by Eileen Brady
“That’s the problem, isn’t it? Proving anything after all this time.”
The hotel and its bright lights were reflected in the calm dark lake, a shimmering mirror image. Pinecones clustered under the trees. We walked a bit more until the faint strains of “The Hokey Pokey” drifted across the water.
“Shall we turn back?” he asked.
“Sure. I’m ready to have some fun. After all, this is my first prom.”
“Then let’s party, by all means,” he replied as we quickened the pace. “Only another two hours before Dina will let us out of here.”
***
Over the next half hour, the DJ dimmed the overhead lighting even further and it became hard to recognize anyone. The blinking blue and white lights from the Eiffel Tower created a strobe effect that made my eyes burn and washed out colors. Between the noise and the pulsing lights I could feel a migraine coming on. Jeremy sweetly offered to take me home but I figured I could last two more hours. Ice water and Advil helped but didn’t make me feel less like a big party pooper.
Luke pointed out Nate Porter to me. Dressed in an ill-fitting suit and tie, he stood alone at the bar, a bunch of empty beer bottles lined up in front of him. I briefly spied Denny Alantonio, the real estate agent, who appeared to have come to the party solo. Always moving, he busied himself by chatting away with group after group of partygoers, probably trying to sell them something.
“Denny had a crush on Angelica,” Dina informed me when she saw me watching him. “She shot him down but good.”
Before I could question her, she popped up and headed for the dance floor.
Hoping to escape the music for a moment, Jeremy escorted me into the lobby. No one manned the greeting table and only a few pre-printed badges remained, none of the names familiar to me. The busy uniformed cleaning staff hustled around us trying to keep up with all the half-empty plates and glasses.
“I’m officially danced out,” my date admitted.
“Can you believe how packed the ballroom is?” The deserted space felt like heaven.
“Do you think some of the locals crashed the party?” Jeremy asked. “I saw some guys who looked suspiciously younger than they should.”
He had a good point. Security was nonexistent.
We hung out chatting for a while until hunger drove us to the buffet table again. After absentmindedly stuffing myself with greasy fried food, I wanted to forget all about murder and go home. Unfortunately, we had to wait for the big King and Queen and their Court thing to happen. Part of me was surprised they’d even decided to go through with it.
Jeremy had gone to get us both some decaf coffee when Angelica appeared behind me.
“Are you sh’tay-ing for the Royal Court reveal?” She seemed pretty pleased with herself and more than a little bit loaded.
“Yes, we are,” I replied, my body language radiating zero enthusiasm. “We’re sharing a limo with Luke and Dina and they’re part of the Court.” I slipped my high-heeled shoes off under the table and hoped I’d be able to squeeze them back on my swollen feet. Noting her intoxication, I said, “Maybe you shouldn’t be driving tonight. We’ll be glad to give you a ride if you need one.”
“Me, need a ride? Duh.” The look Angelica gave me implied that Prom Queens always had rides.
Music blared as the DJ loudly encouraged the crowd to join a twisting congo line. The Prom Queen began to sway more or less to the beat.
I was about to turn away when Angelica leaned in and whispered, “I did remember something about the day Flynn left. Maybe I know who could have snapped, after all. Just like a big old rubber band.” She mimicked pulling something with her fingers and hiccupped.
Alarmed, I urged her to tell me.
“Nope. First one to know will be Offis’sher Lukey, because he’s a member of my Court. Get it? Court?” She hiccupped again. “Bye-bye.” With another small hiccup she took off, vanishing into the thick crowd before I could locate my shoes and follow.
To my right, I spied Luke deep in conversation with Evelyn Vandersmitt, Flynn’s old drama teacher, famous for her red lips and eccentric ways. Unsure of what to do, I interrupted them.
“Excuse me, Luke. I think this is our dance?”
Without waiting for a reply, I pulled him onto the dance floor. The singer crooned about love gone wrong.
“Do you want to tell me what this is about?” Although our respective dates had been dancing up a storm together, we’d been otherwise occupied. He placed his arm around my waist.
“Angelica thinks she remembers someone who was angry at Flynn.”
Luke pressed me close. “Kate, our Prom Queen loves attention—and has a great imagination. I wouldn’t put a lot of stock in it if I were you.” Then somehow he twirled me around and brought me back into his arms in perfect time to the beat.
My astonishment temporarily wiped away Angelica’s revelation. “Where did you learn to dance like this?”
“My sisters and all my girl cousins. They made me practice with them.” He punctuated that revelation with a confident dip.
I felt like I was in a forties black-and-white movie.
“If you want, we can talk to her after the whole Court thing,” he continued, “which is in about fifteen minutes.”
Sure enough, I saw Dina waving frantically on the sidelines to get Luke’s attention. The singer hit a high note, the music finished, and he dipped me again, slowly, smoothly, my hair touching the floor. Decades old ballet classes kicked in and I extended my hand and one foot out as gracefully as I could. The couples dancing around us broke out in a round of applause. Expertly, he carefully brought me to my feet.
“That was fun. Sorry, but I’ve got to go.” Luke released my waist and took Dina’s hand. The two of them disappeared backstage leaving me standing alone under the tin stars.
***
Half an hour later the audience was still waiting for the big finale. Jeremy returned to the table after ducking outside to check on our limo. He glared at his watch.
“They should be starting any second now. It’s almost midnight,” I said.
“It was fun, but I’m more than ready to leave.” He took my hand and kissed it. “Are we getting too old for this?”
“Absolutely not.” I stood up and took his arm. “How about one last dance?”
With my headache almost gone and two glasses of wine soothing my sore feet, Jeremy and I walked onto the dance floor and sang along to the true love lyrics. Pressed up against his chest I relaxed and looked forward to the rest of our evening together. His witty observations on the other dancers soon had me in giggles.
Abruptly, the music stopped and we went back to our seats. The DJ then called a few teachers up to the mike and what seemed like an endless parade of past student council presidents and band leaders, none of whom we knew.
“Oh, by the way, I saw that Dr. Rusty guy leave while you were talking to the Prom Queen.” Jeremy gestured toward the ballroom exit door.
“Lucky dog,” I rested my head on Jeremy’s shoulder and prayed for the reunion to end.
Luke and Dina and several other couples had slipped off behind the stage what seemed like ages ago to find their props and get into place. A server sped by, accidentally banging the back of my chair and knocking my borrowed purse to the ground. The clasp popped open and most of the contents spilled on the floor. By the time I lifted my head to protest, all I saw was a waiter’s familiar back, and a pair of black pants hurrying toward the door.
“Great.” My keys, lipstick, and a half-empty roll of mints lay strewn under the chairs and table.
Jeremy offered to help but I told him I’d get it.
When I moved my chair back to retrieve my stuff, I barely avoided another collision with a different server. Annoyed and stressed he muttered his opinion of me, and our entire table. A creative description of
what I could do with myself sizzled in the air. Embarrassed, I kept my head down until he was out of sight, before stuffing everything back into my purse. Tempers were wearing thin. A metallic screech of static caught the audience’s attention. Someone tapped on the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, fellow classmates…” The DJ with the booming voice attempted to quiet the audience down.
“Show time.” Jeremy moved his chair to face the stage and helped twist mine toward the main attraction. The remaining lights darkened all the way down.
A lone spotlight focused on the announcer. “Please take your seats. It’s time to greet your 2007 Prom King and Queen and their Court.”
Oh good, I thought. Let’s wrap this up.
The red velvet curtains lifted, revealing two backlit thrones—one empty and one with a silhouetted figure. Draped above them, barely visible in the dim light, a black banner with glittery gold lettering read “RIP Flynn Keegan, 2007 Prom King.”
The DJ continued, but amped up his voice a notch for dramatic effect. “We salute in memoriam Prom King Flynn Keegan and encourage you to greet the members of the Royal Court. Please stand and give them all a round of applause.” Spotlights flitted back and forth over the Royal Court who carefully descended access stairs on opposite ends of the stage, to form a semi-circle facing the audience. As each couple was announced, applause welled up from the crowd.
Dina made goofy faces to one of her friends while Luke stared off to the side.
A drum roll sounded.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together and greet Her Royal Highness, our lovely 2007 Prom Queen, Angelica Landon.
The Court turned to face the stage and in a cheesy choreographed moment bowed and curtsied to their Queen.
Center stage lights came up dramatically, bathing the stage in rose and gold. Two spotlights focused on the thrones.
Those closest to the stage realized it first. The Prom Queen didn’t rise and wave to her adoring crowd. Something metallic was twisted impossibly tightly around her neck, cutting into her flesh. Unblinking eyes like colored glass stared at the audience.
A woman screamed.
Angelica’s dark purple face clashed horribly with her pale yellow dress.
Chapter Twenty-eight
It was two-fifteen in the morning by the time we left the reunion from Hell. A silent Luke stayed behind with the rest of the police force while Jeremy, Dina, and I gratefully crawled into our limo. After dropping her off, we went back to my place.
Once Buddy was settled, I poured us two ice-cold glasses of white wine and joined Jeremy on the sofa. Our faces reflected a certain numbness from the night’s events.
“Do you mind staying here tonight?” I asked Jeremy. “Your place is more romantic but I’m way too tired to care.”
“Wherever you are is romantic enough for me.” He opened his arms and I gladly leaned against him. Just being held felt comforting.
“Poor Angelica.” My words were muffled by his chest.
“I know.” He stroked my hair and kissed my ear. “Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”
Sleep wasn’t what I needed now. I leaned over and kissed him. Jeremy’s lips were soft and warm and took their time. Clasping his hand in mine, I turned the light off and led him to my bed.
***
I woke up to the delicious smell of bacon and coffee.
“Breakfast.” Jeremy stood in front of the stove in boxers and a tuxedo shirt with a very attentive Buddy directly below. With his hair all ruffled up he looked like the morning-after in a sexy European movie. Waking up to food by Jeremy was getting to be a delightful habit.
I, on the other hand, felt like I’d been run over by a tractor-trailer. In jagged pieces the events of last night intruded on the new day. Not wanting to go there, I sat up, grabbed my robe, and headed toward the bathroom. After putting myself together, I ventured into the kitchen. A vase filled with sunflowers and a glass of orange juice greeted me. I stared at them in astonishment.
“Did you go to the store this morning?”
“Yes, and in my tux, believe it or not. You were down to a bottle of mayo and a can of dog food.” He kissed the top of my head and pointed me into a kitchen chair. Before I’d settled in, a steaming cup of coffee appeared.
“I remember you weren’t much of a morning person.”
“That hasn’t changed. You’re spoiling me,” I said as I took my first sip.
“Honey, you deserve to be spoiled.” He turned back to the stove and began flipping something.
Thinking of Jeremy buying orange juice in his tuxedo made a great image. Even the weather cooperated, as sunshine streamed through the curtains. Sunshine? I looked around for my phone but must have left it in my purse. “Jeremy, what time is it?”
“A little past noon. You slept almost eight hours.” With a flourish he divided up a professional-looking omelet and slipped it onto my plate.
Eight hours of sleep and no crazy dreams. Maybe my body was telling me something. “This looks good.” I tried a forkful of eggs. Delicious. “When did you learn to cook?”
“Sheer necessity. You figure out how to make meals for yourself pretty quickly on a dig. Otherwise you starve to death. We had an Italian archeologist join us on an expedition in the Yucatan peninsula a couple of years ago and I got a crash course from her.” He slid the rest of the omelet onto his plate, brought over some bacon, and refilled our two mugs of coffee before sitting down opposite me.
A sigh of contentment escaped. “This is such a luxury. I normally chug a burnt-tasting cup of coffee standing up and grab whatever is hanging around for breakfast.”
“I noticed.” He lifted his glass of orange juice. “You need to take better care of yourself.”
My fork speared the remaining piece of bacon. “Now you sound like Gramps.”
“That’s a good thing, ’cause if I remember correctly, your Gramps is usually right.”
I stuck my tongue out at him.
When he quit laughing he said, “Why don’t we take today to chill? Let’s have a lazy Sunday at home. With what we’ve been through, we deserve it.”
“Agreed.”
“Then maybe after breakfast we could go back to bed.” His grin was inviting and a bit lascivious.
Grinning back, I said, “It’s a date.” Getting reacquainted last night had been very satisfying. I was looking forward to more of the same.
Buddy stood up, walked over to the door and growled. A moment later the doorbell rang.
“Oh, no,” I muttered.
“Who’s that?” Jeremy asked.
I reluctantly got up and wrapped my bathrobe more tightly around me. “It’s probably one of the staff doing Sunday morning treatments. Sometimes they forget their keys.” Hushing Buddy, I pushed away the blinds and curtain and peeked out the window into the parking lot.
“Shoot.” At any other time I would have welcomed Luke, but not now. Hiding was out of the question since he’d already seen me.
I slipped the chain lock and deadbolt and opened the door.
“Good morning.” When he came in he brought in a blast of cold air in more ways than one. As soon as he saw Jeremy at the kitchen table with his boxer shorts peeking out from under his tuxedo shirt he stopped, unsure of what to do.
“Hey, Luke. Want some coffee?” Jeremy lifted his mug and gestured toward an extra chair.
Luke’s head swiveled between me, then Jeremy, the messy bed, and back again.
I noticed his left hand had a death grip on a paper bag. Seeing that I had a romantic life of my own obviously affected him. “Is that for us?”
“Uh, I brought you some bagels.”
Jeremy had a bemused look on his face. “Kate, Honey, come back and sit down. Your coffee is getting cold.”
Buddy enthusiastically wagge
d his tail and followed everyone to the kitchen table. Jeremy sliced up a few bagels, put out cream cheese, and poured our visitor a cup of coffee.
Seeing Luke unfortunately reminded me of last night and Angelica’s murder. “Have you had any sleep yet?” I asked him. Gray shadows lurked under his dark brown eyes.
He held the coffee mug with both hands. “I caught a few hours on the cot at the station.” The grim expression didn’t leave his face.
Jeremy joined us at the table, then asked, “What brings you here this morning?”
Luke stared into his mug as though the answer were floating there. “The murder last night. Remember the stars hanging from the ceiling?”
I nodded.
“Well, the killer used one of those wires to strangle Angelica.”
A beautiful image of the sparkling stars gently twirling above us now morphed into something sinister. I heard a quick intake of breath from Jeremy before Luke continued.
“It was a murder of opportunity.”
Jeremy and I exchanged glances.
“And I’m sorry to say all of us are considered suspects. Including me.”
***
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Jeremy said for the millionth time. Talking about murder definitely had spoiled our romantic mood. The three of us moved to the living room and since Luke was off duty and it technically was past lunchtime, the guys had progressed from coffee to ice cold beer.
“Tell me about it.” Luke sat in the lounge chair, a happy dog pressed up against him. He patted Buddy on the head and continued his explanation. “They took me off the case.”
“Any other officers at the reunion?”
“No. Just me. But the Chief has a major problem on his hands. No witnesses, no surveillance video, and a zillion fingerprints and trace evidence from practically everybody in town is scattered throughout the entire venue.”
“Doesn’t the hotel have security cameras?”
“Yes, but the system was down that night. They were so busy with the reunion no one called in their tech guy.”
“Does that happen often?” I asked him.
“More often than you’d think. Management updated their reservation software and individual room security in the hotel area but never got around to the separate ballroom systems. Plus, half the outdoor cameras, including the ones in the parking lots, aren’t working because of the ice storms.”