The Dance

by Barbara Steiner

  “Try gourmet hors d’oeuvres.” Hank moved over so Seth could slip into the booth beside her. “Let’s see, I remember you,” she teased him. “You’re the computer whiz that speaks fluent Hebrew. Right?”

  “What have you been telling this girl?” asked Seth, looking at Melanie.

  “I’ll swear, Scouts’ Honor, I didn’t say a word, Seth. You know your reputation precedes you.”

  “I got it through the grapevine,” Hank sang. “But, hey, it’s okay. I’m not prejudiced against geniuses. Just don’t ask me to compete. I’m a mental dweeb.” Hank grinned. “But I’m a good cook.”

  “Do you like tofu?” asked Seth, casually slipping his arm behind Hank on the plastic seat back.

  “Tofu? You have to be kidding. Are you into healthy eating? You know, Mel, I’ve never had a successful blind date. I don’t know why I said I’d do this.” Hank giggled as she scanned the menu.

  They all did the same, then got quiet—too quiet. All their teasing and bantering had been a cover for what they really needed to talk about.

  “What did you find out at that party?” Bryan glanced at Hank, then at Melanie.

  “We found out that someone has a lot of money,” Hank volunteered. “Those girls don’t live in Seaton Arms on a dance teacher’s salary.”

  “Bryan, you should have seen the tapestries that Madame Leona has made. They look just like the ones I’ve seen in medieval museums and Shakespeare movies.”

  “That doesn’t tell you anything, except that she’s talented, does it?”

  “No, I guess not, but it surprised me. I mean, there were dozens. You don’t weave those things overnight. It would take me a hundred years to do one. But they were gorgeous.”

  “Tell him about that tome, Melanie. The book of the dead.”

  They stopped to order combination plates of burritos, tacos, and chili rellenos, and since they’d scarfed up the salsa and chips while they were talking, a replenishment of the appetizer.

  “Book of the dead?” Seth raised his eyebrows and ran his hand through his thick, curly hair.

  “Well, it smelled dead. So you could call it that.”

  “It was strange, Bryan. It was huge, bigger than a family Bible, maybe like the Bible a preacher uses on a pulpit. What was it called, Hank?”

  “The Book of Ra—Raziel, is that right?”

  “Raziel? What was in it?” asked Seth.

  “Who knows? The text looked like Arabic or Sanskrit, lots of wiggles and squiggles. We didn’t have time to look at the whole thing, but it has to be an antique, maybe worth a lot of money.”

  “Madame Leona probably bought it through her store connections.” Bryan shrugged.

  “Maybe so; it looked like something that would be worth a lot.” Melanie sipped the last of her coffee. “What I’d really like to know is what it was doing in those three girls’ apartment stuffed in a drawer in the bathroom.”

  “A lot of people keep reading material in the bathroom.” Seth grinned. “I used to practice my Hebrew while I showered.”

  “That figures. I’ll bet you’re a time efficiency expert.” Hank smiled at Seth. She would be good for him, Melanie thought. Despite his continuous banter, he was much too serious.

  “So all you really know so far, Mel,” Bryan said, “is that Madame Leona is independently wealthy, weaves beautiful tapestries, collects old books and jewelry, and is a very strong dance teacher. See how hard playing detective is?” He hugged her close. “And you have to give up being with friends to do it. Maybe it’s time to quit.”

  Hank looked at Melanie, serious for a second. Melanie shrugged. “We’ll see. I knew this would be a fishing expedition. Maybe I’ll hook the big one yet.”

  “Well, Seth learned a little bit tonight,” Bryan said. “You tell them, Seth.”

  “I called a friend of my uncle. An antique dealer. Just out of curiosity. I thought if those medallions are real, they belong in a museum.”

  “What did he say?” Melanie agreed with Seth.

  “Alexandrite is expensive. Hard to get. Not commonly used in jewelry any more. A really big piece belongs in a museum. And when I described your two necklaces, he was fascinated, wanted to see them.”

  “I don’t know how we’d do that.” Hank fingered her medallion, then looped it over her head and put it in her purse. “Madame L. has a heart attack if we aren’t wearing them.”

  “How would she know? We’d get them back to you in time for rehearsal.”

  “Let me think about it.” Melanie took off her own necklace and looked at it again. Then, quickly, she put it back on; afraid not to wear it, afraid she’d lose it. What the guys wanted to do was risky. Leona would have a heart attack if they lost one.

  They spent an hour eating and trading smart remarks. Hank and Seth kept Melanie and Bryan laughing so much they could hardly eat. But the evening did its work on Melanie. She was able to relax and put aside her thoughts about Paulie and murder and dancing and Madame Leona. Doing so made her realize how tense she’d been when she and Hank left “the three witches’” party.

  “What will you do now, Melanie? Have you hit a dead end?” Bryan said as he took Melanie home. Hank had agreed to drop Seth off, winking at Melanie.

  “No, I’ve thought of one person I need to talk to. I don’t know how much she knows, but she might supply a few more pieces for the puzzle. Let’s pick up Seth and Hank tomorrow and talk to Julie Pedigren. She may have noticed something we’ve missed.”

  Bryan agreed as he took Melanie to her door. He continued the thought. “I missed you tonight, Mel. I’m glad you called us. And Seth likes Hank.”

  “They’re good for each other,” Melanie agreed. “Let’s double date often.”

  “Just so I can take you home last.” Bryan pulled Melanie close and kissed her. “You’re my favorite detective.”

  “Thanks for forgiving me for breaking our date tonight.” Melanie returned his kiss.

  “Who said I’d forgiven you? Your punishment is to date me the rest of the year.”

  “I can handle that.” Melanie laughed softly.

  They had one more day of school, the choir show Friday night, and then the holidays. She could hardly wait.

  A part of her wished she could forget Madame Leona, the dance school, this whole puzzle. Spend the whole vacation with Bryan. But the part loyal to Paulie, dedicated to finding out the truth about her death, reminded her it wasn’t possible. She knew if she herself had died under suspicious circumstances, she’d want someone to find out the truth.

  nine

  ON SATURDAY MORNING, Bryan woke slowly. He lay in bed thinking of the night before. The choir show had gone well, and a crowd had gone out to celebrate together. Melanie had been so happy he hadn’t even minded taking her home early. She had rehearsal at ten this morning. For him and everyone else it was officially winter vacation.

  Before he could force himself to get up, the phone rang.

  “For you, Bryan. You up?” His mother pushed open his door. “That figures.” She shook her head. “It’s Melanie.” She handed Bryan a cordless phone.

  “I don’t know why I go out with such a lazy guy,” Melanie teased. Then before he could respond, “I enjoyed last night.”

  “Me, too, Mel. How’s rehearsal going?”

  “I’ve never worked so hard. Or felt so great. I only had a sec to call you. I did get us an appointment with Julie Pedigren today. She has classes in rehearsal for the recital, too, but she made time to see us. And listen to this—only after I said we wanted to talk to her about Ilene Greenway. She looked really distressed when I mentioned Ilene’s name. I think she knows something and it’s bothering her.”

  Melanie was practically whispering, but Bryan could hear the excitement in her voice. “Can Hank come home with you like we’d planned?”

  “Yes. She’s eager to talk to Julie, too. I think we’re going to make some progress today, Bryan. Really I do. Have to run. Bye.” There was a click, and Melanie was
gone.

  Bryan stared at the phone, then slowly jammed the aerial down and switched it off. He had never been involved in any situation where he felt so helpless. He was an action man. He carried his wrestling skills over to his life—to problems—whatever needed to be done. But as he sat on the edge of the bed, still hazy with sleep, he realized he’d never had any problems before. No real problems. And he’d never worried about anyone before like he worried about Melanie.

  He hadn’t realized his mom had returned and was staring at him. “Are you all right, Bryan? Is Melanie okay?”

  “Yeah, sure, Mom.” Bryan handed her the phone.

  “You’ve seemed preoccupied lately, worried. I can’t remember ever seeing you worry about anything for very long. You have a fight?”

  “No, just the opposite.” Bryan grinned at his mother. He used to talk to her a lot, but he’d stopped a couple of years ago. Now he wished he was about ten and could unload on her.

  “Caring for someone means worrying about her.” His mother was perceptive enough to guess part of his problem.

  “I’m learning that. Can I borrow the van? And did I miss breakfast?”

  “Shower. I’ll fix you a big lunch and we’ll talk about it.”

  She disappeared, not pressing him further.

  At one o’clock he started his pick-up service. The sun had finally come out, but it was still cold. Seth blew airy clouds of ice crystals into the air as he opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.

  “Get this thing warm, can’t you?” Seth complained, hugging his shoulders and shivering.

  “Engines at full blast, Spock. Five more minutes.”

  “Let’s go to college in Miami next year. Or Hawaii. Yeah, that’s better. You can get a Sumo scholarship.”

  “If I gain about two hundred pounds.”

  “And are willing to wear those diapers for competition.”

  “What are you two laughing about?” asked Hank when she and Melanie piled into the car. Seth had quickly jumped out so he and Hank could sit in the back. Melanie slid in beside Bryan.

  “Dorsey’s going to wear diapers to wrestle in Hawaii next year,” Seth gave her a partial answer.

  Melanie caught on. “What happened to Iowa and the gas station?”

  “Not warm enough there.” Bryan looked at the familiar fuzzy yellow hat and gloves, the familiar smile, and felt warmer already.

  “Did I come in halfway through this movie?” Hank asked Seth. “Hawaii? Iowa? If you’re talking about getting warm, I’ll bet we could drive to Florida in about twelve hours.”

  “Don’t let her behind the wheel, Dorsey.” Seth stopped being shy and pulled Hank close. “There are other methods of getting warm.”

  “Let’s try all of them.” Hank giggled. Then she immediately turned serious. “Mel, while we’re driving, tell me more about Paulie away from the dance studio.”

  “There was almost no such thing.” Melanie paused to gather her thoughts. Bryan felt it would be good for her to talk about Paulie.

  “Pauline was obsessed with being a great dancer. Even before Leona came on the scene. Then Paulie went beyond obsession.”

  “What do you mean?” Bryan glanced at Melanie. He hadn’t heard her say this before. “How can you go beyond obsession?”

  Melanie continued the story. “Once she got into that exclusive club that Leona formed, Paulie started living at the dance studio. I hardly saw her out of school. She went to classes or rehearsal every day. All she could talk about was the troupe, the troupe, the troupe.”

  “That’s all Laurie talks about any more,” Hank said. “That was why I was glad you came along, Mel.”

  “And now look what we’re talking about.” Seth grimaced.

  “Sorry. I know. I got sick of hearing about it. If Paulie and I hadn’t been good friends forever, I’d have dropped her. But to tell the truth, I was worried about her.”

  “How come?” Hank leaned toward the front seat.

  “She let her grades drop. Paulie and I had competed—on a friendly basis—ever since grade school. We figured as long as we had to go to school, we’d do well. But Paulie was a lot smarter than me. She was making straight A’s until she got in the troupe. Then, she stopped studying, got by in every way she could without literally flunking out.”

  “Did she wear that necklace all the time?” Seth asked, looking at Melanie.

  Melanie put her hand around the medallion she wore all the time now. “She sure did. I teased her about it at first. Told her it was like a ball and chain. I thought then it was terribly ugly. And the metal made Paulie break out in a rash all over her chest, just like it did to me. But it went away in a few days.”

  “You never told me that,” Bryan said.

  “That’s one reason I took it off immediately,” Hank said.

  “Paulie changed so radically, she and I started fighting. We’d never fought before.” Melanie looked distressed. “Paulie started being on the defensive a lot, and she was so intense.

  “Soon she started feeling tired all the time,” Melanie continued. “I was working hard in my class, too, but Paulie lost weight. She had never eaten right. A lot of dancers are victims of anorexia, obsessed by staying thin.”

  “That’s not my problem.” Hank smiled at Seth.

  “I’ve noticed.”

  Hank elbowed Seth. “Did all this lead up to Paulie’s accident, Mel? Tell me exactly why you think the car wreck wasn’t an accident.”

  Melanie stared at her fingernails for a few seconds. Then she took a deep breath. “Well, you know that a week before, she had that huge fight with Leona.”

  “And no one knows why,” Hank said. “Now we’re up to what I know. She never got a chance to talk to you about it?”

  “No, I do know she told Leona she was thinking of quitting the troupe. And Madame Leona told her she couldn’t. There wasn’t time to get another dancer before the recital ballet.”

  Hank continued the story. “That’s when she gave back the necklace and walked out. Leona was furious.”

  “I remember Paulie was sick for a couple of days,” Melanie said, “but after she recovered she said she felt better than she had for a long time.” Melanie fingered her necklace.

  “Then she had the wreck.” Seth told Hank.

  “I still can’t believe that happened.” Melanie turned and stared out the window. “Paulie had been driving since she was fifteen. Her father taught her in parking lots and driveways. He was as excited as she was when she was old enough to get her learner’s permit, but of course she drove well by then. He bought her a new car at the beginning of our senior year. Told her it was an early graduation gift.”

  “How did she have the wreck?” Hank shivered and scooted nearer to Seth. He pulled her close. Bryan glanced at them in the rearview mirror. Then he looked at Melanie to see if she was all right.

  “She’d been to see her grandmother. Up in Connecticut. She was crazy about Grannie McMasters. Went up there lots of weekends, especially when she wanted to be alone. Her grandmother lived in the country.” Melanie turned around again. “Paulie was such a good driver. She didn’t speed or show off in any way. She was a little absent minded, but …”

  “It was a one-car accident,” Bryan said. “The police said Paulie was driving about ninety miles an hour. They said the brakes on the car must have failed, or that Paulie didn’t try to brake soon enough.”

  “Brakes don’t fail on a new car.” Seth shook his head. “That’s what helped me believe Mel when she first said she didn’t think it was an accident.”

  “Maybe the brakes were defective,” Hank suggested.

  “She’d been driving the car for three months. Defective brakes would have showed up by then.”

  “Are you saying someone tampered with them?” Hank asked.

  “I just don’t know. The police said there were skid marks, but that they were in an erratic pattern.”

  “I’m sorry to ask this,” Hank said, “but could sh
e have committed suicide? I’ve heard lots of one-car accidents are really suicide.”

  “Mel and I have talked about that,” Bryan said. “We just don’t think so. It wouldn’t have been at all like her. She was starting to talk about all the other things she could do besides dance. She liked kids. She said she could teach and some day open her own school.”

  “Okay,” said Seth, serious for once. “You’re bringing a fresh approach to all this, Hank. Say whatever you’re thinking.”

  Hank sat up straighter and took a deep breath. “I—I don’t see how you can think that Madame Leona killed Paulie just because she quit the ballet troupe. That’s just too farfetched.”

  “But you agree that Leona’s a little strange, don’t you?” Melanie asked.

  “Sure. Eccentric. Obsessed with her work. But that’s all I can say. I know Paulie’s death was a waste, guys. She was so smart and so talented. I know you’re all hurting over it. But could you just be looking for some reason it happened—someone to blame?” Hank did bring an objective outlook to the matter.

  “I—I’m sure you could be right, Hank. None of us could say that out loud.” Melanie stared out the window for a few seconds, leaving an awkward silence in the car. Then she swung around.

  “But what can it hurt to keep looking for something—anything? I’m in the troupe. I’m going to stay there.”

  “I’m certainly willing to keep an open mind,” Hank said. “I think Nicol, Janell, and Anne are almost as strange as Leona.”

  Seth pulled a notebook from his pocket. “I haven’t let you do all the work, Melanie. I have this to add, thanks to some of my uncle’s powerful, but discreet and helpful friends.” He licked his finger and found the page. “Leona Turva has no account in a Bellponte bank. I went to the Seaton Arms office. She had no references, but paid for four months rent and damage deposit—a lot of money—in lieu of references, on an apartment for her and one for Nicol, Janell, and Anne. She paid in cash.”

  “How’d you find that out?” Hank asked.

  “Bribery. Apartment managers don’t make big salaries. And charm.” He grinned at Hank. “Then I asked my uncle to order a credit report on Leona Turva. I explained to him how important it was. She has no credit record.”