Starting to slam the door in her face, Melissa stammered, “But another dancer has gone missing! That's two girls … and we're right near those woods. They're where The Innocents used to hold their rituals. Please, Mrs. Moore! I just wanted to ask you a few questions.”
The door slowly creaked open. Marjorie stepped to the side, allowing the attractive couple to enter.
“Take off your boots, and leave ‘em right there,” she ordered, pointing to an old rubber mat. The same sadness running throughout her mirthless home soaked her words in pathos. “You don't need to be tracking snow all over my living room, now do you?”
“No, ma'am, we sure don't,” Todd answered for both of them. Hanging their coats on an informal rack that could have served multiple purposes, they followed at a polite distance. Multi-colored lights were tacked up around the fireplace, a circular fan of red sparkly material on the floor in anticipation of a tree.
Standing with her arms huddled around her, she shielded herself from them the way she did from life. The furniture was frozen in the period of time that Marjorie's loss occurred. While meticulously cared for, it was nonetheless dying in place.
Melissa tentatively sank onto a worn cushion as if sitting on a hot stove. She settled, her body moving long after it was necessary. Todd sat next to her. His legs open, he was ready to be asked to leave. The small radio in the corner tuned to a station that played only Christmas songs, the merry tunes took on a mournful sound, doing nothing to alleviate the mood in the somber household.
“Now what was it you wanted to know?” Midge snapped, on edge and guarded in what she was going to say. “I have a lot to do,” she explained, pointing to the futile start of holiday decorations. “My other girl, Sharon, is coming for a visit. She’s not staying long, but at least I'll be able to ...”
Her voice vanished behind the same oblivion that hid Barbara. Feeling as if he’d committed a severe error in judgment, it was wrong to be here. He’d allowed himself to be swayed because of his affection for Melissa. He felt like taking her hand, and dragging her from the house. This woman had the right to be left alone.
“We're really sorry, Mrs. Moore,” Melissa apologized. As sorry as she felt for being in this woman's living room, there was a greater compulsion to learn the truth.
“Could you please just get to your point? What's this about another girl?”
Todd took the lead in the conversation. He wanted this over, and the only way to do that was to be succinct.
“A student was discovered missing this morning. There was some evidence of violence.”
“Violence? What sort of violence?”
“We don't know, ma'am. There was a fair amount of blood found in one of the studios. The circumstances warranted a call for us to investigate and find out what happened.”
“And?”
“And we're in the midst of determining that, ma'am. As I said earlier, this visit is not sanctioned and you don't have to say anything if you don't want to.”
Inside he was praying that she would throw them out. If she did, it would end it here. While he had a curiosity about the events that happened forty years ago, not every conspiracy theory needed to be investigated to prove it was false.
“I understood you the first time,” she retorted, losing the fragile temper that had been stretched out in increments of agony.
“I'm sor —” Melissa stopped herself. She was apologizing again and going to get blasted for repeating herself the same way Todd just did. Why couldn't she collect her thoughts? “Look, Mrs. Moore, the girl, Tina, didn't run away. There was no note—nothing. She was in class yesterday, and never said anything about leaving. It's just not like her. We're in the midst of learning a part. It’s something she wanted. Then there’s her family, she wouldn’t leave without telling them.”
“Rehearsing?” the elderly woman drawled slowly. Lowering like a freight elevator to the couch on her right, her petite size was dwarfed by the large cushions decorated with yellow, stylized feathers. Her eyes, washed of color, hung in the air like deflating balloons. “My Barbara always wanted to dance. Wanted to do a lot of things ... but then she might be doing them. I wouldn't know, now would I?”
“But that's just it, Mrs. Moore,” Missy responded. “I'm sorry to be prying in your business, but I heard about the search for your daughter, and that you called it off. We ... I mean, ‘I’ wanted to know why.”
“But I told that to the police.”
“Yes, but I don't know what you told them. And I saw something in the woods, Mrs. Moore. I'm begging you to just tell me what you know.”
“Saw something?” she muttered, staring vacantly at Melissa. It didn't seem to matter whether Missy were there anymore. She was lost in a world of past thoughts and recriminations. “Then they're still at it? My Barbara was one of them, you know.”
“A member of The Innocents?” Melissa asked, moving to the edge of the overstuffed settee.
“Uh-huh. Found out just before she left.”
“But who were they and what exactly did they do?”
“Just some kids she knew from school,” she answered, her voice lazy, her eyes moving to study the soft Christmas lights. “Seems it was just a bit of excitement for her to get involved with. She was always looking for a thrill. I told her again and again it would get her in trouble. Maybe it's why ...”
She paused again, licking her lips, patting the soft curve of the sides of her hair over her ears.
“Why what, Mrs. Moore?” Melissa asked gently.
“Why she joined,” she replied, turning her head towards the young girl that was about the same age as her daughter when she ran away. “She didn’t come down for breakfast one morning, so I went to her room to wake her up. Figured she was still sleeping, but her bed was still made. I assumed that she’d snuck out the night before. Barbara was always sneaking out and meeting that man she took up with. I was worried that she was with him, so I called the police. She was only sixteen, and he was older. He should have known better than to get involved with a teenager. I gave the police his name, but they said they couldn't find him ... or Barbara. I wouldn't give up though. I kept on them to look. It's not like I could just forget about her.”
“Then you knew this man’s name?”
“Course, I knew. Name's Robert Mulligan. I hope he's doing right by her. As much as I'm hurting, I still want her to be happy.”
“Then she's with him?” Todd asked, making sure she was confirming the rumors that Barbara had run off with the boy she’d been seeing.
“Yes. She picked him over me.”
“And you found out from a phone call?” Melissa inquired.
“No, not a call. Barbara showed up about a year later. Out of the blue. I was pressing for the FBI to get involved, but when I saw her, well, she changed my mind real quick.”
“What did she say?” Melissa asked, her heart breaking for the woman that had lost her child.
“That she hated me. That she didn't want to ever see me again. That she was happy with Bobby and to leave her alone. She was seventeen then, but I'll never forgive him for taking her away. She looked so beautiful, just like she did the last night I saw her. Had her hair swept all up. Usually she wore it down, but I liked it best in that French twist.
“After her visit, I dropped the charges. Seemed silly to fight since she didn't want to be with me. And she's never changed her mind. All these years and not a word—not one word. I tried tracking him down, but he’d moved. Went online, but didn't find an address. His sister had one, though. I sent her a Christmas card with a note inside saying that I didn’t want to cause trouble. I only wanted to see her ... and him. If he was that big a part of her life, it wasn't my place to say anything different. Especially not after all this time. I just wanted to know that she was okay. I thought that maybe they'd had children. It'd be nice to meet them. Kids need grandparents, don't they? I think they do. Can't have too much love, can they?”
She was right about that. Me
lissa agreed wholeheartedly. Feeling ridiculous about her hasty criticism of the police, they’d acted appropriately. There was no way she was lying.
“Now what was it you said about seeing something in the woods?” Midge said, addressing Melissa.
“Oh, it was a man. He was ...”
“...dancing?”
Melissa's body twitched.
“How did you know that?” she replied.
“Because it's what happened to Barbara. It's how I found out about that group. She came home one night, all frightened—refusing to be alone. I didn't know what went on, so I started asking questions. Turns out she was in the woods with that group The Innocents. She'd been initiated or some such nonsense. Damn fools kids did wear skull costumes, and used to dance. Anyway, I have no idea why, but they left her alone … in the clearing where they used to meet. Can you imagine? She was told to wait and that they would be back. She did, but she got nervous. You know, even five minutes would seem a long time, so she decided to try to find them. Followed the path they took, but got lost. That's when she saw a man. Her friends came along later, and brought her home. Listening to her, I figured they'd just played a prank on her. Probably just wanted to scare her, but she wouldn't listen to common sense and refused to have anything to do with them. I didn't press it. Little did I know she'd end up getting involved in an even bigger mess.”
“Was there anything else?” Melissa asked.
“No, not really. Except that she was afraid of the woods after that. Really afraid.”
“Then the story about the picnic?”
“What picnic?”
“Didn't she have a picnic in the woods? The day she disappeared?”
“Hardly, she disappeared at night, just like I told you. And no one could have paid her to step foot in the woods again.”
“Why?”
“I just told you! She was scared because she didn't think it was them that she saw. She insisted that a man—a stranger—was dancing around in the forest. She got scared when he used the same phrase they did, but didn't the fact he repeated the same words that The Innocents used mean that he was one of them?”
Melissa’s body tensed, her mouth going dry from nerves. The burger she’d had earlier began to churn in her stomach.
“And what words did he say ?”
“Momento mori, Barbara. Momento mori.”
Chapter
Twenty-nine
“Todd, you're just not listening! There's somebody in those woods!”
“Melissa, please stop. I was listening and Midge was right about it being her friends trying to scare her. That’s all it was,” he concluded, doing his best to concentrate on the road ahead and get them both home in one piece.
“And the phrase?”
“Now who wasn't listening? I never heard it before in my life, and I'll bet most people haven’t. No, the only people that would know that obscure bit of trivia were the members of The Innocents. Points right to it being one of them. And if it were one of them, then you can bet they were watching—and laughing their asses off. And I'm really kind of surprised by what you're saying. I thought the whole point of talking to Mrs. Moore was because you suspected she was implicated in her daughter's disappearance. So now that you've exonerated her of that felony, you’re coming up with another theory about some strange guy who likes to dance in the woods every forty years being the culprit? It’s ridiculous, and you’re forgetting that Barbara is safe.”
Going silent, she crossed her arms, sinking into the passenger seat. He was wrong. Dead wrong. He was dismissing her just like her mother used to do. Anger flaring up out of the ashes, she stared out the window, vowing that she'd never speak to him again. The rash decision didn’t last long. He wasn't anything like her mother. And he wasn't dismissing her—he simply disagreed.
“Hey,” he cajoled, taking her arm. Shaking it lightly, he treated her to a sweet smile. “I'm sorry. Really.”
Sitting up, she leaned her head back, savoring his handsome profile. Awfully cute, he’d gone way outside police procedures. Add to that, everything he said was true. She was just being stubborn.
“No, I'm sorry. I’m being a total brat. You were taking a chance in bringing me over there. I feel so bad for her.”
“Me, too. And I had ... correction, ‘have’ many regrets about doing so, but I guess I'd do just about anything for you. You're that kind of girl.” Using his blinker, he eased into the turn. “I think the problem is that you're personally involved. You think that it's going to help, but it doesn't. Emotions make us non-objective and that’s what’s needed to solve cases.”
“Is that what you think I am? Emotionally involved?”
“Hell, yeah! And rightly so! It started with the overnight stay in the woods, and got kicked into high gear with Brandi going missing. And now another friend disappears? I don't blame you one bit, and you shouldn’t either.”
Putting his car in park outside Velofsky’s, the lights downstairs were burning brightly. Wondering if Tina had been found, she hoped when she went in, that she’d be in there waiting safe and sound. He tossed an arm over the steering wheel. His face shadowed by the night, a smile played on his lips.
“I’ve worked out a new theory,” he began, “I think it's that little Zoe girl doing away with her competition … with a hatchet.”
The sound of genuine laughter filled the car.
“What?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.
“Just a hunch, but my intuition says that she’s not a bit like you,” he responded, leaning in for a first kiss.
Without thinking, she backed away into the corner. Opening his eyes, he shifted self-consciously behind the driver's wheel.
“Sorry, again,” he said tapping the wheel.
“It's just that ...” she started to explain.
“Look, you don't have to say anything. It might be that other guy stopping you from ...”
“Kurt? No, no, it's nothing like that!”
“Hey,” he said placing his hands on her shoulders. Holding her firmly, he spoke from his heart. “I didn't mean it that way. Look, we're just getting to know each other. And I'm sure they'll be lots of guys trying to catch your eye. If one of those guys attracts your attention, then that’s my problem. It's me that will have to step up my game. You have a right to be with whomever you want without anyone giving you flack for trying to be happy. I'm the male, and I’m the one that has to vie for the right to hold your hand, okay?”
Inside, an icy fence melted. There were other barriers still standing, but he was making his way through her obstacle course.
“You mean, you're gonna fight for me?” she teased, the smirk playing at the corners of her full lips. He returned her smile.
“Damn right I will!” he joked, slapping the wheel with the palm of his hand.
“Like those spring bucks?” she said putting her fingers up to her head like horns, “when they butt heads?”
Todd chuckled again. “See I told you. You're a funny girl. Yes, exactly like that, I guess I'll have to cut holes in my hat to fit over the rack I'm going to grow, but yeah, I'll do it!”
“In that case, come here,” she said, crooking her finger. Leaning in, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. Before he could say anything, she jumped out of the car, holding the door open. “And thanks, Todd. For tonight, and for everything.”
He watched her run into the safe haven, but was it? The latest disappearance put a new spin on things. He was having so many second and third thoughts about letting her stay at the school, but it wasn't the school, it was Holybrook that had the problem. His eyes scanned the woods wondering if anything was in them. Not a dancing man, but a real life serial killer who profiled young girls like the ones taken. While there was no evidence to connect the two cases, he felt sure that the two girls were abducted for the same reason. What it was, he didn't know. Worried that the motive extended its reach to Melissa, he’d hate to think that it put her in danger and in the position of being the third ball
erina to disappear from the prestigious Velofsky School of Ballet.
Chapter Thirty
“I wasn't being mean, you know.”
Melissa recognized the dark presence next to her without the necessity of looking up. The elongated, graceful shadow stretching over the floor was enough to identify trouble. Even in caricature, Zoe's body extended into infinity.
Doing her best to avoid another exercise in futility, she finished tucking the ends of the satiny pink ribbons. Learning how to pick her battles, she refused to hand that power over to those that saw themselves as enemies of a quiet soul. All she wanted to do was dance, and yet every day she faced combatants trying to knock her off the greased pole.
“I said ...” Zoe repeated, kneeling and dropping to the floor.
Angry that she wasn't going to give up, she was determined to stoke the fires.
“I heard you,” Melissa interjected. Continuing to put the finishing touches on her pointe shoes, she didn't like loose ends—on her shoes, or in life. “There,” she said, patting her ankle.
“Well, what is it this time that’s preventing you from being civil?” Zoe lambasted, determined to get an answer. “Did I use the wrong soap? Is my bun a centimeter off from being centered on my head? Or God forbid, is my mere presence screwing with your artistic aspirations?” The icy blue held their own, pale eyelids blinking them in and out of existence. “Look, I didn't come over to fight, I just wanted to explain my remark the other night.”
“Which one? Sorry if I don't remember every single gem that dribbles from your lips. Believe it or not, there are more important things in the world.”
The hypodermic filled with venom made its way under Zoe's skin. She nodded her head, grimacing slightly.
“I suppose I deserved that.”
Melissa waited for the caveat. The 'I deserved that, but you did this,’ part, but there were no justifications—only a sheepish look, and a flush of pink in Zoe's cheeks.
“Yes, you do,” she said, diving in. Pausing, there was still no vitriol … no defensive posturing. Suspicious, she spoke to Zoe as if she weren't the asshole she'd proven herself to be. “Whatever. What are you talking about?”
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