Angel's Dance

by Heidi Angell

  Grant walked out of the hotel lobby and glanced at her in surprise. “Uh.. did you want a hand with that? You don’t have to bring it all, you know,” he smiled lightly.

  Clear could feel herself blushing and hoped that he couldn’t see it in the dark. “I.. well, I didn’t have a lot of time to pack and I’m not really sure what is in which bag. Stupid really, but I can carry it. Thanks.” She pulled back as he reached for one of her bags.

  “Oh.. ok.” He leaned in the trunk and grabbed his own bag then headed for their room. Clear followed as quickly as she could, wishing she had taken more time to pack more carefully. She had felt such an urgent need to go before she chickened out, though.

  Grant unlocked the door to their room and pushed it open. Clear trundled through and dropped her bags in a huff then looked up. There was only one bed.

  “Oh.” she gasped, looking around. There was one bed and a high-back, soft chair. A small table was off to the side and an old television dominated the wall in front of the bed. “Um…” She didn’t know what to say. She glanced at Grant quickly and registered the surprise on his face as well. “I need to use the bathroom,” she announced, giving herself some time to think. She grabbed the bag that she was pretty sure had her pajamas and toothpaste in them and lumbered into the only other doorway, praying it was the bathroom. She closed the door tight and slumped to the floor, rummaging through her bag to see what she had with her. How were they going to do this? There was no way she was crawling into bed with him again!

  She pulled her clothes out of the bag and changed into pajama pants and a tank, then threw her hoodie on over it. Stalling for time, she pulled her toothbrush and toothpaste out and began to brush. Rinsing, she still had no idea what to do, but figured she couldn’t stall any longer. She shoved her belongings back into the bag and took two deep breaths before pulling the door open.

  “Sorry I took so long…” She looked around the room for Grant and then saw him on the floor. “Oh…”

  He nodded to the blankets and pillow he had set up. “I found these in the closet.”

  “But…” Clear sputtered, feeling very bad about him driving all day and then laying out on the floor. “Isn’t that… uncomfortable?”

  Grant patted the hideous shag carpet. “Lots of extra fluff.”

  Clear shook her head. “Look I’ll sleep on the floor. You can have the bed. I mean, you drove all day and all I did was sleep.”

  “I’m fine.” Grant sighed. “Snug as a bug in a rug.”

  “But you will not be fine in the morning and you have to drive all day,” Clear pointed out.

  “Only a couple of hours.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” Clear snapped, pointing fiercely at the bed.

  “A gentleman wouldn’t let a lady sleep on the floor,” Grant insisted, setting his jaw tightly.

  Clear let out a very unladylike guffaw before clamping her mouth shut on all the thoughts racing through her head, like the fact that a gentleman would have called after the last night they had spent together. She instead spun on her heel and slammed her bag into the chair.

  “Clear….” When she spun around he was already standing. “Look, I don’t want to fight. Please,” his hands were out at his side. “I… I need your help. I know after everything… well, I know this is hard on both of us. I am simply trying to make it.. less… difficult. Please, let’s not fight.”

  Clear nodded that she understood. She wanted to cry and couldn’t understand that. It felt like he had regrets too, but she wasn’t sure what he regretted. Not calling her, or having slept with her in the first place? She desperately wanted answers, but was afraid of the answers too. All of a sudden she felt so weary.

  “I don’t want to fight either. At your age you can’t possibly sleep comfortably on the floor. Why are we acting like children? It’s a king-sized bed. We can both sleep in it.” She bit her lip, hoping he would refuse but feeling immediately guilty at the thought. He gave her that detective once over. Cold and professional. She almost felt like squirming under that gaze.

  “Alright, if you’re sure it won’t bother you.” He climbed into bed on the far side. She looked up in surprise realizing he hadn’t changed from earlier. Well. The more clothes the better. She turned the light off and crept carefully to the edge of the bed, hating the unfamiliarity of it all. Her knee bumped the edge of the bed and she exhaled loudly then quickly slipped under the blankets and clung to the edge of the bed. She could hear Grant’s breathing and even though it was steady and smooth, it made her feel completely wired. She wasn’t going to sleep a wink.

  Clear unexpectedly awoke to a light filtering through the shades. She felt slightly disoriented and started to roll over before almost falling off the bed. A bed that was not her bed. She clung to the edge for just a moment then slowly rolled the other way. Grant was still asleep, still above the covers. The light gently accentuated his sharp roman nose and highlighted his curls that were a moppy mess atop his head. She lay there for several minutes watching him sleep. He looked older like this. The skin around his eyes was all puffy and the stern lines around his mouth indicating that he rarely smiled. He also looked vulnerable.

  Clear wanted to hold him and make him feel better. She wanted to make him smile and laugh. At that very moment she wanted to run her fingers through his hair and play with his curls, but she knew that was a bad idea. His silence over the last few months had made it abundantly obvious that he did not want a relationship with her. The only reason they were here together was because he was desperate for his daughter. With that stinging thought, Clear rolled over and flopped out of bed. She grabbed her bags and hauled them into the bathroom and pulled everything out to organize it. Glancing at her watch, she groaned as she realized it was only 5:30 in the morning.

  Her neck and back were so taut, probably from clinging to the edge of the bed all night. After she organized her bags, she realized it had only taken 20 minutes. Too tense to go back to bed, she pulled out clothes for the day and decided to jump in the shower, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Grant.

  The hot steam rolled over her, helping to unknot the muscles around her neck. She scrubbed hard with her luffa willing the muscles to uncoil, and then leaned into the water breathing in the scent of her soap. She began to drift and her mind relaxed, releasing even more tension from her neck.

  Suddenly she was in a dark room. There was no light and everything smelled damp and moldy. Her hands were bound and there was a gag in her mouth. She could feel dried tears on her cheeks and the stinging behind her eyes that indicated more tears would come soon. Because it was so dark, Clear could not make out any distinguishing features of the room. She realized that she was with someone who was experiencing intense fear. The girl’s legs were nearly frozen and kept cramping up from the cold of the floor. The floor felt like unfinished cement. The girl was tied to a pole and the angle sent spasms of pain through her shoulders and back. The pole was also very cold. Clear tried to separate herself from the girl, so that she could try to see something. In the darkness there was nothing to see. Knowing she was tied to the girl’s emotions, Clear tried to connect with her more, hoping to get a name, or location, or some memory from the girl. She felt as if she were close to making a connection, when all at once there was a banging sound and Clear found herself kneeling naked in a freezing shower with Grant towering over her.

  She gasped trying to scramble out of the icy water and Grant snatched her up wrapping a towel around her and pulling her into the other room. He plopped her down on the bed and began rubbing her vigorously with the towel.

  “Good God!” he growled, “You are blue from head to toe.” The rubbing was beginning to hurt as the blood began to flow back into her limbs and she yelped. Grant pulled back. “Are you alright?”

  Her teeth were chattering so hard she could not talk. “I…it h…hu…rtttt….s.” He immediately stopped rubbing and instead grabbed up the blankets wrapping them around both of them and pulling her hard against
him. She tried to pull away, feeling awkward so close to him, and extremely disoriented, a part of her mind still in that dank room. The memories of the room were fading fast and her numb brain could not hold onto any of the details.

  “I think you are hypothermic. We’ve got to warm you up. Your body isn’t warm enough for the blankets to help. Sit still.” He clamped his arms around her and began gently rubbing her back and arms, careful where he touched. She could feel flames from his hands. Not just his natural warmth, but her body responding to him being so close. He was still fully clothed and she wrapped her arms around him feeling his hard chest through his shirt. She tucked her head into his shoulder, turning it into the crook by his neck, in part to warm her face and in part to keep from looking at him, and having him look at her. Her fingers were numb and she tucked them under his shirt in the back. He jumped a bit but didn’t pull away when she began to slowly and gently rub her fingers across the small of his back. The movement brought the warmth into her fingers and then she began moving her hands. With the bigger coverage area, it took a further distance to keep any one spot from turning the same temperature as her frozen palms.

  She could feel his hands mimicking the same motions across her back. As she slowed he would also slow. There was a sensuality to the motions, that should have had her blood boiling. She wanted to push hard and have him push back, but finally her brain defrosted enough for her to realize how indecent this all was. Here she was completely naked, in a bed, rubbing… ‘ugh!’

  She pulled away and grabbed the blanket as she went, pulling it tight around her and tucking her hands under her armpits. Peeking at him through the strands of her hair, for just a brief moment she saw a flicker of… something… then he was back to business. He jumped from the bed and grabbed another towel from the bathroom, tossing it over her head and rubbing gently.

  “How are your feet?” he asked, glancing down.

  Clear had no idea, she couldn’t even feel them. She stared dumbly at him, not really able to respond. He knelt and taking a foot in one hand, began rubbing it vigorously. She tried to pull away again as the tingling started. He dropped that foot and rubbed the other one vigorously, the painful sensation bringing tears to her eyes. Then he grabbed some socks from the floor and put them on her.

  “I know it hurts,” he muttered gently as he continued to rub, “but if we don’t do this, we can’t get the circulation going again.”

  After a few minutes she pulled her feet away, the pain and numbness now past. Complete and utter humiliation and embarrassment at the predicament she once again found herself in warming every inch of her skin.

  “I’m fine now,” she murmured, trying not to cry.

  Grant looked up at her uncertainly. After a moment he seemed to decide to trust her. He pulled himself up onto the bed next to her. She scooted away wrapping the blankets around her tighter, painfully aware of how nude she was.

  “What happened?” he asked gently.

  “Just me… being me,” Clear grumbled, the tears choking her.

  “Was it…?” The question hung. Clear knew he was asking if it was about his daughter, but she really had no idea who the girl was. She might have gotten something if he had just left her alone… then again she might have frozen to death. She grimaced.

  “I don’t know… what happened, or who she was… or where… or when,” she shrugged in a non-committal manner and put her head in her palms.

  Grant stood up abruptly and went and grabbed the clothes she had laid out in the bathroom. He tossed them on the bed. “I’ll just wait outside.” He headed out the door.

  Clear quickly threw on her clothes, her skin still burning, and groaned inwardly. What a mess. She scrubbed her head hard to dry her hair and get her brain working right. This wasn’t going to work if she kept getting into these compromising positions. All she could think about was how warm and comfortable it had been in Grant’s arms. That was the last place she should be thinking about! She mentally slapped herself and ripped a hairbrush through the knots she had engendered by the vigorous hair drying. Pulling her hair into a tight ponytail, she stomped to the door and opened it.

  “You can come back in now,” she said a little more harshly than she had intended. Grant eyed her warily then came back in. He grabbed his bag and walked into the bathroom. She started shoving her stuff back into her bag and then scooped up the two bags and snatched the keys up, stomping out to the car. She popped the trunk and launched her bags in unceremoniously.

  The sun was out bright and warm, despite the chill in the air. Clear glowered up at the sun and wondered what time it was. Well after eight, she figured. How long had she been in the shower? Long enough for the water in a hotel to have gone cold. She closed her eyes and tilted her head up to the light, trying to sift through what had happened.

  A shadow crossed her vision and she opened her eyes to see Grant standing nearby. His bag was over his shoulder. He had changed, but hadn’t shaved. She noticed how some of the stubble across his chin reflected the light, making it almost look like he had silver droplets on his face.

  “Ready to go?” he asked politely… a little too politely.

  Clear shrugged again and moved so he could put his bag in with hers. He walked around to the other side and waited for her to unlock the doors. They both climbed in and she passed him the keys. He started the car and pulled up to the motel lobby.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “Not really,” Clear sighed, her stomach a mass of knots that threatened to overflow at any moment.

  “Right, well, let me know when you are.” Grant shrugged and ran in to settle the bill. He was back in just a few minutes.

  “If you are hungry, we can stop,” Clear pointed out.

  “Not so much. Finding a friend half-dead in the shower tends to kill one’s appetite,” Grant said a bit snarkily. So much for polite. “Sorry… I’m not really much of a morning person,” Grant amended.

  Clear shrugged again and pulled her hoodie around her tighter. Grant turned up the heat. She gave him the ghost of a half-smile then turned to face the window. The highway followed fields and fields of corn and barley. Their stalks looking like gold in the early morning light. With all the warmth and light, Clear still felt chilled. She just couldn’t shake the cold from that dank room from her vision. What if she was just leaving that poor girl behind? What if that girl died and Clear could have helped her? But she bit back the torrent of feelings. There was no way she could help. She hadn’t seen anything that could help. She didn’t even know if it was happening now. She needed to focus on helping Grant find his daughter. They would be in Chicago in a few hours and she needed to mentally prepare to face the windy city, all its inhabitants, and all their thoughts. She carefully worked on mentally reconstructing the walls that she and Anne had been working on. Part of her worried that this would also block out anything from Kat, unfortunately, she didn’t know how to make partial walls. That had not been the goal in their process. She certainly couldn’t help Kat if she was being driven mad by everyone else.

  Thirty minutes later and it was so hot in the cab that she was sweating. She glanced at Grant and could see the beads of sweat on his upper lip. She quickly cranked the heater down and rolled down her window.

  She saw a sign for a drive-thru burger joint and her stomach growled. She wasn’t sure if it growled out of hunger or because the thought of food was still repulsive, but she figured Grant needed to eat. “Are you hungry yet?” she ventured.

  “We can stop if you are,” Grant replied casually.

  “We don’t have to stop,” Clear qualified, pointing at the next sign. “I mean, we just got on the road.”

  Grant shrugged. He took the exit and pulled into the drive-thru. After placing his order he turned to Clear. She despised fast food, but didn’t really have any option. She hesitantly ordered yogurt, apple dippers and opted for a glass of water. Grant smirked at her out of the corner of his eye, but placed the order anyway.


  As they waited for their order, Grant said, “I didn’t know you were a vegetarian.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Clear gasped. “I don’t think there is a vegetarian in the entire state of Montana!!” She shook her head.

  “Well, your breakfast choice…” Grant began.

  Clear waved him off. “Ha!… Hardly! But the crap they serve isn’t real meat, or real eggs for that matter. Besides, grease just isn’t a really good idea right now.” She winced as her stomach gurgled loudly to illustrate her point.

  Grant nodded. “I was wondering about the burger last night. Makes sense.” He took their order from the woman at the counter and passed it all to Clear. She divvied up the food and offered him his sandwich. He nodded and she opened it for him before handing it over. There was a moment of silence as they both began to eat.

  Grant took a swig of his large coffee. “So do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

  Clear was caught completely off guard and chewed her apple slice slowly, wondering what ‘it’ he was referring to. There were so many ‘its’ she wanted to talk to him about, but she sort of felt like most of them were off limits. Such as the ‘it’ that had happened after their last case, the ‘it’ that had happened in her living room, the ‘it’ that had happened in the hotel room, the ‘it’ that was the reason they were on this trip in the first place.

  Swallowing her completely masticated scraps of apple, she coughed. “Which ‘it’ are you referring to?” she asked as delicately as possible.

  “There’s more than one?” he arched that eyebrow at her and she had a sudden urge to rip it off. Groaning, she turned away.

  “We don’t have to. I was just offering,” Grant grunted.

  “There are plenty of ‘its’ to talk about.” Clear pointed out, starting with the safest it. “For example the ‘it’ where I didn’t even know you had a daughter.” She sighed looking out the window. When he didn’t respond, she looked back at him. He was staring very sternly out the window. She figured he wouldn’t answer that and she had even hit him with a relative softball compared to all the ‘its’ running through her head right now.