by Ink, India
I added a velvet cloak to my outfit and cautiously descended the stairs. My heels were thin—delicately so—and I didn’t want to take a tumble that would land me in the hospital instead of on the dance floor. Auntie was waiting below, wrapped in a sable coat. Killian and Kane were both in the living room, Kane in a black suit that looked a few years out of date but still dapper, and Killian was dressed in full tux and tails, including top hat. I tucked the strap of my evening bag over my shoulder and looped my arm through Killian’s.
“Ready?” I asked. He nodded. Kane took Auntie’s arm, and we left for the Gala, Auntie and Kane in his car, and Killian and me in Killian’s Jag.
Oh, the joys of small town island life. Everybody who had enough money to spare for tickets had come out in full force, and the social circles had already formed by the time we walked through the door.
The Gala was held at the Gull Harbor Club Noir, a large multicultural center that hosted dances, plays, art exhibits, and other such events. The lights were shimmering out of the two-story building, which had been built with a Bavarian facade. Snowflake cutouts of dark wood framed the lower level, and row after row of dark beams rested against tan walls, forming a crosshatch design that made your eyes go wonky if you looked at it too long.
The entire roof had been strung with icicle lights that cascaded in long, draping chains. Atop the roof, a brilliant star of twinkling lights emblazoned the sky. The brilliance continued with a large blue spruce that graced the rounded driveway where the valet parking awaited. Alight in a blinding array of multicolored bulbs, the tree was surrounded by illuminated candy canes that cordoned off the grass, guiding guests along the path to the door of the club. There, two men dressed in red tuxedos waited to open the doors for the dancers.
Music echoed from within, and for once there were no requisite retro disco numbers playing. As we swept past the doormen, I found my foot tapping and realized that I was actually looking forward to the evening. Killian had proven to be as good on the dance floor as he was in bed, and my body longed for movement. His hand on my lower back, propelling me forward, only made my desire stronger. Before the night was out, I had the feeling my urge to dance would be turning into a different—though related—urge.
The interior of Club Noir had been transformed from its usual urban grunge décor to a vision in gold. Soft lighting shed a decidedly bronzed cast over the guests, and the dance floor was spotlighted in a shimmer of red, bronze, and orange. My dress would be absolutely stunning, I thought, feeling a little wiggle of joy. A DJ was set up on one side of the dance floor, and I recognized him as one of Killian’s friends. We gave him a little wave, and he winked at us.
At the far end of the room there was a long buffet table, and with my heightened sense of smell, I caught a whiff of roast turkey and prime rib. My stomach rumbled, but I told it to wait. No way could I eat a good meal in this dress and then hope to dance. I’d opt for a plate later on.
A lounge and dining area offered dancers a place to rest their tired feet and eat. Over the whole Gala, bouncing against the top of the twenty-foot ceiling, loomed giant balloons of turkeys, pilgrims, and Indians, watching over the party, surreal sentinels that I would only expect to find in a town like Gull Harbor.
And speaking of . . . Gull Harbor’s elite had gathered near the lounge—old money, draped in paste copies of their very-real jewels that resided within dark vaults in the bowels of the banks. Then came our circle—the business folk, respected members of the Chamber of Commerce who weren’t upper-crust enough to join the elite, yet not considered beneath an air-kissed hello. The techies and their wives—mostly moneyed—formed their own little clique, and they mingled with the artists—moneyed or not.
Then there were the other citizens of Gull Harbor who had forked out the steep fee to attend. Some of them just wanted a little sparkle in their lives; others wanted to contribute to charity, but they also wanted to get something out of their contribution other than a tax write-off. And still others were here because it sounded like fun. They seemed the ones most at ease and likely to enjoy themselves.
The music was decidedly oriented toward the techno-artistic crowd, most of whom were in my generation, and as Don the DJ slapped on a track off of the Gorillaz’ Demon Days, Killian nodded toward the dance floor. Auntie offered to take my wrap for me, and so we spun out, keeping perfect rhythm to the techno hip-hop that I loved so much.
As the track switched over to the bluesy, sexy-as-hell “Every Planet We Reach Is Dead,” Killian pulled me into his arms. I matched my movements to his, hip to hip, barely a finger’s width between our bodies. His eyes danced with fire as he gazed at me, and I caught my breath in a swirl of hunger. All he had to do was look at me, and I wanted him. The corners of his lips twisted in a wicked grin, and he spun me out then in again for a dip so low my back almost touched the ground. Then up again and round and round, circling the other dancers so lightly our feet barely skimmed the floor.
Three songs later, I caught sight of Barbara dancing with Dorian and gave her a little wave. She pointed to the buffet table, and I nodded. As the four of us walked off the dance floor, I could feel eyes on me. Hell yeah, this dress was good for my ego.
When we approached the table, I saw one table was still free, and we sent the men to hold it for us while we attacked the table. Barb looked gorgeous, but behind the sparkling eye shadow and flawless foundation, deep circles were hiding below her eyes and a glint that told me she was about ready to break.
“Oh God, Persia. So help me, I’m going to break that old bat’s neck. Dorian turns a blind eye to every insult she gives me. When she’s around, he’s her little boy again, and he loves playing the part. He left his boxers on the bathroom floor, and he hasn’t done that for years. And this morning he actually yelled at me for not making breakfast for everybody, even though I had to be at the bakery an hour earlier than he did.” She was blinking furiously, and I had the impression she was trying not to cry.
I glanced over at the table where Dorian and Killian were talking. Killian had a mild look of distaste on his face, and I wondered just what was going down. Dorian, on the other hand, looked a little too self-satisfied for my taste. I’d always liked Dorian, but he could be a little overbearing, and when he grabbed on to an idea, he wouldn’t let go. And it seemed that Mama Konstantinos was filling his head with ideas. And yet, and yet . . . would he listen if he didn’t secretly agree with her? Shaking my head, I turned back to Barbara.
“How long does she have left on her visit?”
“God knows . . . she’s supposed to leave in about a week. I know she has to be back in Greece by December thirteenth because her sister Angelina is arriving from Brussels.” She halfheartedly stabbed an olive with her fork as we returned to the table.
I slid in between Dorian and Killian. “Okay, you two. Have at it.”
As they headed toward the buffet, I glanced over to see Kyle and Amy coming toward us. Amy looked lovely in a sky blue gown that hearkened back to the prom days of the seventies. It fitted snugly in the bodice, then flowed out in a pouf of chiffon and underskirts. Kyle washed up pretty good in his navy suit, though he looked uncomfortable. I had the feeling he’d rather be in his uniform or in jeans.
I nodded to the extra chairs. “Care to join us? Dorian and Killian are at the buffet.” They sat down, but Amy seemed ill at ease, twisting a handkerchief in her hands. Frowning, I asked, “Is something wrong?”
Amy glanced at Kyle, who nodded his head, then said, “Have you seen Lisa around anywhere?”
I motioned to the throng of partygoers. “Isn’t she out there? I assumed she’d show up here, and to be honest, I was going to read her the riot act. She took off this afternoon and left us high and dry. I had to scramble to take care of the last four makeovers.”
Amy sighed. “I don’t know if she’s here or not. I’ve been looking, but there are so many people it’s hard to sort through them all. She didn’t come home to get ready, and I assumed tha
t she went back to your place with you and your aunt. Did she say where she was going?”
I shook my head. “No. She did leave a note, but I don’t have it with me. She’s probably going to show up late. I’ll bet she’s at home getting ready now.”
Kyle patted Amy’s hand protectively. “That’s what I said, but this woman is such a worrywart.” He turned to her. “I told you, Lisa will be fine. You’re just playing the older sister. Give her time to show up, and I’m sure she’ll have a good reason for why she’s late.” He flashed me a smile, and for once, he looked truly happy.
“So, you two enjoying the dance?” I asked, making room as Killian returned from the buffet. He slid in beside me and slipped his arm around my waist, drawing me in for a kiss. I lingered on his lips for a moment before resolutely pushing away.
Amy shrugged. “It’s very pretty here, but I’m not used to big parties. I think I’d be happier at home with a movie and popcorn.” She blushed, as if remembering that her date was sitting right next to her. “I mean, I’m happy to be here, but . . .”
Kyle ignored her stumble. “I know exactly what you mean, and I feel the same way. I had to put in an appearance, being the chief of police, but as soon as it’s decorous, we can leave and go back to your place.”
Killian suddenly pushed back his chair as Dorian returned to the table. He held out his hand and looked at me. “Dance?” I excused myself and followed him out to the dance floor. As we found a place on the floor, he whispered, “I had to get away from Dorian. No offense, but I don’t think I like your friend very much. He was going on and on about how I should marry you and make an honest woman of you. I think I offended him when I told him to back off, that we’d make our own decisions.”
One thing I’d give Killian—he didn’t mince words, and he didn’t play games to keep the peace. He called things as he saw them. But that wasn’t what bothered me. What ticked me off was the fact that Dorian would go on a tangent about the marriage issue when he knew how I felt about it.
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow. He’s being an ass lately, and his mama’s to thank for that. Now, are you going to dance with me, or are we just going to stand here?” I held out my arms, and Killian gave me that slow grin again, and the rest of the night was a blur of movement and sound and lights and his hot body pressed next to mine.
By the time we got home, Auntie and Kane—whose car was still in the driveway—were nowhere to be seen. I assumed they’d gone to bed. I led Killian up to my room after we raided the refrigerator and made sure that the Menagerie was tucked in for the night. Everybody was curled up asleep, even old Delilah who raised one eye to blink at us as I gave her a little scritch on the head.
Killian closed the door behind us, and I turned, ready to finish the night in style. The Gala had been lovely, and the music was still pounding in my blood. I flipped on the stereo, taking pains to make sure it wasn’t loud enough to filter through to Auntie’s room a floor below. The house was well insulated though, and I could usually get away with pumping up the volume to a decent level before she complained.
I turned. “Unzip me?”
His hands ran the length of my back, making me shiver, as he found the zipper and slowly lowered it. “Get undressed,” he said roughly, his fingers resting against my lower back. “I want you. Now.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I slid out of my dress, hanging it up before turning around to face him, naked, and loving every minute of his scrutiny. His eyes narrowed, and his lips curled ever so slightly. Then, two steps, and he caught me up in his arms and laid me back on the bed, still in his tux and tails. I tilted my head back as his lips pressed against my neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to my breasts, my stomach, and lower yet. I gasped, moaning softly.
As he moved to take off his jacket, I stopped him. “No, leave it on. Please.” I gazed into his eyes, and he knew exactly what I wanted. What I needed.
“Please, what?” he demanded, reaching for my wrists.
“Please, sir,” I said, as the winds picked up. A clatter of rain thrashed against the window, but the world outside faded as we met in that ancient dance of power playing against power, deep within the night.
The phone rang at seven thirty the next morning, and I shot up in bed, glaring at it for a moment before fumbling for the receiver. “Yeah, who is it and what do you want? It better be good at this time in the morning,” I said.
Killian mumbled something next to me and turned over on his side. I gazed down at the lanky drink of water in my bed. He was muscled but lean, and a thick mat of red hair dappled his chest. His red was natural, that much I’d found out a few months earlier, much to both our delights. It was hard to believe that we’d only been dating since late August. It felt like we’d been together for a couple of years. We fell into synch without even blinking. And we didn’t have to talk to cover the silence, one of the nicest parts of the relationship. He could be reading while I worked out, and neither one of us felt the lack of conversation.
The voice on the other end of the phone was not who I’d expected to hear. Actually, I had no idea who to expect. The only people I could think might call me at this time in the morning after a late-night party were Elliot—which he might actually be stupid enough to do—or Barbara. And only Barb if she were in trouble.
To my shock, however, it was neither one. Kyle’s voice rang out loud and clear, and I had the feeling he and Amy had gone home early as planned. I didn’t remember seeing them leave, and we had closed down the place at two AM.
“Persia, you awake yet?” He sounded impatient, and I growled in the phone.
“Obviously, since I’m talking. However, a moment ago, I wasn’t. What’s up? We didn’t get in till two . . . I have had about three hours of sleep altogether.” I reached for my water bottle and chugged own a mouthful of warm Dasani.
He cleared his throat. “I won’t ask what you were doing for the other two hours,” he said. “I don’t think I want to know. Anyway, I’m calling to ask you if you ever saw Lisa at the Gala. I’m at Amy’s. Lisa never came home last night, and we couldn’t find her there. Do you know who she was going with?”
“Yeah, she said Mitch Willis.” I frowned. “Do you think that maybe she stayed over with him?”
“What about that note you mentioned? When she left work early?”
Oh yeah. I’d forgotten. “Hold on, let me get my purse.” I slipped out of bed and into my robe. Well insulated or not, the house still got cold, and central heating didn’t always do a great job when a storm came through. A glance out the window showed another dreary, rain-soaked day. The sky was that silver-gray that was so common on the coast, and I had the feeling that we’d seen the last of the sun until spring, unless we lucked out. There were no birds to be seen, nor squirrels. Everybody was hiding out until the downpour lightened up.
I fished the note out of my purse and opened it, picking up the phone again. “Here we go. Here’s what she said . . . ‘Persia, I had to take off for the rest of the afternoon. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself, but I knew you’d be upset. Please believe me, this is very important and relates to what we were talking about at the pool yesterday. Don’t be mad, please. I wouldn’t put you on the spot if I didn’t have a really good reason. See you tonight, and I hope to have good news to tell you then! Lisa T.’ That any help?”
“What did you talk about at the pool?”
I bit my lip. She’d told me in confidentiality, saying that even Amy didn’t know. “I’m not sure I should tell you. What if she comes home? She was keeping a secret from Amy, and I know she wanted to wait to tell her about it until she was certain that it checked out.”
Kyle cleared his throat. “How about you tell me, and I’ll look into it. If it doesn’t pan out, or if she comes home, I’ll let her be the one to tell her sister about it. I have a nasty feeling about this, Persia. I don’t usually go on hunches, you know but . . . Amy’s terribly upset. I’ve never seen her like this. She’s sure something hap
pened.”
After thinking it over for a moment, I decided that it couldn’t hurt. After all, I didn’t have anything specific to tell him. “Okay, but remember, if Lisa finds out, you made me tell you.” I ran down what she’d told me as generically as possible, then let out a long sigh.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. No specifics, no nothing.” Pausing, I lowered my voice to avoid waking Killian. “Kyle, what are you thinking? You really think Lisa’s in trouble, don’t you?”
He didn’t answer for a moment, then in an equally low voice he said, “Yeah. I don’t know why, but I think she is. And I haven’t a clue about where to look, so if you think of anything else, let me know.”
“Do you want me to come over?” I asked. “I don’t know if I can do anything, but maybe together we can think of where to look for her.”