Moon Dance

by Jillian Chantal

  He heard Olga set the legal pad and pen down on the coffee table and pour the cider into the glass that he'd passed to her. "You like yours in a glass, I presume, since you brought two?"

  "I do. I can pour it myself. No need to wait on me." He tilted his own bottle into the lip of the glass and poured.

  "You do that very well. In fact, I'm not sure there isn't anything you can't do."

  "Drive. I can't drive." Gabe smiled. "Although, being a London born and bred guy, I couldn't drive very well before I lost my sight, so it's not something I miss."

  "I do kind of miss having my car. I drove all over the place in the U.S. but couldn't afford to send the car here and pay for it to be parked, so I sold it before I moved over." Olga took a swallow of her drink.

  "Why did you move here?"

  "Work. I decided to come over and work here for a while."

  "Any particular reason?"

  "No. I decided I needed a change of pace."

  Gabe heard the tension in her voice. He decided not to pursue the question of why she was in England any further for now. Instead, he asked, "What kind of work do you do? I never even asked you that. Sorry, that seems kind of rude, doesn't it?"

  "I work for the British Space Program."

  "Hey, that sounds like a great job. What do you do there?" Gabe took a deep swig of his cider.

  "Let's get back to the list of things you remember about Marisol."

  "Why don't you want to tell me what kind of work you do? Is it one of those things that if you tell me, you have to kill me?"

  "Not funny, Gabe. We're in a serious situation here and you're talking about silly things."

  "I'm not being silly. I'm genuinely interested in what kind of work you do." He patted her hand. "Besides, it takes my mind off everything else to talk about other stuff."

  "I have a better idea on how to take your mind off everything else."

  Gabe smiled. "What do you think we should do?" He hoped she was on the same page as him. The hug in the kitchen and the hand holding made him want a little bit of affection. Something that had been missing from his life for too long was a woman to love and make love to. She was kind and sweet. What better way to work back into the dating scene he'd been too afraid of since the blindness and the losses associated with them?

  "Let's go to a movie."

  "A movie? You want to go to a movie?" He almost choked.

  She leaned over and ran her hands through his hair. "You don't like movies, Gabe?"

  In response, he put his arms around her waist and pulled her toward him. His hand reached behind her head and undid her barrette and sat it on the coffee table. Gabe slid both hands under her hair and brought some tresses forward. "You're hair is as soft as my silk pajamas. It smells so nice. I never knew grapefruit was such a nice fragrance for shampoo until I met you."

  "It's my favorite."

  Gabe could hear the laughter in her voice and he smiled. "It's my favorite, too." He leaned in and kissed her hair. He inhaled her scent. "Ahh, that's so nice."

  "I had no idea you had a scent fetish." Olga placed her hand on his chest. "Are you going to sniff my hair all day or are you going to kiss me?"

  Gabe touched his lips to hers. She put her arms around his shoulders and tickled the back of his neck. His tongue pushed into her mouth, she groaned and pulled him closer to her.

  The phone rang.

  Chapter Nine

  "Whoever is ashamed of his family will have no luck."

  Yiddish Proverb

  "Darn the luck." Olga moved away from Gabe.

  "Ignore it." He held on to her and didn't let her move too far back.

  The phone continued to ring. "Why don't you pick it up instead of staring at it? You may as well see who it is since they've interrupted us, anyway."

  Gabe ran his hand up her spine and leaned in to kiss her again.

  The regular phone stopped and the mobile phone in Gabe's front pocket started to chirp.

  "I'm telling you, you need to get that. Whoever it is won't be giving up anytime soon." Olga laughed.

  Gabe fished the phone out and held it up to Olga. "Who's on the caller id?"

  "Someone named Alexander Swicord. I guess that's a relative?"

  "My father." Gabe tossed the phone across the room where it landed on a brown leather chair with rolled arms. As soon as it hit the seat cushion, what Olga presumed was the voice mail tone beeped.

  "I take it you don't want to talk to him? Olga giggled. "By the way, that was a great shot."

  "I haven't rearranged the furniture in years." His arm tightened around her waist. "Now, where were we?"

  Olga knew he was moving too fast, too soon for her, and she wasn't sure if he was really interested in her or more interested in being distracted by someone or something besides the two dead women.

  "Maybe the phone call was a sign that we're not doing the right thing. I think we should get back to figuring out what you may know about the murders so we can clear your name." Olga pulled away from Gabe and picked up the legal pad again.

  Before she could write anything, Gabe leaped up from the couch and stalked over toward the hallway to the front door. As he reached the opening, he turned back and, in a very quiet, still voice, said, "I think it's time for you to leave, Ms. Quinn."

  Shocked, Olga put down the pad and gaped at him. "What did I say? What happened?"

  "I find that I want to be alone so I'd be obliged if you'd go now." He leaned against the doorjamb with one foot crossed in front of the other at the ankles.

  "What is your problem all of a sudden?" This guy really is volatile, isn't he?

  "I don't know. Let me see. You come on all nice and friendly at the club, you want to go to the museum with me, you hold my hand and my arm as we walk in the museum and down the street, you kiss me a little and when it starts to heat up, you go all coy and businesslike. What's my problem? I don't know, Olga. Maybe it's that I see now what you're all about and I don't like it. I don't like it one little bit."

  She stood and walked over to where he stood and got in his face. She bit out the words, "What the hell are you talking about?"

  He put his hand on her shoulder. "Back off, woman."

  She stepped back two steps and crossed her arms to keep herself from reaching out to him. He seemed so hurt and she wished she could see his eyes to see if he was on the verge of tears. It sure seemed like it. "Tell me what you meant by that comment."

  "It's the same old song. Same verse, different lady."

  Confused, she shook her head and tried to calm herself. Her gut clenched and she was afraid she was going to vomit. How did this day go so bad so fast? "Gabriel. What are you talking about? What did I do?"

  Gabe poked a finger in her direction. "You led on a blind man. You made him think you were interested in him as a man and then, bam, when the poor chump wanted to take it a step further since those were the signals being sent, you shut him down. It's the same old thing. Happens every time. Women think they want to help the pitiful guy with the disability, but they really don't have any interest in the man himself. They have more interest in the public display of 'oh, look at the girl who's dating the blind man' -- I'm sick of it and I'd like you to leave."

  "Is that what you really think of me?" Tears welled in Olga's eyes and she knew they would spill out in a moment.

  "I got the message loud and clear, honey. You don't have to write it out in Braille for me to be able to read it."

  Olga gasped. "Wow. You know how to cut someone to the bone, don't you?"

  "I've had plenty of practice with the members of your sex who've done the same to me practically since the moment I walked into that fire as a whole man and came out as a pariah to women."

  "Oh, don't kid yourself, mister. I imagine you weren't everyone's dream man before the fire, either." She whirled on her heel and strode toward the front door. She felt Gabe right on her trail and grabbed for the knob to turn it.

  A pounding on the wood in front
of her startled her. She jumped back and collided into Gabe's chest. Not knowing what to do to escape, she moved sideways and into the stairway to the second floor.

  Through the door, a man yelled, "Gabriel Swicord. Open this door right now. I mean it."

  Gabe twisted the knob and before he could open the door all the way, a tall man who looked like an older, less toned, version of Gabe shoved past him and into the entry hall.

  The man, who Olga presumed was Gabe's father, said. "I can't believe your face is plastered all over the news and you won't answer your phones to tell me what the hell you've gotten yourself into now."

  Olga peered around from where she stood and watched as Gabe stood there and took what his father said without a sound.

  "Answer me, son. What's with you and your quest for attention?"

  Olga stepped into the foyer. To Gabe, she said, "I'm sorry for earlier. I see now why you think the way you do. This poor excuse for a father that you have is enough to send anyone around the bend. I'll be going now but I want to finish our conversation later when you're able to break free of this tyrant." She glared at Gabe's father and turned to leave.

  A hammy fist grabbed her upper arm. "Who do you think you are, young woman? To speak to me like that?"

  Olga looked down at the man's hand and then up at him with disdain. "I suggest, sir -- and I use the term loosely -- that you let go of me right now unless you want charges of assault and battery made against your person."

  The man's hand dropped. To his son, he said, "Who's the harridan?"

  Olga gasped. "Harridan? You have the audacity to call me that when you barge into the flat of your grown son and treat him like he's eight years old? I suggest you find a mirror and look long and hard at yourself in it. You're a child's worst nightmare for a parent. Captain Hook was nicer to Peter Pan than you are to your own child." She spun on her heel and made her escape from the odious man.

  As she clattered down the outside stairs, she could hear the man continue his tirade. Gee, it was a wonder that Gabe turned out halfway decent at all.

  All the way back to her flat, Olga replayed both her conversation with Gabe and the one with him and his father in her head. She wanted both to cry and to vomit at the same time. Why would Gabe think she pitied him? Because other women had shut him down romantically since his accident or because his father made him feel less than a man? Or maybe both? And how could she make him understand that she was interested in him since she'd acted like those other people in his life?

  *****

  Gabe sighed when Olga left his flat. Might as well ask his father in and get the lecture while sitting down with a lager.

  "Come on in and sit down, Pops. Let me get us a drink."

  "Who was that woman?"

  "A friend." Gabe led his father further into the flat and indicated the chair for him to sit in.

  When his father was seated, Gabe went into the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of ale from the refrigerator. He passed the chair where his father sat and handed him a bottle and then moved to the couch before he popped the top on his own drink. He took a swig and settled back for the standard lecture of how he screwed up everything he touched.

  Instead of the expected harangue, Gabe's father said, "Who was the woman?"

  "I told you, she's a friend."

  "One with bedroom rights?"

  "What?" Stunned, Gabe couldn't fathom why his father would think such a thing. "What makes you think that?"

  "She came from upstairs, didn't she?" His father slammed his bottle of beer down on the side table. "Oh, God, don't tell me. She was using the dance studio. You don't have a chance with that one. She's way too sexy and obviously smart to be with you. She had to be borrowing that stupid studio you installed up there. Why can't you agree to move to the blind institute like your mother and I asked you? You'd be safe there and we wouldn't have to worry about you. I'm sick of having to make sure you're not doing something reckless. You'd be better off in a home."

  With effort, Gabe forced himself not to lose his temper with the man. He never came out ahead when he let that happen. Instead, he changed the subject. "Why are you here? I seem to recall you saying something in your initial rant that my name was all over the news and you wanted some explanation for that. Is that right?"

  "That's right. Have you turned on BBC1 lately?" His father slapped his hand on his thigh.

  "No. Can't say that I have. What's up?"

  "Don't give me that innocent crap. You know your name's been linked to two dead women. The news said the constables have interviewed you, so don't try to deny it. What do you know about these girls?"

  "All I know is that one of them came to the club for her hen party and the other was a regular customer. That's it. They were both killed after coming to the place I work." Gabe shrugged. "That's the extent of my knowledge."

  "Then why's the media all over you about it? Why do they keep playing tape about you? I don't like it. I don't like it at all."

  "And you think I do?" Gabe snorted.

  "I thought you said you hadn't see the coverage, son."

  "I haven't, but I know I don't like it if it's happening like you say it is."

  "It is happening, trust me. Your mother and I want you to find a way to put a stop to it. Quickly." The elder Swicord stood and picked up his bottle of lager. "I have to go now since your mother has some people coming over tonight for cocktails and dinner. I want you to take care of this so we can hold our heads high among our company." He went in to the kitchen and Gabe heard him put the bottle on the countertop.

  Gabe called out, "Sure, Pops, I'll be sure to tell the British media to lay off me. That always works out so well. Even for the royal family. Let me get right on that, sir."

  "You always were a sarcastic brat, weren't you, boy?" His father stomped down the hallway and out of the flat.

  After he was sure his father was gone, Gabe said to the empty room, "I got it from the best. The most sarcastic, brutal bastard on earth is you, dear father."

  Chapter Ten

  "Nothing is too far and no job is too hard if you like it."

  Philippine Proverb

  Monday was the day of Olga's big presentation. She woke early after a fitful night thinking about Gabe. She still couldn't believe the venom in his voice as he screamed at her -- and as for that father of his, wow. It was sad to think that he'd been raised by such an awful man. What a horrible father figure. Olga pushed back her blankets and put her feet on the floor. Grateful for her own supportive family, she padded into the bathroom and turned on the taps for the shower.

  Once she was dressed for work in a new pale pink suit with a peplum hem on the blazer, she sat on her bed and put on her bone-colored pumps or what they called court shoes in England. She laughed a little when she had them on. I guess they call them that since they aren't supposed to visit the queen with their toes showing. Good thing I'll never have to worry about that.

  Ready to give her presentation and eager to talk to Gina about the weekend, Olga took the stairs down to the street two at a time. She stumbled over a few of them but maintained her balance. Barely. She continued quickly down the street to the tube stop with her oyster card in hand to make the trip through the turnstile faster.

  When she arrived at work, she stopped by the front entrance to thank Michael again for his Friday night heroism when she was in such a panic. He was on his way out since it was shift change time for the security team.

  Olga handed him an apple. "Here's a little snack to get you home. In the United States, we bring apples to our favorite teachers so I thought it might be a good idea to bring one to the security guard who helped me out."

  Michael laughed, tossed it in the air and caught it in one hand. He took a big bite out of it. The juice squirted out onto his shirt. "Good thing I'm going home. The wife will be upset if I let this juice set on my shirt and make a stain."

  "Tell her to call me. I'll take all the blame." Olga handed her bag to the guard on duty so
he could run it through the x-ray machine. She showed her badge and walked through herself.

  In the locker room, Olga tossed her bag in her assigned space and pulled out the one lab coat inside. For a second, she panicked because there was only one in there. Then she remembered she ran out with hers still on when she left on Friday. Better remember to bring that back in.

  Gina caught up to Olga in the corridor on her way to the lab. "Did you hear about Gabriel Swicord?"

  "You mean the non-stop news coverage that he may be involved in the deaths of Marisol and Mary? If I hadn't heard, I would've had to be on the moon or Mars and, as you know, we don't quite have that passenger shuttle ready yet for humans, so yeah, I heard all about it all night on every channel."

  "Bloody hell, you don't have to sound so exasperated, you know. I only wanted to gossip a little bit."

  "Sorry. I don't think he had anything to do with it and I don't really want to hear any more about it." Olga tugged her lab coat close to her body and entered the lab.

  Gina came in behind her and went to her own workstation. She started slamming her equipment around until one of the other scientists who shared the space turned to her and said, "Cut it out, Gina."

  "What?" She snarled.

  "You're clearly angry about something and want everyone to know it. We don't care. We have a presentation in an hour and that leaves no time for your games." The man slammed a beaker down on the counter. "So, let's work together and have your fight with Olga on your off time."

  Gina pouted until almost time for the presentation. Her behavior made Olga nervous and she finally had to leave the room. She went down to the cafeteria on the bottom floor and grabbed a banana. She sat in the corner and pulled her phone out of her pocket to read over her notes for the meeting.

  Gradually, she realized the radio was playing through the overhead speakers. Gabe was on air and talking about the murders. She put her phone down and listened to the end of his sentence.

  "So, I'm asking anyone with information about these horrible and senseless killings to call Detective Inspector Benjamin Carlyle. Tell him Gabe sent you. And, now, let's get this work day moving a little faster with thirty minutes of commercial-free music."