Skater's Waltz

by Peggy Jaeger

  The next thing she knew, her mother flew into the office, Detective Wilson right behind her.

  Once again Tiffany explained what had happened.

  “Why didn’t you tell the officer at the scene?” Wilson asked.

  “I don’t know.” She swiped a hand over her eyes. “I thought he might think I was nuts. But I did feel a hand push me, and I know it was intentional. Nothing that forceful could be accidental.”

  “And you didn’t have the feeling you were being followed, or didn’t recognize anyone when you were out walking?”

  “No to both. It was a beautiful day and my mind was going over all the routines I need to do tonight. I just wanted some air. I was sick of being cooped up in the apartment.”

  “You have no rehearsals today?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “I’m certainly no expert, but don’t you usually practice until right before an event?”

  Tiffany blew out a breath and rolled her neck. “Sean is a big believer in resting the day of competitions and shows. He thinks most injuries occur when you’re hyped up and pumped, and he knows I’m never so much so as on a performance day. He has a rule that we all rest, no skating at all, the day we open. He gave the entire company the morning off.”

  “So, whoever’s been trying to hurt you, has the day off as well.”

  Her brow furrowed. “I guess I didn’t think about it. All I wanted to do was get some air. Kind of a dumb idea in New York, I realize that, but…”

  “Well, I’ll add this to the other reports,” Wilson said, “but I really can’t do much about it. You didn’t see anybody you knew.”

  She shook her head.

  “Okay, I’ll be in touch.”

  When he left the office, Tiffany sighed. “I don’t think he believes me.”

  Carly rubbed her arm. “Of course he does. But he has nothing to go on.”

  Tiffany was silent for a moment. “I want to go home now,” she told her mother.

  Carly glanced over at her husband.

  “What?” Tiffany asked.

  “We think it might be better if you came to our apartment until show time. Just so you’ll have company.”

  Tiffany ran her tongue over her teeth. “Okay. I’m not arguing, but I have to be at the arena at four for makeup and costume.”

  “Don’t worry, sweetie,” Carly said. “You will be.”

  ****

  Tiffany was silent during the limo ride and in the elevator.

  “Want some tea?” Carly asked, shrugging out of her jacket when they came in the apartment.

  “No thanks, I’m already too wired. Mind if I just sit and veg for a while?”

  “A word with no application to you,” Carly said with a smile, “but, sure. Turn the television on. Maybe there’ll be some news about the treaty. I’m going to make some lunch and you’re going to have some, understand?”

  Tiffany glanced at her mother and managed a grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She flipped on the huge console with the remote and leaned back in Mike’s recliner. Cole’s face popped on-screen immediately. He was standing outside the UN with Secretary Macman at his side.

  Carly brought their lunch into the room just as the interview concluded.

  “His bags are all packed and ready for his flight tonight,” Tiffany said, not tasting the chicken salad her mother had scooped onto a china plate.

  “Mike told me this morning Stepman basically ordered him back to Sudan for follow-up reports.”

  Tiffany frowned and laid her fork down on her plate. “I don’t think he had to order Cole back. From the beginning he’s been saying he would go if anything developed.”

  “Sweetie, he won’t be gone long. You know that.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Mom. He could be gone a week or a year. When he’s done he’ll come back. We’ll spend some time together, and then he’ll be off again. It’s how he is, and I just have to accept it.”

  When they finished lunch, Tiffany stretched, yawned and said, “I think I’ll camp out on your bed for a while. Mind?”

  Carly rubbed a hand down her daughter’s hair. “Go ahead. I’ll wake you in time to leave.”

  “Thanks.” She was asleep almost instantly when her head hit the pillow.

  ****

  Cole swore. He pulled the cell phone from his ear and then tapped in Mike’s home number.

  “Carly, is Tiffany all right?” he asked without preamble.

  “She’s fine, Cole. She’s napping right now.”

  He took a steadying breath. “I called the apartment and got no answer. I was worried sick. Then Mike texted me. He said Tiff had an accident. What happened?”

  Calmly, she recounted what Tiffany had told them. “She wasn’t hurt, more scared than anything. She managed to get to Mike’s office without any more trouble. I’d say she’s trying to put the whole thing out of her mind.”

  “This is unbelievable. Listen. I’ve already recorded my feed for the six-thirty broadcast. I told Stepman and the news director I wasn’t going to do any more live pieces until after I got back to Africa. I have one more thing to finish up here, and then I’m coming over.”

  “Okay. Tiffany told me she has to be at the arena by four.”

  “I’ll be there before she needs to leave. I’ll take her to the rink. Don’t let her go without me.”

  “I won’t. She brought your bags down to the front desk for pickup. She said you left her a note.”

  He sighed, loud and long. “Yeah. I had to leave early and didn’t want to wake her up. How is she about my leaving?”

  “Upset. But you know Tiffany. She’ll brace herself and get over it.”

  “Carly, you know I have no say in this, right? I don’t want to go back. Ever.”

  There was a brief silence between them. “When you see her make sure you tell her you have no choice. It might make things easier. She’s very worried about you, about you going back there so soon. And, of course she’ll never admit this, but I know she’s scared about all the things going on with the show. I think she’s feeling very vulnerable, and that’s just not something she ever feels.”

  Another oath ripped through him. “I’ll be there within a half hour.”

  “Fine.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “She’s in the bathroom. Just woke up,” Carly told Cole when he came through the door thirty minutes later.

  “How is she feeling?”

  “Much better, thanks,” Tiffany said.

  Cole bounded across the room and drew her into his arms. “Carly told me what happened.”

  She wanted to cling. She wanted to cling so badly, so wantonly. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t use weakness to try and get him to stay, or get him to reconsider. That wasn’t how she was made.

  “Just another chapter in the ice-capade mystery,” she said.

  He pulled back and studied her. Tiffany hoped the smile on her face hid her inner torment.

  “You’re not hurt anywhere?”

  Just my broken heart. “No. I’m fine. Really. And I can’t wait to get on the ice.”

  That much was true. At least on the ice she was in total control.

  “Speaking of which, it’s time to leave.”

  “I’m going with you,” Cole said. “I finished up all my work for the day and checked out.”

  Tiffany cocked her head. “What if something develops and you’re needed at the UN?”

  “I already told Stepman to handle it. He will, since he knows I’m leaving in a few hours.”

  The words, so innocently said, shot through her system. Her insides quaked with equal parts of worry and need. Habit and determination forced her to hide the whirling emotions.

  “Okay. Mom? We’ll see you afterward?”

  Carly kissed her cheek. “I’ve got all our passes. Grandma, Serena, and her brood should all be there by seven. Look for us.”

  “You know I will.”

  “I’ll have Carlos bring the limo aroun
d. Let him take you both crosstown.”

  “How long is your flight?” Tiffany asked when they were in the elevator.

  “Eighteen hours with a three-hour delay in Madrid. I should be there by tomorrow night, your time.”

  “Taking the same crew again?”

  “Yeah, in fact they’ve already left. This morning.”

  “Why didn’t you go with them?”

  Cole frowned. “How can you ask that? With all that’s happening, how could I leave you before the opening? I have to make sure you’re all right.”

  She nodded, avoiding his intense gaze.

  “Tiffany, what’s wrong?”

  “Wrong?”

  “Look at me.” When she did he said, “You’ve been talking to me like a maiden aunt making polite conversation. You haven’t even kissed me hello and I haven’t seen you in almost two days. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing is wrong.” She summoned up a smile. “I’m running my routines in my head and trying not to worry about any of this. I want to be at my best tonight. And as for not kissing you hello, well, I’m still not used to doing it in front of Mom. I can rectify it right now, though,” she added with a saucy smile.

  Her hands wove around his neck under the collar of his coat and pulled his head down to hers, while she reached up on her toes. She’d wanted to keep the kiss light, but the instant their lips met it proved impossible to do.

  An almost unbearable heat spewed like an active, erupting volcano when she mated her mouth with his. In a heartbeat, his hands were around her waist pulling her close, draping her lithe form over his hard one. She fisted chunks of his hair in her hands and pulled him deeper into the kiss, totally mindless of their surroundings.

  The elevator door opened, closed, and opened again while they just stood together, locked in the embrace.

  The annoyed clearing of a throat finally pulled them apart.

  In the limo, Cole asked, “You didn’t see anyone following you?”

  She shook her head. “No. I already told Detective Wilson. I was going over my routines, just walking, keeping up with the crowds. I wasn’t looking for someone. If I hadn’t had to stop for the light to change, I don’t even think this would have happened. It kind of seems spontaneous, you know?”

  “Yeah, it sounds like it to me too.”

  She sat back, enveloped in his arms, drawing all the comfort and love she could into her, storing it up for when he was gone.

  A moment later, Carlos opened the car door.

  “Good luck tonight, Miss Tiffany,” he said with a broad smile.

  “Did you get your passes?”

  He all but beamed. “Yes, and I can’t thank you enough. My little girl Alexa is over the moon. She just adores you.”

  “I hope she enjoys the show.”

  They said goodbye to the driver and walked into Madison Square Garden.

  “I love this place,” she told Cole as they took the escalator down. “I always have.”

  “I remember the first time I came with you to a skating competition here. What were you, nine?”

  “Almost. It was Junior Nationals.”

  “ ‘A bright copper penny of power and grace,’ was how the POST sports writer described you,” he said with a grin.

  She frowned at the quote. “I didn’t like that description then and I still don’t. He made me sound like a piece of metal. And who wants to be compared to a penny? The lowliest of coins.”

  With a chuckle, he rubbed a hand up her arm. “Conceited. Even then.”

  She shot him a hard, haughty glare. “Accurate is more like it.”

  They got off the escalator and walked down toward the dressing rooms.

  “Is it locked?” Cole asked

  “No. Sean thought it would be a better idea to leave it open and accessible. Remember?” She moved through the door.

  Tiffany’s scream died on her lips as she saw the collapsed form of her director and coach, sprawled on his back across the floor of her dressing room. A bloody ice skate lay next to his head.

  ****

  “It’s just a bump, lass. Stop fiddling.” Sean smacked her hand away for the third time as she tried to secure the bandage.

  “Hold still, you old has-been,” Tiffany scolded. “You need more tape on this.” She secured the last strip and looked down at him. Her hands still shook, but at least she’d been able to put the bandage on correctly. “And I still think you should go to the hospital and have this thick skull of yours X-rayed.”

  “T’anks, but no t’anks. It’s just a flesh wound. You know all head cuts bleed mercilessly. I’m more mad than hurt.”

  “You’re more stubborn than sensible,” she shot back.

  Cole came back into the room, Detective Wilson with him.

  The detective took one look at the aging director and then at Tiffany. Hands on his hips, he shook his head. “Twice in one day, Miss Lennox? Okay, Mr. O’Brien. Tell me what happened.”

  “What does he mean, twice in one day?” Sean turned to Tiffany.

  “I’ll tell you all about it after you tell us what happened.” Tiffany said.

  “See if the machine’s okay first, lass.”

  Tiffany crossed to the hidden nanny-cam, pushed the eject button and grabbed the tape. “It’s got stuff on it. The tape’s advanced about a third of the way.”

  “We’ll look at it in a few minutes,” Wilson said. “Now, Mr. O’Brien?”

  “Okay, okay. I got here about two. I wanted to check on the skates again, make sure everything was okay. No one was here.”

  “What about DeCaccini?” Cole asked.

  Sean threw him a stern look and then shifted his gaze to Tiffany.

  “Who’s DeCaccini?” the detective and Tiffany asked together.

  Sean took a deep breath. “A friend of mine. Private Investigator-cum-bodyguard. I gave him the day off since no one was supposed to be here.”

  “Excuse me?” Tiffany’s spine went stiff. “Bodyguard?”

  “Now, lass, don’t get your girdle in a twist. He’s a friend of mine, and I asked him to keep an eye on you while I was busy with the show.”

  “You mean someone’s been following me?”

  “No, no. Calm down. He’s been here, up in the sound room watching rehearsals for the past two days. He never followed you anywhere outside the Garden.”

  Tiffany stared at him, torn between love and anger. Love won, so she kept her mouth shut.

  “No one was here when I arrived. I checked the extra skates in my office. They were still in the safe, untouched. I came down here to see if anything recorded on the nanny-cam. I wanted to see if our friend had tried anyt’ing. When I came in, I got hit from behind.”

  “You didn’t see who it was?”

  “No. He must have heard me coming. Hid behind the door.” He fingered the bandage on the side of his head. “Hit me with one of the skates.”

  “I’ll send it to be fingerprinted, so don’t touch it,” Wilson said. “Where can we view the tape?”

  “My office. Let’s go.”

  The four of them made their way to Sean’s inner sanctum, located one story up from the dressing rooms.

  “Rewind it to the beginning,” Wilson said.

  The first few minutes showed Tiffany coming in and turning the machine off. The short segment of her and Cole brought a momentary flush of heat to her body. She slanted a look at her lover and was pleased to see him shifting in the chair.

  “There.” Sean pointed to the machine. “Look.”

  Tiffany’s eyes widened. Surprise, then fury, shot through her.

  “Well, well,” Cole said. “Look who else joins the party.”

  An oath blasted through Sean’s lips. “I don’t believe this!”

  “Unfortunately, it makes sense.” Tiffany crossed her arms over her chest. “Two heads are better than one. Even two stupid ones.”

  All three men stared at her.

  “Look what’s happening,” Cole said, pointing at t
he screen.

  The voices were muffled, the voice tracking obscured by the hiding place, but the foursome was able to get the general gist of the conversation as the duo took the skates for the Run to You number from the loveseat.

  “That’s exactly what happened to the other one.” Sean’s blue eyes blazed while the skate blade was unwound with a screwdriver. “Do we look like idiots? Why would they think we wouldn’t inspect every skate before Tiffany wore it?”

  She laid a hand across his arm. “They probably didn’t think we suspected the skate had been tampered with in the first place. Remember, Sean, they don’t know we have another pair of skates. They don’t know we’ve found out what they’ve been up to. As far as these two are concerned, I’ve been hit with a bunch of freaky, random accidents.”

  “Yeah, like falling in front of moving cars,” Cole said bitterly.

  “What?” Sean exploded. He reached out and pulled her to his chest. “Lass?”

  Calmly, Tiffany explained the morning’s events.

  “That’s attempted murder in m’book,” the elder skater said.

  “I agree,” Wilson said, “but unfortunately we have no proof either of them did it. Miss Lennox didn’t see anyone following her. But this”—he pointed to the tape—“is enough proof for me to get a warrant.”

  “Wait,” Tiffany said. “I think I have a better idea.”

  “What are you talking about, Tiff?” Cole asked. “These two have to be arrested. Good God, they tried to kill you.” He pulled her into his arms.

  “What’s your idea, Miss Lennox?”

  Tiffany’s lips curved upwards. From the security of Cole’s arms, she smiled at the detective. “Well, as a very wise woman named Addie used to always say, ‘if you want to catch a fly, sweeten the trap with some honey.’”

  “What does that mean?” he asked.

  “Let me tell you what I want to do,” she said.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “You’re sure about this?” Sean asked for the hundredth time, as he ran a worried, protective hand down her back.

  “I’m always sure about what I want,” Tiffany said. “You should know that by now.”

  “Aye, I do.” He shook his head and swiped at his brow.