Last Dance

by Linda Joy Singleton

  In my dream, Cathy had started to tell Chloe something bad about James. My pulse quickened as I asked, “Blames you for what?”

  “Oh, nothing.” She looked away for a moment. “I was just talking silly.”

  “No, you weren’t. You feel guilty.” A vision popped into my head of young Cathy twirling a golden Hula-Hoop. She spun it on her arm until it grew smaller and smaller, until it was so tiny it twirled into a golden ring around her third finger.

  “I don’t have any reason to feel guilty,” Cathy protested.

  “What about the ring?”

  The color drained from her face. “You can’t possibly know! I only confided in two people. One I would trust with my life and the other is dead.”

  “Chloe. You told her about James and the ring,” I added with the same knowing feeling I had whenever the phone rang and I just knew who it was.

  With a nervous glance around, Cathy lowered her voice. “I only found out by accident. I was rushing to make an appointment, and literally bumped into him.”

  “James?” I asked.

  “Yes. At first, I didn’t recognize him. I’d only seen him a few times, but he was so different from the local boys, with wavy golden hair and snazzy clothes. I was walking down the sidewalk, when bam! He ran into me and we both stumbled. I heard a ping and saw a gold band fall from his pocket.”

  “An engagement ring for Chloe?”

  “You’re half right. It was a wedding ring, but not for Chloe.” Her eyes flamed furiously. “When James grabbed it, I saw a pale indentation around his third finger where men usually wear wedding rings.”

  “His ring?” I gasped. “But that would mean James was—”

  “A married man,” she said with a solemn nod. “I didn’t want to tell Chloe, but I had to stop her from making a terrible mistake—but it only made things worse. She was wild with anger. I never thought she’d still meet him that night. I don’t know what happened—only that it ended with her death.”

  Something defensive in her tone made me suspicious. “Are you sure there wasn’t more to it? No one ever heard from James again.”

  “He was probably afraid he’d be blamed for her death and ran away.”

  “Unless something happened to him.”

  “Ridiculous! He’s most likely dead by now, and if not, he deserves to be.”

  Her cold tone made me shiver. Had James loved Chloe or had he killed her? And what had happened to him?

  I gave Cathy a sharp look. “You said you told someone else about the ring.”

  “Well, yes. It was such a shock and I needed to talk, so I confided in someone I trusted.”

  “Who?”

  She paused. “Teddy.”

  After Cathy left, I sat on a bench to sort through what I’d found out.

  Everyone who knew Chloe gave a different picture of her. Which version was true? Was she a sweet and fun-loving girl or selfish and conniving? It was hard to know what to believe. Cathy’s loyalty was shadowed with guilt. Teddy’s devotion could hide dark secrets. Fan Club President Monique made Chloe sound as pure as a saint. And a man who never met Chloe created a museum in her honor. People were strange. No wonder Dominic preferred to work with animals.

  Dominic appeared at my side as if my thoughts had conjured him. He cradled a small cottontail bunny in his arms. “Where’d you find him?” I asked as he sat beside me.

  “Her,” he corrected. “She was hiding under the Whizzer ride.”

  “Poor little thing,” I said, reaching out to stroke her soft fur.

  “She’ll be fine once I take her home. Her family is beyond that fence, in those trees.”

  “Did she tell you that or is that a guess?”

  “I never guess.” He smiled, then invited me to walk with him. He held the bunny close to his chest, murmuring quietly to her. The bunny made a soft contented noise, like being next to Dominic was the coziest place on Earth.

  Dominic went straight to a section of fencing, a small hole hidden by thick bushes. Kneeling down, he helped the small creature through the hole. When it hopped away, I imagined it reuniting with a loving family–no longer lost. That’s what I wanted for Chloe, too.

  Dominic stood, turning to me. “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  “Chloe.”

  “Seen any sign of her ghost yet?”

  “Nope,” I answered as we walked back to busy booths and noisy crowds. “I haven’t even sensed her presence. It’ll probably be stronger by the pavilion.”

  “If she does show up, what will you do?”

  “Convince her to go to the other side. It won’t be easy because she thinks James is still coming for her.”

  “He’s a little late,” Dominic said cynically.

  “Maybe for a good reason. Like being dead. I’m beginning to suspect someone made sure he didn’t meet Chloe that night.”

  “Can you use your powers to find out?”

  “I don’t have any real powers. But if my spirit guide were around, I could ask her.” I swallowed hard, remembering how I’d told Opal to leave me alone. And she had.

  “You really think someone killed James?”

  “It’s suspicious that no one ever saw him again.”

  “Any suspects?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Chloe’s fiancé.”

  Dominic gave a low whistle. “She had a fiancé and a boyfriend? That’s asking for trouble.”

  “And she found it.”

  A sudden wind swirled leaves and the air sizzled as if charged with electricity. I tensed and looked around expectantly.

  Dominic lightly touched my arm. “What is it?”

  “I’m not sure … I sense something.” I looked around, only seeing ordinary people enjoying a festival. No other-world

  visitors. Yet goose bumps prickled my skin and I sensed a storm of energy gathering around me.

  The noise around me faded to a distant buzz and the world sharpened to bright, dizzying colors. Dominic’s aura flamed with intense reds and oranges, and something inside me flamed, too. I thought of Josh surrounded by girls at the dance, and felt sad a longing. I didn’t want to be alone waiting on the sidelines.

  A fifties band, set up on the raised pavilion, played a lively song. And for a moment, I had a dazzling vision of girls in full mid-skirts and guys with short haircuts. Dominic’s blue eyes darkened and his craggy, rugged face softened so he reminded me of James. The James I’d danced with in a dream.

  “The music is so lovely,” I murmured.

  “Do you know the song?”

  “Dance Away Love.”

  “I like it.”

  “You should. It’s our song.”

  “When did we get a song?” He sounded amused. “Sabine, are you all right?”

  “Never better.” A wild urge to join the dancers filled me. Nothing seemed to matter, it was like dreaming while awake and I could hardly remember my own name. He’d called me Sabine, but that wasn’t right.

  “Why are we standing around?” I grabbed his hand. It was rougher than I expected, but still nice. “Let’s dance.”

  “You want to dance with me?”

  “I can’t very well dance alone. Come on.”

  “Well, if you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure,” I said with confidence that surprised me.

  It was as if the pavilion was a stage and we were actors taking our places into familiar roles. As his fingers curled snugly around mine and he pulled me close, a rational part of my brain screamed, “What are you doing?” But another part shut out the questions and surrendered to the music.

  There were other couples on the pavilion, but I was barely aware of them. With golden lights shining down, soft as sunshine, I leaned against my dance partner and floated away. Swaying in perfect rhythm, we danced as if we’d done this a hundred times before. And it felt right.

  “You’re a good dancer,” I murmured dreamily.

  “So are you.”

  “I live for dancing.”
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  “You do?” he asked. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Now you do.” A strand of my hair flew across my eyes and I stared at the pale color in confusion. It should be darker, a rich shade of caramel. And why was I wearing jeans at a public dance? My parents would be shocked.

  “You’re different tonight,” he told me.

  “Different in a good way, I hope.” I flashed him a teasing look. “It’s my number-two goal in life to keep everyone guessing.”

  “And what’s number one?”

  “To achieve great things. I’m going to be famous.”

  “Famous?” he repeated with a puzzled tilt of his head. “Since when did you care about that?”

  “Always! My dreams are bigger than a thousand pavilions.”

  “I hope they come true.”

  “They’re starting to,” I said, my heart soaring as I met his gaze. “Finding the right person to share your dreams is important. No one really took me seriously before, but it’s all going to change soon. Everything will be perfect after you take me away.”

  “You want to leave already?”

  “Not the dance, silly.” Impatience and a powerful longing rose in my soul. Why was he looking at me so strangely? “I want to go places. Not tied down to Teddy—”

  “Teddy?” He knitted his brows. “Who’s he?”

  His question threw me off balance, and my world tilted as if I was slipping over a sharp edge. Dancers whirled by in a blur, spinning faster, faster. I tried to remember what I was doing here. But the memory seemed distant and my mind drifted along while the band played. There were no worries or cages of rules on the dance floor. Only music.

  “I wish the song would never end,” I murmured, enjoying the warm comfort of my cheek pressed against his shoulder.

  “Everything has to end eventually.”

  “Not for us. It’s only beginning.”

  “Are you okay Sabine?”

  “You’re teasing again. You know that’s not my name.”

  He gave me a strange look. “I do?”

  “Don’t say anything more.” I grabbed for him, holding tight to dreams, I whispered desperately, “Just dance.”

  He nodded, saying nothing at all.

  We drifted away from other dancers, to a secluded corner of the pavilion. Fears faded to a peaceful sense of joy. Everything was going to be all right. I was young, talented, and powerful. I could do anything, go anywhere, achieve everything, and no one could stop me.

  Thunder rumbled nearby, but it was safe and protected under the pavilion, where dancers whirled and voices lifted in laughter. My heart lifted, too. And when I looked up into the most handsome face in the world, I knew he was the only one for me. My fairy-tale prince coming to the rescue.

  “James, my love,” I said softly as I circled my arms around his neck.

  He shook his head, yet didn’t pull away. His eyes shone brightly, more sky blue than night black. And his golden hair seemed unusually dark.

  Lightning flashed as we stood alone in our own universe. His gaze smoldered. Hot, intense, wanting—my breath came faster, warmth flowing through me. I parted my lips and lifted my chin. He hesitated for only a moment, then brought his lips hungrily down on my own. The hands pulling me close were oddly rough, yet amazingly soft. Our hearts pounded a wild rhythm and I tasted salty desire on his lips.

  Rain fell around the pavilion.

  And we kissed.

  I was floating in a wonderful dream where someone loved me and I loved him in return. There was music and happiness and no problems. I longed to live in this moment forever. From far away, I heard someone calling.

  Sabine … Sabine …

  That name again! I thought with irritation. Energy surged then faded. A jolt of clarity rocked my mind—and I was back. It was like waking suddenly from a dream. I blinked fast, panic rising inside me. What had just happened? Why was I kissing Dominic?

  Jumping back, I stared at Dominic in shock. He looked confused and reached for me, but I backed further away. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  “Everything!” I choked out. “How could you? I can’t believe I was just—that we were—”

  “Kissing?” Dominic smiled.

  “Ohmygod!”

  “Is that a compliment or complaint?”

  “You don’t understand—it wasn’t me! It was … HER!”

  He frowned, looking a bit dazed, too. I wanted to explain, but all I could do was sputter and shake my head. How could I blame what just happened on a ghost? That was crazy—even for me!

  Turning around, I ran. I was hardly aware of the rain as I jumped off the pavilion, only shame and embarrassment. I had to get away.

  It wasn’t my fault, I tried to reassure myself as I dodged around a group of children waving balloons. It was Chloe. She loved to dance, not me. All the romantic desires were hers, not mine. She started the kiss with James—yet I’d finished it with Dominic. And heaven help me, I’d enjoyed it.

  “Sabine, wait!”

  Ignoring Dominic, I ran faster, racing past booths, only slowing once to avoid an old guy in a ghoul costume. Then I sprinted through the gate and out of the park. Tightening my jacket against the rain, I had no destination in mind except far away.

  But there was no running from my shame. Over and over, I kept replaying the kiss. Not sweet and friendly like my kisses with Josh, but wild and powerful. I hadn’t known it was possible.

  Oh, Josh! I’m so sorry, I thought guiltily. I’d worried about him cheating on me with other girls, yet I was the betrayer. How could I explain it to him? Josh would never believe I’d been possessed by a ghost. But that was the truth—it had been Chloe. Not content to invade my dreams, she’d taken over my body. Yet I’d been there, too, sharing wild emotions, enjoying myself …

  I ran even faster, passing the cemetery and into the main section of town. I recognized stores and hurried up on the sidewalk to escape the rain. Had it only been this afternoon that I’d been here with Thorn and Dominic? That seemed like another lifetime. How could I ever talk to Dominic again? What did he think of me? Or had a ghost possessed him, too?

  I was out of breath and my jacket was drenched. Shaking my wet hair, I took refuge under the barbershop awning and sat on a bench. Wrapping my arms around myself, I tried to keep my body from shaking.

  I don’t know how long I sat there. It may have only been minutes, but it felt like decades. When my heart slowed and I felt almost normal again, I had to face the fact that running away didn’t solve anything. I had to talk to Dominic. He’d been under Chloe’s spell, too, or he never would have kissed me. So he’d have to understand. He was probably embarrassed, too, and would be happy to forget it ever happened.

  Resolved, I stood up from the bench.

  But as I stepped out into the street, the storm lashed out full force and rain pounded so fiercely I ran for cover. When I looked up, I realized I stood on the threshold of the Chloe Museum. It seemed more than coincidence.

  I was beyond surprise when I found the door unlocked. The sound of rain faded as I entered the building. The air was still with a faint aroma of vanilla. This was my chance to find out what secrets were hidden behind the red-heart door.

  Water dripped from my hair and clothes as I cautiously entered the museum. I shivered slightly, more from facing the unknown than the cold. And when I reached the forbidden door with its bright red heart, the knob turned easily—as if it were inviting me to enter.

  My eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, and I saw that the room wasn’t much larger than a closet. It was lined with glass cases and framed news clippings on the wall. Finding a wall switch, I flipped it on. Only instead of flooding the room with light, haunting music flowed from hidden speakers. The same melody I’d heard in my dreams.

  Chloe’s song.

  I strained my eyes to study the news clippings. Yellow with age and bold headlines: “Local Girl’s Tragic Fall, Dancing Leads to Death” and “Missing Young Man Still Sought.” Thi
s was the first evidence that hinted at James’s involvement in Chloe’s death. I skimmed the article, but there was little information about him. No one knew his full name or where he came from. But I did find out more details about Chloe’s death. The rain-soaked dirt at the cliff’s edge had crumbled beneath her and she’d plunged down a steep canyon. It wasn’t the fall that killed her, but a dead tree with a sharp branch. She’d literally died of a broken heart.

  There were pictures, too. Icy prickles rose on my skin as I looked at the smiling girl, her full skirt spinning as she danced on her last day of life. And there in the background, close behind her, was a handsome golden haired young man. His smile hinted at smugness and his dark eyes were bold and confident.

  James. It was as if I knew him intimately—how sweet words slid so easily from his soft lips, his warm, eager touch, and how he laughed easily at jokes, especially his own.

  My cheeks warmed and I quickly turned my attention to the glass cases. They were filled with odd items: bits of torn clothing, scattered pearls, a scrap of nylon, a hairbrush, and a ring missing a stone—the sort of things you’d find in someone’s garbage, not protected under glass.

  An invisible force drew me to a small glass case half-hidden in a corner. When I saw the object inside, I choked back horror. It was a sharp branch, twisted and darkened with odd patches. And I realized why this room was forbidden.

  Instead of celebrating Chloe’s life, it showcased her death. Broken jewelry, tattered clothes, bloodstains, and a branch from the tree that ended her life.

  But why would Kasper, a man who never even knew Chloe, create such a sick collection? Was he some kind of pervert? Or was there another, darker reason?

  And then it hit me.

  I turned back to the picture of Chloe and James. And I looked at it, staring deep into faces. Take away the golden hair, add age lines and about fifty pounds, and the resemblance was unmistakable. And shocking.

  So many things suddenly made sense: Chloe’s ghost started making annual appearances nine years ago—about the same time Kasper moved to town, Kasper’s odd obsession with a girl who died a half-century ago began, and Chloe’s insistence that James was still here—because he was.