by Emmy Grace
“Kayla, her understudy, but her mother died, so she wasn’t even here for this performance. She was meeting back up with us for the next show.”
“Did she?”
“I assume not since we had to postpone the next performances until we get this Serena issue resolved.”
So murder is an “issue”?
“Were there any other ballerinas that wanted her spot?”
His eyes dart quickly to me and then away. “I’m sure there were many.”
“How about the one you’re seeing?”
“Pardon?” He manages to school his expression, but his Adam’s apple bobs with the gulp he takes.
“Your girlfriend.”
“I don’t have—”
“Don’t bother denying it, Mr. Gibb. The police know all about her.”
“Heidi is just a friend. I know all the top ballerinas. I make it my business to know them, know their work. Their strengths, their weaknesses. It’s my job.”
So her name is Heidi. That ought to make it fairly easy to find out about her.
“You must take your job very seriously.”
“Of course, I do.”
I let that drop. I’ll find out more about this Heidi person, but not from Trenton, I’m sure.
“I also wanted to ask you about the stalker situation. The figurines in particular. Did you ever look into where they came from?”
“No. Why would I? The cops were taking care of it.”
“I thought the police suspected it was a fan, not a stalker?”
“I’m sure they looked into it, though. That’s their job.”
“Right,” I say with a smile, becoming more suspicious by the second.
My stomach chooses that precise moment to give a loud and disturbing gurgle. The kind that, when you hear it on other people, it makes you feel a little queasy.
Trenton frowns.
I laugh nervously.
“Sorry. My stomach’s being a little temperamental this morning.”
“Sounds like it.”
“Well, I’ll let you finish your breakfast. Thank you for your time.”
“No problem.”
Trenton’s head is down and he’s already dismissed me.
But me? I’m far from dismissing Trenton Gibb.
Far from dismissing him.
16
On my way home, I text Regina and remind her that she promised to come and do my makeup for my death-defying leap into Cruz DiSpirito’s arms tonight. After all, it’s partly her fault I only have one good eyebrow.
When I walk through the door, it’s like my mini farm knows the plan for the rest of the day. When I do research with my laptop, it’s like a lazy day for everyone.
Sitting in various positions, scattered in various places all around the living room are pets of every race, color, and creed. Lucy-fur has assumed her customary place by the unlit fireplace, Mr. Jingles is half-asleep on his feet in front of the sofa, Gumbo is at the opposite end of the couch with his eyes trained on the door, and Squishy the parrot is already on his perch in the corner by the window. If Gator could move his cage in by himself, no doubt he would have, and if my fish could swim their way in, they’d probably join, too. It’s the warmest greeting and most comforting sight in my little world.
“Ready for me to do some googlin’, boys and girls?”
Mr. Jingles yawns lazily and Gumbo snorts once.
I kick off my shoes, gather each of us his or her preferred snack, distribute them, and then settle in on my corner of the couch with my laptop, ready to snoop.
As it turns out, Trenton’s girlfriend, Heidi, isn’t too hard to find. I didn’t figure she would be. How many Heidis can there be outside of porn and the Swiss Alps?
Her full name is Heidi Patrice Holmes. She is a twenty-two-year-old ballerina and, according to a ballet publication I stumbled across, she was once touted as the next Serena Flowers. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t get the big break her spectators were hoping for.
In my search, I find several articles that hint at questionable tactics Heidi employed to weed out the competition. One woman in particular was very vocal about Heidi’s vicious ambition. She cited a time when Heidi was her understudy, and how open she was about gaining the lead at any cost. The other ballerina accused Heidi of putting eye drops in her water for two days before the women set out on a Nutcracker production for the holiday season a few years ago. She claims that she was so dizzy and drowsy that she couldn’t perform the first show, and was forced to forfeit the lead to Heidi.
Such a high profile role should’ve landed Heidi in the limelight, but her suspicious behavior only strengthened a steadily growing reputation for dissention. She was thought to be on her way out until she was spotted with Trenton Gibb.
There are a handful of reports and snapshots of the couple at various shows and with a few celebrities. They both denied intimate involvement, but it seemed most people could see right through that.
I lean in to stare at a picture of Heidi. She’s a petite blonde with sharp, angular features and wide, glassy eyes. In every photo, her hair is pulled back severely from her forehead, like her ballerina bun is a permanent fixture on her head. It makes her look like a psychotic doll with that weird ubiquitous gaze.
I shudder and click out of the images. If she showed up at my door in a ballerina outfit looking like that, I’d probably stab her in the eye and run away.
Just as I’m getting ready to exit the myriad articles and sites I had pulled up, one headline grabs my attention. SERENA FLOWERS’ GREATEST THREAT it reads. It goes on to say that the “viciousness of the ballet,” a statement which I find about as congruous as the blackness of white or dirtiness of clean, is on the rise again as Heidi makes her bid to claim Serena’s lead in the Haysman Troupe, which is coincidentally owned by a man she’s been seen with on several occasions. The writer of the piece suggests that he is on the lookout for the foul play Heidi is now known for, and issues a seemingly sincere warning to Serena.
While it doesn’t seem that the world at large took much note of the threat, someone should have, since Serena is now lying in the morgue two towns over.
I lower the lid of my laptop until it snaps shut. My mind is whirring with thoughts and theories and questions. In light of this new information, Trenton Gibb looks guiltier than ever. He might not have been displeased with Serena, but pressure from a girlfriend could’ve changed his tune. And he was in the perfect position to commit the murder, or even sneak a tiny blonde in to let her do the deed before sneaking back off into the night.
After I put on my best Baby face tonight and satisfy my bargain with Felonious, it looks like I’ll have another suspect to track down and check up on. If Heidi Holmes doesn’t have a dang good alibi, she might just pirouette her way straight to the top of my naughty list.
Two hours later, I’m surrounded by my trio of friends. Again.
This time, I’m sitting at my vanity with Regina in front of me doing my makeup and Suzie Lynn behind me fixing my hair. To my left, lounging in the doorway, is Liam. Regina and Suzie Lynn are chatting animatedly about the fact that I get to have Cruz DiSpirito’s hands on me for any length of time, for any reason. I’m just smiling through it all as they work their magic. Liam is doing what he does best—bringing the brood. He can bring a grumpy frown to any situation, no matter how girlie and light.
As Regina and Suzie Lynn primp me, Liam ponders the case. He dropped by to see what I’d been up to, and to tell me that he’d spoken with Clive, and that Serena’s phone still hasn’t been recovered.
“Makes it seem like there was something on it that someone didn’t want found, doesn’t it?”
From the corner of my eye, I see him nod. “Which brings me back to the stalker.”
“Were you able to weasel any information from your bureau buddies?”
“It’s not like a 1-800 number I can call for help any time I want, for god’s sake.”
I adopt an expression of concer
ned outrage. “It should be. You put in your time. You gave them your best years, and for them to throw you out like yesterday’s garbage is—”
Liam interrupts me with a derisive snort. “You’re not really an actress, you know that, right?”
“I wasn’t acting.”
“That was a line if I’ve ever heard one.”
I slide a grin over at him. “But it was good, right?”
Regina guides my face back to her. “I thought it was very convincing. Now stop moving.”
“How many layers are you putting on? Didn’t you just do my cheeks?”
“This adds sparkle. Remember you’re going to be up on a stage. You have to be able to be seen from the back row.”
“Regina, you’re missing the whole point. I don’t want to be seen. From anywhere. I just want to get this over and solve this case. Is that too much to ask? It’s simple.”
“As if anything with you is ever simple,” she mumbles.
“Amen,” Liam grunts.
Suzie Lynn giggles. “Y’all are such fun.” She winds and pins and teases my hair until it’s done up around my head in an elaborate halo of loose curls. “There’s never this much happening in my shop.”
“That’s because this was a quiet town until she showed up.” Liam nods at me. I stick my tongue out at him.
“I can’t help that I bring excitement.”
“Is that what you call it?”
“What do you call it?”
“Chaos. Confusion. Trouble. Luna—”
“All right, all right. I get the point. You hate that I moved to Salty Springs. Blah blah blah.”
I hear his sigh. “I don’t hate that you moved here.”
“You don’t?” My voice is small. For whatever reason, it would really bother me if Liam truly hated that I’m here, if he really felt that I only bring bad things to this town and his life.
“No. You’re just aging me faster than I can keep up with. I didn’t have any gray hair until you got here. Now look.”
He bends down and pushes his face into mine, pointing to a couple of graying hairs among the scruff on his cheeks.
“There are, like, two. And they were already there.”
“No, they weren’t.”
“Yes, they were. I saw them the first time we met.”
“In the dark? In the middle of my pasture?”
“Yep. I’m extremely observant.”
“And able to see so well at night. You must have superpowers other than catnip.”
So much sarcasm.
“I was wearing night vision goggles. Duh.”
“You do realize you can’t see things like that in those, right? That’s not a defensible argument with any rational person.”
“Then why be rational? Why not just go along with me and save yourself some time?”
“Going along with you is how I got these.”
He leans in to look in the mirror. I see Regina’s eyes shift toward him and light up with admiration. Even Suzie Lynn’s hands still as she gawks at Liam. He is one gorgeous man, but I refuse to focus on that. He’s surly and impossible and… ugh! He makes me crazy. That’s all I need to care about. For both our sakes.
It’s quiet all of a sudden and Liam’s gaze snaps to mine in the mirror where I’m watching him now, too. He doesn’t move for the longest time, just stares at me. After a few sizzling seconds, he clears his throat and straightens, backing away.
“I’ll meet you after. We can talk to Cruz together, see if he knows anything about Heidi. Maybe Serena mentioned it to him, or he was aware if something was going on.”
“Sounds good,” I say, nodding at him as he turns to go.
A trio of feminine heads lean back to look around the doorjamb and watch him go.
“That’s all the dinner and a show this girl needs. That man is as fine going as he is coming.” Suzie Lynn makes a nom sound, causing Regina to laugh.
“I’m right there with you. I don’t call him Tasty Cakes for nothing.” Regina holds up her hand and Suzie Lynn smacks it.
“You are one lucky girl, Lucky Boucher,” Suzie declares.
“Why is that?”
“Women have been trying to nab that man since he was seventeen and filling out with all those muscles. No one caught his eye. At least not around here. Not until you showed up.”
“I haven’t caught his eye. I’m like his annoying little sister.”
“He’d be arrested for looking at his sister the way he looks at you. Not to mention… ew!”
“I’m with Suzie,” Regina chimes in. “I think he’s got a thing for you.”
“I think you’re both crazy.”
“Say what you will, one of these days you’ll see it, too.”
I watch Regina and Suzie Lynn grin at each other. Even though I worry about such an eventuality with Liam for obvious reasons, my stomach does a little flippy flutter just thinking about it.
“Y’all better get your heads out of the clouds and get me finished up or I’ll be late for my own embarrassment. They’ll put me in the corner with the dunce hat on.”
At the exact same time, all three of us say the exact same thing.
“Nobody puts Baby in the corner.”
And then we all laugh so hard Regina has to reapply mascara on three different faces.
17
The theater is packed to the gills. I lean away from the part in the curtain and slap a hand to my chest.
“There are so many people out there,” I say with a wheeze.
“What did you expect, sugar plum? There are signs all over town.”
Miss Haddy and Mrs. Stephanopoulos came back to wish for me to “break a leg” before my performance. Miss Haddy is looking particularly pleased with herself for some reason I still can’t figure out.
“I’m beginning to rue the day you gave me the number for Felonious.”
Miss Haddy chuckles, and her belly rolls like it’s full of… well, jelly, not to be too cliché. “Oh, you’ll get used to her. One of these days you’ll be able to help her with something and she’ll go easier on you.”
“What on earth could I help a girl like that with?”
“Boys, I’d say. She’s at that age and she could use some of your outgoing personality.”
“Well, I’d give her a transplant if she’d stop torturing me, but I’m not sure how to go about that.”
“That’s another worry for another day,” she says, patting my arm sweetly. “We’ll be rooting for you, sugar.”
Mrs. S. grunts at me as the two walk away.
I glance at the clock on the wall. “Where is he?” I ask Regina.
“He’ll be here. If not, I guess you’ll have to take Tasty Cakes up on his offer.”
My palms start to sweat just thinking about it. It’s insane that I’d be more nervous being in Liam Dunning’s arms than an actual movie star’s. But I’m beginning to think that’s just me and my crazy life.
“Replacing me already?” Cruz saunters into the backstage area, cool as a cucumber, and looking dashing in his Johnny attire. He hardly even pauses on his way to grab my hand and pull me toward the center of the stage.
I’m trying to dig in my heels, but it’s not working. My shoes are slick as grease on the bottoms, so he’s more or less dragging me along and there’s nothing I can do about it.
He stops in the middle of the stage, turns me to face the curtain, and says, “Stay,” before he walks back to his starting position.
And then, moment by moment, it unfolds just as it’s supposed to. Just like it does in the movie. The spotlight, the music, the dancing, all of it.
As for me, I’ve never been so glad that I spent countless hours watching and rewatching that movie. Beebee told me it was a waste of time, but I argued that the only thing wasting my time was eighth grade algebra. But truthfully, even I’m surprised that I’d have a need to use my Dirty Dancing knowledge before I’d use complicated math.
Look at me being all wrong and stuf
f.
When it comes time for the lift, my heart is racing as I launch my body at Cruz’s. He raises me effortlessly (and steadily) into the air, and holds me there for what feels like an eternity. And when he lowers me back down into his arms, I’m elated, just like Baby was.
Also just like in the movie, people from the crowd get up to dance with us, and I’m so caught up in the moment that I forget about the rest of the scene. I’m not fast enough to stop him when Cruz leans in to kiss me. But when he leans away with that dazed look in his eyes, I quickly realize my mistake.
Crap.
Cruz is staring into my eyes like I just said yes to his proposal when something yanks on his shoulder. It’s Liam, and he’s all thundercloud and strikes of lightning.
“You can take your hands off her now.” His tone is so threatening it almost penetrates Cruz’s thrall.
Almost.
“Back off, bro. You don’t know what’s happening between us.”
Cruz reaches for me again, intent on kissing me with Liam blustering right behind him, but it’s me who stops him this time.
I put my hand in the center of his chest and push. “Cruz, this was just a performance. And it’s over now. Time for you to go.”
“I’m not leaving. Not without you.”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t mean that. You just need to go back to your room for a while. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
At least I hope he will.
Behind him, there is a gaggle of glowing faces, forming a line, ostensibly to get his autograph. Or a dance or something. I don’t know. I’ve never fangirled before.
“Look at the people here to see you. You need to tend to your audience.”
He won’t stop staring at me, so I physically reach up and turn his face away from me and toward the throng of women drooling over him. As soon as his eyes fall on them, several of them squeal. He glances back at me questioningly, still reluctant to leave me. I nudge him toward them.