Timestep to Murder

by Norma Lehr

  Chapter 3

  That afternoon, Melanie Mars held up the dancers and photographer for forty-five minutes. She waltzed into the Celebrity Room just as the photographer, a wiry man pacing nervously, checked his watch and began gathering up his equipment to go down to the gazebo where he had a photo appointment with a newly engaged couple. After Renee gave Melanie a sour look and Gail pointed out that late people were incredibly arrogant, they all settled down, put on their performing smiles, and did a group pose. Tall Melanie leaned forward in the middle.

  Later that evening at the Circle Bar lounge, everyone had ordered a drink and some were motioning the cocktail waitress for a second when Melanie swept in, draped in a shimmering black evening dress cut almost to her navel. No one at the table seemed to notice, and if they did, they didn’t let on. For the previous hour, the chatter had mostly concerned old times in New York City. The laughter ceased and faces grew serious as Gail recalled favorite dancers they hadn’t seen or heard from over the years.

  Melanie plopped her martini next to Abby’s wineglass and placed a knee on the chair seat, her body language sending a message loud and clear that she wasn’t leaving but hadn’t quite decided to stay. Either that, Abby snickered to herself, or her dress is too tight and she can’t bend at the waist to sit. Either way, with her arrival, a tense silence fell over the group. To get the conversation going again, Abby suggested that they go around the table and give an update of what they were doing now. After all, they’d covered most of the past.

  Melanie removed her propped knee and regained her posture with an attitude. “Well, that’ll take forever.” She gave a bored yawn. “Why delve into that tonight?” She surveyed the group, hesitated, leaned over the table, and lowered her voice. “However, if there’s some dirt to dish, I’m all ears.”

  Dana winked at the others. “Then you better stay. If you go, you’ll be the first dirt we dish.”

  “I should care.” She shirked her shoulder. “Not one of you here liked me before. You were all jealous of me, and,” she looked directly at Gail, “some still are. I can tell nothing’s changed. Go ahead and dish.” She gave a sardonic laugh and angled off toward the bar.

  A deep silence descended upon the table before Abby spoke up. “I never really disliked her. I just never got to know her socially. I do recall her being difficult at times on stage.”

  Gail huffed. “She pulled a lot of shifty deals when we were all together. Not only at rehearsals, as I’m sure some of you remember. She was always broke and borrowing money from me with her sad stories. Never bothered to repay a cent.”

  “I hope you kept track.” Dana paused for emphasis and raised an eyebrow. “She’s loaded now. Hit her up for what she owes you.”

  Gail pursed her lips and nodded. “I heard about the lottery. I just might do that.”

  Abby knew all too well how Renee felt, so she focused her attention on Blythe. “You’ve been awfully quiet. You two shared an apartment for a while. Did she cause you any grief?”

  “Grief?” Blythe drawled, leaning her head to one side. “Well, maybe a problem or two. Let’s talk about now and forget Melanie.” She nodded toward the bar where Melanie, perched stiffly on a stool, was busy talking to a younger man wearing a dealer’s vest. “If she chooses not to tell us what her life is like now or join us on our trip down memory lane, then we’d best let her be.” Blythe’s easy speech and relaxed posture seemed to have a calming effect on the others.

  Either that or the wine was taking effect. Abby checked her half-empty glass. Could be both. “Okay. Works for me. So how about you start, Blythe? What have you been up to?”

  Blythe, sans her floppy felt hat but still wearing the long linen dress, had added a hip-slung belt with purple tassels. She reached into an oversize woven handbag and removed her canvas wallet. After flipping through a plastic holder, she slipped out a picture and studied it. “My daughter, LaToma. She’s taking classes at U.C. Santa Cruz.” She passed the picture to Abby.

  “What a beauty!” Abby passed it on to Renee.

  “She looks familiar,” Renee said. “She must be a model.”

  As the photo made the rounds, everyone agreed.

  “She’s got your exquisite high cheekbones.” Renee leaned over Gail’s shoulder for another peek. “And those eyes ... I know I’ve seen her somewhere before.”

  Blythe smiled proudly. “She’s not a model, but she could be. Yes, her cheekbones are mine, but her skin’s lovelier. No freckles, and she doesn’t have my springy hair.”

  “Hey, those freckles and that chestnut hair keep you looking like a kid,” Gail commented. “If we’d just met, I’d never believe you had a daughter that age.”

  Dana was the last to take a look. “You’re so lucky to have that girl.” She reluctantly passed the photo back to Blythe.

  “I know.” Blythe gazed at LaToma’s face one more time before she slipped the picture back into the case. “I am lucky. She’s also my partner in business. We own the Double H Herb Farm in Santa Cruz.” She looked around the table. “Double H stands for Health and Happiness. We also run a cozy little tea room in the front of the store. LaToma takes over the business on Tuesdays when I teach at the senior center. I lead a Yoga class in the morning and a tap class in the afternoon. I also coach a sharp group of senior hoofers. We perform mostly at retirement homes and convalescent hospitals. During the holidays our schedule’s tight. We’re really in demand.”

  She dug in her bag and pulled out packets of tea. “I’ve brought a few of our herb concoctions for you to sample.” She carefully laid them out on the table, and the interest was high as each woman picked one up and read the label. “A nice hot cup should help you relax after a hard day of rehearsal. Ahhh.” She held up a bag and sniffed the mixture. Her eyelids drooped dramatically. “They’re all night-time teas.”

  Gail moved to the edge of her seat and impatiently raised a finger. “That’s great. How thoughtful! When I travel I always have trouble sleeping.” A light flush touched her cheeks. “Especially when I don’t have Paul to cuddle up to.” She rummaged in her purse and pulled out a colored flyer. “I’ve brought something, too. Protein drinks to give you energy in the mornings.”

  “Okay,” Abby said enthusiastically “Energy drinks, huh? You’re on next, Gail.”

  Though all eyes were on her, Gail focused on Blythe. “We’re practically neighbors, you know. We’re only a half hour away from each other. We’ve gotta stay in touch now. My hubby, Paul Danzinger, and I own a health club in San Jose. Well, we’re actually outside of San Jose in Saratoga.” She raised an eyebrow and looked around at the others. “Saratoga’s an upscale town where there’s big money. Thankfully most of the money folk who live there choose to work out.” She adjusted the shoulder straps on her emerald green top. “I teach Tap-aerobics to adults three days a week and two evening classes on the weekends.”

  Dana leaned forward. “I’ll bet you have children, too.”

  “We do,” Gail said. “I should have brought photos, but I forgot. Paul has two sons from a previous marriage; both are in college. And we have one son together. He’s in high school.” Her eyes brightened. “I wanted to tell you about these high energy, low carb protein drinks I developed and manufactured specifically for dancers.” She held up the flyer. “Powrdanz, after our name, Danzinger, which sounds like dance, right?”

  They all nodded and murmured in agreement.

  “Well, I have a bunch of single servings in plastic packs for everyone to sample. I’ll bring them to rehearsal in the morning. They’re easy. Just mix with water. Eight ounces should really get you jazzed. So far I’ve developed three flavors: Grape Vine, Berry Shuffle, and Apricot Pineapple Riff.”

  “I love it,” Abby said. “They’re all named after dance steps. Clever!”

  Gail nodded. “I thought so. We have a website, and I’m marketing the powders on the Internet. Ten dance studios in northern California have already placed orders.”

  Dana looke
d past everyone to the bar. Melanie had slid from her stool and was smoothing her hands over her hips to straighten her dress. While Melanie slithered in their direction, Dana took a soft pack of cigarettes from her purse and lit one up. She took a big draw and shot a spew of smoke over her head. “Looks like most of us are in partnerships. Melanie and I own a dance academy in San Diego, as I mentioned earlier. Before we leave here, Gail, I’ll place an order for your Powrdanz.” She licked her lips. “Can’t wait to taste your Berry Shuffle.”

  Melanie, drink in hand, walked up in time to hear Dana’s last comments. “What are you ordering for the academy now, Dana?”

  “Dana looked uncomfortable. “Well, we can talk about it later.” Melanie gave a firm shake of the ice in her drink before she downed it. “I’ve been flirting with that darling man over at the bar.” She patted her chest and let out a small burp. “See the one in the bright colored vest? He’s single and absolutely charming.” She reached for a cocktail napkin and dabbed at the corners of her shiny, painted lips. “If I was five years older, I could really go for him.”

  Renee scowled at Melanie. “Five years older? What are you talking about? That guy isn’t a day over twenty-five, if that.”

  Melanie ignored her, took a deep breath, and forced a cough. “If Dana will put that thing out, I’ll sit and chat.”

  Dana stared hard at her and intentionally let the cigarette droop from her mouth. Melanie harrumphed “Well, see you all in the morning.”

  Abby took a sip of wine. “Try to be on time for rehearsal, Melanie. We don’t want to upset the dance coach the first day. If we can make it on time, so can you.”

  “Well, well, well,” Melanie narrowed her eyes. “Who died and left you in charge?” Her words slurred. “Jan’s the coach. Don’t you forget it.” She stumbled a little on her way out of the lounge.

  Renee began to laugh. “Did she mean it or was she joking when she said that if she were older, she’d go after that guy?”

  Dana shrugged. “She meant it. She’s had a couple of face lifts, and now she thinks she looks twenty.”

  Gail snickered. “I don’t know. Maybe she wasn’t aging well before she had the work done, but her nose had to be better looking than it is now.” Gail stared over at Dana as a thin stream of smoke rose to the ceiling. “I hate to preach, but I have to agree with Melanie. Smoking’s so bad for you, and it really ages a person.”

  Dana slumped and nodded in agreement. “I quit two years ago when they had the Great American Smoke-out. I started up again when Melanie ... well, forget that, and then our business spiraled. I’m planning to quit in November when they have the Smoke-out again. I’ve really been short of breath since I got here. Must be the altitude. Whatever, it’s been a wake-up call.” She gave a hoarse cough. “I promise I won’t smoke around any of you while I’m here. Mainly I do it to irritate her. Before she quit, she smoked two packs a day and had drawstring wrinkles like you wouldn’t believe around her mouth.”

  Dana stood, stretched, and adjusted the cuffs on her white satin blouse. “Okay. That’s it. I’m weary. See you all in the a.m. Sleep tight.” She stopped and turned back. “Thought you should know. I don’t have kids. Waited too long. I put all my energy into the academy.” She looked at Blythe and Gail and her eyes welled up.

  Why? Abby wondered, as Dana shuffled off.

  Twenty minutes later, on their way out of the lounge, Renee turned to Abby. “Did you notice Dana when she hesitated in the lobby and spoke to Jan? Their conversation looked pretty intense.” Renee stopped short. “Look. Now Gail’s over at the roulette table. She’s standing next to Jan and talking right up in her face. Check it out. Jan’s backed away from her and is purposely shaking her head.

  “I’ll bet Gail wants center stage for the performances. That’s always been her goal, to get Melanie’s spot. She’s only, or was only, a half-inch shorter than Melanie. I remember her doing stretching exercises before every rehearsal. Blythe once told me, in confidence, that Gail had a pulley hooked to the ceiling in her apartment with a strap that fit under her chin. She’d do deep knee bends wearing that contraption, hoping to lengthen her neck. Interesting, huh?”

  Abby’s mouth dropped open. “I knew Gail was competitive with Melanie, but I didn’t know she took it that far.”

  Renee sniffed. “From what I observed tonight, looks like she’s going after center stage again. I hope Gail wins. A lift in the heel of her tap shoes would do it. Maybe I’ll suggest it, just for fun.”

  “And if Jan finds out?”

  “Gail can remove them. What can Jan do? Fire her? It’s not like we’re making big bucks here. We didn’t sign a contract. I say, let Gail have her day.”

  “There shouldn’t be a problem. They’ll both be in the center, with two of us on each side.”

  “Yeah,” Renee agreed, “but Gail seems loaded for bear.”

  Abby smiled to herself. She knew Renee well enough to conclude that her friend probably wouldn’t mention the idea of using lifts to Gail. Renee’s resentment toward Melanie for stealing Tom periodically swept her into a world of revenge fantasies that never materialized. “Come on. Let’s get to sleep. I’m tired.”

  Renee left reluctantly, looking back toward Gail at the roulette table. “That was nice when Gail shared that she had a hard time sleeping without Paul. Made me feel kind of envious. How about you?”

  Abby shook her head. “Not a bit. I sleep okay alone, and there’s nothing wrong with being single. We’ve both done all right on our own. Starduds is thriving, and your interior design business has finally taken off. I really don’t think I could handle a relationship right now. I’m too busy.”

  “From what I’ve seen, that security guy you drove up here with seems pretty interested.” Renee gave her friend a little nudge. “I’ve noticed how you perk up when he stops by the store.”

  “Blade Garret?” Abby affected a ho-hum attitude. “He runs a detective agency. Gumshoe Private Investigations. Clever name, huh?”

  “He’s a cop? Wow! What’s he doing working at the mall?”

  “He worked there full-time while he got his business together. Now, it’s just Saturdays. He’s a retired cop from L.A.”

  “So when are you seeing him again? You can still have lunch with him on Saturdays, can’t you? You’ve got to eat.”

  Abby sniffed. “Actually, we might be seeing him this weekend. He said he’s coming to the Celebrity Room to watch us dance.”

  Renee came to a standstill. “Get out of here! You mean he’s coming to watch you dance.”

  Abby laughed. “He wants to see our high kicks.”

  “Well, when he gets here, keep him away from Melanie. If she thinks you’re interested, or he’s interested in you, she’ll go after him.”

  “Look. If Melanie Mars is his type, he most certainly isn’t mine.”

  “Touché,” Renee agreed. She paused a moment. “Okay. Time to discuss business. Gail took me aside. She wants to make an appointment to go down to Saratoga and give her an estimate to redo a living room in a condo that’s in escrow. If you can get away from the shop, come with me, and we’ll make a day of it. We can work out at her gym and have lunch. That town is a delight, and who knows? We might meet one of those rich guys Gail was talking about.”

  Abby chuckled. “Gail didn’t say they were single. She said they worked out at their gym.”

  “Think positive.” Renee picked up her pace. “You never know what lies around the next corner. Money would be nice.”

  “Yeah, but it isn’t the big ‘All.’ We’ve got our kids. You have Josh, and I’ve got the twins, even though we don’t see them that often. That’s more than Dana has. If we’re lucky, someday, when they settle down and get married, we’ll have grandchildren.”

  Renee made a face. “Grandkids, huh? I really don’t want to think about that until I find someone to hook up with.”

  They left through the front door, turned left at the corner of the building, and headed for the gat
ed wooden steps that led down to the three chalets tucked into the hillside. The buildings were separated by stairways, and each had a private wooden deck overlooking the lake.

  Renee stopped before opening their gate. “I didn’t hear Her Highness mention any kids, did you? It’s hard to determine if one of those four diamonds she’s sporting is a wedding ring.” She gazed through the tall pine and sighed deeply. “If she does have a child, I’d be curious to see a picture. Could be Tom’s, you know.”

  Abby turned toward Renee. “So, if she had his child, then what? Will that make you feel better or worse? I wish you’d quit torturing yourself.”

  They opened the gate but paused when angry voices erupted from chalet number 3. Dana’s place.

  Renee squeezed Abby’s wrist. “Whoa. What’s going on down there? That’s Dana yelling at Melanie, and she sounds really mad.”

  “Yeah,” Abby agreed. “What’s Melanie doing there, anyway? She was tippin’ drunk when she left the lounge. She’s been on Dana’s back since they arrived. It makes me wonder how they stay business partners.”

  Renee put a finger to her lips. “Maybe that’s the problem. Shhh. The door’s opening, and they’ll think we’re snooping.”

  Abby marched down the steps. “I really don’t care. I just hope they don’t plan to argue all night. Our place is directly between both of theirs, and I want to get a good night’s sleep.”

  Melanie charged out on Dana’s deck, stomped up the steps without seeing Abby and Renee, and, holding onto the rail, marched down to the Monroe Chalet and slammed her door. When Abby and Renee reached their deck, Dana was out on hers, lighting up.

  They both waved, and Abby called out, “Goodnight, Dana.”

  Dana waited a long moment with her head down before she raised it. “Abby, if you’re not too tired, can you come over for a few minutes? I really need to vent before we start this gig.”

  Abby’s shoulders slumped. Renee gave her a little nudge. “Go on over. Find out what’s happening. Sounds like she needs someone right now.”