got in the car and started driving toward the Strip, hoping some of the excitement and electric buzz of the bustling city would somehow transfer to me and lighten my mood. My internal auto pilot took over and before I consciously realized where I was going, I found myself on the street that led to my old dance studio. I smiled at the familiar signs along the side of the road, many of the places listed on the signs held memories for me. I drove around the old neighborhood, wrapping around the maze of streets, until I pulled into the small lot beside the studio. It was still fairly early, and a class was in progress. I sat behind the wheel and watched my former students practice along the barre. My heart surged with nostalgia and I had to blink away tears before cutting the engine and getting out of the car.
As soon as I walked in the doors, the girls piled on me, many of them had seen me approaching through the floor to ceiling windows. There were cheers and laughter as they tackled me, and I laughed along as I hugged each of them in turn and asked them how they were doing.
The new teacher, a young lady, probably around my age, came over towards the mass of girls that were still bouncing in a circle around me, chattering away about everything from the latest nail polish color they’d discovered, to the more relevant things, like the performance they’d put on for their families the weekend before. She was around my height and build, but with dark features and hair. She smiled at me and extended a hand. “You must be the famous Miss Everlie,” she said, referencing the name the students called me.
“Yes.” I smiled and took her warm hand. “Sorry for the interruption, I was…in the neighborhood.”
“No worries.” She smiled at the girls and my heart warmed. Her love for them was evident in her eyes. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but, it was comforting to see that my position had been filled by someone who really cared. “I’m Ana.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“You as well. Listen, we’re just about to wrap,” she replied, glancing up at the clock on the wall. “You’re more than welcome to stick around.”
“Thanks.” I bent over and addressed the girls. “Okay ladies, let’s get back to what Miss Ana was having you do. We can catch up once you’re done.”
They all scampered off and resumed their drills with Ana watching carefully over their form and timing. I smiled sadly as I watched, a flood of memories from all the time I’d spent doing the same thing. I knew I’d been missing it, but the effect of being back was far more overwhelming than I’d anticipated. I walked to the row of chairs and my chest tightened as my eyes fell on the chair Ryker had sat in to watch me dance for him the first time he’s come to the studio. I sank into the one next to it, letting my fingertips graze the place he’d been.
What am I doing? I chided myself, snapping back to reality. I jerked my hand off the chair and forced it to my lap as I waited for the girls to finish their class. Ryker was gone. His place in my life was abandoned, just like the chair. Nothing but a memory.
“They miss you,” Ana said, stepping to my side, as we waved the last girls out the door with their parents when the class finished.
“I miss them too.” I swallowed hard and stuffed down the urge to break down into sobs on the laminate flooring.
Ana glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “But you’re going to be in a big show! That must be so exciting!”
I forced myself to smile and nod, calling back to my early teen years when my mother forced me into local pageants because it was what all her friends were doing with their daughters my age. “Yeah, it’s great.”
“I just went on an audition this last weekend and man…I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. You’re lucky to be out of that popularity contest.” She laughed like we were sharing an inside joke, but it died on her lips when I didn’t join in. She cleared her throat. “Not that you hit a lottery or something…I know you’re a great dancer. The girls tell me all the time.”
I brushed her arm to assure her I hadn’t taken offense at her statement. “Thank you for being so sweet to them and for letting me drop by.”
Ana nodded, but her expression was a little confused. “Of course. Come anytime you like.”
“Thank you. Goodnight, Ana. It was nice to meet you.”
She reciprocated my sentiments as I pushed out the glass doors and started across the lot to my car. I hadn’t been sure what I was looking for when I left rehearsals, but after visiting my old studio, it was so painfully obvious, I couldn’t believe I’d missed it before.
The reason everything appeared so messed up, was because it was.
It was all wrong. But now I knew what to do to fix it.
Chapter Eighteen
Everlie
As soon as I got home from the dance studio, I dug through the pile of old mail and papers that had been building up on the kitchen table in Tori’s absence. When I found the scrap of paper that I was looking for, I dug my phone out of my pocket and dialed the number.
After a few rings, I received a suspicious, “Hello?”
“Bennett? It’s Everlie. I need to talk to you about Tori.”
Bennett groaned. “How did you even get my number?” He paused, but before I could answer, he grunted. “Never mind. Stupid question. Listen, Everlie, I’ll be honest with you, I can’t tell you anything. As it is, you probably know way more than you’re supposed to, thanks to my blabbermouth buddy Mr. Ryker.”
My heart slammed against my chest with a frantic, staccato pace. “Wait! Wait! Please, don’t hang up. I know this isn’t my job, or anything like that, but Tori is my best friend and I need to know that she’s okay.”
An unexpected flurry of tears blurred my vision. I lowered myself into the dining room chair, suddenly too weak to stand. “Bennett, please…if you ever cared about her, please tell me what’s going on.”
Silence stretched between us for an unbearable minute. Finally, he sighed, and my heart rocketed back to its rightful place, beating out a new hopeful rhythm. “All right, all right. Keep your panties on. Tori is in FBI custody. She’s been moved to a holding cell, and I’m sure that while it’s not up to her normal standards of comfort, she’s safe and being taken care of.”
“But why? Why are they holding her?”
“Because an informant…I can’t say who, so don’t ask…gave us her name and told us that she was skimming money from the club she worked at in order to fund the militia group we’ve been tracking. We have the leaders of that group in custody and none of them are going anywhere for a very long, fuckin’ time. At this point, we’re just tying up loose ends. Tori is one of those ends.”
I pinched my eyes closed. It sounded hopeful and horrible all at once. I knew to my core, they had the wrong girl, but I had no way of proving it. Not without Bennett and Ryker’s help. “Bennett, you know Tori didn’t do this. She’s a little wild, but there’s no way she was stealing. Especially not to fund some crazy militia group that want to hurt people.”
He paused, and I wished we were on a video call, so I could get a look at his face and attempt to read his expression. “Bennett?”
“Yeah, Everlie, I get it. I don’t think she did it either. But guess what, I’m just an asset. I don’t have a lot of pull around here. My job was to track the group, bring them in dead or alive, and as it stands now, that’s all done. So, really, I’m just waiting to be shipped out on my next mission. There isn’t anything I can really do anymore.”
“But how can they hold her without proof? If it’s just one person’s word against hers? What happened to innocent until proved guilty?”
“It’s not that simple. I wish it was. The FBI has enough evidence to hold her. Trust me, I’ve been trying to figure something out,” his voice went soft and I perked up, for the first time wondering what exactly had happened between him and Tori.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“You just have to wait and see how it pans out. I’ll keep doing what I can, but like I said, I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here in Vegas. My commander could call me any day with my next assignment. I’m not permanently with the Vegas unit.”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “Okay. Thanks Bennett. You have my number now, so let me know if you find anything or need me to do anything, okay?”
“What happened with you and Ryker? He’s doing his boomerang routine again, and I know it has something to do with you.” Bennett’s rapid fire question caught me off guard and my eyes went wide with alarm.
“I—we—he…” I sputtered for a moment before taking the time to draw in a long, ragged breath. “It’s a really, really long story. But, it boils down to the simple fact that we’re not together anymore. I really don’t even know if we ever were…”
Bennett was quiet for a moment, and I pictured him silently mulling over my patchwork explanation. “He loves you, you know?”
A searing pain sliced through my chest like a hot knife. “I know,” I whispered.
“I’ll call you if I figure anything out,” he said, after another stilted pause.
“Thank you.”
We hung up, and I dropped my arms down to the table and buried my face, unable to hold back the tears that had been brewing all day.
* * * *
After a good cry, I collected myself and went down the hall, still clutching my phone. Bennett’s words were ringing in my head and my heart still ached from the sting of them. My moment of clarity outside the ballet studio felt like it had been days, or weeks, ago. Everything was blurry and confusing again.
I stopped short of the door to my bedroom, and my gaze slid to the white door across the hall. Tori’s door. The FBI had pillaged through it just like they had the rest of the house, but it was the only room I hadn’t bothered trying to fix up. I’d been in Tori’s room hundreds of times before, but never alone. For whatever reason, it felt like it would be a violation of her privacy if I were to go in and sift through her belongings. But, as I stood there, considering the situation, I moved past that awkward feeling and entered the room.
I flipped on the lights and stared, open mouthed, at the wreckage left behind after the search. Tori wasn’t the world’s neatest person, but the way the drawers of her small writing desk hung open, emptied of their contents, and the stacks of papers and books that littered the floor made me sick. She’d flip her lid if she came home to this mess.
I couldn’t help to get her out of jail, but I could make sure that when—not if—she came back home, it would be to a neat and tidy room. I pocketed my phone and started working to clean the room. I moved like a machine, robotic arms and legs scooping books off the floor and depositing them on the long, low bookshelf under the window. Then I moved to stack the discarded papers and put them on her desk, unsure what they were, and where Tori normally kept them. Her dresser drawers were all open, but at least the contents hadn’t been dumped on the floor. I shut the drawers and moved into her walk-in closet to straighten and arrange the clothing and jewelry stored inside.
A few hours of work had everything looking back to normal—better than normal—and I was about to leave and go across the hall to my own room, when my eyes snagged on the stack of papers I’d left on the desk. Something about them puzzled me. I tiptoed back into the room like I was afraid of getting caught and went to the desk. I picked up the pile and leafed through the stack. Some of the pages looked like fan mail, handwritten letters given to her at her shows or mailed into her club where she was regarded as the star. A few other pages looked like junk mail offers she hadn’t tossed out or sent through the shredder. And then, at the bottom of the stack, was a stack of bank account statements. I couldn’t help but run an eye down the list, looking at the debits and credits, slightly staggered by the amount of money she made. I’d suspected for some time that she didn’t really need a roommate anymore, and that she was more than capable of affording her own apartment, but didn’t want to move away from me, and the numbers on the page proved it.
The girl was rolling in money.
I was about to set it all aside, but a figure stopped me cold.
Several weeks before, she’d pulled nearly twenty thousand dollars out of her account. I tracked back in my memories, trying to think of what had been going on at the time and why on earth she’d needed such a large amount of cash. She hadn’t purchased a new car or any other big ticket items. I couldn’t even remember her coming home from a major shopping trip. Whenever she bought something for herself, she wasn’t shy about showing it off. Tori wasn’t flashy with her money, but she couldn’t hold back her excitement when she made a new purchase. There was no way she’d have spent twenty thousand dollars without saying something.
I scanned back up and down the account statement from that month, but nothing else looked out of the ordinary. After setting aside the bank pages, I went back through the other paperwork to see if there were any other clues, but it all looked the same as it had through my first pass.
Normal.
Except for that withdrawal.
“Tori what happened?” I asked the empty room. “What did you do…?”
Bennett had said she was accused of stealing money from her work and had given it to the group they’d been after. Had that been the twenty thousand dollars? A shadow of doubt crept up behind me and suddenly had me questioning Tori. She’d been gone more often in the weeks leading up to her arrest, but I’d chalked that up to her busy work schedule and appetite for a good party. It hadn’t seemed unusual at the time. But now…after this…
I sighed and left her bedroom, knowing there wasn’t any way to get the answers without talking to her about it. The scariest thoug
ht came to me later as I was trying to dodge my worry riddled thoughts long enough to fall asleep.
Ryker had confessed that the group they’d arrested were terrorists. If Tori had stolen from her job to give money to the group, would that make her a terrorist too?
Chapter Nineteen
Ryker
The plane ticket back to Oklahoma hadn’t happened yet. I couldn’t bring myself to buy the damn thing. I knew it was insane, pacing around a hotel room all night, and wandering the streets during the day, churning over whether I wanted to go—yet. It should have been the easiest decision in the world.
After a few days, I finally sat down at the table in my hotel room and pulled out my phone and my wallet.
Halfway through filling out my information on a ticket scheduled to leave the next afternoon, a knock sounded at the door. I jerked a look over my shoulder towards the door and thought about ignoring whoever was on the other side. The only people who even knew I was in town were Everlie and Bennett. And I didn’t want to see either one of them.
Or at least that’s what I kept telling myself.
Another knock—with growing impatience—rapped on the door and I heaved out of the chair and stalked over to answer it. When I swung it open, Bennett was standing there with a white fast food bag in one hand, and a six pack of beer bottles dangled from his fingertips. “Room service.” He said, grinning at me.
I grunted my consent and backed away from the door to let him in. Within seconds, he had all the food unpacked and spread out all over the table and popped the tops off of two bottles of IPA. He was dressed in civilian clothing and I assumed he had the day off.
“I wasn’t expecting you to still be here, but I brought supplies just in case,” he said, handing me a beer.
“Yeah, me either.” I took a swig from the bottle as he stashed the rest in my mini fridge.
Bennett threw himself into one of the chairs and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows before grabbing for the first of a pile of wrapped burgers. “Does she know?”
