The Dance

by James Goodman

“What? I said get on your knees.”

  “I don’t get on my knees for any man. I have been called a lot of names, but cocksucker isn’t one of them and it never will be.”

  “What are you talking about? I am going to put cuffs on you. I need you to get on your knees, now or else—”

  “Not gonna happen,” Kyle interrupted.

  “Do you have a death wish or something?”

  “Nope, I just don’t want to have my mouth violated.”

  “Get down, now, or so help me god, I am going to pump you full of lead.”

  “You ain’t pumping me at all. I thought we already went over all this.”

  The officer squeezed off a round at Kyle’s feet. Kyle looked down at the wisp of dust and sand as it materialized beneath him. A smile slowly spread across his face as he looked back at the officer.

  “Now, Sergeant Dansky, is that any way for you to treat an old friend?”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “Oh, we go way back, Rick.”

  “God damn it, man, you had better answer me. How do you know that?”

  Kyle shrugged, pleased at the effect he was having on him, but unsure of exactly how he knew.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Kyle.”

  “Kyle, what?”

  “Kyle Kyle, bo bile, banana fana fo file, fee phi, fo mile… Kyle.” He nearly doubled over from his laughter.

  “You are seriously messed up in the head, big guy.”

  “I used to think I was,” Kyle said, a serious look reclaiming his face. “Now, I realize I have always had a firm grip on my sanity. It is your reality that’s twisted.”

  “Okay, psycho, playtime is over. It's time to get your face on the ground. This shit is too weird for me to handle.”

  “Yeah, playtime is over,” Kyle agreed walking towards him.

  “What are you doing? Stop… stop walking or I will shoot.”

  “I doubt that,” he said before laughter erupted from his throat like thunder.

  A shot rang out. He stopped laughing and watched as the dust caught on the breeze and floated away from him. Slowly, his gaze rose to the officer with the flashlight.

  “You would do well to put that thing away,” he warned in a voice riddled with menace.

  “The next shot won’t be in the ground,” the officer returned. “It will be in your chest.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “Try me,” he growled, the end of the pistol shook in his trembling hand.

  He was ready for the confrontation to be over before he lost his nerve. I have seen some crazy things in my life, but this guy is scaring the hell out of me.

  “Are you sure?” A smile spread across Kyle’s face.

  “What?”

  “Are you sure you want me to try you?”

  Before he had a chance to answer, Kyle was running at him in a full sprint. The officer didn’t hesitate, squeezing the trigger as quickly as it would recoil. He fired bullet after bullet at the charging lunatic. Holy shit! Why won’t this guy fall? He must be on LSD or something. He began to panic as Kyle closed the gap between them.

  Kyle leapt into the air, his arms stretched out before him ready to wrap up his victim and crush him into unconsciousness. He let out a startled cry as he felt his thighs collide into a table. It sent him tumbling through the air. He crashed into the far wall with enough force to knock all of the pictures free. They rained down around him, like a shower of memories, only heavier. The corner of a sterling frame raked across his cheek, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

  “What the fuck is going on around here?” he shouted.

  He was back in his own living room.

  “We both made the jump. I went to the house in the picture, but you went somewhere else. I was beginning to think I would never find you,” Nina explained.

  “Huh—” He pulled himself to his feet.

  “You’re bleeding!” She rushed to his side. “What happened to you?”

  “That frame cut my cheek when it fell.” Kyle pointed at the picture on the floor.

  “No, here.” She touched his shirt. Blood covered the front of it and the stains were growing.

  “Oh that… I may have been shot,” he replied nonchalantly.

  He tried to take a step forward, but fell to his knees. He had lost a lot of blood and was becoming weaker by the second.

  Nina eased him onto his back and tore his shirt open. She counted four different bullet holes in his chest and abdomen. He could see by the frown on her face, it was serious.

  “This Sucks! I thought I was invincible. Hell, that’s the way I felt.”

  Blood ran down both sides of his mouth as he spoke.

  “You big idiot, look at what you’ve done.”

  She ran her hands over his body, just barely skimming the surface.

  “We had some good times though, didn’t we?”

  “Stop talking, I need to concentrate.”

  He tried to sit up and began to cough, but Nina held him down. Blood bubbled out of his mouth. He struggled for air.

  “How could you be so careless? You have ruined my plans. I had our evening all laid out and it didn’t involve you getting shot.”

  He grabbed her hand and tried to talk, but the blood was too thick in his mouth.

  “Easy, lover,” she said as he tried to clear his throat. “Just try to relax.”

  “I’m scared,” he finally managed and gripped her arm tighter.

  “You should be; you are losing a lot of blood.”

  “I didn’t see it ending this way,” he said between gasps.

  “How else did you think it would be? Did you honestly see yourself passing quietly into the night?”

  Another round of coughing overcame him before he could answer her.

  “No. I knew from the moment I saw you that when your time came, you would go out in a blaze of glory with bullets flying and bodies lying crumpled at your feet,” she continued.

  “It should have been to the gasps of a crowd, not looking up at my own ceiling,” he whispered softly.

  She smiled down at him as she stroked his hair, before leaning in to kiss his lips. Slowly she rose to her knees; put both hands on his chest.

  “I love you, Nina.”

  “Sleep tight, my prince.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “But chief, I can’t do that.” Mark Sampson looked at his News Director as if she’d just stepped off the Mother ship.

  “Why not?” Sheila McCrae demanded.

  “Because, the man is a lunatic, that’s why. I don't know whether he will talk to me or punch me in the throat.”

  “So what? He has the inside track to one of the biggest stories of the decade.”

  “The man hates me,” Mark said as his eyes found the floor. “I have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting information out of him.”

  “That may have been true at one time, but things have changed, now haven’t they?”

  “How do you figure? I am quite sure I haven’t done anything that would endear me to him in the last few weeks. Hell, I haven’t even spoken to him since…” Mark paused and looked up at Sheila’s smiling face. “Oh, hell no.”

  “Why not? Was he cordial to you at the funeral?”

  “He gave me a handshake and a nod. I wouldn’t exactly call that cordial.”

  “It is better than the punch in the eye he wanted to give you before his partner died.”

  “He wasn’t just Tom’s partner. Jack was my friend.”

  “Friend, partner, whatever. The fact still remains. We need a new source of information. You lost our original and I want a new one.”

  “I lost the original? Didn’t you hear me? Jack was my friend. I’ve known him since high school.”

  “That’s very touching, but I have a job to do and you had better start being a little more cooperative.”

  “Are you really this fucking heartless?”

  “Hey, you have an opportunity and a n
eed to exploit it. If you can’t be professional enough to see that, I will find someone who is.”

  The threat hit home. He could think of a dozen people off the top of his head that would kill for a field job.

  “Look… I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises.”

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” She gestured to the phone on her desk.

  “You want me to call him right now?”

  “No time like the present.” She shrugged. “Besides, after all of your whining, I want to make sure you actually go through with it. We wouldn’t want to give you an opportunity to just tell me that you talked to him, when you really couldn’t keep enough strength in your backbone to pick up the god damned phone and dial the number.”

  He scowled at her. “Are you suggesting I would lie to you?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m telling you straight out that you would lie in a heartbeat if you thought it would get you out of something you didn’t want to do.”

  “Damn, Sheila, that hurts.”

  “You’ll get over it. Now, pick up the phone before you break that last nerve you’ve been dancing around on.”

  She knows me better than I care to admit. He looked at the phone on her desk and shook his head before pulling a cell-phone out of his pocket.

  “What? My phone isn’t good enough for you?”

  “I’m sure it’s fine, but I doubt he would answer a call from the station’s number. We stand a better shot of pulling this off if he at least recognizes the name.”

  “Do you have a speaker option on your cell?”

  “No, but I’ll be standing right here—”

  “Then use my phone. If you press star-five-seven first, it will show up as unidentified caller on his caller ID.”

  “Won’t he be able to tell that he is on a speaker phone?”

  “Tell him you’re calling from the office. Everybody uses speakerphone when they are at work.”

  Mark considered his options for a second and realized there wasn’t an excuse he could come up with to get himself out of the situation. He picked up the phone and dialed Tom Wiley’s number.

  Maybe he won’t be there, he thought as the phone rang for the fourth time.

  “Detective Wiley speaking.”

  So much for that glimmer of hope. He sighed in resignation.

  “Hi Tom, this is Mark Sampson.”

  “What can I do for you, Mark?”

  “I was just sitting here, thinking about Jack and wondering—”

  “Do you have me on speaker?”

  “Er, yes, but I am the only one in the office. If you spend as much time on the phone as I do, you develop an aversion to having the damn things in your ear,” he quickly explained, earning a laugh from Wiley.

  “Fair enough. So what do you want?”

  “As I was saying, I was just thinking about Jack and I wanted to know if you’d like to have a beer with me.”

  “What does having a beer together have to do with Jack?”

  “You are the only other person I can think of who knew him as well as I did. I just wanted someone to talk to who would understand how hard it is to deal with this loss.”

  “Let me ask you something. If I do agree to meet with you, will we only talk about Jack? Or will you use it as an opportunity to pump me for information?”

  “I… I… um—”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Look, I am really busy.” Tom paused, giving Mark another glimmer of hope. “I tell you what, since you were such a good friend to Jack, I am going to help you out though.”

  “That’s great, what time do you want to meet?”

  “Not that kind of help. I spend half my workday trying to ensure that the wrong information isn't leaked to the press. I am not actually going to set myself up for failure like that. I will however give you the name of the officer who is replacing Jack as my partner. She has been beefing up on all the specifics of The Puppeteer. Who knows, maybe she will be a fount of knowledge.”

  “I appreciate this, Tom.”

  “No problem. Her name is Anna Perez. Her office number is 555-1212 and her cell-phone—”

  “You’re giving me her cell-phone number?” Mark was stunned; the press rarely had this kind of access to an investigating officer.

  Tom laughed. “Hell, if you’ll stop interrupting me, I will even give you her home number.”

  “She must have already gotten on your bad side, huh?” Mark knew better than to think all this information was coming from the goodness of Tom’s heart.

  “I guess you could say that,” Tom replied, then finished passing on the numbers.

  “Okay, got it,” Mark said, writing down the last digit.

  “Oh, and Mark, just one more thing.”

  “Yeah, Tom?”

  “You can tell your boss she can start breathing again. It looks like you guys could still be in business.”

  “But, I already told you, I’m—”

  The line went dead before he had a chance to finish the sentence.

  Sheila stared at the phone in amazement. “How did he know I was here?”

  *****

  Anna stomped into Tom’s office. “You think you’re funny, don’t you? You’re just a regular fucking comedian.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” he feigned in ignorance.

  “I have been hounded incessantly by a Mr. Sampson. He called me at work, on my cell—he even called me at home.”

  “How tenacious of him.” Tom covered his mouth in an attempt to conceal his smile.

  “That’s one word for it.”

  “Well, you must be a lucky girl.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Mark is a bit of a local celebrity.”

  “So I gather. You want to hear the funniest part of all this?”

  He smiled as she sat across from him. “Nothing would please me more.”

  “He said he got my numbers from you.”

  Tom looked down, pretending to flip through a report. “Reporters. They will say anything to get a story.”

  “You are an awful liar.”

  “Apparently—”

  She kicked his desk, gaining his full attention. “Let’s get something straight. I hate reporters. They will destroy a case, even if it means the bad guy gets away, just to be the first one to air a story.”

  “I had no idea that you felt so strongly about it,” he said in his most apologetic voice.

  “Would it have mattered?”

  He laughed. “Probably not, but I may have hesitated a little longer.”

  “You’re a real asshole, but you already know that, don’t you?”

  “I believe I’ve heard something along those lines before.”

  “Of course you know. You have one hell of a payback coming your way.”

  “It may be hard for you to see from way over there, but I’m actually trembling with fear. If you listen close, you can probably hear my knees knocking under the desk.”

  Anna’s upper lip all but disappeared as she struggled to suppress her snarl.

  “If you knew me better, they probably would be,” she said and rose to leave.

  “Ah, don’t go away mad—”

  “I’m not going away. I’m going to work.” She turned to look at him over her shoulder as she spoke. “You can sit here and play games with yourself all day if you want to, but I have a killer to catch.”

  “Are you going to go get him right now?”

  “No, smartass, but I have a pretty good lead I want to follow up on.”

  Tom’s smile instantly vanished. “What lead?”

  “If you were a little nicer, I might be willing to share my information with you. As it is, my time is too precious to waste riding around with a partner who would rather ridicule me than help me solve this case.”

  “Yeah right.” He watched her face for any hint of a smile. “You’re bluffing just to get me to play nice. If there were any new leads, they would have come across my desk firs
t.”

  “Such arrogance.” She sighed. “Does the name Drew Thomas ring any bells?”

  “No, should it?” His face clouded with confusion.

  “Jack interviewed her before…” She let her voice trail off as she watched a wave of sorrow sweep across his face. “His report was in the stack of files Captain Duke gave me.”

  “Oh, I… I guess I didn’t get a chance to look at those yet,” he said softly.

  “You haven’t read it yet?” She was unable to mask the glee in her voice; she knew full well he hadn’t.

  “I— no, I just said I didn’t see the damn thing,” he answered harshly.

  “And yet, I’m sure it came across your desk.” She rubbed her chin as if she were in deep thought. “Still think I am bluffing?”

  “You have my word as a gentleman—” At that point, he had to wait for her to stop laughing before he could continue. “You have my word. I will lay off on the ridicule for the rest of the day.”

  “Just today?”

  “Baby steps, Anna. These things have to be accomplished in baby steps.”

  “Are you up for a road trip?”

  Tom rose from behind his desk. “Where to?”

  “Ms. Thomas had some very interesting things to say in her interview.”

  “Do tell.”

  “Apparently, she and Dr. Pearlman engaged in a quite the sordid little affair.”

  “But I thought Jack said she was one of his patients.”

  “Do you really think a Doctor who kills in his off time would have any qualms about sleeping with one of his patients?”

  “I see your point.” Tom nodded and followed her down the hall. “Does that mean she was able to provide us with a DNA sample?”

  “Don’t be an ass.” She shot him a look of disdain. “The relationship ended a couple of years ago.”

  Tom stopped dead in his tracks. “Are you jerking me around here? If she hasn’t seen him in two years, how could she possibly have any information on his current whereabouts?”

  “It is really quite simple.” She resumed her stride without elaborating.

  “Come on, spill,” he urged, hurrying to catch up with her.

  “During their romp, he often took her on weekend getaways.”

  “You have the name of a resort he frequented two years ago?”

  “Stay with me, Tom.” She spoke to him as she would a child. “She gave us an address.”