Line Dancing Can Be Murder

by Stacey Coverstone

  There were all manners of clever ways in which to do away with someone. The problem was, did Keith really deserve to die? Or had he behaved as a pig-dog because women allowed him to? Why did men think they could take advantage of women? And why did women let them get away with it? I slumped in my seat and closed my eyes knowing it was an age-old question that would probably never be answered.

  My macabre musings were disrupted when the memory of that night so long ago skated through my mind. After successfully keeping it tucked in a hidden place for so long, the flashes that had been coming over the past couple of days suddenly burst into a full blown slow-motion picture.

  My body broke into a cold sweat, and a soft groan tore from my chest. All my senses heightened. I could smell that same strong cologne. Inside my head, my voice cried out in pain. I heard the horrible grunting and felt the tear of flesh. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to mentally erase the horrible image from my mind. Thankfully, Winnie’s voice drew me back to the here and now.

  “I’m sure going to miss you ladies. You’ve been a lot of fun to travel with.” She patted my hand. “I hope we’ll stay in touch. Who knows? Maybe we’ll even travel together again someday.”

  I smiled, doing my best to staunch my shaking hand.

  “I’m going to book my next tour as soon as I get home,” she said.

  “Are you? Where will you be headed next time?” Did I sound normal? I had no idea. Hopefully, Winnie wouldn’t notice I was emotionally falling apart.

  “Wherever Keith is the tour director,” she answered with a wink. “Being around him this week has been like a shot of adrenaline to my heart. I’ve been depressed since my husband died, and at times I didn’t want to go on living myself. I poured my soul out to Keith one night, and he was so kind and compassionate. He convinced me that life is worth living, even if I have to live it alone. His words have done me a world of good.”

  Incredulous, I stared at her. Was this the same man who had threatened my friends, stolen their money and their dignity, and verbally and physically attacked them? The same man I’d been fantasizing about murdering?

  I forced the knot out of my tongue and gave her a weak smile. “I hope you have a great time, wherever you go,” I said, sincerely.

  Wherever Winnie went, it wouldn’t be with Keith. Because as you and I both know, he would never direct a tour again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  End of the Road

  Our farewell banquet meal in Denver was worse than terrible. The salad was dry, the rolls were hard, and the chicken entrée was lukewarm. Even Chuck, whom we’d dubbed the human garbage disposal, complained about the lackluster send off. “At least the booze was good,” he chuckled.

  Once dessert was served, we sat through an hour of our fellow travelers sharing their favorite memories of the trip. Then the five amigas performed a little skit they’d written, complete with poetry, song and dance. They dedicated it to our wonderful tour director who made this trip so special.

  If I hadn’t been concerned about drawing attention to myself, I would have shoved my fingers down my throat and puked.

  Finally, Keith took to the podium and mike to say a few words to close out the evening. As usual, his hair was perfect, his clothes accentuated his muscles and fine physique, and his teeth sparkled brighter than radioactive diamonds. But his slurred speech was evidence that he was a little more than tipsy. Having kept my eye on him throughout the evening, I’d noticed he drank a lot of beers.

  “First of all,” he began, “I’m sure you all noticed Wayne isn’t with us tonight. He had to turn the bus around almost the moment we arrived in Denver and head back for Las Vegas, where he’ll be starting another tour in two days. He wanted me to wish you all safe travels home, and he hopes you’ll join us for another tour in the near future.”

  Admiring eyes of the many senior ladies beamed as Keith then spoke of his delight in getting to know all of us. “It’s been my pleasure to share my love for the magnificent west, along with its history, scenery, and people. As some of you might know, my home base is right here in Denver. This is where I was born and raised. If any of you find your way back to the Mile High City in the future, be sure and look me up. I’ll be happy to give you the grand tour of my hometown. Thank you again for traveling with us! Sleep well tonight, and safe journeys tomorrow.”

  Amidst a round of applause, Keith smiled and waved and then staggered out of the room. With the life of the party gone, everyone else was apparently ready to call it a night. The men and women we’d grown fond of during the past nine days gave out hugs and email addresses while saying their goodbyes. The six of us were some of the last to leave the banquet room.

  “Too bad we don’t have Keith’s home address,” Crystal said, as we strolled down the lobby toward the elevators. “We could egg his house.”

  “What good would that do?” Donna asked with a smirk. “That won’t get my money back.”

  “Mine, either,” Kim said.

  Crystal shrugged. “I know, but it might make us feel better to do something.”

  “You know what would make us feel better?” I said.

  Jackie took one last puff from her cigarette and crushed it out in the ashtray next to the elevators. She pushed the up button. “Going to bed and trying to forget we ever met Keith Creswell?”

  “No. What is the one thing we always rely on to lift our spirits when we’re down?”

  “Alcohol,” Annette said. “Me excluded, of course.”

  For the first time in a while, we all chuckled. “No. What else?”

  “Chocolate and cupcakes?” Kim joked.

  “I know,” Jackie said, cocking an eyebrow. “Line dancing.”

  Nodding, I led my friends away from the elevators and toward the pool area outside. The pool was closed but the gate was open, and no one was around. It was a warm and balmy evening in Denver. Stars twinkled in the sky, and I suddenly wanted to dance more than anything in the world. It was the best way to free the black thoughts I’d been having.

  We lined up in front of the kidney-shaped pool, and I removed my Kindle Fire Tablet from my purse and turned it on. Within moments I was ready to search my music library. “What song do you feel like dancing to, ladies?”

  “How about Dolly Parton’s Romeo?” Donna suggested. “Makes sense in a weird way.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” After browsing my Cloud, I downloaded the song and set the Kindle on a nearby glass-topped table. Dolly’s voice poured out of the tablet singing the words, “a cross between a movie star and a hero in a book, Romeo comes struttin’ in and everybody looks.” The lyrics perfectly described the man who had screwed my friends (in one case, literally). The beat of the music fired not only my blood, but the blood of my friends. We shoved our fingers into the waistbands of our jeans and shuffled to the steps of the Jive Bunny. The song choice couldn’t have been more appropriate, considering.

  By the time Dolly sang the chorus, we were clapping, twirling, and belting out the song with her. With every step, my feet pounded the concrete deck as I pretended to stomp on cockroaches—one in particular. It felt so good to release all the pent-up emotion that had been trapped in my body for the last few days.

  When the song ended, it was as if six mini volcanoes had erupted. We melted into each other’s arms and laughed, hugging one another.

  Annette’s eyes glistened with fresh tears. “I did some really stupid things on this trip, but I can get through anything as long as I have you guys by my side.”

  The sound of someone clapping stopped us in our tracks. I glanced over my shoulder to see a lone figure standing near the gate under a ray of moonlight. “Nice job, ladies,” the man said.

  Our circle broke apart, and we turned simultaneously to face Keith.

  Blood surged through me like a speeding train. “What are you doing out here?” I asked. “We thought you’d gone home already.”

  He sauntered toward us holding a beer bottle in his hand, as if he had
n’t already had enough. Wobbling, his legs crashed into a deck chair. “Shit, that hurt! Who put that there?” He shoved the chair out of the way with his foot and continued forward like a lion on the prowl. Once he stood in front of us, his lips lifted in a crooked smile. “I’ve been waiting for a friend to pick me up, but I heard music.”

  Reeking of alcohol and strong cologne, his lusty gaze moved from woman to woman, roaming over each of us. My stomach rolled and my fists pumped at my sides. The sickening scents wafting from him stirred a stew of unwanted memories.

  “Didn’t expect to see you gals out here,” he said. “What a pleasant surprise. I’ve missed your past performances and had no idea you could shake your asses like that.”

  “Shut up, you pig,” Jackie gritted. Despite the dim light reflecting off the lamps around the pool, I could see her eyes fire and blaze.

  He raised his hands up as if surrendering and smiled. “Sorry to rile you, sweet cheeks. I didn’t mean anything by it. Watching y’all writhe around got me horny, that’s all.”

  “Just leave,” she said, stone-faced.

  Shaking his head, his eyes narrowed into a wolfish glare. “Not yet.” He plunked the beer bottle onto the glass table where my Kindle sat and flopped into a chair. “I want to see more, and this time, I’d like a lap dance.” He snapped his fingers like he was the King of Siam summoning a servant to bring him grapes. “Any one of you will do. I’ll pick out some sexy music while you decide who the lucky chick is.”

  When he reached for my Kindle, something inside of me snapped. “Put that down,” I said, calmly. Too calmly, my friends would tell me later.

  Ignoring me, Keith grabbed for the Kindle, but it slid between his fumbling fingers and dropped to the concrete deck. “Oops,” he said, throwing his head back and laughing.

  Without thinking, just reacting, I lunged and snatched the beer bottle from the table and smashed it against the side of his head. It must have hit in the perfect spot, because he slumped in the chair without so much as a yelp. Blood spilled from a wound in his scalp and dripped from his ear. Without needing to check his pulse or feel for a heartbeat, I knew he was dead. His body was limp, and no breath escaped from between his lips.

  Behind me, I heard a chorus of gasps.

  “What have you done?” someone cried.

  “Oh, my God. Is he dead?” someone else asked.

  Ignoring them because I had to work fast, I grabbed hold of Keith’s arms, heaved him from the deck chair, and dragged him to the edge of the pool.

  “What are you doing?” Donna asked, throwing her arms around my waist.

  I shook her off. “I’m setting up the crime scene. Please move. All of you.” Lips grave and brows troubled, their faces petrified into expressions of terrified surprise. I quickly collected the shards of glass from the broken bottle that had scattered and tossed them onto the concrete near the body. Then I hauled the table over. Next, the chair Keith had been sitting in. I tipped it over and arranged it beside his body. My idea was to make it look as if he’d strolled out to the pool drunk, tripped over the chair, fallen and hit his head on the concrete, and smashed the bottle as he fell.

  “Teresa, stop this,” Crystal begged. “We should tell hotel management what happened. It was an accident.”

  I glared at her. “It wasn’t an accident, and we all know it. I would never ask any of you to lie, but I’ll be arrested for murder if we tell anyone. Is that what you want?”

  “No,” she admitted, after a sob caught in her throat.

  “What about the rest of you?” I asked, scanning their horrified faces. “Do you want to tell?” They all shook their heads.

  “Okay then.” When the setup looked right, I yanked off my tee shirt and wiped down the table and chair of my fingerprints. Then I pulled the shirt back over my head and knelt to shift Keith’s head so that his blood dripped onto the concrete.

  A gaggle of laughter floated out from somewhere near the pool entrance, causing us all to freeze. My heart ricocheted inside my chest like a pinball. As we waited to see if we were going to be discovered, my mind floated back in time. Staring at the man on the ground, it felt justice had finally been served, and a sense of relief washed over me.

  When the laughter drifted back into the hotel, Annette whispered, “Let’s get out of here before anyone else wanders out.”

  “One last thing,” I said, standing up. I kicked the corpse as hard as I could in the rib with my foot and muttered, “How do you like being on the receiving end of pain, Roger? It’s about time you got what you deserved.”

  Before my friends could stop me, I rolled him into the pool. It felt as if an empty hole had been filled as I watched the body sink. I knew he’d float to the top soon enough and be found tomorrow morning, most likely by the pool crew. When I turned and met the stunned gazes of my friends, their mouths gaped, and each and every one of them was as pale as a ghost.

  “Let’s go,” Jackie said, grabbing my arm. I snatched my Kindle from the ground and she hustled me through the gate with the others following on our heels. “Act natural,” she said, as we slowed our steps and walked into the hotel and nonchalantly made our way to the elevators.

  With held breath, we waited for what seemed an eternity for the doors to open. Thankfully, no other passengers were inside. We crowded inside, and Kim pushed the button for our floor and the elevator began to rise. No one said a word until we stumbled into Crystal and Annette’s room, the one closest to the elevators.

  Annette locked the door behind us, and the six of us huddled together on one of the beds. They were all breathing heavily and trembling. The burden I’d carried for so long melted off my shoulders like snow on a hot tin roof. My body overflowed with peace and tranquility.

  “Are you all right, Teresa?” Donna touched my arm gingerly.

  I felt myself smile. “Yes. Why?”

  They all looked at each other as if I’d lost my mind, which in a way, I had. “Because you just killed Keith, and you called him Roger.” Her brows knitted together in alarm.

  What was she talking about? “No, I didn’t,” I argued.

  “Yes, you did. You said, how do you like being on the receiving end of pain, Roger? What did you mean by that?”

  As quickly as it had appeared, sweet euphoria vanished and the impact of what I’d done, and why, hit me. Although we’d shared nearly every life event with each other since we were children, there was something I’d been keeping from my best friends. After thirty-two years, it was time to tell them my darkest secret.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Teresa’s Secret

  “Did I really call him Roger?” I felt like an amnesia victim who’d lost both memory and time.

  Five heads nodded. “Who is Roger?” Donna asked again.

  After clearing my throat, I slipped my hand into hers to bolster my courage and told my story for the first time ever.

  “Near the end of the first semester of my freshman year of college, I was invited to an off-campus party. Some girls from my dorm knew the guys who were throwing it. The guys were senior football players, and they lived in a house. I was pretty excited to be invited, as you can imagine. When we got to the house, music blared. There were several kegs of beer set up, and the rooms were thick with marijuana smoke. Everyone was having a good time. As the night progressed, I smoked a joint and drank a few beers. I was high, but not out of it. Just feeling good, you know?”

  Five pairs of sympathetic eyes stared at me, urging me to continue. I inhaled a deep breath and went on. “At one point, I had to go to the bathroom. I couldn’t find my friends to ask them where the restroom was. I was looking for them when all of a sudden one of the guys who lived in the house snuck up behind me. He’d been introduced to me earlier in the evening as Roger, the quarterback of the football team. Of course I recognized him right off, because he was one of the most popular guys on campus. Built of pure muscle, he stood over six feet with reddish blond hair, blue eyes, and Robert Redford lo
oks. Apparently, he was smart and one of the few athletes who earned good grades. He was also involved in different clubs on campus and even worked with the Boys and Girls Club and did other volunteer work within the local community. I asked him where the restroom was, and he showed me the way. Although he’d been drinking, he seemed less drunk that most of the other people at the party.”

  My stomach knotted as I recalled what happened next. “I thanked him, but before I could lock the door, Roger pushed his way inside. He slammed the door shut and bolted it. The next thing I knew, I was on my back on the cold tile floor with my jeans being yanked down. I tried to scream, but he mashed his hand over my mouth and nose, nearly suffocating me. I tried to fight back, but he was so much bigger and stronger. As he forced himself into me, the sickening odor of his strong cologne mixed with beer breath made me gag.”

  I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat at the memory. “When it was over, I cried and told him he wouldn’t get away with it. I’d go to the administration and the police. He slapped my face and threatened me. Then he laughed and said he’d tell everyone it was consensual. No one would believe me. He was the golden boy quarterback who could do no wrong. He said he’d tell everyone I was a slutty girl who screwed the star football player and then tried to ruin his good reputation with lies. He also reminded me that I could get suspended from school, and maybe even arrested, if college administration and police found out I’d been smoking pot and drinking underage.”

  “Did you tell them anyway?” Crystal asked.

  “No. I told no one, not even the girls I went to the party with. I didn’t want to get kicked out of school or arrested. I couldn’t do that to my parents. Anyway, I didn’t figure anyone would believe me, just like Roger had said. He was powerful on campus.”