“Girl! You are looking good up there.” Mo and Linc hugged as everyone gathered around. Everyone hugged and patted the tumbler. Mo thought the already slender man looked as if he’d lost a lot of weight in a short time. His eyes looked sunken but he tried hard to put on a good front. Mo wasn’t fooled in the least.
“Linc we’ve all been so worried about you. I wish you’d gotten in touch.”
“Aw, I had to be by myself for a while. But Will has been staying with me. I wanted to call you, Mo, but I just didn’t think I could even talk.” His voice broke a bit and he quickly gave her a hug, his giant lanky frame hunched over as he pressed his face in her hair. He collected himself. “I sure have missed all a y’all.” He sniffed and looked a little sheepish.
“So you back or what?” Trollie asked.
“I wanted to see you all before I go to Cleveland. The police cleared me to leave town. I signed up for the year at Cleveland College. Gonna catch you for Europe next summer.”
“Say it ain’t so, Linc!” Deb shouted breaking through the crowd. “We can’t do the show without you. You’re our spirit!” She wrapped her arms around him. Shouts of agreement took a moment to die down.
“You all don’t need me. You’re the best in the business. I need a break with everything…gotta get my degree. I’m not getting any younger.”
“He’s all of twenty two!” Mo had her arm around his waist. He squeezed her shoulder. “We’re all so sorry to see you go Linc. But you’ll look great in a suit. Have you seen Roddy?”
“He see Roddy now!” Roddy broke through the crowd. “We all wish you good luck with the school. Don’t let me down on next summer. Paris! Roma! Oh, Si! Stockholm.”
“Can’t wait for Stockholm, home.” Linc and Roddy embraced.
“Stockholm is a beautiful city.” No one looked at Trollie. “Well, it is.”
“Look, Will’s waiting out front and I need to fill out something for Roddy here. Hey Boss, got my check? I’m a full time student now. I need all the money I can get.”
“Linc, please stay in touch. Come on up to Montreal, when we’re on hiatus. We’d all love to see you.” Mo gave him a hug and tugged at a dreadlock. “You better not bale on next summer or we’ll all go down to Cleveland and kick some accounting ass!”
“You all been like family to me. I’m sorry I didn’t…couldn’t. I gotta go. Roddy?” Everyone’s eyes watered with Linc’s. Hugs and kisses were given. Eyes wiped. Even Claude came down and shook his hand. Mo looked up and noticed Misha checking out the tandem. She gave Linc a last hug.
“Everybody back to work! Come with me my boy.” Roddy guided Linc away. The crowd dispersed. Mo watched Linc go with tears in her eyes. She had a feeling Linc might not be back. She could see the pain in his eyes. His tone. Even his posture seemed somehow wilted. But maybe if he kept his mind busy…” She sniffled. The tears rolled down her cheeks. She felt a hand on her shoulder and knew it was Zack before she even turned around. He pulled out a handkerchief and gently dabbed at her tears.
“He’s a really good guy.” Her voice quivered. “He didn’t deserve such pain.”
“No one does,” Zack said simply. He handed her the handkerchief. “He’s young. He’ll survive it. Seems like he’s got the right idea about school. Think he’ll follow through?”
“Oh, he will. He’s a busy bee kind of guy. Always has to be doing. It might be just going through the motions at first, but I bet he’ll find himself into it before long. He’s got that kind of energy. Can’t keep him down. Thanks for the hanky. I guess I better get back to work.” She gave him a half hearted smile.
Zack watched her wind her way up a red silk to the platform. Her superb athletic body making the climb seem so easy. He clutched the handkerchief in his hand and thought about how pretty her unmade up face was as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes. A flash of guilt reminded him of the reason for those tears. He watched her swing out and grasp Claude’s strong wrists. How he wished he could catch her high in the air. How he wished they could fly together. He was certain they could soar.
Later in the day, after rehearsals, most of the performers went to relax or eat before getting ready for the show. Riggers were checking equipment one last time. The set designers argued about reworking the stage levels. Things tended to change a bit as the bugs were worked out. Zack looked up. Mo was talking to Misha. Claude had sauntered off ignoring him several minutes before. He looked around at the amazing setting. He watched the pyrotechnicians place their wares, checking wires and fuses. The lighting crew tested and retested the different colored spotlights. He was really enjoying the work. Just being there and watching everything that went into producing the amazing show. It helped him take his mind off the situation with Ray.
Zack had been deeply saddened by the realization that his close friend, a man he’d trusted with his life, was corrupt. Perhaps viciously so. But Zack was a realist who adapted to the news and could only hope that he himself would be cleared in time. In his heart he grieved for the man he knew Ray had once been. He wasn’t sure Al Simpson would look into the information he’d given him, but he thought there was a pretty good chance he would. Al had connections. Though retired from the CPD, he had a vast network of friends, stoolies, people who owed favors and others he could utilize if he wanted to look into Bull Shaughnessy’s dealings with Ray. And Al was smart. Smart enough keep Bull in the dark. Al had proven his entire career he was the smartest guy in Chicago law enforcement. Personality notwithstanding, it was Zack’s opinion that Al was the only one who could bring Bull down. Funny that the disagreeable cop seemed to be the only one Zack felt he could trust with this.
His head jerked up. Mo stood on the platform looking down at him. Misha was flipping off the net. “Hey, Detective, you look like your daydreaming down there.”
“Just wondering if you’re just going to stay up there ‘til the show starts. Me, I’m hungry. I’m not getting paid to starve so you can play footsie with your devil of a husband.”
“Just trying to make you jealous,” she teased. “You must be bored out of your mind, Zack. Come up here and check things out from a different perspective. I promise you’ll be wanting in on the act.”
“I tend to like my feet on the ground,” Zack shouted up at her. “I’ll leave the flying to you.”
“I didn’t know you were so soft. I would think a tough guy like you wouldn’t be afraid of anything.” Mo grabbed a trapeze, swung out and flipped herself into a sitting position. “I could stay up here all night. Come on Zack. Just up on the platform.”
“Only if you promise to come down in time to relax a while before the show.” He headed to the ladder not waiting for the promise. She’d be too revved up to relax and would barely eat. The narrow ladder was a little awkward being rope and hard on the hands. It didn’t bother Mo’s hands for she generally climbed up the silk for the added workout, as if she needed it. It was startling how casually these people could just do something like that. Plus she wore thin leather gloves for practice and rehearsal. They covered only half her fingers and wore out within days. It was a look Zack tried not to think of for fear of distraction.
She had landed back onto the lower platform with a light thud to meet him. He stepped onto the platform and looked all around. He was forty feet in the air. He wasn’t afraid of heights but the platform did suddenly seem less stable than it appeared from the floor of the coliseum. He took in the view. “It is a different perspective. Your right, thanks a lot, now about dinner…”
Mo took a tandem trapeze from its berth. “Now, Detective, just a little swing.”
“Oh, no! No way. If you think I’m getting on that…”
“Come on, Detective Burnham, just a little swing. You played on swings as a kid; this is almost the same thing.” She pulled her lips into a coaxing grin, raising her eyebrows. He felt that clutch in his chest. The same one that had become so frequent he should have been used to it by now.
“I never played on a swi
ng forty feet up. I did fall on my head from ten feet up off of monkey bars when I was eight. I’ve spent my life since then trying to avoid another concussion.”
“So that explains a few things.” She laughed. “Take off your jacket. Here,” she reached up and loosened his tie,” get rid of this.”
“If I’d known you were going to undress me I would’a tried this sooner.” Zack teased as she pointed at his shoes.
“Take those off. Glad to see you’ve gotten your sense of humor back. Socks off. If you fall just kick your legs out so your ass hits the net. You’re a big, strong guy. All you have to do is hang on.” She positioned herself in front of one half of the tandem. Offering him the other, she took his hand and placed it on the bar. Zack swallowed at the touch of her hand. He looked down at the net to avoid her eyes. His heart beat a little too fast. She placed her other hand on the bar.
“We’re just going to swing back and forth and land on the other platform. Don’t try to make the platform until I say. Give yourself a little thrust off with me. It doesn’t have to be hard. When we get to the platform, grab the rail if you start to lose your balance. If you can’t make the platform I’ll pull you in.”
“This is crazy, I can’t do this.” Zack had both hands on the bar. His face was flushed with the excitement of the risk and being so close to Mo in her territory. He looked down and wondered at her ability to spend so much time hurling herself through the air. He looked at her. Her small full lips were formed in a daring little smile. Her eyes teased him.
“You can do it. I bet you can do anything you set your mind to. Hold on. Now.” He held tight and pushed off swinging beside her. He felt the tension on his strong arms. They swung forward toward the other platform. Zack feared he couldn’t make the platform but with some awkwardness managed to land. “See, simple. I knew you could do it. Now that you’ve shown you can land, once more.”
They pushed off again. Zack copied her movements with his quick eye and they swung smoothly back and forth a few times. Then Mo thrust up a leg and caught it on the bar. Before he knew it he had done the same. “Glad I got into a stretching routine,” he chuckled nervously.
“Now the other leg.” Before the words were out of her mouth her other knee was over the bar and she hung suspended, her long braid hanging down.
Zack had a little trouble with the other leg due to his trousers. And it had been a long time since those monkey bars. But he managed and hung upside down beside Mo. They looked at each other and laughed. “I’ve always wondered what you think about up here. Now I know. Surviving!”
Mo laughed. “I think about the show. I think about my laundry. I think about pizza. Same kind of stuff everyone else thinks about. Just think about it up in the air. It’s a job. I love it, it’s a wonderful job, but I’m not up here solving the riddle of the universe. Mostly I focus on what I’m doing. What my by body is capable of and how to make it better.” Zack finally let go with his hands and hung entirely by his knees. “Good. Relax. It doesn’t really take that much strength to move yourself. Just a little…” she gave a subtle jerk of her body. He waited until they reversed and timed his thrust with hers. “Just hang, Zack. It’s relaxing.” She ran a hand down his arm as if to calm him. Her touched seemed to seep into his skin and fill his bloodstream. He suddenly needed but could not find a deep breath. He looked at her. She was studying him. He felt as vulnerable as he ever had been. Not to the height, but to the sensation that seized him at her touch.
“. I don’t think I could just hang up here and wax philosophical myself.” He observed her perfectly toned body. Hard and soft. Her skin so smooth as it clung tightly to the carved muscles beneath. Her skin was as luminous as her dark eyes were deep pools of emotion. They looked at each other and smiled a little shyly. Zack cleared his throat. Mo fixated on the bar.
“How are your knees?” she asked.
“Okay. But the bloods rushing to my head. I don’t know how you can concentrate like this.”
“You get used to it like anything else. Hands on the bar. Good.” In one smooth move he’d followed her motion and hung by his arms again. “Now a little more thrust to land and …” They were on the platform. Zack caught the rail. For a moment he felt the wind had gone out of him. But he straightened when he felt her hand on his shoulder. He laughed and looked into her eyes. Her eyes smiled back into his as they stood a moment. “Different perspective, huh?” Zack’s heart beat hard. He didn’t mention that he hadn’t noticed anything but her. Or that he could have flown with her all night.
Seven
Mo wished she could soak in a tub for a long time. It saved time to get ready in the dressing room but there were no bath tubs. Her shoulder was a little tight and the massage from Crystal McCleary had given some relief but she still felt like laying in a warm bath for hours. The show had gone well. Now she had to get herself moving for the late night fete Roddy and Luciana were throwing for the Whitneys. She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.
The dressing room was almost deserted. She sat at her dressing table and slathered cream on her face. She had been offered her own private dressing room upon becoming the star of La Cirque du Celestial but it had seemed too prima donna for her taste. Besides she liked the busy bustle before a show. She liked the camaraderie with the women even with the occasional spats and fits of jealousy. She knew most of the women envied her situation, but generally it was a friendly environment. She herself had envied Luciana at one time. She hoped she wouldn’t try to hang on as long as Luciana had. To the detriment of the show. She hoped she would be able to accept and get on with her life when the time came. She was twenty six. She might have ten years, with luck. Without major injuries.
She looked around at all the flowers she’d been sent. And the usual bouquet Misha had given her, picked up from the arena floor. She wondered for a moment that he didn’t come down to see Linc. They hadn’t been close but seemed to like each other. She looked at the clock and shrugged. She reached for her mineral foundation. Best stop dawdling she thought as the last of the other performers went out the door.
Zack waited outside the dressing room and figured everyone was out but Mo. He leaned against the wall across from her dressing room door and glanced at his watch. He knew she might be longer than usual because she had asked for Crystal McCleary complaining her shoulder felt tight. The masseuse had come and gone giving Zack a come hither look and touching his hand ever so lightly as she said good night. Fortunately Mo was generally pretty quick about putting herself together. Not so much a drugstore lady he thought. He liked her basic, unfussy look. Especially when contrasted with the extreme make up of the show. Not that that wasn’t cause for intrigue! Especially the way the costumes fit.
He was lost in his thoughts on that topic when he heard a clang down the hall. He knew the prop crews were making adjustments and getting set up for tomorrow’s practice and rehearsal. He heard the whirr of vacuum cleaners and waxers. But the clang had come from the opposite direction. Down the corridor that led to the rear exit. He had already cleared the area and Lourdes Garcia had also done a sweep. He straightened at another clang and moved toward the corridor. His hair bristled on his neck. He turned into the low lit corridor and looked around. Suddenly he saw a shadow dashing up on a catwalk that serviced electrical closets. “Hey! Who’s up there?” He thought he heard a quick intake of breathe from the catwalk. “Stop screwing around and come down here right now.” He pulled out his gun and moved toward the ladder to the catwalk looking up into the dark shadows.
Mo gave herself one last glance. Shit, the time! Good enough in the dark blue dress and the scarf she’d bought at Filene’s Basement. Okay, earrings. It was the Whitneys after all. She looked through the top drawer of her dressing table swearing she’d thrown some pearl drops in there at some point. Coming up empty she looked over at the table Deb and Ling had shared. She hoped Deb had left something she could borrow. They were all pretty free with borrowing each other’s stuff. She
rifled around in the drawer with no luck. Oh well. She hoped the Whitneys weren’t counting on being impressed. She stopped and thought about the times she and Ling had chatted and laughed as they prepared for a show or undressed and unpainted after one. She thought about the last night and the hair dryer. Ling organizing hair dryer use making the star of the show wait her turn. Wild, exuberant Ling. Thoughtful, studious Ling. She placed her hand on the dressing table and thought of her friend. All Ling’s belongings were gone now. Deb had managed to clutter it up on her own. She realized she may have not reached out to Deb as she might have. They weren’t unfriendly but had never become friends like she and Ling had.
She told herself she’d try to get to know Deb a little better. She was a fellow aerialist after all. But she was often peevish and Mo suspected a little jealous of her. Maybe she should try to break through that instead of being put off. She remembered how she’d been with Linc earlier that day. Was it possible she’d had a little bit of a crush on the tumbler? Maybe she had been hurting in his absence in a way Mo never suspected. Well, maybe she was wrong. I guess I better get going. She grabbed her bag and opened the door.
Zack heard the shriek as he ascended the ladder to the catwalk. His guts did a flip and he leaped cursing as his knee jammed into the concrete floor. He ran toward the dressing rooms gun drawn. He flipped off the safety. The hall was empty but he heard yelling in the women’s dressing room. “Mo!”
“Zack!” He heard her as he put his hand on the knob twisting as if to snap it off when it proved locked. He pounded his fist against the door, then rammed his shoulder to it when he heard her cry his name again. He took a step back and with a sharp blow with his foot knocked the door open. He jumped on the back of the demon that had Mo pinned against Deb’s dressing table, taking it down to the floor where it cursed in French.
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