Deadly Dancing Page 9

  If I was Brett and my sister died, I’d want to be put on her case. That’s assuming he worked with the police or FBI. But why wouldn’t he have his badge, and why would he be working as a dancer?

  Candi came over and was chatting away. She was finishing a conversation we had started a couple of months ago. I couldn’t concentrate on her words. My thoughts kept drifting to Brett.

  “Earth to Mars!” Candi waved a hand in my face then giggled. “Earth to Mars . . . that’s funny!”

  “Huh?”

  “I was asking what color you want,” she said.

  “Oh, you pick it out.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “Nothing, really. I just needed a pedicure. I do have a date tonight, but I don’t think he cares what my toes look like.”

  “Oh, believe me, they care,” she stated. “Guys may not pay attention to much, but when it comes to sexy toes, they get a charge from them.”

  “Sure, if you say so.”

  “I’m going to sexify your toes and you can call me tomorrow and tell me I was right.”

  “Deal,” I agreed, knowing I’d never have to make the call.

  I lounged back, watching Candi work. She was a perfectionist when it came to nails. Everything had to be trimmed, filed, buffed, and perfectly polished. Only then would she let you leave the chair.

  “You need to come and see me more often,” Candi urged. “You’ve been abusing your feet.”

  “How can you tell?” I asked. “They look fine to me.”

  “They’re not fine,” she insisted. “You have rough and dry feet, a callous, and your nails aren’t evenly shaped.”

  “I didn’t realize they were that bad.”

  She rubbed lotion on my feet and legs. It’s a good thing I shaved not too long ago.

  “Have you ever considered becoming a massage therapist?” I asked.

  “I’ve been told I have a nice, firm touch, but I like nails.”

  “If you ever decide to switch, I’ll be your first client.”

  I relaxed and let Candi work her magic. My eyes closed and a wave of exhaustion passed over me.

  * * *

  A hand pressed on my shoulder. “Mars,” Candi said.

  My eyes blinked open. “Huh? Oh! I must have fallen asleep,” I said with a large yawn. My eyes zoomed in on my toes. They were stunning. “Candi, this is amazing!”

  “I know. I’ve been practicing a new technique.”

  I admired the deep-purple paint. Both large toes were painted to resemble orchids on a Japanese painting. The finished look was tropical and exotic—poetry for toes.

  I gave her a hug and moved to the desk to pay for the service. I opened my wallet to find three dollars and change. I mentally smacked my head. I’d forgotten I didn’t have any money. Think! My eyes slid to the Viper. A crisp one hundred dollar bill was just sitting in the glove box not getting the love and attention it deserved.

  If I took the money, I’d be at the mercy of Brett, my brain tried to reason. I really didn’t have an option at this point, however. I took a deep breath, told the girl at the register I’d be right back, and heisted the money out of the car. A sticky note on the back of the bill caught my attention.

  Mars, just use it. – Brett

  It’s scary how he can predict me.

  I paid the girl at the register and walked back to the Viper, careful to avoid damaging the goods that might cost me dearly later.

  Maybe he wouldn’t notice the money was missing. I could sneak the money back into the glove box. It might work, but knowing Brett, he probably knows the c-number of the bill. There’d be no way I could get around that. A problem to solve later.

  I was near the jewelry store, so I called Jonathan for an update on the lockets.

  “Hi, Jonathan,” I greeted when he answered. “How are the lockets coming along?”

  “I’m almost done,” he replied. “Why don’t you come and take a look? I’m on my last couple. It won’t take me long to finish.”

  “I’m right around the corner. I’ll see you in a couple of minutes.”

  Jonathan was busy at his small work desk. The desk lamp was turned on as he worked with his engraver. The little tool made sounds that reminded me too much of the dentist, and I wished I had waited before coming.

  Jonathan acknowledged me with a nod then bent his head down to finish the locket. He had each locket in its own little box sitting on the counter for me to inspect. I trusted Jonathan completely, but he liked to make sure his work was inspected and approved before anything left his store.

  I ran a finger over one of the heart-shaped lockets. It was crafted out of sterling silver and had a small sapphire stone in the middle. On the back, it was engraved with Jonathan’s steady hand.

  He didn’t just write in block letters; it looked like formal script. The letters flowed in the tiny space. He was a genius with the engraver. The lockets were made to be worn either on a chain for a necklace or bracelet, or they could be put on a key chain. We would have the necklaces and key chains available at the party for the guests to choose.

  Jonathan finished the last locket and brought it to the counter. “What do you think?”

  “They’re perfect,” I replied.

  He smiled with satisfaction. He closed the boxes and placed them in a bag.

  “Should I charge them to the account?”

  “Yes, please,” I said. “Thanks again for making them so fast.”

  “Anytime,” he said. “Don’t forget to take the promotional cardboard cutout to plug the store at the dinner.”

  “What cardboard cutout?”

  He pointed over to the corner where a life-size poster cutout of Jonathan stood. He was dressed in a pinstriped suit and was holding a tray that overflowed with jewelry. A sign at the bottom announced: Need pleasure? Buy treasure.

  “Wow! Uh . . . that’s, um, nice. Are you sure you want me to take it?” I asked him.

  “You did say you were going to plug the store.”

  “I was thinking something smaller . . . like business cards.”

  Jonathan pursed his lips and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Okay.” I gave in, not wanting to offend. “I’ll take the cutout of you.”

  He smiled.

  I’ll have to put it in a corner where no one will see it.

  I carried the bag of lockets and the cutout of Jonathan to the car. Now I just needed to pick up the pictures Curtis had ordered. I shoved cutout Jonathan to the passenger’s side.

  I smiled as the Viper purred down the street. Testosterone car, drop-dead gorgeous man, and money in the glove box; a girl could get used to this. I peered over at cutout Jonathan and groaned.

  It didn’t take long for the cashier to find the photo order and bill it to the company account. I peeked at the photos before I left. It’d take me forever to cut these to the right shape and place them into the lockets. I’m a numbskull for trying this with hardly any time to spare.

  I gazed down at the young woman and man in the photo. They looked like they had the whole world ahead of them. Now they’re in their eighties and looking back at the world. I thought about the two men who had snuck into my life: one man I can’t get a straight answer from, and the other man has a short attention span.

  I drove back to the office and parked. I hope Emmy can help with the lockets.

  Jocelyn was on her way out. “Mars, did you ever get the number for that dancer at Longhorn’s? He hasn’t been there the last couple of nights.”

  “Uh, no,” I muttered. “It’s against company policy to give out a dancer’s phone number.”

  “That’s no good. Did you tell them we’re clients and need his phone number?”

  “They said you can leave a message for him and they’d make sure he gets it.”

  Her eyes perked. “Well, then,” she oozed. “I’ll go over there right now.” Jocelyn turned to her car but paused before she stepped in. “Who’s car is that?”

&nb
sp; “I’m borrowing it from a friend until mine is repainted.”

  “I’ve seen that car before at Longhorn’s. Who does it belong to?”

  “Um, well, funny story,” I tried to laugh, but only a strangled sound came out.

  “I don’t have time for a story,” she said, tapping her dagger nails on her BMW roof.

  “Oh, well, too bad,” I said.

  Her brown eyes glared. “You should have work done on your eyes,” she said. “You’re looking dreadful. I have a reputation to uphold. I can’t have ugly people working for me.” And with that, Jocelyn peeled out of the parking lot, leaving me to inhale her exhaust.

  I walked into the office. “Emmy, do I look dreadful to you?”

  She tilted her head. “I wouldn’t say dreadful. But you seem stressed and it’s giving you dark circles under your eyes.”

  I pulled out my compact mirror and inspected my eyes. Dark, crescent-shaped moons only my dad would love were sucking up serious territory under my eyes.

  “Emmy, what am I going to do?” I asked. “I have a date tonight.”

  “Hmm, not to worry. Now that Jocelyn’s gone for the day, we can fix you up.”

  Emmy snatched the phone and called her cousin Desiree.

  “Desiree will be here in ten minutes,” she informed me. “She’s a student at the beauty school and has been bugging me to find her someone to practice on.”

  “Desiree knows what she’s doing, right?” I asked.

  “Of course. She’s been through two weeks already. She’s done amazing things with my mom.”

  “Okay. I guess I can’t look any worse.”

  I handed the bag of lockets and photos to Emmy. “Will you be able to help me with these?”

  “Sure. Why don’t we start now and see how many we can get done. Curtis could probably help, too,” she said, buzzing Curtis to come to the front.

  Curtis stalled when he spied the lockets and photos spread out on Emmy’s desk. His eyes flicked toward me. “Tell me you didn’t!”

  “I thought it’d be a good idea,” I said. “If you don’t have time, I can do them tonight and tomorrow. I should be able to finish in time.”

  “No,” he sighed. “I can help. I’m almost finished with the list anyway. Everything else can be done tomorrow.”

  Curtis pulled up a chair. We cut and inserted pictures into the lockets. After the first couple, a growing ache started in my neck and a cramp developed in my hand. I decided to stretch and retrieve the cardboard cutout from the car.

  When I returned, Curtis blinked with wide eyes. I could see his lips moving as he read the sign.

  He arched his brow. “What is that?”

  “I told Jonathan we would plug the store if he could get the lockets to us in time.”

  “Did you ever think about getting business cards from the guy?”

  I slid him a narrow glance and set Jonathan near the back wall.

  Desiree pranced through the door with her beautician’s tackle box. She looked the part. Her makeup was a little heavy but perfectly executed. Her bleach-blonde hair was styled and clipped. She wore tight, colorful clothes that showed off her perky breasts, which matched her perky attitude.

  “Hi,” she said, beaming. “Who’s going to be my victim?”

  Did she have to use that word?

  “Do you have time to get us all in?” Emmy asked.

  Desiree jumped up and down like she’d won a year’s supply of makeup.

  “Yes!” she exclaimed. “Emmy, I’ll start with you. You have big pores that need some help.”

  She pulled Emmy’s honey-blonde hair into a ponytail and draped a towel around her neck, clipping it in the back. “I’ll take off your makeup first,” she informed Emmy.

  I watched for a little while, but the lockets weren’t going to finish themselves. I picked up the scissors and started snipping.

  Snipping the pictures of the happy couple was getting to me. Thoughts raced through my head that normally weren’t a concern. What if I never get married? Will I be happy by myself? I figured I’d have to be. I’m not married now and I’m happy. Men don’t secure happiness. If anything, they tend to do the opposite. I pondered some of the great tragic romances like Romeo and Juliet, Rhett and Scarlett, and Bonnie and Clyde. I wonder if Rhett ever returned to Scarlett.

  Emmy relaxed with cucumbers on her eyelids. Desiree threw a towel over Curtis, wrapping it around his neck.

  “I have dry skin, but watch out for my T-zone. It’s oilier than a greased-up mechanic. Oh, and I have a date tonight, so make my skin glow,” he said.

  “Mars, you never said who you were going out with tonight,” Emmy said. “Is it Evan?”

  “No, it’s not Evan,” I answered.

  “You can forget it,” Curtis mumbled under the warm towel Desiree had draped across his face. “I already tried to figure it out earlier; she’s as bristly as my Aunt Giddy’s five o’clock shadow.” He peeked out from his towel. “But she’s driving his Viper. It’s parked outside.”

  Emmy sat straight up, peeling the cucumbers off her blue eyes to look out the window. “It must be the other guy.”

  “What?” I looked up from the locket.

  “You’re seeing the other guy,” she said with a smirk. “My cousin saw you bring in a hot guy to the hospital right before you completely made out with Evan only a few minutes later.”

  I groaned. Curtis sucked in air, flinging off his towel to gape.

  I should have known. Emmy has about a hundred cousins that all live and work in the city. She conveniently has a family network of spies. We’ve worked together so long that they all know me, but it’s impossible for me to know all of them. I only have a dozen memorized.

  “Was your cousin at the front desk?”

  “Yes.” Emmy said with a laugh. “I’ve been dying to ask you about it!”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “You at least have to tell me about Evan,” she insisted, and Curtis nodded his head in agreement. “I imagine he could make a girl weak in the knees. He’s always getting girls left and right, so he has to have something other than just looks. How was the kiss?”

  “I was waiting for Brett in the hospital. That’s the other guy,” I explained. “Evan saw me in the waiting room and wanted me to walk him back to the truck, and then he kissed me. It was perfectly innocent.”

  “It wasn’t perfectly innocent according to the description my cousin gave.”

  “Fine. He made me weak in the knees . . . happy?”

  Desiree sighed, wrapping a towel around my neck. “I’d give anything to have a man make me feel that way,” she said. “The guys I go out with have a one-track mind. It’s always to their satisfaction, never to mine.” She dabbed some white stuff on my face.

  “I can guarantee Evan has a one-track mind too. He’s just excellent along the way,” I replied.

  “I wish Evan was playing for the other team,” Curtis said. “His blue eyes make me sweat.”

  I blushed under the white junk. My face tingled. “Is this stuff supposed to tingle?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Desiree said. She read the bottle and worry spread across her face. “Perhaps we should take it off.”

  She blotted most of it off and then placed a cool washcloth on my face to wipe off the rest.

  Curtis gawked.

  “What?”

  “Uh, well, it’ll be okay . . . I think,” Desiree muttered, digging through her box. “I’m sure I have something in here that will help.”

  The sound of screeching tires made us stop and turn toward the window. A barrage of bullets shattered the window, screaming through it.

  “Get down!” I bellowed.

  Chapter 9

  We dropped to the floor as an onslaught of bullets terrorized the back wall. The attack stopped nearly as fast as it had started. The car peeled out of the parking lot and raced down the street, leaving us with an eerie silence that made my skin crawl with uncertainty and fear.
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br />   “What the hell just happened?” Curtis shrieked.

  “Is everyone okay?” I asked louder than I meant to. The deafening sound of the gun and shattering glass left my ears numb.

  My eyes shot around the room. The front window was gone except for a few shards still wedged in the frame. Bullet holes riddled the back wall, filing cabinets, desks, and the cutout of Jonathan.

  Curtis grasped his chest and hyperventilated behind a desk. Desiree, pale faced, fell in next to him.

  “Emmy?” I asked.

  There wasn’t a response. I ran to her desk and peered behind it. Emmy was sprawled on her back, unconscious. I checked for blood, but I couldn’t find any. She must have fainted again.

  I yanked a paper bag out of the cabinet for Curtis to breathe into and then called the police. We huddled on the floor, waiting for what seemed like an hour, but in all likelihood it was closer to five minutes.

  A wailing ambulance pulled in first, followed by the police.

  Evan and his partner, Gordy, rushed inside. Gordy ran to Curtis and Desiree and assisted them. Evan fixed his eyes on me before kneeling beside Emmy.

  A second ambulance pulled in. Evan released Emmy into their care. I held my breath as he turned and walked toward me.

  “Are you okay?” He looked into my eyes, searching for signs of shock.

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  “What happened to your face?”

  I touched my face. I had completely forgotten about it.

  Desiree was on the brink of tears. “I don’t know,” she cried, handing Evan the bottle. “I put this on her and she said her face tingled.”

  “Come with me,” Evan said. “You may have a chemical burn.”

  He wrapped his hand on my upper arm to help me to the ambulance. I inhaled a sharp breath as a shock ran through me. Evan quickly released me and inspected my arm. Tears streaked down my face. The salt in the tears stung my face and I cried more.

  “You’re okay,” Evan reassured me. “Come to the truck and I’ll get you fixed up.”

  He put his arm around my waist, steered me to the truck, and helped me inside. He sat me down and cut the sleeve off my shirt. Blood trickled down my arm. My stomach took a giant leap.