Shall We Dance?

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  “You’re a great cook. Why do you sound so nervous?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” But part of her couldn’t help but dwell on the man she’d seen by her car at the bookstore. What if she saw him again? What if he had been one of the men who’d attacked her?

  She was almost tempted to ask Dylan to double-check that they were still incarcerated, but all that would do was make him worry about her yet again.

  Almost worse would be if she did ask, he did double-check, and then discovered that they were still very much locked away. Then she would have to come to terms with the fact that her fears were causing her to see problems lurking in every corner.

  After another few seconds had passed, she heard him click his pen a couple of times. “Do you want me to get you out of it, Jen?” he asked slowly. “Is that why you called?”

  “No,” she replied quickly. That was Dylan. Always ready to save her. Worse, she knew she’d probably started to rely on him saving her, too. Far too much. “I’m going to do it. It’s just a big step, you know?” Yes, that was better. Far better for him to think that she just needed encouragement.

  “It’s a big step, but it’s the right one. I promise.” His voice warmed. “Jennifer, I promise. No one in Bridgeport, Ohio, cooks better than you. And from what Traci tells me, those ladies are desperate for your help. They’re going to love everything.”

  Though she knew he was trying hard to boost her confidence, there was probably a bit of truth to it. “Shannon did say that they could barely heat up pizza without burning it.”

  “It’s amazing that they haven’t starved,” he joked. “So, what are you going to make?”

  “Nothing special.”

  After relaying the menu, he moaned. “I hope you’re going to make some for us, too.”

  “Maybe, but don’t you have your class tonight?” The last time he’d had a dance class he’d stayed downtown and gotten dinner at Paxton’s before heading over to his class.

  “I do. Hey, how about I help you bring everything over? I could stop by the house and help you carry everything to the car.”

  She stopped herself just as she was about to accept. “Thanks, but I’ve got this.”

  “Sure?”

  “I think so.” She definitely needed to be able to handle this. “Thanks for picking up. I guess I just needed someone to talk this over with. Who knows? Maybe I’ll see you over there tonight.”

  Dylan didn’t say anything for a moment, then said at last, “I’m proud of you, Jen. I know you can do this.”

  “Thanks.” When she hung up the phone again, she paced for a few moments, then started pulling out flour, shortening, lemons, and about another two dozen ingredients. Then she put on some music and her favorite apron and got to work. Right now, all she had to do was cook. If there was anything that she knew how to do, it was that.

  When she started measuring, she repeated her brother’s words over and over. “I can do this.”

  By the fourth or fifth time, she almost believed it.

  * * *

  She got to the dance studio five minutes before six. In a large canvas bag she’d found in a back closet she had loaded a hot casserole, a side dish of green beans with almonds, a loaf of bread, and a plastic cake holder with a really beautiful pie inside.

  So far, the visit could be deemed a success, at least from her point of view. She got out of the car without having to convince herself that she was going to be fine.

  She also hadn’t even looked around the area much, just to be sure no one was watching her. That was something to be proud of.

  Now all she had to do was ring the doorbell, deliver the food, and hope that Traci hadn’t been lying when she’d said that she’d pay Jennifer right away.

  But still she hesitated, wondering who was going to answer the door. What if it wasn’t one of the girls? What if it was a strange man? What if . . .

  A dog barked behind her. She turned, saw a man jogging toward her on the sidewalk, a yellow Labrador on a leash. When she met his eyes, she turned abruptly and pushed the button next to the door.

  In this case, it seemed the devil she didn’t know was better than the devil she did.

  When the door opened, she was greeted by three women instead of just one.

  Traci rushed forward and picked up the bag. “Jennifer! You’re our hero! Come on in.”

  Smiling at the women, she followed Traci and then laughed as they all looked like she’d brought them a special gift.

  “Hi again,” said Shannon. “This is our sister Kimber.”

  Jennifer smiled at Kimber before turning her attention back to Shannon. The last time she’d seen Shannon, the woman had been wearing jeans and had her hair in a ponytail.

  Tonight, she looked far more glamorous. She had on a dark-gray wrap dress that was slightly clingy and black heels. Her hair was longer than Jennifer had imagined and it fell to the almost the middle of her back in soft curls. No wonder she’d sensed something was going on between Dylan and Shannon!

  Feeling all their eyes studying her and the tote bag, Jennifer focused back on her purpose for being there. “So, I have dinner for you.”

  “I can’t wait to see it. It smells so good,” Traci said.

  Picking up the tote bag, Jennifer followed the other three up two flights of stairs to the living area. It was a combination of industrial and modern style, with a good dose of girliness mixed in. Purses, clothes, and shoes were scattered all over the floor.

  Looking around, she said, “How is it living above a dance studio?”

  “Really loud when all the squealing high school girls are here, but otherwise, we’re getting used to it,” Kimber said. “And used to living with each other.”

  Dylan had told her a little bit about how the sisters had recently discovered each other. And, how they’d all decided to relocate to a new place for one year in order to get to know each other.

  “I moved in with my brother about two years ago. It’s an adjustment, isn’t it?”

  “It is, but so far, so good,” Shannon said. She handed Jennifer a glass of iced tea. “Especially tonight. We’re going to eat like kings.”

  “Or queens,” Kimber corrected.

  Jennifer grinned. “You three are making me feel pretty good—and a little worried,” she admitted as she pulled out the Rubbermaid container. “It’s just a casserole, beans, and a pie.”

  Traci opened up the plastic lid. “Look at that pie. It’s too bad you won’t be able to eat any of this, Kimber.”

  “I decided I’d rather run on the treadmill for an extra hour instead of denying myself everything. I’m going to have a couple of bites.” Looking at the dish of beans, she plucked one off the top. “I’ll eat these, too.”

  “I hate to be rude, but I need to eat right away. I’ve got a class to teach in thirty,” Shannon said as she pulled out plates. “Jennifer, would you like to join us? You’re welcome to, or even hang out here for a while.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t think Dylan is ready for me to watch him dance. I’m planning to be gone before he arrives.” She wanted to show him—and herself—that she could do this errand just fine, too.

  “So you know it’s your brother’s private lesson tonight?”

  “I do.” Though it was tempting to say something about how her brother had gone from complaining about his fantasy football bet to planning his Friday nights around his class, she didn’t say any more.

  “Does he talk about it much?” Kimber asked as she spooned a small portion of the casserole on her plate.

  “Not a lot.” Jennifer didn’t want to embarrass Shannon or her brother. But she did smile at Traci, who looked like she was struggling to keep a straight face. “But some.”

  Shannon’s eyes got big. “He does? What does—” She stopped herself abruptly. “Never mind. Forget I asked that.”


  “My lips are sealed.” Knowing that Shannon needed to eat and wanting to be gone before her brother arrived, she took a step toward the door. “You know what? I think I’m going to head out.”

  “You don’t have to,” Shannon said. “I won’t even talk about Dylan if you don’t want.”

  “No, um, it’s just that I wanted to do this right, you know? Be professional and deliver the food.”

  Kimber put down her fork. “Jennifer, I get that making us a meal was a job and all. But, as far as I’m concerned, you could move in here. This dinner is so good.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” She picked up her tote bag. “Thanks for this. It, well, it helped me a lot. More than you can imagine.”

  Shannon walked to her side. “You’re welcome. Here, I’ll walk you out.” She handed her an envelope. “Oh, and here’s the money for tonight’s meal. I almost forgot!”

  Jennifer took the envelope gratefully and followed her down the narrow stairs, feeling like she was floating. She’d done it.

  “I’m sure we’ll be calling you again,” Shannon said. “Actually, I’ll get this ball rolling. How about you make us a meal one night a week?”

  “I could do that.”

  “Great. I’ll email you and we can devise some type of schedule and payment plan.”

  “I’ll look forward to that,” she said as they stopped at the door. “Night.”

  “Night,” Shannon called out behind her.

  Jennifer quickened her steps, got in her car, and then turned it on.

  And she was feeling pretty good, until she realized that her car had been unlocked.

  And that there was a note lying on the back seat with her name on it.

  CHAPTER 16

  “The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.”

  —Alan Watts

  Dylan couldn’t get to the dance studio fast enough. He ran red lights, passed a vehicle in a no-passing zone, and pretty much committed another half-dozen traffic violations while speeding through Bridgeport.

  The moment he arrived, Dylan double-parked in front of a red Suburban, and then ran over to his sister.

  She was sitting almost motionless. The windows were up, the doors were locked, and the engine was off. It was hard to tell with only the streetlights casting light, but he was pretty sure she was crying. She was in a bad way.

  He was going to need some help.

  Looking up at the studio, he pulled out his phone and called Traci. She picked up on the second ring.

  “Dylan, what’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be dancing with my sister?”

  “Are you home?”

  Her voice turned all business. “Yep. Do you need me?”

  “Yeah. I’m in front of the studio. I need your help with my sister.”

  “I’m walking downstairs now. What happened with Jennifer? She was just here.”

  “Can you come on out?” He knew he needed to fill her in, but he wanted to get Jennifer out of that car. It was barely twenty degrees outside.

  “Sure. Um, what about Shannon?”

  He was definitely not used to mixing work with his personal life, and here his family, work, and Shannon were all intertwined. “Trace, could you tell her that I’m sorry and that I’m not trying to blow her off, but we’ve got a situation?”

  “Sure. I’ll be right down.” Her voice was even more serious.

  “Thanks.”

  She hung up right after, which he was appreciative of. Traci really was just like one of the guys.

  Sliding his phone back in his pocket, he approached Jennifer once again. She was sitting stiff in the driver’s seat. Now both of her hands were clenching the steering wheel.

  Damn. She looked as bad as she did those first few days after her attack. What had happened?

  Realizing he was feeling almost as stressed as he did two years ago, he reminded himself that she wasn’t half-naked and bleeding on the floor of a concrete parking garage. Whatever had happened hadn’t been that. And if it hadn’t been that, then they were going to be able to get through this, too.

  Feeling better, Dylan exhaled, rolled back his shoulders, and then gently knocked on Jennifer’s window with two of his knuckles.

  Jennifer flinched and closed her eyes.

  His heart started racing. What the hell had happened?

  “Jen?” he said. “Jennifer, it’s me. It’s Dylan,” he added, knocking on her window again. “Unlock the door.”

  He was vaguely aware of the door to the dance studio opening behind him as he waited and watched his sister.

  At last, she looked at him. Her pupils were dilated and she looked pale. Her lips were slightly parted.

  She was in shock.

  He crouched down and raised his voice. “Jennifer, open the door. You’re worrying me.”

  When she looked just beyond him, her eyes widened.

  He looked over his shoulder. Traci was standing at his shoulder. She was dressed in a loose sweater, jeans, and boots. He’d bet money that she had put her gun in the middle of her back. She was standing alert, looking both at him and the surrounding areas.

  Just beyond her was Shannon. She had on a dress and heels and an open coat thrown over her shoulders. She was watching them, concern etching her features. Just beyond them was a man walking a dog. The man was bundled up in a hat, gloves, and ski jacket. There was no way to tell how old he was, but at this point, Dylan didn’t want to worry about anyone in the perimeter.

  “Come on, Jennifer,” he said again. “Don’t make me break into this car. We don’t have money for that.”

  Finally, that did it. She slowly moved her finger to the button on the side of the door and pushed. It clicked right open.

  With a silent prayer of thanks, he opened her door and pulled her into his arms. She remained stiff for a few seconds, then burst into tears. “Honey, what happened? What set you off? Did you get scared again?”

  She pulled away, her eyes frantic. “No. It’s not me.”

  He ran his hands along her arms. “What happened, then? Are you hurt?” Grasping at straws, he murmured, “Did someone hit—”

  “Dylan, one of them . . . one of them was here!”

  Even though his body went on alert, he made sure to keep his voice easy. “Honey, you’re going to have to help me out here. One of who?”

  “There’s a note! I locked the car, but it was unlocked when I got in,” she continued, each word tumbling over the next. “And then . . . then.” She hiccupped and pointed to the back seat. “I know it was one of them. I know it.”

  He stood up, looked at what she was pointing to, and then just about lost it. There really was an envelope sitting on the cushion of the back seat. jennifer lange was written in neat, dark block letters on the center of it.

  “Lucky!” he yelled.

  “Right here,” Traci said. “What’s going on?”

  “We need a squad car. Fingerprints. Pictures. And I need Jennifer inside.” Reaching out he clasped his sister’s hand. It was ice-cold. “She’s been out here for a while. I think she’s in shock and needs to warm up.”

  “Okay . . . Hey, Shannon, come over here a sec.”

  When Shannon approached, Dylan felt her worry as much as he saw it shining bright in her eyes. Making a decision, he strode to her side. “Honey, could you do me a favor and take my sister inside? Maybe get her some tea or something?”

  “Sure. Of course.” She pressed a hand on his upper chest, right over his heart. “You okay?”

  He wasn’t. He was angry as hell and freaking out that the men who’d damaged his sister so bad could be back—and might even put Shannon, Traci, and their sister Kimber in danger, too.

  But he had enough experience to keep his emotions held down tight. “I’m just fine. D
on’t worry about me.” He covered her hand on his chest with his own for a second, letting her know how much he appreciated her touch and concern before moving out of her reach. “I’ll fill you in later about what happened.”

  Shannon nodded, giving him a shaky smile before leaning toward his sister. “Hey, Jennifer, how about you come in and have a slice of that amazing pie you made? I was just about to have a piece. I’ll make us some tea, too.”

  Though she still looked to be in shock, Jennifer stood up. She was shaking but she stepped forward.

  Though his heart wanted to do this later, Dylan’s training kicked in. “Hey, Jen, before you go up. Tell me again what you noticed.”

  She nodded. “I got in the car. But as soon as I sat down I realized that I hadn’t had to unlock the door. And you know I always lock the car. Always.”

  He nodded, well aware that both Shannon and Traci were listening to her account as well. “And then?”

  “I was about to put on my seat belt, going over it again. It didn’t make sense, but I started thinking that maybe I didn’t click the lock hard enough because my hands were full or something.”

  “Makes sense.”

  She released a ragged sigh. “I thought so, too . . . until I saw that note. And then it all came together. I’ve been feeling like someone’s been watching me the last couple of days. I’d told myself that it was just a natural reaction, on account that I’m finally going places by myself. And I thought I saw one of the men . . .”

  “When was this?”

  Traci stepped closer. “Get a handle on this, boss.”

  He clenched his hands but tried to contain himself. “Sorry.”

  “Dylan, what would you have done if I said that I thought I saw him? You know how scared I was. You would have thought I was seeing things. I thought I was seeing things.” She looked at Traci. “But seeing that note, I realized that I haven’t been.” Tears filled her eyes again. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Carpenter’s coming,” Traci said to him. “Hey, Shannon, you and Kimber help get Jennifer inside, ’kay?”

  “Sure.”