Dancing Ladies

by Marilyn Gardiner

  Her heart seemed to hesitate and then beat again. “How did you know..."

  "It would be hard to forgive someone you loved as much as you loved your twin for deliberately removing themselves from your life. Even worse, when they chose to do it in the way she did, knowing you would blame yourself. That would be almost impossibly hard to forgive and forget."

  He rocked her back and forth in silence.

  After a moment, when she had drawn a deep breath and composed herself, he spoke into her hair. “How about a movie tomorrow night? You and Max?"

  "What movie?"

  "I don't care. Whatever's playing at the mall theater. We have twelve choices."

  "Max will want something animated. Can you bear it?"

  "Sure. But there's a Harry Potter thing playing, I think. Has he seen it?"

  "Is there such a thing as too much Harry? Max'd love it, but are you sure you want to do this?"

  "If it's the only way I get to spend time with you, I can take anything. Ruby June had him tonight, you won't want to ask her to sit with him again tomorrow. Tell you what. I'll call Jessica and see if I can get Stacey. With the billable hours she's putting in at work Stace ought to be domiciled with me, anyway. We'll make it a foursome. Pizza first?"

  She tapped a balled fist on his chest. “You've got a date, buddy. Max will love you forever."

  He went suddenly sober. “How about Max's mother? How will she feel about me?"

  Kate stilled. She didn't know how to answer him. It couldn't be what she felt it might be, could it? They'd never even had a date. Blizzards at the Dairy Queen with a baker's dozen little boys, and one girl, didn't make dates. Mowing her lawn wasn't a date. Of course, he'd gone out and bought pizza that one night.

  There was a good possibility that she loved him right back. However, there were too many other things pressing in on her life to take time out for a relationship. But, she had to say something. She owed him that. He'd done so much for her. Made himself available, even when she didn't know she needed him. Was unfailingly patient, especially when she was not. Was so very, very good for and with Max. She owed him something.

  "Cass.” She clasped her hands in her lap and looked up at him. “Now isn't the right time. With everything that's going on ... I'm not wrapped real tight. I can't focus on anything else. I have Huey breathing down my neck. At least I think it's Huey. He's apparently in town and he left a half-threatening note in my mailbox yesterday, and I look for him behind every tree when I go out."

  "Huey? Here? When?"

  She only nodded and went on. “There are the ongoing calls with no one on the other end and the display on the phone shows the caller is blocked. And there is always Leah. She appeared tonight on my back window, in the fog, just before I was almost flattened by an eighteen-wheeler on Route 29. I don't have time to consider anything else at this point except trying to keep my life—and Max's—on an even keel. Don't ask me questions yet, please."

  He didn't say anything for a long minute. Then, in a quiet voice, “Why didn't you tell me about Huey? And about Leah in the back window."

  "I would have. But I was ticked by the way you acted about Joe and ... So I'm telling you now. I guess it was a childish response."

  "Anything else that got lost between the cracks?"

  "Just the photos."

  "Photos?"

  "I'll get them and you can see for yourself. I had them developed this evening."

  They sat together on the sofa while he examined the pictures of whatever showed and didn't show in the photo she took of the landing window, and the one Max took of Leah, supposedly, in the doorway of his room. Nondescript blobs, both. Proving nothing except that the general shape and size was the same as what confronted Kate in the hallway that night. It was Leah. She knew it.

  Finally, with a raised eyebrow, Cass looked up. “You do realize, don't you, that nothing happened when I kissed you tonight? Leah was quiet. And I kissed you not once, but twice. And I fully intend to kiss you again before I leave. Has she given up, do you think?"

  "You're tempting fate. Of course she hasn't given up. Leah never gives up. I've had the twin tombstone dream again, too. The one with the date of my death already chiseled in. That's scary, Cass."

  He stared at her in wordless anxiety, before drawing her close and holding her against his side. “I wish you'd come home with me. I wish you'd let me stay. Let me put the two of you up in a motel room for a few..."

  The clicking of toenails on the hall floor upstairs announced Babe's approach. He came down the stairs, tail wagging, whining, and started to turn for the kitchen and the back door.

  "He needs to go out. I'll get it.” Kate moved away from the shelter of Cass's arms and gathered herself to rise.

  Abruptly Babe swiveled, his hindquarters slipping on the hardwood floors. He stared fixedly into the dark well of the sunroom where the orchid stand stood, invisible now, in the east window. He took three hesitant steps forward and stopped, all the hair on his back rising in stiff hackles. His ears quivered forward and his nose twitched as he scented the air.

  The dog stood rigid, unblinking. And then he barked, savagely, making half lunges toward the door but stopping short of the darkness. The ruff of hair around his neck bristled in warning. He snarled, growling ferociously in a way Kate had never heard.

  "Babe! Stop! Hush, it's all right. There's no one there. Babe!"

  But the dog wouldn't stop and wouldn't turn his head. His lips rolled back, exposing his teeth.

  Kate's stomach went into a fight or flight mode. She stood to go to Babe, but Cass's hand on her arm stopped her. He strode to the doorway, peering into the darkness for a second before reaching around and flipping the light switch.

  Light flooded the room and Babe stopped barking. He growled a warning deep in his throat, but went no further into the sunroom.

  From where she stood Kate could see the rocking chair, tilting forward and back, forward and back, for all the world as if someone had been sitting there and only now arose to go elsewhere.

  The short hair on the back of her own neck stiffened. The room was empty. Even though Babe still grumbled, from where he stood, warning of danger and announcing his intention to protect what was his, Kate could see nothing. The dog refused to look away from whatever he had sensed in the dark.

  The room was empty.

  Fourteen

  Velvet Dusk

  One of the largest Laelias, growing about twenty inches tall. Flowers are fragrant and huge, up to eight inches in diameter. Colors vary from pure white to bluish purple. Slim, pointed petals. Laelia Purpurta.

  When Cass had gone, Babe finally relaxed and dropped his head between his paws and dozed. Kate's nerves still skittered like water on a hot griddle. In an effort to calm herself, she checked on Max sleeping soundly, spread-eagled on his back, changed into her gown and went back down to the screened porch.

  The storm was over, as if there had never been thunder and lightning, sheeting rain and fog. Moonlight splashed silver lights off the lake as it laid a glimmering shaft across the water. By moon glow she could see that beyond the lily bed the dock was completely submerged. An uneasy flutter danced through her. The backyard was half drowned. She wondered if the river was out of its banks and inching up the levee. An edgy and hazy dread accompanied the thought. Not yet, likely. Surely not yet.

  The moon scudded between clouds, casting moving shadows and creating interesting highlights. She wished her talents extended to the painting of landscapes. Lawn By Moonlight she'd title it. Or Lake at Dangerous Level.

  No, she knew her limitations, and they had settled into a solid sense of satisfaction. She couldn't paint landscapes, but she did paint flowers, especially orchids, well. Extremely well, according to some people, she thought with pride. She had climbed a couple of rungs up the ladder of success, at least.

  Gradually, her nerves began to settle. One of the things she loved best was to sit with a cup of coffee in hand in the soft pearly light o
f early morning or, as now in the dark with only the tiny votive candles lighted and night insects coming out after the rain and buzzing against the screen. She seemed to do her best thinking on the porch.

  After their initial reaction of fright, and on Kate's part anger, had passed, Cass hadn't stayed long. They agreed the rocking chair was another of Leah's antics, designed to get their attention and tell them that while she was not overlooking the kiss, it was not an act of aggression big enough for her to cause panic. Cass had taken Kate out on the front steps and kissed her long and hard.

  "A precautionary measure,” he grumbled. “Only kissing in the house itself seems to bother her. Not always, but sometimes. And you need a restful night's sleep.” Cass took his leave then, exacting a solemn promise from her to call him if Leah did anything crazy that night. He said he'd pick up her and Max at five the following evening, waited until he heard the soft chink of the bolt shooting home, and drove away, his toolbox rattling in the back of the pickup.

  Kate had checked all the doors, her regular bedtime ritual, then decided she was too wired to sleep and opted for a last cup of coffee on the back porch. Now in her gown, cup in hand as she sat in the hanging chair, she grimaced. At this rate, with all the caffeine she was swallowing, it would be dawn before she got to sleep.

  The fact that Leah had left the house to appear in the rear window of her car niggled at the back of her consciousness. In all the reading she'd done in the last few weeks, there had been nothing to indicate the spirit ever left the house in which it had suffered and died. Maybe she ought to check the Internet for paranormal events, ghosts, whatever, and see if she could unearth any data to support the theory that it might be Leah warning her, yet again, of something. But what?

  She thought back over the evening. The bridge had been just ahead of her when it happened. So, too, the big truck that almost ran her down. But what was Leah—and it must have been Leah—warning her about? The truck? Some form of impending doom? The phone calls?

  An attack she herself, Leah, was planning? Revenge? Retribution?

  A decision or action of Kate's from the past that would rise again to bite her?

  Huey?

  Whatever the motivation, Leah's reason must be powerful. For a spirit or ghost, leaving the scene of death was highly unusual, that much Kate knew.

  The cordless phone rang at her elbow, making her jump. The sudden strident sound in the quiet of the night set all her nerve endings aquiver again.

  "Hello.” Nothing.

  "Hello!” No sound at all.

  Her patience at an end, Kate's voice rose. “Look, I don't know what game you think you are playing, but it's time to quit. Stop bothering me or say what it is you want!"

  A low-pitched chuckle came across the line, and all Kate's senses sprang alert to focus on the sound. It was the first audible thing she'd heard since the calls began weeks ago. The amused laughter faded and again there was silence.

  "Talk to me, damn you!"

  The silence was strong enough to stiffen hair at the back of her neck.

  "Then leave me alone!"

  She punched the off button and slammed the phone down on the table. It immediately rang again and Kate let it ring. She looked off into the distant darkness, tapping her toe in seething frustration, wishing the telephone was anywhere but where it was, wishing she dared turn off the ringer, wishing she could call the police and demand a tracer. None of those things were possible so she simply let it ring and waited with foreboding for the answering machine to kick in.

  "Kate, if you're there, pick up. I need to talk to you."

  It was Bree. Relieved, anger evaporating, Kate reached for the phone.

  "I'm here, Bree. Just had another of those anonymous phone calls and I thought they were calling back again. What's going on?"

  "I told you to get a whistle and blow out their eardrums the next time they called. This is harassment, pure and simple."

  "This time the person laughed as if something was funny. At least this time I know for sure someone was on the line. But what do you want? Is something wrong? It's almost midnight."

  "Kate. This guy is hot! I mean hot! And he liked my shrimp and cheese appetizer. Kate, I'm almost glad you couldn't come. He'd have taken one look at you and not given me the time of day."

  There was no doubt who she was talking about. The new man at the party. “Bree! Stop being so melodramatic. That isn't so and you know it. Did you talk to him?"

  "Between us, we cleaned up the dish I took. So, yes, we talked. Half the night. He's wonderful! You'll never guess. He's a part-time caterer."

  "Guess I don't need to ask if you had a good time."

  "I'm already planning next week's get-together dish. I'm taking Thunder Thigh Casserole. You know, that thing with all the cheese and wine and croutons and..."

  "I know what you're talking about. The dish you rarely make because of the astronomical calories."

  "Right. I've given up on ever seeing size eight again, but I'm hanging on to size fourteen for dear life. I'll only eat a tiny little bit and take a big broccoli salad with grapes and sunflower seeds and healthy stuff. I'll eat that. It's got to be perfect with him being a caterer. What do you think?"

  "I think this guy made quite an impression. Does he have a name?"

  "It's Rick. He's managing that new computer store down town and he's beginning a catering service on the side. You should taste his Angels on Horseback. Mmmm. To-die-for good."

  "Angels on—What in the world are they?"

  "An almond stuffed inside a date and wrapped with a half slice of bacon and broiled until the bacon is done. Heavenly!"

  "Maybe I'll meet this paragon next week."

  "You've got to promise me you'll frizz out your hair and wear your Morticia eyelashes. I don't want him interested."

  Kate laughed. “I have my hands full of my own problems. I don't need another."

  "What? Springfield didn't go well? Mr. Perfectly Wonderful didn't show?"

  "Springfield was fine. Joe Kiniki was fine, but I almost got smeared across highway 29 coming home in the fog, and within seconds Leah appeared on my rear window. Explain that! Then once home, Leah did another of her fright tactic maneuvers and scared the living daylights out of Cass and me."

  "Wait a minute! Begin at the beginning, please. The last I heard you were having dinner with this flirty guy who's always inviting you to Puerto Vallarta or someplace exotic."

  "My fabric man, yes.” And Kate filled Bree in on her evening, leaving out very little and finishing with Babe's ferocious response to the rocking chair in the empty, darkened orchid room.

  "Well.” Bree was silenced for a moment. “Well, dogs are supposed to have an extra sense or something, aren't they? They see and hear things we humans can't."

  "Obviously."

  "Do you think it was Leah, again?"

  "Yeah, I do. But Bree, I don't get it. None of it makes any sense. Was she warning me of danger or taunting me just to tease? Thing is, I never ever felt she hated me, you know? We had our disagreements sure, and she always had to have the last word, sometimes at the top of her lungs, but hatred, wanting to do me bodily harm—no. Never. She was never vicious."

  "What makes you think she's turned vicious now? Taunting isn't necessarily vicious, is it?"

  "I can't forget the first time she appeared. The day we arrived. The look she gave me in the mirror was ... was murderous. My twin. The other half of me. She surely doesn't love me. That hurts."

  "Could you have misinterpreted that look in any way?"

  "I don't think so. I don't know. I was so shocked, I went brain-dead for a few seconds."

  "You know, experts say we only use a very small portion of our brain. Maybe our minds, or spirits, are capable of far more than we ever dream."

  "I'm becoming a believer."

  "When did this thing happen tonight with the rocking chair?"

  "Right after I put in the video of Leah and me dancing at a recital when we
were little, and Cass had kissed me."

  "He laid a good one on you, huh?"

  Kate nodded into the dark and agreed with what amounted to a smug, satisfied little smile. “The toe-curling kind, yes."

  "And Leah objected.” It wasn't a question.

  "Apparently so."

  "I could use one of those toe-curling kisses sometime myself."

  "Oh yeah?"

  "Well, not from Cass. For me that would be like kissing my cousin. But I know a guy I'd certainly let try."

  "You are incorrigible! Is he that good?"

  "I don't know yet what kind of kisser he is, but I promise you I'll find out soon. If my Thunder Thigh Casserole doesn't do it, I'll think of something else."

  "You're a fabulous cook; that's a given. But did it ever occur to you that a man might like you simply for yourself?"

  "No."

  "Then dwell on the thought. The right man just hasn't come along yet."

  "We don't know that! Not after tonight."

  "All right, we don't know that. Now, are you going to let me go to bed? I'm about wiped out.” Kate yawned conspicuously into the phone.

  "I'm not ready to go to bed yet, but it sounds like you are. Go sleep the sleep of the innocent, Katey. My own thoughts aren't particularly innocent tonight."

  "Fine. I'll talk to you—” The line had gone dead.

  Kate dialed Bree back, but the line was truly dead. She stretched and shrugged. The line was apparently out of order. The storm. All that standing water. The phone company would fix it in the morning. And then she smiled. Bree's thoughts were a bit frisky, huh?

  Well, her own thoughts less than innocent, as well. Kate hung up the phone and wandered through the house, plumping pillows, replacing the video tape in the sewing table, straightening antimacassars on the backs of chairs. The blank, dark door to the orchid room seemed to draw her with an ungodly fascination, and reluctantly, heart clubbing hard in her chest, her feet took her to the door. She stopped with one hand on the frame and stared into the well of darkness.