by Norma Lehr
Outside she eyed the tower with its reflecting windows. Was someone still watching her? Abby was sure someone was. Was her watcher the hooded shadow? She exited the deserted parking area and boldly stared at the windows until she wound up next to the deserted pool area. The sun had gone down, and twilight on the lake would quickly turn to black. She scurried past the wrought-iron fence toward her chalet.
Renee opened the door before Abby could. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you for hours. Fromer said to stick close, and I was getting concerned.”
“I’ve been busy looking around trying to find Gail. You haven’t seen her, have you?
“I just left her at the bar. We had a glass of wine. She was shaken after that detective finished talking to her. She was the first one he snagged when she and Blythe got back from South Shore. Gail said it was Blythe’s idea to drive over and look around, and Gail happily agreed, eager to try her luck at the big casinos. They got separated, and Gail thinks Blythe ditched her on purpose. I tried to reason with her, but she wouldn’t listen. They finally hooked up again at my convertible in the lot behind Harrah’s, where Gail waited for Blythe for over an hour—or so she says.” Renee snickered. “Blythe wouldn’t tell her where she’d been, and that made Gail really mad.”
Abby dropped into a wicker chair. “That’s strange. Don’t you think?”
Renee shrugged. “I guess. I always thought Blythe was a bit weird, and those two never really got on, but I don’t see Blythe being that inconsiderate. She seems so sweet, but then, who knows? She might be the one who told Fromer about my old vendetta with Melanie.” Renee picked up the Powrdanz from the end table. “Did Gail give you another packet?”
Abby shook her head. “I took it from Blythe’s room.” She went on to explain how the maid had let her in. “Remember the pink froth around Melanie’s mouth? She had a berry Powrdanz that morning at rehearsal.”
“Get out!” Renee tossed the packet aside. “You think Gail might have poisoned Melanie? Why? Oh, yeah. Don’t tell me. I know how your mind works. You think she might have done it to get center stage.” Renee laughed. “That’s way out there. I don’t think Detective Fromer would buy that as a motive.”
“It crossed my mind, I admit, but someone could have added the poison to the Powrdanz to make it look like Gail did it. Who knows?” Abby crossed over to the closet area and began rapping with her knuckles on the wall.
Renee followed her. “What’s up? What’re you doing?”
“The detective told us that once an old tunnel led under the casino to these chalets.”
Renee joined in on the rapping. “He also said it had been boarded up ages ago. Everything sounds solid now.”
“Where do you think it begins?”
“I know where it starts—that ski-locker door to your right as you leave the Indian Room. Fromer pointed it out to me. The tunnel was dug in the thirties during prohibition. He said it extended under the casino and ended at the chalets.” Renee knocked on the closet wall again. “He explained that all Frank’s friends who entertained here—Marilyn, The Rat Pack, and all of his pals—stayed in these chalets and used the tunnel to avoid autograph hounds.
Abby was stunned. “Fromer told you all of that? I can’t believe it. He tells you about the poison and the tunnel and doesn’t tell me anything.”
Renee smiled coyly. “Either he suspects me and wants to see my reaction, or he likes me. I’m hoping it’s the latter.”
Abby hoped so, too. Renee would never even think of harming anyone, and when she spoke to the detective again, she’d make a point of telling him so. “Can we go through that ski-locker door and take a look? Didn’t Fromer tell us it had been boarded up?”
“Not that door, but it’s locked tight. I already tried it. It’s locked until ski season opens. I wanted to surprise you for a change. I even asked at the desk for a tour, but they shook their heads. No one’s allowed down there. The manager has the keys and also has to give the okay, and she won’t be back until Sunday night.”
“Don’t worry.” Abby tapped her brow. “I’ll find a way. I’m getting adept at breaking and entering. Well, I haven’t broken any locks as yet.” Maybe she’d broken the law, though, by removing evidence. And wasn’t there a law against ‘criminal trespass’?
She quickly changed the subject. “I’m meeting Blade for dinner this evening before the disco. He wants to talk to me alone. He also said he has information about Dana that might interest me. I’ll explain when we meet at the Biltmore or when we get back from the disco.”
“Are you sure you want me butting in?” Renee said as she removed a red dress from the closet.
Abby blushed. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, I see,” Renee winked. “All business, is it? All right, then. Let’s meet in the Cabaret instead of the lobby. I might go early, but not to crash your party. Who knows what handsome single guy will be wandering around there searching for a seasoned Disco Diva?”
Abby eyed the body-hugging tube dress with the jagged hemline trimmed in rhinestones. “You’re planning to wear the dress you brought for the cast party?”
Renee went to the mirror and held it against her. “Sure. Why not? The way things are going, I don’t think there’ll be a cast party.” She twirled around and faced Abby. “We bought these dresses to wear in Tahoe, and this might be our only chance.”
Abby took her dress from the closet. It was a pink, stretch-satin sheath with a gathered front and a chiffon ruffle hem. “Is it too fancy to wear to dinner?”
“Wear it,” Renee said. “Dazzle the good looking cop. Just make sure he doesn’t take you for pizza” She went into the bathroom to try on her party dress.
“Ex-cop,” Abby called through the door.
“Be sure and let me know the info on Dana,” Renee said, raising her voice to be heard. “I bet he found out she’s a lesbian—or was. If that’s it, I wonder who told him.” She came out and looked to Abby for approval. “What d’ya think?”
“Perfect! You’ll knock ’em dead!”
Chapter 11
While she waited for Blade to arrive, Abby sat in a wicker chair and wondered why she had consented to go to dinner with him in the first place. Earlier, over at the Biltmore, his attitude had been a bit harsh when he insisted he see her alone for dinner. Had he really insisted? Or was she overreacting? He did say he had things he wanted to discuss. At the time, she should have asked why Renee couldn’t join them. They were all involved in this same murderous mess. Considering his attitude, Abby didn’t consider his offer a real date. Only a discussion over dinner. What could be so important Renee couldn’t hear?
Let it go. Stop jumping to conclusions.
What if it were a real date? Would that be so bad? Perhaps if he would stop telling her what to do. Her independent spirit bristled when men started ordering her around, even one as attractive as Blade. He hadn’t been all that pushy … maybe she was too out of practice to know a good man when she saw one.
Maybe Blade figured Renee talked too much. She put a stopper on her fretting and musing to take stock of her friend. She could be a bit overassertive at times, especially around men, but this happened to be a personality trait Abby found endearing. There was no doubt Renee could worm her way into anyone’s conversation if it included some hunky guy. The latest example had been in Tahoe City at Fromer’s office. Abby smiled recalling how he’d carefully, but firmly, removed his hand from her intimate touch. Yep! He knew how to handle her, and she’d backed down. Temporarily, anyway.
In the twenty-five years of their friendship, not once had Renee pushed herself at any male who showed an interest in Abby. Renee was the best!
Abby smoothed her pink sheath over one knee. Good Lord; she could feel her hand shaking. She lifted her fingers. Cold and trembling. With her other hand, she massaged the fingers until the trembling ceased. A simple discussion dinner. Not worth getting upset over. Never too late to back out. She could make some plausible excuse for why s
he couldn’t leave here until it was time to cross over to the disco.
Instead of going out to eat, she could ask Blade if he wouldn’t mind waiting here in the chalet. They could discuss whatever he had on his mind right here. She brightened a moment then slumped back. This place stood alone between two chalets that had housed two murder victims. Yellow crime tape surrounded the empty chalets on both sides. Would this be a safe alternative? She took a quick look around the room with the two beds. No. Definitely not here.
Could be she didn’t trust him. All this anxiety about being with him alone at night might have something to do with the murders. The room shadows deepened as she sat alone, circled in the glow from the small table lamp. No. She shook her head. A ridiculous thought. The murders? Why would Blade, an ex-cop, be killing dancers? And yet, the remaining dancers seemed to be on Fromer’s list of suspects, so why not Blade? Face it. She really didn’t know him that well. Except for a couple of meetings back at the mall, and their ride together, she had spent almost no time with him. Her concern about spending an evening alone with him wasn’t all about trusting him. She knew from past experience that she couldn’t trust herself. Since her divorce, this trembling episode with the fingers had happened twice. Each time after she’d accepted a date. Even though the men certainly were by no means strangers, she’d backed out at the last minute.
This time with Blade? She had to admit some of the tension she felt could be mixed with anticipation. A lot of anticipation. The attraction she felt for this middle-aged ex-cop—who by the way looked terrific—could have caused her shakes. The chemistry she felt with him couldn’t be denied.
A light rap at the chalet door startled Abby out of her reverie. After taking a deep breath, she straightened her pink satin dress over her hips and opened the door.
“Whoa!” he said. “You really clean up good. You always look great, but this is … Wow!”
Abby felt herself blush. She managed to let go of all the earlier negative thoughts and bask in his flattery. Her smile let him know how she felt.
He took a quick survey of the room. “All alone, huh? Where’s your friend?”
“Gone to the Biltmore. She’s meeting Gail over there for some early gambling.”
“Hope you don’t mind if we don’t get to the disco ’til later. I’ve made reservations at a place a client recommended. It’s midway between here and South Shore. A half hour drive each way, give or take.”
“Hmm. I told Renee that we’d meet her at the Cabaret at nine, as we’d discussed, but the restaurant sounds good. Let me give her a call on her cell so she’ll know we’ll be late.”
After Abby reached Renee, she realized that she was beginning to feel calmed by the sound of Blake’s voice. Low and mellow. Strange how his tone seemed to sooth and melt her earlier anxiety. She looked down at her hand. The shakiness had miraculously vanished. Now—for some inexplicable reason—a long drive in Blade’s old reliable car sounded fine. Just fine! She reached for her lacy white shawl spread out on the foot of her bed. Blade moved closer and helped drape it over her shoulders. When his fingers brushed her bare shoulder, she felt a tingle—not of distrust, but of excitement.
Outside, under a clear sky, the stars overhead shimmered like sparkles on a dark costume. Blade firmly held her elbow as he guided her up the steps, across the path, and on up to the parking area. She spotted his car parked next to a green convertible on one side, and a gold Lexus on the other. The high hood of Blade’s classic model shone like some rare blue stone. Blade jumped out and came around to open her door. He waited until she was settled in her seat before he reached across her lap with the seat belt. When he snapped the belt closed, she could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck. “When I carry classy cargo,” he whispered in her ear, “I take special care.”
Abby felt her breathe catch and wondered if he’d heard it. She watched him as he crossed in front of the car to the driver’s side. Midway, he stopped and grinned at her. She felt a surge of warmth. She decided that the shawl was definitely overkill and started to remove it. Blade reached over to help and she felt a tingling when his fingers brushed her bare shoulder. She rolled her window halfway down as he started the car.
Blade pointed to his window. “Need this one down, too?” He flashed a devilish smile. “It’s getting kinda steamy in here.”
Abby rolled her window back up as she struggled to keep a straight face. “What time are the dinner reservations?”
He checked his dashboard clock. “Soon.” He stepped on the gas, backed up, and turned right out of the parking area.
The night sky was clear and velvety. The radio was playing soft music, and Blade was soon amusing Abby with stories about old Tahoe. She told him that he sounded like a tour guide.
He turned to her and raised both eyebrows. “Is that a compliment or an ‘enough of the history lesson already’?”
“No, no! I find it all interesting—intriguing, actually. Not only the history, but that you have all this information about what went on back then.”
Blade shrugged. “I read a lot.” He looked past her on the passenger side to the dark waters of the lake. “I particularly like to read about this area. That lake shimmering over an ancient volcano should be one of the seven wonders of the modern world in my book. Folks visit from all over to see this magnificent view.” He took in a deep breath. “Aren’t we lucky to have it practically in our backyard?”
Abby rolled her window down and let the night air brush her cheek. It was filled with the pungent smell of pine. “You’ve got that right.” She sighed. “I really need to take more time off. If I can manage to leave Starduds for a few days in responsible hands, I might come back here for a real vacation after all of this mess gets sorted out.”
“If you want company, give me a heads-up. Most of the time I can cut my schedule.”
Abby hesitated. “How do you do that? Cut your schedule?”
“When an important invitation presents itself, I make the time.”
Abby rolled her window up, making it easier for conversation. “I’d like to know more about you and your work. I find it hard to leave the shop. And, as I may have mentioned, I’m helping my twins through college. Don’t you have a family—kids?” Whoa. She stopped herself. “Am I getting way to nosey here?”
Blade kept his eyes on the road as he guided the car around steep curves. “I’m not crazy about talking about me. My history, unlike this beautiful lake, doesn’t read that well.”
Abby straightened up in her seat. “Okay. Sorry I asked.”
For the next few miles, both of them remained silent. When they reached the Shore Bird restaurant, Blade pulled into the narrow parking area, turned off the motor and rested his arm on the back of the seat. “I’ve traveled a rocky road. I’ve been through two divorces, and one of them was bitter. I try to keep my mind off the past. I do have family in the L.A. area that I visit now and then.” He widened his eyes. “Can I get by with that much for now?”
Abby nodded. “Sure. I didn’t mean to pry.” She released her seat belt and placed her hand on the door handle. “You know, most people have something in their past that haunts them. A bitter divorce can be one of them.” She paused and felt her shoulders rise with tension. “I can speak for that.” She started to open her door, but he beat her to it. “I’m starving,” she said. “How about you?”
Inside the restaurant, while they were waiting to be seated, Blade removed his trench coat. Abby’s eyes widened. “Wow. Where may I ask did you get those chic retro pants and shirt? Positively the ’70s!”
He straightened the points on the open collar. “There’s a vintage shop down the street from my office. I knew before we left about the bash tonight. Got an e-mail from the hotel after I made my reservation.”
So. Blade had made reservations at the Biltmore before he left the Sacramento area. Why? Because she mentioned where she would be staying? Or could there be another reason he came here for this particular weekend?
Instead, Abby told Blade he’d done well when he had picked this upscale restaurant, featuring elegant dining on the lakefront. During a dinner of perfectly seasoned red snapper over brown rice, he mentioned at least three more times how great she looked.
Gradually Abby let go of the horror of the last two days. Determined not to ruin her appetite or his, she pushed aside the distressing thoughts about Melanie’s and Dana’s deaths. Instead, she chatted about politics, old and new movies, and her kids.
Blade listened and joined in the conversation. However, after a long pause, he spoke up and dropped a few clues about his life in Los Angeles before he left the force and moved to Northern California. “Couldn’t handle the gangs and torture killings any longer. Kids, no older than eleven or twelve, some younger, carrying weapons. Shooting each other.” He lifted his fork and balanced a green bean on a prong before he shoved it in his mouth and chomped down “I’m sorry.” He tapped the handle of his fork on the tablecloth. “Don’t know why I brought that up.” He looked across at her with blank eyes before dropping his gaze. “I’m sure that’s not the type of information you were looking for when you mentioned earlier about getting to know me.”
Abby gave a small nod. At this point any information concerning his past would be better than none. Even if it was depressing. Kids and gangs, huh? She gave a little shudder. “It sounds as if being a P.I. is a better fit.”
“It can be tough at times. Depends on the case. Some can be funny.” He smiled and chuckled. “Downright ludicrous. Depends on the client. It sounds crazy, but the more ridiculous the client, the better the pay.”
The dessert wine was served. After the waiter left, Blade changed the subject. “I need to tell you, Abby, I came here on business.” He motioned outside. “Here. To the Lake.”