“Are you saying you think Madame Leona had something to do with Paulie’s death?” Hank shook her head.
“They had a fight. It’s the only idea we do have.”
“But why, Mel, why would Madame Leona want to kill Pauline McMasters? Because she quit the dance troupe?” Hank kept shaking her head.
“It does sound ridiculous when you put it that way.” How could Melanie explain any of this to Hank? She shrugged. “It’s just a feeling we have.”
“What are you going to do?” Hank asked. “What can I do?”
“We don’t have much of a plan. And I can’t think of anything specific, Hank.” Melanie reached for a slice of the pizza the waiter set in front of her. “All I can do is keep my eyes and ears open. Once I get a clue that seems promising, I’ll follow up on it.”
“You could drop Paulie’s name into the conversation every chance you get,” Seth suggested. “Watch how people react.”
“I think you should find out anything you can about this Madame Leona’s background,” Bryan said. “Where did she come from? Where did she teach before this? And it makes sense to find out where Ilene Greenway—is that her name, the woman who sold the school abruptly?—is now and talk to her. There are things that Seth and I can do while you’re on the inside.”
“Yeah, Bryan, we can’t let the female spies outdo us,” Seth quipped. “Maybe Bryan and I can read the police report on Paulie’s accident. Let’s get every detail they have. We might even talk to the officers and see if there’s anything they’ll say off the cuff.”
After a few more ideas, they had some plans. Talking and making an agenda helped everyone calm down. They settled to eating everything in sight, including spumoni for dessert.
Hank pushed her dish away. “Promise me we won’t have too many meetings over dinner. I’ll probably be moved to the hippo ballet sequence now.” She seemed to have gotten over her shock of hearing their idea that Paulie might have been murdered. Or, what was more likely, Hank wasn’t one to stay serious for very long.
Melanie took her hand as they headed for the car, letting the guys settle the food bill. “You don’t have to believe all this, Hank—I’m still not sure I do. But promise me you’ll help me if you can.”
“I will, Melanie, believe me, I will. Just tell me what you want me to do. I’ll listen, too. And nothing can stop me from looking on Madame L. or the troupe through different eyes.”
“I hope I haven’t spoiled the dancing for you.”
“No way. Just spiced it up a bit.” Hank turned to Seth and Bryan who hurried up behind them. “I live near here, guys. Can you drop me at home?”
“I’d planned to let you find a dog sled,” Seth teased, “but if you insist. Then you’ll be in my debt.”
“I’ll risk it.” Hank continued her easy bantering with Seth, getting into the front seat again.
“Hey, Seth, have you forgotten this is my car? I say drive our new spy home.” Bryan put his arm around Melanie.
Melanie was content to listen and snuggle close to Bryan in the back seat. She didn’t feel quite so alone now.
After delivering Hank, Seth headed for his house. Then Bryan and Melanie got in the front seat of the old Camaro, and Bryan took her home. He walked her to the door, but they didn’t linger in the cold and blowing snow. His kiss was warm, though, and he held her that extra minute that said if they were together, not much else mattered.
She stood just inside the door for a few seconds, enjoying the memory of Bryan’s lips on hers. She knew he loved her. She knew he would stick by her if she got herself into a mess, looking into Paulie’s death. Knowing that gave her the strength to do it.
She wanted to go straight to her room, to savor the warmth she felt inside. To remember the tryouts and the joy she felt at getting a part in the ballet. She felt she didn’t really have anything to lose. If she discovered that Madame Leona was on the up and up, that Paulie’s death really had been an accident, then she’d have the fun of being in the ballet. How could she have thought of quitting? She loved her dancing. She’d wanted to be in the ballet all along.
“Melanie, is that you? Come in here. Why are you standing in the hall? Did you get the part? Did you get into Madame Leona’s class? Tell me about it.”
Melanie sighed and walked slowly into the small, comfortable living room. Her mother lay on the couch, an afghan pulled over her legs. A stack of romance novels spilled on the rug beside her. Katherine Clark sat up, her long red hair tousled, as if she’d alternately read and slept the evening away.
Melanie’s mother had also been an aspiring dancer, just like her best friend, Ilene Greenway. Ilene had danced until she injured an ankle, then opened the school in Bellponte. But Mom had given up her career early on for marriage and a family, a sacrifice she didn’t often let Melanie forget, even though that had been her mom’s choice.
“Hi, Mom.” Melanie bent to kiss her mother lightly. Then she flopped into an overstuffed chair, pulling her feet from her boots and curling her legs up underneath her.
“You got it, didn’t you?” Katherine’s face was eager for the news. Just as she lived a part of her life vicariously through her romances, she lived her abandoned dance career through Melanie. “I knew you could.”
Melanie prayed her mother would never have to find out she had two reasons for getting into Madame Leona’s exclusive troupe.
“Yes, Mom. I was wonderful. I’ve never danced so well. I was nervous at first, but I met a girl who helped me relax and get over my jitters. I think we’re going to be friends.” Melanie thought about Hank. She liked her friendly, carefree attitude. She did think she’d made a new friend. And—she hoped she’d made the right decision to trust Hank.
“That’s fine, but remember you don’t have much time for friends and socializing with everyone who comes along.”
“She’s not just someone who came along.” Melanie jumped to defend Hank. “She’s a dancer. She’s serious about her career, too. I need a girl friend, Mom. I—I’ve been lonely.” Melanie didn’t know that until she said it.
She missed Paulie terribly. She and Paulie had been friends for a long time. They had started dance together. Taking dance, seeing all the dance movies over and over, and living their dreams had taken up most of their lives. School was just something they did because it was expected of them.
Melanie didn’t know why she’d shared the confidence about needing friends with her mother. She told her mother only what she had to, not her real feelings, as a rule. It was a way of defending herself. Sometimes Melanie felt Katherine would gobble her up, take over her life if she could.
Melanie knew her greatest weakness was a lack of confidence in herself. Knowing it, acknowledging it, had helped her work on improving her self-image. Bryan didn’t have any idea how tough it had been to decide to look into Paulie’s death. It was certainly something she wanted to do, something she felt she had to do, but it had taken all the strength she could muster to say “I’ll do this.”
Mom didn’t know how much surrounding herself with strong people like Seth and Bryan helped. Her mother had made the big decisions for her all her life. Bryan was strong. She’d seen that the minute she met him. It was one of the things that had drawn her to him. Melanie usually followed his lead. He really didn’t want her to get into the ballet troupe. She realized that this was the first time she’d gone against his wishes since she’d met him.
Hank had confidence to burn. She’d certainly given some of it to Melanie today. Melanie felt she could gain by taking Madame Leona as a role model, too. Well, only if she discovered the woman was innocent of any wrongdoing in Paulie’s death. Leona had obviously given her whole life to dance.
“I don’t know how you’ve had time to be lonely, Melanie.” Katherine cut into Melanie’s soul searching. “You spend a lot of time with that boy—against my better judgement. You should listen to me. I don’t want you making the same mistake I did.”
“Falling in love couldn�
�t be too big a mistake, Mom.” Sometimes Melanie tried to reason with her mother. But she knew better. Katherine had an answer or an excuse for everything Melanie said.
“I just thought I was in love. I was so young. I didn’t have good sense. And my mother didn’t care what I did.”
Melanie had a fleeting thought that it would be a relief to have a mother who didn’t care what she did, who didn’t have to share every moment of her life.
“If you hadn’t gotten married, you wouldn’t have a daughter.” Melanie teased softly, even though her mother had assured her she never considered having an abortion.
“You’re the only good thing that came from that disastrous relationship. And, and …”
Melanie knew her mother didn’t think having a baby was a mistake, too, but she did harbor a lot of regrets about not continuing to dance. She couldn’t forget them, put them behind her. Her mother loved her, almost too much, Melanie felt. It was difficult being a person’s only source of happiness.
“Hey, what are we doing talking about me?” Her mom returned to the present. “I want to know every detail of the tryouts. Dance it for me. Right now.”
“Oh, Mom, I’m tired. I don’t want to dance. It was the Tchaikovsky. You know it. Swan Lake. Everyone knows it. It’s almost a cliché for ballet dancers.”
Quickly she detailed the afternoon for her mother, telling her about Frau Voska, making her mother laugh. About Madame Leona, how beautiful she was, how warm, once she’d accepted Melanie. “And she gave me this, Mother.” Melanie pulled the medallion from under her sweater and showed it to her mother.
“How—how unusual. What a strange thing to do. But exotic. Madame Leona is so exotic.” Mom laughed. “She gave it to you to keep? It looks expensive.”
“I don’t think she means for us to keep them. All seven of the girls in the ballet have them. We’re just wearing them while we’re in the troupe.”
“I never heard of such a thing. But it’s a nice idea. Girls in a troupe bond together. I guess this is a symbol of your being Madame Leona’s girls. That has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it, Melanie? Madame Leona’s dancers. Oh, it’s what I’ve dreamed of.
“When I first put you in Ilene Greenway’s class, I didn’t think there could be a better mentor for you in all of New York. I couldn’t believe it when she sold out to Madame Leona. I was so angry with her, and I’m even more perturbed that she left without telling me. But now I realize it was a stroke of luck. Leona Turva is ten times the teacher Ilene was. Forgive me, Ilene, wherever you are. But it’s the truth. I’m so relieved that you get to study under her. Just don’t forget you have a mother here who cares about you, too.” Melanie’s mother reached for the necklace and looked at it more closely.
“Oh, Mom. I’m not going to forget you.” Was her mother going to be jealous of her now? If she lived to be a hundred, she’d never understand her mother. She said she wanted the best for Melanie, then she worried when Melanie achieved something. She begged Mel to do something—her mother had been bugging Melanie to give the exclusive troupe another try for some time—and now it seemed she was going to be jealous of Melanie’s time. Wouldn’t her mother flip out if she knew Melanie’s primary motivation for getting in the ballet troupe wasn’t to dance?
Melanie unclasped the necklace and handed it to her mother so she could see it better. She curled tighter in the chair and let her mind wander through the day. Suddenly she felt very tired, drained of all energy. She hadn’t realized it until now.
“I’m tired, Mom. It’s been a big day. I’m going up to bed.”
“Go get some orange juice and take some vitamin C, Melanie. You can’t let yourself get run down. Dancing in the troupe may be too much if you don’t give up something else. You can give up show choir. You don’t need to do that. And in my opinion, you can give up that boy. Or at least not see him so much. He’ll understand. If he cares about you at all, he’ll want you to have your activities. I’ll bet he has his.”
“He does, Mother. He’s a wrestler, and he’s in show choir. He’s a very nice guy. I’m not going to give up going with him. Don’t ask me to.” Melanie made her voice firm as she stood and gathered enough energy to get to her room.
Placing the medallion on her dresser, she stared at it. It almost seemed alive, with the grotesque circle of beasts grasping the stone. Why had she kept wearing the ugly thing? The stone, red now, seemed to glow. The ugly gargoyle faces stared at her.
Almost in a trance, she stripped off her jeans and sweater, pulled on her nightgown, snuggled into the bed, and fell asleep instantly.
five
And the demon Ramuel taunted her but she ignored his taunts and danced.
WHETHER IT WAS the bug going around school or just dumb luck, Melanie felt terrible by Friday. Bryan had taken her home from school and deposited her on the sofa. Her throat was sore, she was coughing, and she felt hot, as if she had a fever.
“Stay right here,” Bryan had ordered. “Get some rest. I’ll cancel our reservations for tonight. And I know you don’t want my opinion on this, but forget tonight’s ballet class. They can dance without you for one rehearsal.”
“You’re probably right.” Melanie had taken the easy route, not wanting to argue with Bryan, but she knew she couldn’t miss rehearsal. Every minute she was at the studio there was the possibility of finding out something about Paulie.
And there was so little time until the recital and the show. She couldn’t think of their shortened version of two ballets as a recital. This was a performance. She was sure Madame Leona was doing it to show off her star dancers and perhaps to lure more pupils to her school. So she wanted it perfect. And as long as Melanie was a part of the troupe, she wanted to dance well, too.
Melanie sank back on the couch gratefully, glad her mother wasn’t home from work, then fell asleep. When she woke the light outside the windows was dim. What time was it? She glanced at her watch—three o’clock. Oh no! Quickly she called a cab. She didn’t feel much better, but if Madame Leona had enough confidence in her to make her part of the troupe, she should certainly not let a cold keep her from practice.
The taxi took forever to get to her house. When she got to the Lafayette, she paid the cabbie, then dashed into the theater. Once downstairs, she paused in front of the studio door. She sneezed, wiped her nose with a bunch of Kleenex, then opened the door. She hoped, prayed, that Leona’s watchdog wouldn’t be on duty. No Frau Voska. Thank you, heavenly stars, she thought.
Hank was at the bars with Laurie, Jean, Anne, and Janell, the last two girls still strangers to her, even though they’d been together for a week now. They hadn’t been friendly, left immediately after rehearsal. Melanie had made no overtures to get acquainted.
Jean Whitney, nearest the door, saw her first. “Well, the teacher’s pet, here at last.” Jean tossed the wisecrack over her left shoulder to Laurie, but Melanie had no trouble hearing it. She ignored the greeting.
Hank stopped stretching and hurried over to her.
“Hi, Hank.” Melanie started to cough. Just speaking irritated her throat.
“You don’t sound so hot.” Hank put her hand to Melanie’s forehead. It felt wonderfully cool. “You’ve got the crud, haven’t you?”
Before Melanie could answer, Madame Leona appeared beside Hank. Melanie hadn’t heard her approaching in her soft slippers.
She stood, tall, majestic, and beautiful, as usual. “You’re late, Melanie. But now that you’re here, change quickly.” As soon as she’d spoken to Melanie, smiling—Melanie had expected her to be angry—she frowned at Hank.
The unspoken reprimand that Hank had broken warm-ups to speak to Melanie didn’t stop Hank from speaking. “Melanie’s sick, Madame Leona. She probably shouldn’t be here.”
“Sorry, Madame Leona.” Melanie apologized for being late, not for being sick. She wished Hank hadn’t mentioned it. She didn’t need Hank taking up for her. “It’s just a cold. I went home from school and fell asleep. I called
a cab, but it was slow picking me up and even slower getting here. It’s still snowing and the streets are awful. But I can dance. I want to dance.”
Madame Leona put a hand to Melanie’s cheek, softly brushing aside her hair. “You do feel hot. Go and change. I’ll have something for you that I think will help.”
Melanie headed for the dressing room. On the way she looked back at Hank. She didn’t want Hank to think she didn’t appreciate her concern, but now that she was here, she was certainly going to rehearse. Hank had gone back to the bar without a wave. Melanie could smooth over any bad feelings later.
Frau Voska sat “guarding” the dressing room instead of the front door. In her beefy arms she held Murmur, the house cat, creating an incongruous picture. Melanie smiled, but Voska’s eyes held a stern “you’re late” echo of Madame Leona’s words.
She changed quickly, sneezed twice, then walked back onto the varnished wood floor of the studio. How was she going to dance with a Kleenex to her nose?
She was startled to find Hank and Madame Leona by the tape deck in the middle of an argument. Melanie joined the loose circle of girls around the two. The audience included all but Nicol. Nicol stood beside Leona as if taking her side. Glancing around, Melanie spotted Frau Voska standing expressionless by the office door. She was still holding Murmur in her arms. The cat cuddled, and Melanie could imagine its contented purrs.
“Actually, Madame Leona, my body does what I want it to do, jewelry or not.” Hank’s hands, balled into fists, were placed on her hips. “Tchaikovsky won’t turn in his grave if I rehearse without the neck armor.”
Melanie was frozen on the spot. This was new. This was scary. The others seemed also suspended in space. Was this the first time anyone had dared defy Madame Leona?
“Hannah … Hannah.” Madame Leona sighed, but seemed not the least bit angry or tossed off-balance. “Is it so much?”
Melanie shot a glance at Hank. There was a painful pause before Hank returned it, looking quickly at Melanie with no expression that might say, “help” or “my fight” or “I’m doing fine.” Just a quick, nervous glance.
The Dance Page 4
