The Dance

by James Goodman

  “I think we should call this—”

  Before she could finish the sentence, Tom pushed the door open.

  Anna flinched as the door creaked. They both held their breath, listening for footsteps. When none came, they entered the house. To their left was a staircase; to their right was a long hallway that looked as if it might lead to the room they had checked from the backside of the house.

  Tom signaled for Anna to check out the living room as he moved towards the stairs.

  “It isn’t wise to split up yet,” she cautioned in a whisper.

  “Why, are you scared?” He grinned at her.

  She rolled her eyes. “No, I’m just not stupid.”

  “We could cover more ground if we split up.”

  “We could give him a chance to take us from behind if we aren’t watching each others backs,” she pressed.

  Tom was prepared to retort, when a moan followed by a muffled voice from upstairs cut him short. They could hear the sounds of a struggle coming from one of the upper rooms.

  “We caught him in the act,” Tom whispered.

  They slid up the stairs as quietly as possible. Three closed doors faced them at the top. There was a shirt, a sandal and a pair of jeans strewn in the hallway.

  Which door? Anna mouthed to him silently.

  The sound of something smacking against the wall narrowed the guesswork considerably.

  “I’ll take the prize behind door number three.” Tom grunted, lowering his shoulder in the direction of the door at the end of the hall.

  He was nearly at a full sprint by the time shoulder and wood collided. It splintered at the knob and burst open, dumping Tom into the middle of the room with his weapon drawn.

  “Get away from her, you son of a bitch!”

  “Who the fuck are you?” the man screamed as he rolled off the bed.

  The woman, who was moaning only moments before, was screaming now. She was frightened, not by The Puppeteer, but by the maniac who just barreled into the room.

  “Nice collar.” Anna watched the young woman scrambling to find something to cover her naked body.

  “We didn’t— I didn’t— How did—?” the man on the floor stammered, but failed to complete a sentence.

  “Easy, son, keep those hands where I can see them,” Tom barked.

  “Perhaps he could keep them in plain view and still manage to salvage a little dignity.” Anna snorted. “Very little.”

  “What’s your name?” Tom demanded, his weapon still trained on the suspect.

  “D… D… Dan… Dan Meyers, sir.”

  “Wh… wh… what are you doing here?” Tom mimicked the young man’s stutter.

  Anna laughed. “I think that’s a no-brainer, Tom.”

  “I— I—,” was all Dan could manage.

  “Breaking and Entering is a felony, boy. What were you thinking?”

  “I— I—,” he repeated.

  “You sound like a broken tape player I used to have.” Tom laughed sadistically. “Do you want to know how I used to make it work?”

  Dan shook his head.

  “I would give it a nice hard smack,” Tom explained, holding his free hand up for emphasis.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Anna spun on the girl as she bolted for the door.

  “To get my pants,” she answered sheepishly.

  “I am only going to ask you one more time—”

  “It’s her uncle’s house.” he interrupted, pointing at his girlfriend.

  “Shut up and listen,” Tom snarled. “You will answer my questions to the best of your ability and you had better make me believe your answers or…”

  “Or what?” Dan finally asked when Tom just stared at him.

  “Or I will march your naked ass into the station, put you into a holding cell for a few hours with some other less than desirables, and then ask the questions again.” Tom gave him a wink. “Do we understand one another?”

  “Yes, sir.” He nodded, pulling his knees up to his chest.

  “Good, now… how long have you been coming to this house?”

  “Well, I can think of better ways to have spent my morning,” Tom huffed as they trudged back to the car.

  “Yeah, it would have been better if he had actually been there, but it was still productive,” Anna said defensively.

  “Sure, it was very productive. I nearly shot a kid for having sex with his girlfriend.”

  “No, you nearly shot a man who had gained unlawful entry into a house which happened to be an alternate residence for a known serial killer.”

  “When you put it like that—”

  “It sounds less like a near tragedy and more like a couple of detectives doing their job?”

  “Yeah, something like that.” He smiled at her.

  Tom fell silent as they reached the car.

  “You know, the look of disappointment on your face almost makes me feel sorry for you,” she said. “Almost.”

  When he didn’t offer a response, Anna turned the car around and started the long journey back to the station.

  What was I thinking? Tom chastised himself. I just took my partner and charged into that house without even once considering the consequences. We didn’t call for backup. We burst right in like Rambo and Rambette. What if he WAS in there? What if it had been a trap? God damn it, man, didn’t you already see one house explode while chasing this guy?

  He let out a heavy sigh as he leaned back into the headrest. “Did you get anything good out of the niece while I was talking to D-D-Danny boy?” Tom smiled at the thought of how he made the boy stutter.

  “Teresa?” She began without taking her eyes from the road. “Not really, she just said her uncle had told her she could use the house anytime she wanted.”

  “Then why did they have to break in?”

  “She mentioned that he used to hide a key for her in one of those fake rocks, but it wasn’t there.”

  “I don’t suppose she had any idea where Dr. Pearlman might be hiding.”

  “Don’t you think I would have told you if she did?”

  “When was the last time she saw him?”

  “She said it had been a couple of years. They had fought the last time they spoke and she figured he was still mad at her.”

  “Didn’t she see his name and picture all over the news?”

  “I am sure she was ashamed to be associated with him.” She cast a sideways glance at him. “Wouldn’t you be?”

  “Even still, an anonymous call wouldn’t have caused her any more shame.”

  “What did you want her to do, call us up to say that she doesn’t know anything, but she is related to him?”

  “I guess I can see your point,” Tom relented. “I’m just aggravated. It felt like we were so close and now we’re right back where we started.”

  “How long have you been a detective, Tom?”

  He was taken aback by the question. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “It’s just that you sound like this is the first time you’ve chased down a clue that led to a dead end.”

  “Hell, that’s just part of the job. It’s an investigation, not a deer hunt on a 40 acre reserve.”

  “Then why are you sitting there with the same look on your face I’m sure you wore on prom night?”

  “What, you’re too cool to be disappointed when things don’t go your way?”

  “No, I just know better than to take this so personally. If you can’t maintain a certain amount of distance from your case, you end up…” her voice trailed off before she could finish the thought.

  “End up like what?” Tom glared at her. “Like me?”

  “You end up burned out and alone,” she said after a moment’s silence. “If you let the job consume you, then there isn’t any room for anyone else in your life.”

  “What do you know about my life?”

  “Look, it’s obvious you are very passionate about being on the job. You love chasing down clues an
d cuffing the bad guys. You’ve been on this case for a long time. How long can a love go unreciprocated before it turns to hate? Yet, I am willing to bet it isn’t in you to hate the job, so you look elsewhere to unload your rage. Once you have alienated everyone around you, there is no one left to hate but yourself.”

  “Of all the…” Tom started to give her a good tongue-lashing, but thought better of it.

  He turned his gaze back out the passenger window, letting her words sink in. He thought of his ex, his kids, the friends who had come and gone. Am I really all alone?

  “How can you expect to stick with a job like this, if you don’t care?” he asked without turning away from the window.

  “I never said I didn’t care. My point is, we’re going to have hurdles catching this guy and I need to feel comfortable that you’re going to be able to handle the tough breaks.”

  “Lady, I have been doing this job since before you wore your first training bra.”

  “I am not asking whether or not you were a good detective; your record speaks for itself. I want to know if I can count on you if we get into a pinch.”

  Tom’s lips curled as his anger boiled up. Who the hell does she think she is? It was all he could do not to tell her where to stick her condescending attitude. He let a few scenarios play out in his mind. None of them could persuade him to rebuke her, because deep down, he knew she had reason to be concerned.

  Hell, I have already led one partner to the slaughter. She just wants to make sure that she doesn't share for the same fate.

  Aloud he said, “Yeah, you can count on me.”

  “That’s all I wanted to know.” She smiled at him.

  As he returned her smile, Tom wondered if the storm had finally passed.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Kyle became aware of himself. It seemed like such an odd thing to say, but the process was so gradual, that its finale deserved to be recognized. His eyes were closed, but he could see light through his eyelids.

  His memories of the gun shot wounds flooded in, causing him to bolt upright. He yanked the covers off and threw them to the floor. He quickly patted himself down, searching for signs of injury. His skin was smooth, unmarked by bullets or fire. But, I WAS on fire. Was it all just a dream? His eyes widened as other memories flooded his mind. He cast a quick glance at his bed to verify he hadn’t defiled it yet again.

  “Nina,” he called out, but received no answer.

  Rising from the bed, he searched the house, calling her name. She was nowhere to be found.

  “Where the hell did she go?” He checked the garage, making sure the car was still parked safely in its spot. “Does she even know how to drive?”

  She had become such a tremendous part of his life, he couldn’t imagine leaving the house without her.

  The smell of his body finally registered in his brain as he sat back on his bed.

  Me thinks I do offend.

  “Shower, shave and get some coffee,” he muttered to himself, thinking of ways to pass the time while he waited for Nina.

  An hour later, he sat in the living room, utterly dejected. The coffee had cleared the lingering cobwebs from his mind, but did nothing to improve his mood. Only Nina’s tender touch would bring him out of his funk.

  “Fuck it.” He pushed away from the table. “She will be here when she gets here. Sitting here, worrying about where she is, isn’t going to make it happen any quicker.”

  He grabbed his coffee cup and strolled around the living room. He stood at the edge of the room looking back and forth between the recliner and the couch. Finally settling on the recliner, he sat his cup on the stand before flopping into the chair with a grunt. He reached for the TV remote, but stopped short when he caught sight of an old copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams.

  “I could use a few laughs,” he muttered aloud.

  He lost himself in the world of Vogons and Babel Fish as he followed Arthur Dent through his adventures. His finger moved down the page, keeping his place as he devoured the words.

  The smell of rotting eggs assaulted his nostrils.

  He was about to shut the book and go investigate the source of the odor when he felt pressure on the back of his chair. Two hands slid down either side of his head and onto his shoulders.

  “Nina, where have you been?” He reached up to meet one of the hands as they made their way to his chest. “What did you do to your…” His voice trailed off when he saw why the hand felt so rough.

  It didn’t belong to Nina.

  It was a thin hand, complete with fingers that seemed too long to be real. The fingernails alone were the length of Kyle’s pinky. Cloudy and mottled, more black than anything else, but still a mix of colors that seemed to move beneath the nail surface.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” a gravely voice spoke into his hair on fetid breath that oozed down to Kyle’s ears.

  Kyle couldn’t decide whether the voice was masculine or feminine, but he was sure he didn’t like the way it made the goose bumps erupt across his body. He tried to jump from his chair, but to no avail; the hands held him firmly in place.

  “Where is your keeper?”

  Kyle tried to turn to face his visitor. Before his neck could swivel, he received a blow to the top of the head that had him seeing stars. He could still feel both hands on his shoulders so he wasn’t sure what struck him.

  “You are not worthy to gaze upon my beauty, changeling,” it growled down at him.

  “What did you hit me with?” Kyle asked, earning him another blow to the head.

  “The questions are mine to ask. You are merely here to answer them.”

  What’s happening? Have I really lost my mind this time?

  “Where is your keeper?” it repeated.

  “What keeper? I serve no man.”

  “Who said anything about a man?” It laughed, a deep reverberating sound that shook its entire body. “Who has marked you? Perhaps you would understand if I referred to her as a mistress—”

  “You mean Nina? She’s not my mistress. She’s my girlfriend.” He laughed at the thought of it until another cuff to his scalp silenced him.

  “Your insolence is neither humorous nor warranted. You shouldn’t be here. This isn’t the time and definitely not the place.”

  “This is my house. You’re the one that shouldn’t be here.” He braced himself for the pain he was sure would come. It didn’t.

  “Nina always did have a flare for attracting the incredibly dense,” it murmured after a heavy sigh.

  “You know her?”

  This time, when the pain ebbed, he could feel blood trickle from his nose.

  “You were warned not to question me, changeling.”

  “What if I pose my questions in the form of an answer?” Kyle doubted he would live through the encounter and decided to go out with a little pride.

  Those hideous hands leapt to either side of Kyle’s face in a blur of speed, squeezing his head.

  “Your lack of respect is indicative of your ignorance. You have no knowledge of the power in the being you choose to insult.”

  Kyle’s head felt as if it would explode. He fought for breath, but the pain was so intense, his body was shutting down.

  “Stand down, Eramael. He belongs to me.” Nina materialized in the middle of the room.

  “It’s funny, Nina. He thinks you two are a couple,” the being called Eramael grumbled.

  She batted her eyes at him. “Does that bother you, old friend?”

  “No, what bothers me is what you are doing with him.”

  “That is none of your business. Now, release him.” She stepped closer.

  “Oh, but it is my business. I can see what you are planning and I won’t allow it.”

  “Release him or else,” she snarled.

  “I can not allow you do this, Nina. This is not how it was supposed to be. You know what the consequences of your actions will be.”

  “You can’t stop me. It has a
lready begun.”

  “Then I will end it.” He increased the pressure on Kyle’s head.

  Nina’s hands shot in front of her with the fingers splayed out, pointing towards the ceiling. The air between them danced and he heard Eramael grimaced in pain.

  “The changeling must die before—”

  Nina began to chant, interrupting the statement. The air no longer danced, it glowed.

  “Don’t make me kill you, Eramael,” she warned.

  “You must be stopped,” Eramael insisted.

  Kyle saw smoke gather around his face, as if it radiated from Eramael’s skin.

  “So be it.” Nina clenched her teeth and focused all of her energy towards destruction.

  “Enough,” Eramael yelled, releasing his grip from Kyle’s head. “This is far from over.”

  She leapt through the air, over the chair, but passed through nothing but dust.

  *****

  “Good morning, lover,” Nina cooed, from the side of Kyle’s bed. “I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up.”

  “How long was I asleep this time?” Kyle instinctively checked his sheets.

  She doubted he would ever forget the image of himself sleeping in his own filth. “Only about twelve hours, not too long.”

  “I had the strangest dream.” His face creased as he struggled to recall the details.

  “That’s the funny thing about dreams. They can almost seem real if not for their outlandish content.”

  Kyle cocked his head as he looked up at her. “Why would you say it seemed real? I haven’t even told you what it was yet.”

  Nina struggled to maintain a calm façade. He had caught her off guard with the question. Rather than answer, she reached out and caressed his face.

  “Why don’t you tell me about it then,” she urged as she lay beside him.

  “It was… I’m not sure,” he admitted as his thoughts flitted away.

  “I guess it wasn’t anything important then.” She hoped he would just let it go.

  “I just remember these hands on me, hurting me.”

  “It was just a dream, lover. Don’t worry yourself with the details. You’re awake now.”

  “He kept hitting me, but his hands never moved. He was hitting me with something hard, something…”