Louise: A New Beginning

by Diana Nixon

  “This is insane. How could he tell a woman he once loved, or at least had some warm feelings for, that her baby died?”

  “You don’t know him, Louise. Your father is capable of many things, and compassion is not one of them.”

  “Then why did you let him run for president? You know so many terrible things about him, but you didn’t try to stop him. What if he wins the election?”

  Drew swallowed the rest of his drink and put the empty glass down on the table, saying, “Because. . .just like all those people he made shut the fuck up, I’m scared for my life. I don’t want to end up in a pile of trash, on one of New York’s street corners. I’d rather keep my mouth shut, than be dead.”

  Drew’s words reminded me of something I thought I would never think about again. I looked at him suspiciously. “Why did you mention a pile of trash? Do you know something about that girl, Isabel, who used to work here – you know, the one who was murdered and later found in a pile of trash?”

  I could see Drew’s hands beginning to shake. “No, I don’t. I was speaking figuratively. I didn’t mean anything in particular.”

  But I knew better. Drew was one of those people whose every thought and emotion was written all over his face. If he was pissed, he would fry your ass alive without a warning, and if he was nervous, he would never be able to hide it. That’s why Drew hated poker, he had no idea how to keep his face neutral. Was it possible that he knew something about Isabel’s death? The something that no one else in the club knew about?

  Chapter 4

  After my more than suspicious conversation with Drew, I decided to go and talk to Tess, aka Valery. She changed her name when she started working in Le Papillon. She’d been obsessed with the idea of finding Isabel’s murderer, so I thought she could clear up a few things for me.

  “Come in!” She responded when I knocked on her door.

  I opened the door to her room and let myself in. “Hey, do you have a minute?”

  She was standing in front of a huge, floor-length mirror, trying on different outfits for the show tonight.

  “What do you want?” She asked, throwing a pair of black leather shorts into a pile of clothes lying on her bed. As always, the room was chaos, and its owner didn’t look like she was happy to see me, at all. Our last conversation didn’t end well, so I couldn’t blame her for that.

  “I wanted to ask you something about Isabel,” I said.

  Tess turned around and looked at me suspiciously. “What is it about her that you want to know?”

  She and Isabel used to be very close, and I was sure she knew more than she had ever told anyone about the night the poor girl died.

  “I know that you started hanging out with Rodger, the owner of The Dragon’s Kiss, hoping he would use his connections in the police to help you gain information surrounding Isabel’s death.”

  “So?”

  “You once told me that you didn’t believe the man that had been arrested was a real murderer, but why? What do you know, Tess?” I refused to call her Valery, but surprisingly enough, she never corrected me.

  “Why do you care?” She asked, drilling me with her stare. “We can’t help Isabel anyway.”

  “But we can see to it that justice gets served.”

  She took a deep breath and went to a small bar against the wall, took out a bottle, and poured herself a glass of wine.

  “I have my reasons to believe that Vincent, the man who used to be our client and her lover, didn’t kill her.” Tess took a few sips of her drink and proceeded, “The night it happened, Isabel and I went out for a drink. It was our day off, so no one minded us leaving the club. We went to one of our favorite bars, but after about a half an hour, Isabel got a call from a man I didn’t know. He said he wanted to see her, so she left. About an hour later, she texted me, saying she wasn't going to come back to the club that night and that I needed to come up with a cover for her. When I asked if she was going to stay with Vincent, she said she was on a date with someone else. She didn’t give me the name of her date. The police said he was one of Vincent’s friends, and that’s why Vincent killed her, out of jealousy. But I saw him that night. He knew the name of the bar Isabel and I loved going to. I was just about to leave when I saw him enter the place. He didn’t see me, but he looked worried. He walked over to the bartender and asked about Isabel. He looked like he couldn’t find her, and that is what makes me believe that he didn’t even see her that night. According to the police report, she was killed right about the time when I saw Vincent in the bar.”

  “Then why did the police arrest him? What evidence did they have against him?”

  “They said his fingerprints were on the knife that was found next to the body. It was a weapon, so naturally, they thought it was Vincent who killed Isabel.”

  “Have you ever told anyone you saw him that night?”

  “I did, but they didn’t believe me because one of the cameras on the street where Isabel’s body was found, showed Vincent’s car leaving the crime scene. And even though they couldn’t see the face of the driver, they still decided he was their prime suspect, and the rest is history from there.”

  “What about the guy he talked to about Isabel?”

  “You mean the bartender?”

  “Yes.”

  “Funny thing, the bar’s owner said the guy never showed up for work again after that night.”

  “Oh… That sounds like a very strange coincidence, don’t you think so?”

  “Forget it, Louise. No one will reopen the investigation, even if we find dozens of strange coincidences in the whole story.”

  “But why not?”

  Tess made a helpless gesture, and sat down on one of the chairs. “Because someone must have paid a fucking lot of money to get the case shut down. And whoever it was, is the real killer.”

  “Do you have any idea who it might be?”

  “I thought I did, but I was wrong. One of Rodger’s friends is a police officer. He was also one of the men investigating Isabel’s murder. I only officially met him one time, but I could swear it was not the first time I had seen the man. And when he saw me, he became very nervous, as if he recognized me too. But after that day, I never saw him again. Rodger said he was sent to work in Washington.”

  “Do you think he was the real killer?”

  “I don’t know, but his reaction to me made me believe he possibly could be. Too bad, I never managed to remember if I actually ever saw him before. Anyway, why do you ask?”

  “Something reminded me of the tragedy, and I thought you might have found a way to know the truth.”

  “No, unfortunately.”

  There was nothing else I wanted to talk to Tess about, so our conversation was over. I was just about to leave when another question came to mind. “Did Drew like Isabel?”

  Tess smirked into her drink. “Drew doesn’t like anyone. And she was just another girl who worked for him. I would have known if there had been anything more going on between them.”

  “Okay.”

  “Louise?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you happy?” Tess suddenly asked.

  “Why? And just don’t tell me you still care about me.”

  Ignoring my irony, she asked, “Was leaving the club worth it?”

  No matter how much of a bitch she could be at times, I knew Tess always wanted more. Maybe not more clothes and shoes, but something else, the something that neither of us ever had – a true family. And we both knew that it couldn’t be found inside Le Papillon. Regardless of what Kate said, friends could never replace small details that come from having a family, with the same flesh and blood you had.

  “I think people always get what they deserve,” I said. “And what I have now was worth every single tear I cried while I was a prisoner of Paradise. I hope one day, you will find what you are looking for, Tess.”

  “So does this mean you are happy to live all alone, work, study, and have no one to talk to when you actually
need a talk?”

  Oh, she always knew how to push the most painful buttons I had.

  “I have everything I need.”

  “Lucky you,” Tess said, disdain dripping from the words as they fell out of her mouth. She didn’t believe me. She seemed certain that my life was just as miserable now as it was when she and I still lived in the orphanage. I didn’t want to tell her she was wrong, but she was. My life was completely different now. It was better and I was much happier. . .even if I wasn’t able to spend more time with the man who was the reason for my happiness.

  ***

  Monday had always been my favorite day of the week. Most people hated Mondays, but not me. For me, Mondays had always been associated with something new: new plans, new hopes, new achievements. Besides, I hoped every new day I spent without Will, was bringing me closer to being with him, not to mention the excitement I felt whenever I thought about seeing him again.

  There was another part of my new life that I absolutely loved – Balero. My classes there were a dream come true for me. I didn’t care that I had to work really hard to be even half as good as the rest of the students; some, if not all of them, had been dancing their whole lives before they got accepted into the school. Other than the train station ‘shows’ I put on while I was in Paradise and the shows at Le Papillon, I had no formal training. Everything I knew about dancing came from reading books and watching TV shows. But my grades were good, really good, and my dancing got better every day.

  Dancing was the one thing I wouldn't be able to live without. It helped keep me grounded, relieved stress, and took me away from my problems; when I was dancing, all of my thoughts washed away, and by the time a song was finished, I would feel much better, it was pure bliss amidst the chaos my life consisted of.

  Apart from my own classes, I was also busy teaching Balero's students when they wanted extra practice or training. I didn’t expect my teacher, Mrs. Crumple, to offer me the position, but she said I was more than qualified for it; it really surprised me because I didn’t feel qualified enough to be teaching anyone. A lot of Balero’s students worked part-time as dance instructors. The school was one of the best in the city, and I was honored to be able to call myself its student.

  I took a quick shower, got dressed and headed for the school. It was the beginning of December outside, a thin layer of snow covered the pavement under my feet. My thoughts traveled back to the time I lived in the orphanage. Winter was the worst time of the year for us – Paradise dwellers. We didn’t have enough warm clothes, and what we had could hardly be called clothes at all, it was almost like going out half-naked. We hated cold. But we didn’t have a choice but to live the life that Paradise offered us. That’s why every new day of my so-called freedom felt like a blessing to me, the biggest advantage of which was that I didn’t have to beg anymore.

  As I approached the entrance to the school, I smiled. I turned my head toward the parking lot, and noticed, as always, that Christopher was parked in a space closest to the doors. And as always, he was inside, reading the morning paper, and drinking a cappuccino from a coffee shop all the students went to near campus. The funny thing about it was his presence never bothered me. I knew he was there because Will never wanted me out of his sight, but he also knew I would be furious if I ever saw Will, himself, following me around; Christopher was a different story. He knew I hated being followed, so he always made sure to stay ‘in the shadows’. But today, I decided to break my ‘No, I didn’t even notice you ‘façade’, and walked over to say hello.

  I went over to his parked car and gently knocked on the passenger window.

  “Good morning, Louise,” Christopher said, getting out of the car. “What did I do to make you notice I was here?”

  I laughed. “Seriously? Do you really believe this is the first time I noticed your car here?”

  He smiled. “But you never said you saw me.”

  “I didn’t want you to think I didn't want you around, and ruin your plan to protect me.”

  “And I kept pretending that I didn’t know you knew I was spying on you.”

  I giggled. “It is so like Mr. Blair to have you watching over me, especially since I won’t allow him to do it.”

  “Will doesn’t know I’m here.”

  “Oh. . . He doesn't, so you've gone rogue then?”

  “He told me to give you some space, but I refused to follow his order. So, yes, I suppose I went ‘rogue’.”

  I sighed. “Is it because of my father? Do you think he will try to hurt me?”

  “I trust my instincts, Louise, and they tell me that when it comes to your father, anything is possible. So I’d better get back to my paper and my coffee, if you don’t mind. Oh, and don’t tell my boss you saw me here.”

  “I won’t.”

  He smiled again and I turned around to head to class, but then I decided I couldn’t leave before I asked him something.

  “Christopher?” I called.

  “Yes?”

  “Is he all right?” I always asked him if Will was doing okay, but with everything that had happened on Sunday morning, the question seemed a little more sincere than usual.

  “A little distracted, I would say. Do you know the reason behind that dreamy expression he has been wearing the last twenty-four hours?”

  I giggled. “Honestly, I have no idea.”

  “Oh. . . and here I thought it was because you two met up yesterday. I must have been mistaken.”

  Of course, he knew we saw each other, he knew everything when it came to Will and me.

  “Can’t say for sure, I haven’t talked to Will since yesterday morning.”

  Christopher didn’t comment on that, but I was sure the man knew every single thought crossing my mind at the moment. He was a very perceptive person by nature.

  ***

  The moment I walked into my classroom, I saw an envelope lying on my desk.

  “Does anyone know what that is, or where it came from?” I asked my little students. Balero was also known for dancing classes for kids.

  Evangeline, a five-year-old girl with big blue eyes came over to me and said, “I don't know what it is but it was left by a stranger.”

  “A stranger?” I asked, surprised. For a moment, I thought it must have been Will, attempting to remind me that he is still alive, and still waiting for me.

  Then I was corrected.

  “Some lady came a few minutes ago and left it for you,” Roberto, another one of my students said. He was half-Spanish, and I always enjoyed talking to him, his accent was really cute.

  “Some lady?” I repeated his words, even more surprised. “Did any of you recognize her?”

  “I did,” Pauline said, running up to me. She was one of my favorite little dancers, very talented and hardworking, despite her young age. “She keeps coming to find you, but I don't know why. And she scares me. She looks like a witch from that fairytale my dad and I were watching last night.”

  “Oh, really? Well, I’m sure whoever she is, she is not as bad as that witch. Did she ever say what she wanted from me?”

  “No, she only once asked if this is your class. And today she brung that envelope for you.” Pauline pointed to my desk. “See? It even has your name on it.”

  I looked at the envelope, feeling a little troubled. “Thanks guys. Get ready, we will start in a minute.” I went to my desk, took the envelope, opened it, pulled out the note it contained, and read it to myself.

  “Leave this school. The sooner, the better.”

  What the hell? Why would I need to leave the school? Who was the woman who left the note? And why does she always come when I’m not around?

  “Pauline?” I called. “Come here, please. Can you describe the woman who left this for me?”

  “Um. . .she was old, reawwy old. Like my mema’s age, but wif gray hair. And she wooked mad. Her face was scrunched up.”

  “What do you mean her face was scrunched up, how did she look mad?”

  “I
don't think she liked being here. And she kept looking at the door to see if anyone was coming.”

  Now, that was really weird.

  “Thank you,” I said, tucking the note in my bag. It was better to hide it before someone else found it and read it.

  My first thought was to show it to Christopher, but then I changed my mind. Whoever the mysterious woman was, she made sure the note was meant for me, and me alone.

  Needless to say, I couldn’t stop thinking about the damn note for the rest of the day. I had three classes of my own to attend, but by the end of the second one, something happened. I received another note; this one was taped to my locker in the dressing room.

  “Be careful, they are close,” the note said. It was written in the same handwriting as the first one, which scared the hell out of me. Because whoever the sender was, she apparently meant business. She wanted me gone, and she wanted it now. . .

  Later that day, my suspicions were confirmed the moment I opened the door to my apartment. Another envelope was lying on the floor. I swallowed hard, feeling my heart race in my chest. Quickly, I shut the door behind me, and grabbed the damn envelope from the floor, tearing it open.

  “You got too close to the things that will be kept secret. . . At any cost.”

  What? What the hell did she mean by that? What things did I get too close to? For the last five months, I hadn’t done anything other than training and working!

  Damn it, I needed to talk to Will. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to since I knew he would only want to lock me away, in the safety of his house before I even got the chance to tell him the whole story; the note was more than enough proof for him that I wasn’t safe on my own. Besides that, what if I did tell him about the notes? Would that put his life in danger too? I couldn’t tell him, there was no way I would put him at risk because of a few pieces of paper. At least not until I knew more about the notes and their sender.