by Amy Vansant
“What?”
“Ah dreamt of Fiona again.”
Catriona hooked her mouth to the side. “Are you trying to make me jealous now?”
“Na. But ah thought you’d lik’ tae ken she tried tae seduce me.”
“Seems that’s a habit with her.”
“Aye. Bit ah didnae touch her.”
“No?”
“Na. Tellt her tae leave aff us.”
“Yeah?”
“Aye.”
He could see Catriona struggling to hide her emotions, but she seemed pleased.
“Huh,” was all she said before leaving and closing the door behind her.
From the hall, he heard a joyous whoop and grinned.
Though, he’d have to work on the dancing.
Chapter Fifteen
Broch and Catriona entered Sean’s office to find Luther sitting in his usual spot in the corner of the sofa. That side of the ancient leather furniture sat lower than the opposite side, thanks to the big man’s preference.
Catriona pulled the chair away from Sean’s desk so she wouldn’t feel as if she’d been called to the principal’s office. Broch followed suit and slid a chair beside hers.
Sean straightened behind his desk.
“Okay, we need to get a handle on this.”
“What do we know so far?” asked Catriona.
Sean looked at Luther. “Anything new on Colin?”
The big man rubbed his bald head. “Nothin’ yet. Still working on going through the surveillance footage. You two can help me with that after this.” He nodded to Catriona and Broch.
“Whoopie,” mumbled Catriona.
Sean tapped a pen against his desk. “The time of death hasn’t been narrowed down, and I don’t know if Colin is going to have an alibi for all of it. He says he hasn’t been home in a couple days. He’s been sleeping at the home of a...” Sean paused and glanced at Catriona.
Catriona felt her lip curl, as if the smell of dead fish had suddenly filled the room. “Oh please don’t think Colin’s romantic life has any effect on me. That is ancient non-history.”
Sean flicked his wrist as if shooing away a fly. “No, I know. Anyway. Hopefully the girl can provide him with a solid alibi.”
“Did he ken the deid lassie?” asked Broch.
Sean nodded. “They’d been dating, but not so seriously that he found it odd when he didn’t hear from her for a few days.”
“Or so seriously he wasn’t staying at some other girl’s house when she was killed,” mumbled Catriona.
She looked up to find Sean staring at her. “Not that I care.”
Catriona glanced at Broch and then leaned her elbows on her knees to address Sean. “So, Sean, to be clear...you’re saying a man and woman can sleep together, without being married?”
Sean scowled. “Uh, why does your question fill me with fear?”
“So he must have been paying her for sex?”
“What? No. I said, they were dating.”
“But she was the sort of girl he could never marry, of course.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Well, I mean if she was sleeping with him and they weren’t married, she must not be the sort of girl you marry, if you know what I’m saying. I mean, that’s what I’m told by some people.”
She flicked her eyes towards Broch.
Sean followed her direction and glanced at Broch before returning his attention to Catriona. “I am not getting involved in whatever this is.”
Catriona sighed. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to confirm with you that it is totally normal and common for couples to share a bed before marriage and that fact doesn’t mean the woman is a hoo-er.”
Luther peered at Broch over his reading glasses and offered a low whistle “Boy, you’d better watch yourself because you’re gonna lose this fight.”
Sean nodded slowly. “Right. On both accounts.”
Broch crossed his beefy arms across his chest, staring in icy silence at the wall opposite him.
Catriona smiled. “Cool. Please continue.”
Sean sighed. “Great. Thanks. Go ahead, Luther.”
Luther once again lowered his paper. “That’s all I got. There’s nothing to say Colin did it—”
“Except the body they found under his house,” interjected Catriona.
“Right. That part’s bad.”
Sean leaned back in his chair. “Did you know a body decomposes faster if it hasn’t bled out?”
“If it hasn’t—” Catriona took a second and then closed her eyes. “The expanding foam. Whoever killed her was sealing the wound to speed up decomposition?”
Sean smiled. “You didn’t figure that one out?”
She sneered. “You threw that fact at me on the phone and ran away. I didn’t know it was a test.”
“Fail.”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
He chuckled. “Anyway, it’s a theory. The killer might have stopped the bleeding to be sure the body was found sooner.”
“And Colin would be arrested sooner,” mumbled Catriona.
Sean nodded. “Maybe. As for Timmy, I just heard from his sister. On the upside, the dancer he attacked is going to live. She’s very lucky.”
“So is he,” muttered Luther.
Sean nodded in agreement. “Timmy’s blood tested positive for bath salts, so the next order of business is to find out how that happened.”
Catriona remembered a news story about a man on a drug known as ‘bath salts’ who tried to rip off someone’s face. Timmy’s violence made more sense if he were on such a drug.
“He didn’t admit to taking them?” she asked. “From what I hear, he’s not an angel when it comes to drugs.”
“He swears he’s never touched them. I asked around and no one remembers him ever having an interest in designer stuff. Coke, weed, maybe some ecstasy—but that was about it. And for all his faults, he’s always been a professional when on set.”
“Except when it comes to women,” added Catriona. She’d heard rumors about Timmy’s wild sex parties.
Luther chuckled. “I thought he fancied men when he started here. Then I found out that boy pulls down more—” He glanced at Catriona and cleared his throat. “I’m just sayin’, he sure loves the ladies.”
“Sex parties are a long way away from ripping out someone’s throat,” said Sean.
Catriona put a foot up on the edge of Sean’s desk. “So you’re thinking someone set him up too? Someone’s after the studio?”
“It’s definitely a possibility.” Sean poked Catriona’s toe with his pen and she dropped her foot back to the ground.
“Who would have access to Colin and Timmy?”
“That’s a good question.”
“Could thay hae something in common? Someone wha hates thaim both fur an identical reason?”
All eyes turned to Broch and he scowled, appearing exasperated. “Fowk murdered fowk in mah time tae. Fowk wur evil. Ah’m not glaikit. Ah hae the identical brains as ye dae.”
Catriona looked at Sean. “Glay-kit?”
“Stupid. He’s not stupid just because he’s new to our time.”
Hearing Sean admit to Broch’s time-traveling past out loud, Catriona’s gaze shot to Luther.
The big man chuckled. “I know all about your time-travelin’ boyfriend. I found your pop, remember?”
Catriona nodded. She’d forgotten Luther had discovered Sean. There’d been no reason to keep Broch’s secret from him.
Sean looked at Broch. “You’re right. I apologize if it seemed we were excluding you. You’re part of the team now.”
Broch nodded. “Aye. Thank ye.”
“And you’re right. We should check into anything the two of them have in common, just in case this isn’t about the studio, but about those two. Teena’s thing could be the usual stuff.”
“I don’t think the two of them could be any different,” said Catriona, picturing Colin, the strapping action hero, standing
beside the petite retired dancer.
“That’s for sure,” agreed Luther.
Broch sniffed. “Wummin.”
“What?” asked Sean.
“Wummin. Ye said Timmy lik’d the lassies and Colin wis sleepin’ with wummin he wisnae marry’n.”
Catriona rolled her eyes. “I only said that to make a point with you.”
“Ah ken. It remains true.”
Sean sat forward in his chair. “He has a point. They’re both players. Something to consider. Luther, why don’t you see if you can get a list of people they’ve dated in the last year or two?”
Luther stood, grunting as his knees cracked. “I’ll take a notebook.”
Catriona stood as well. “I think I’m going to sniff around Timmy’s dressing room. See if anything sets off any alarm bells.”
“What about that video footage?” asked Luther.
She grimaced and Luther patted her shoulder. “I gotta guard who can finish up. Don’t you worry, princess.”
She grinned. “Thank you, Luther.”
“Uh huh.”
Catriona looked at Broch. “You want to come to Timmy’s with me?”
“Aye.” He stood and they said their goodbyes.
In the hall, Broch elbowed Catriona. “Sae...why did Sean think ye’d be mad aboot Colin’s new mistress?”
Catriona shook her head. “Don’t even go there.”
They walked in silence for a few more steps before Broch spoke again.
“But...surely Colin cannae dance lik’ me?”
Catriona giggled.
Chapter Sixteen
Catriona and Broch walked from Sean’s office to the studio where they shot Ballroom Bounce. Catriona ducked under the police tape crisscrossing the door to flip on the lights, which burst to life in a series of loud pops.
The large studio had been split into two sections: the area where filming took place, boasting a stage and the audience seats, and the back, housing rehearsal spaces, costume storage and dressing rooms.
“They dance in ’ere?” asked Broch.
Catriona nodded. “It’s a contest. People dance and then the judges, like Timmy, vote on who’s the best. The losers go home. And of course there’s an audience sitting here that oohs and aahs at everything.”
“And this is something ah cuid watch oan the television?”
“Yep. We film it here and then it shows up on your television, just like Magic Mike.”
Broch grunted. “That picture wis full of lies.”
Catriona headed for the dressing room featuring Timmy’s name on the door, happy to find that the doorknob turned without resistance.
The lights had been left on inside, illuminating a back wall featuring an enormous mirror with a countertop and seating below it. The room was neat, with several rows of beauty products and makeup jars lining the counter, labels facing forward. A large bouquet of white gladioli sat in the corner on an enormous cement stand. Timmy clearly expected flowers to arrive on a regular basis.
On the wall to the left of the makeup area hung a dozen framed photos of Timmy dancing at different venues, as well as a smattering of plaques commemorating wins. He stood in most photos with hands held out in flourish, his trim, wiry body displayed in various stages of undress and wrapped in multiple colors of spandex.
Catriona opened and closed a row of three drawers running beneath the makeup bench. She found a few more half-filled cans of base makeup, nail clippers and other personal hygiene items. Nothing that looked like bath salts.
“I don’t know what I’m looking for,” she said, sliding the last drawer shut. “It doesn’t look like he does much in here except get pretty. I don’t see any snacks that might have been tampered with. He doesn’t horde food here.”
“Whit dae bath salts keek lik’?”
“Like a bunch of little crystals. Like big salt or little crumbly stone.”
Broch’s gaze locked on a photo featuring Timmy in heavy clown makeup, wearing a revealing, sparkly outfit. He reached for the photo.
“Wis he eatin’ them whin he wore this?” he asked, pulling the photo from the wall. As he did, a folded piece of paper fell from behind the photo to the ground.
Catriona stooped to grab the pink, lined paper and unfold it. It looked as if it had been torn from a small book, as tall and wide as her own outstretched palm. Loopy writing filled each line on one side. The bottom of the page also had a torn edge, as if someone had stripped off a hunk.
The contents started in the middle of a sentence rather than with a date, but the first-person account read like a diary entry.
She read aloud:
“T had the balls to sit there, not saying a word. It was humiliating. When I tried to get him to talk he laughed and told me it had all been fun and I needed to let it go. When I told him that wasn’t how I saw it, he said too bad. He—”
She flipped over the page to find it blank but for tiny lettering along the tear.
See how you like it.
“It stops there.”
“Dae ye think it’s important?”
“Could be. It could have been planted by the person who dosed him.”
Broch flipped up the other frames, inspecting the backs and shaking them as best he could without removing them. Nothing else fell.
Catriona studied the photo Broch had removed. “Let’s take this with us. Maybe it’s special.”
“Kin we ask Timmy if he kens aboot the note?”
She nodded. “Good idea. We need to go talk to Timmy.”
Back in the studio parking lot, Catriona pulled two baggies from the back of her Jeep and slipped the letter inside one and the small frame inside the other, hoping the police could pull fingerprints from one or both.
After she was done with them, of course.
They drove to the hospital where Timmy sat handcuffed to a bed, eyes downcast and lip pouted, recovering from his self-inflicted wounds.
The dance judge’s eyes sparked to life upon spotting Catriona in the hall, but an officer sitting outside the room rose from his chair to stop their progress. After a call to Sean for the obligatory string pulling, they were admitted to Timmy’s room for a quick visit.
“Oh Cat,” said Timmy as she entered, his wrist jerking against his cuffs. “Look what they did to my beautiful smile.”
He raised his upper lip, displaying the gap where his front tooth once stood and Catriona stole a glance at Broch. The Highlander kept his mouth shut.
“Hi Timmy.” She lay a hand on his.
“No touching,” barked the officer from the hallway.
“Sorry.”
Timmy gawked at Broch. “Why do you look familiar?”
Catriona sighed. “He’s the one who tackled you.”
Timmy’s eyes grew wide. “You knocked out my tooth!”
Broch grimaced. “Aye. Sorry.”
Timmy waved a hand at him. “No, no. You did what you had to do. Did I hurt you?”
Broch shook his head. “Ye fought lik’ a lynx.”
Timmy flopped his head back into his pillow. “I’m so sorry. You know I’d never do anything like this if I were in my right brain. I don’t have a violent bone in my body. It was the drugs. I don’t know how—”
“I know. That’s why we came to talk to you.” Catriona nodded to Broch and he held out the framed photo.
“That’s from my dressing room,” said Timmy.
“Right. This fell out from behind it. Do you recognize it?”
She handed him the bagged letter. Timmy took it with his uncuffed hand. “Can you put my glasses on?”
Catriona spotted a pair of reading glasses on the table beside her and placed them on Timmy’s face. She’d never noticed the freckles on his nose and cheeks before, but then again, she’d seen how much makeup he kept in his dressing room.
Timmy’s scowl deepened as he read. “I don’t understand. What is this?”
“I don’t know. It looks like a diary entry about you.”
“You think this is about me?”
“You don’t? It refers to the person she’s mad at as T.”
“How do you know it’s a she?”
Catriona shrugged. “Just guessing from the pink paper.”
He scoffed. “You clearly haven’t spent much time around male dancers.”
“It sounds to me like you jilted someone. Someone who thought his or her relationship with you was a little deeper than you imagined.”
He handed the bag back to Catriona. “Doesn’t ring any bells. Anyhow, I already gave Talia a list of everyone I work with or remember seeing naked in the last year. Someone from Sean’s office asked her to get it from me.”
Catriona turned the bag around to point at the torn edge of the blank side. “Here it says See how you like it. Does that make any sense to you? Did you dose someone? Even as a joke maybe?”
Timmy shook his head and turned his face to the side, pressing it into the pillow. “How could this happen to me?”
Catriona didn’t miss his evasive lack-of-answer. She scowled. “The girl you attacked is going to live.”
He whipped his head back to face her. “For certain? She’s out of the woods?”
She nodded. “Apparently. In case you were wondering.”
“Of course I was wondering. Talia told me there was hope but...oh thank god. So they can’t arrest me for murder?”
“No. Attempted murder is still on the table, though.”
He closed his eyes as if pained. “That’s still not good.”
“No. So it would behoove you to think about this note. Could it be from someone you spent time with?”
His eyes began to tear. “I don’t know. Can you leave it with me?”
“No. I can take a photo but I need to turn it over to the police. It might help them prove someone dosed you.”
Timmy grimaced. “Someone did. You know I’m always professional.”
“So I hear.”
“It’s true. And bath salts? Why would I take that trash drug? I’ve got a bag of molly back at the house. I’ve got five eight-balls of coke—” He gasped and grabbed her wrist, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Oh my god. I have those drugs at my house. If they find those, they’ll never believe I didn’t take bath salts.”
