Angel's Dance

by Heidi Angell

  After Grant’s pushing, Ms. Chofsky had brought them back up to the front and told them the receptionist would help them get in touch with Mr. Lando. The receptionist was less than helpful. She informed them that Mr. Lando would not be in for several hours and said that she had no way of getting in touch with him.

  Clear wanted to walk around and see what else she might find, but the receptionist insisted that they could not just let people “wander around” and that Ms. Chofsky had a lesson and could not escort them. It seemed that after Ms. Chofsky’s hurried little chat, no one was available to show them around.

  Grant was pacing the lobby and Clear knew that his mood was getting more foul by the minute. She was tempted to suggest that maybe they should go somewhere else for a while, but at the same time her gut said that this is where they needed to look to find out what had happened to Belladonna and Kat. She felt that somehow Mr. Lando would be able to give them more to go on, even though the picture looked nothing like the man from her vision of Kat and Bella before.

  Yet, that vision bothered her. No one could look as hideous as that man. She was fairly certain that the image was clouded with Kat’s negative feelings about the person, but at Kat’s age the image should still be based on some sort of semblance of the real person. Perspective was such a tricky thing. If Kat had such negative feelings about the man, she wouldn’t have gone off with him willingly. But it was hard to tell what was going on here. Chasing her thoughts was doing no good.

  She was just about to suggest to Grant that they go somewhere else and come back later when an older gentleman breezed in the door. Immediately Clear knew that this was Mr. Lando. He was a good ten years older than his portrait in the lobby, but she could feel that this was him. He walked right past Clear and Grant, up to the receptionist and grabbed the stack of mail. When the young woman started to speak, he held his hand up cutting her off. She sat quietly as he continued to thumb through the mail. Clear gave Grant a meaningful look and he immediately approached the man.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Lando?” he said politely. The man rudely held up a hand and said, without even looking at Grant, “Make an appointment my dear boy, I am a busy man.”

  Clear watched the storm cloud cross Grant’s features, but when he spoke his voice was calm and authoritative. “Yes sir, as am I.” He pulled out his badge and held it up. “So I would appreciate it if you would put the mail down and take five seconds to determine if you are really too busy to speak to me now.”

  The man looked up at Grant, saw the badge, shrugged and set the mail down. He was extraordinarily calm under the circumstances. “Oh my, the police,” he said drolly. “Well, it can’t be helped, I suppose.” He waved for Grant to follow him and said to the secretary. “Do push back my meetings, dear. This is, I am sure, highly important.” Clear could feel the sarcasm, but was not sure anyone else heard it. Slightly in awe of the man, she followed Grant into a corner office.

  The man turned abruptly, eyed her and smiled. It was a very predatory smile that made Clear’s skin crawl. “Well, now aren’t you absolutely lovely,” he murmured, approaching her. It took everything she had not to cringe back away from him. Her gut instinct said he would have enjoyed that too much. “Such a lovely neckline… and those arms… hmmm… you must be a dancer.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” Grant murmured. “She is my partner.” Clear did not miss the very territorial sound in his voice, but at the moment she was too uncomfortable by Mr. Lando’s interest to really object.

  “Indeed,” Mr. Lando stated as if the subject were closed. “A police officer? Such a waste of a perfect silhouette,” he practically purred. “Now… you are not local police. I know all of them. Let me see that badge again?”

  Grant shrugged, handing the badge over. Mr. Lando scrutinized it thoroughly. “Montana? Now who could possibly be interested in me in Montana?” He gave Grant a smug look. “Of course, you realize that you really have no authority here.”

  “Well, be that as it may, if you call Detective Bryce with Chicago PD, he will vouch that I am here helping him on a case. A case that has led us to your doorstep.”

  “Detective Bryce? Isn’t that the fellow who was looking into my dancer who had run off? What was her name?”

  Clear felt a surge of nausea. This man was not a good man! She just couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was about him that was so… oily, skeezy…. What was it? She tried to peg down the feelings while also following the line of questioning.

  “Belladonna Johnson,” Grant supplied caustically.

  The man snapped his fingers. “Ah yes, that was it. Beautiful girl, wonderful lines. Not a bad dancer… hmm… She ran away in Chicago after the performance, as I recall. How can we assist you?”

  “We aren’t so sure she ran away,” Grant stated calmly. “Another dancer has gone missing under very similar circumstances.”

  Clear felt the spike of interest in the man, but absolutely no guilt or fear. Either he truly didn’t know anything about this or he was a sociopath. In which case, this line of talk wasn’t going to get her anywhere!

  “Well, it wasn’t one of our dancers. I’m sure I would have heard by now. So what is your interest in our studio? Unless you are just retracing everything, same as that other detective.” He flicked his fingers in distain.

  “You don’t think it is strange that two female dancers of similar age disappeared?” Grant challenged.

  “To be honest? Not really. These girls are all so young and reckless. The good ones don’t want to wait to reach stardom. Dancing has a very small marketability after a girl turns 30, you know. Have you tried looking for them in New York? Well, that is presuming the other girl was any good. That is where most of them head. More work available.”

  “Let’s just focus on Belladonna, for now? We were informed that you were giving her private instruction.”

  The man didn’t bat an eyelash and didn’t confirm nor deny.

  “Is that true?”

  “I suppose technically, yes. She was in the show and needed some extra work. Several of them were receiving extra training because they could not keep up. Not uncommon.”

  “All of them were getting this extra training from you?” Grant needled.

  “Well, of course. I was the director! Can’t have an amateur show, can we?”

  “Why would you cast people who would need extra work?” Clear asked, seemingly innocently.

  “Ah, my dear girl. We all need some more work, don’t we? But the show is not an open audition. All the performers come directly from my school. Sort of a way to showcase our talent and to promote the school. Some of my projects are… a little more… ambitious than all of the students can handle. We pick the very best and even then, some fall short of our expectations.” He shrugged as if in apology.

  “So, Ms. Johnson fell short?” Grant pried.

  “I suppose that depends on how you look at it. She was very good for her age. She had the raw talent. She did not have the time to devote to personal development, what with school and all. She ended up doing passably well, considering. But it took a lot of extra work.”

  “Yes, about that work. Another one of your teachers showed us the dance room used for private instruction. Interesting stain on the floor,” Grant probed.

  “Stain? Oh, from the blood. Right mess, that. I am going to have to replace the whole damn floor!” Mr. Lando replied glibly.

  Clear groaned inwardly. Nothing seemed to ruffle this man.

  “Care to explain how you got blood on your dance floor?” Grant challenged.

  The man scoffed at him, “Oh, I see, you are one of those people! My dear boy, dancing is a very difficult and demanding sport. You can glower at me all you want, but dancers go through as rigorous training as any other athlete. They break bones and bleed for the dance. Literally. Check any of our upper level dancers and you will find most of them have bloody toes and have broken plenty of bones.”

  Grant arched his eyebrow at the man.
“That is more blood than from a couple of toes. Are you telling me you don’t remember how it happened?”

  “To be honest, I wasn’t there when it happened. My guess is a broken nose, but no one will fess up to it. If they did, I would make them pay for the damn floor.”

  “Wait, let me get this straight. Someone used your private studio without your knowledge and you come in the next day to all that blood and just shrug it off?” Clear demanded incredulously. She was getting very flustered by her seeming inability to read this man.

  “There was no blood. They cleaned up after themselves. The bleach ruined the floor. Do you think I should have called the police over such a trivial thing as a ruined floor?”

  “When did this happen?” Grant asked.

  “I don’t know, a few weeks ago. What does this have to do with the Johnson girl? It happened after she ran away.”

  At that statement the world went dark and Clear hit the ground.

  Chapter Eleven

  Grant didn’t know what to make of anything that was going on. Clear passing out was completely unexpected and he was immensely surprised how quickly Mr. Lando had reacted to the situation. As soon as Clear had begun to fall the man was quickly running to her, checking her pulse, feeling her head and then barking for the receptionist to bring a cool cloth and a glass of water.

  The man then applied the cool compress to the back of Clear’s neck and flicked a little water on her face. She came around pretty quickly, but her whole body was trembling and she seemed a little out of it. Mr. Lando carefully helped her sit up against the wall and then gave her the glass of water and told her to take small sips.

  Catching Grant watching him, the man shrugged. “Dancers collapse a lot. Pretty standard procedure. They all work themselves too hard and succumb at some point.”

  Grant ignored the man’s commentary, having experienced Clear’s psychic-induced collapses before. “Are you alright?” he asked her tentatively, filing the man’s ministrations away for the next time she collapsed. She nodded shakily, adjusting the cool compress on the base of her neck as it slipped.

  Grant wanted to kick the man out of the room so he could question Clear, but figured that would be overstepping his bounds, since this was the man’s office. He decided that the best thing to do was to step into the hall and call Bryce to see what Bryce had gotten on this guy. Grant’s gut said that the guy was an ass and creepy, but he seemed genuinely surprised about the blood being an issue. He was a pompous ass, but that was not technically a crime.

  Bryce answered on the third ring and Grant was surprised to hear Laura talking in the background. He took a deep breath and forced himself not to ask questions. It didn’t matter.

  “Eh… Grant? What are you up to? Didn’t figured you’d be ready to come back so soon or I wouldn’t of left you,” Bryce muttered.

  “I just had a couple questions about your line of investigation on the Johnson girl.”

  There was an audible sigh of annoyance from the other end, but after no response, Grant continued, “Did you talk to her dance instructor?”

  “Shit, like I am supposed to remember that! I talked to a bunch of the dance people. They were the first people I talked to because they were the ones who were with her when she took off.”

  “This is an older gentleman, maybe 50.”

  “Right… the pompous ass that owns the place. Sure. He was actually the one who reported her missing. She hadn’t shown up for practice or something?’

  “What was your take on him?”

  “Isn’t that what your little profiler girl is for?” Bryce replied caustically.

  Grant steeled himself against taking the bait. “Fine, but I figured you would be interested in checking out a blood clean-up in the studio that the girl used most. I don’t know who you want to call to come in or if you even want to. Just giving you a heads up.”

  “Wait, what?” Bryce stammered. “What makes you think this is connected to the disappearance?”

  “My gut,” Grant muttered. “Whatever happened in that room was more than a nose bleed. I don’t know that it was the Johnson girl, but something happened in that room and since she is the only one missing, I am thinking that she had something to do with the blood. Plus her previous instructor was more than a little skittish about the whole thing. There is something… not right about her. Not my job to lean on her, though. That is yours.” He hung up with great satisfaction.

  Clear was still feeling a little disoriented and could not begin to process everything that had happened in the few minutes she had been out. She still didn’t even know what had caused it. Grant had left her alone in the office with Mr. Lando. He made her uncomfortable, but she couldn’t place why. His attitude and treatment of her was completely different from the why he had been so glib and pompous with Grant.

  “Are you feeling better, my dear?” he asked in concern.

  Clear shrugged. “I guess. I… I don’t know what happened. It was very… strange.”

  “Hmm… perhaps you had not eaten enough? Maybe you haven’t drunk enough water?” He shrugged almost apologetically. “At least, that is usually what happens when my dancers pass out. I am hardly an expert. I would say we should call a doctor, but it you are feeling better….” he let the question trail off.

  “No, I am sure that would not be necessary.” Clear responded and watched him visibly relax. She would have guessed he was worried about insurance, except that his emotions were all on the surface. There was no true depth to his feelings of concern for her. No true depths of worry about anything. Although his tact with her was different from his early interaction with Grant, there was no difference in his emotional climate. Against her will, she shivered.

  Seeing her shiver, he removed the cloth from the back of her neck. He was deft and proficient, demonstrating that he dealt with fainting women a fair amount. That thought alone made Clear wonder if there was a reason he had such experience. She suspected that his dancers drove themselves to such extremes at his insistence.

  Despite her saying that she was feeling better, she didn’t truly begin to feel better until Grant came back into the room. She looked to him and could feel his stormy mood returning.

  “I just got off the phone with Detective Bryce. I am sure that he will be in touch with you about that floor sometime soon. I suggest that you not replace that floor without talking to him first.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it would make you look guilty,” Grant responded harshly. He turned to Clear. “Are we done here, or is there anything else you want to see?”

  As much as Clear just wanted to be done with this place, she knew there was more to see here. “I think I would like to see the costumes from the Chicago performance.” she started, trying to think of a good excuse to justify this request.

  “Hmm, good thought. Particularly Ms. Johnson’s costumes. Do you think that can be arranged Mr. Lando? Also, I think we should have a list of all the dancers that were in the performance and any contact information you have.”

  “I will get my receptionist right on that. I really don’t have time to be escorting you around the building…” He rubbed his temple in irritation and it was the first real emotion Clear felt from him. “Let me see if I can find someone who can help show you around to whatever you want.” He walked out of the room to make arrangements and Grant immediately turned on Clear.

  “We probably don’t have much time, so tell me everything you can think of so I can know what you know.”

  Grant was feeling slightly overwhelmed after the information dump. Most of what Clear had told him only reinforced what his gut had told him. Unfortunately her psychic ability wasn’t any better in helping them get a court-ordered warrant if it came down to it. He was pretty sure that it would come to that with Mr. Lando. Part of him thought ‘screw it! This case’s conviction is Bryce’s job.’ The information he was getting wasn’t supposed to be about solving this Johnson girl’s disappearance, it was just the st
eps to get him closer to finding Kat.

  The other part of him was a cop and urged him to catch these bastards for Mrs. Johnson. To at least give the poor woman some closure. He knew that Clear thought the girl was dead, even though she hadn’t so much said it. He also knew that she hadn’t told him because that would mean that there was a chance Kat was or would be dead soon. He was torn between doing his job the best he could as he had always done, and skipping this shit to get his baby girl back alive. He had to tamp down the beast that said to beat the shit out of everyone in this place until someone told him what he needed to know; starting with Mr. Lando and Ms. Chofsky, who both seemed to know something and were somehow involved in all of this.

  How he knew, he couldn’t begin to say. Clear had agreed with him about Ms. Chofsky, but was still out on Mr. Lando.

  The receptionist came back in and handed Grant a list. He glanced at it, noting that phone numbers were provided for all of the dancers. He groaned when he realized there were over 200 names on the list.

  “Mr. Lando had to leave for a luncheon. I am making arrangements to have Ms. Johnson’s dance partner, Tony, give you an extended tour. Mr. Lando says you are to have access to anywhere you want to go.” The young woman glanced out the door. “And there is Tony now.” She led them out into the reception area again.

  A young man was standing in the waiting area looking a little nervous and confused. Grant caught a glimpse of Miss Chofsky turning the corner. He wondered how much she had told the kid.

  He extended his hand to Grant and Grant was impressed by his firm grip. “I am Tony Goulet. I understand that you are the police and are investigating Bella’s disappearance?” Grant glanced to Clear and quirked his brow. First person to call her by the name Clear knew her by. Interesting.

  “And you were her dance partner for the show, right?” Grant asked.