Moonlight Dance Academy (Hotshot Book 5)

by Mike Faricy

He didn’t know why or how, but the name suddenly came to him in a flash, the Moonlight Dance Academy. Genius occasionally worked that way. In his mind’s eye, he could see the main room easily transformed into a dance floor, couples gliding around in soft light, doing a variety of steps taught to them by the world-class dance instructor and National Swing Champion, Mr. Val Harwood. And all the while, Hub could be running around Tampa, emptying their homes of valuables.

  Jasper Denton knew a live one when he saw one. And he saw a live one as soon as Val pressed his nose against the grimy front window. Jasper also knew there was maybe one individual in all of South Florida who might have an interest in this worthless piece of rental property. What were the odds he would show up exactly when Jasper was standing in front of the place? The good Lord indeed worked in mysterious ways.

  Jasper introduced himself, gave Val and Hub the special five-minute tour, and consummated the deal with a handshake.

  Val would be in Jasper’s office at 4:00 that afternoon to sign a lease and put down two months’ rent in advance. Val haggled Jasper’s asking price down by fifty dollars a month, with the offer to pay two months advance, in cash. Jasper thought the planets must all be lined up on his side. Even with the rent reduction, it was a hundred dollars more than the insurance guys had paid before they failed.

  Chapter 11

  Over the next two weeks, Val and Hub tore up the carpet, sanded the oak floor, and covered it with a number of coats of paste wax. They repaired the walls before painting them soft, neutral tones, and put all new fixtures in the tiny bathroom.

  They had started out sleeping on the floor in the smaller of the two offices, but that had gotten old after the second night without functional air conditioning. Hub found an apartment complex ten minutes away with a parking lot and a gaggle of women sunning around the pool in the afternoon. More importantly, the garden-level, two-bedroom unit cost a lot less than they had figured on paying. They paid three months’ rent in advance.

  When they weren’t cleaning, Val was passing out self-promotional fliers. He left them at various hairdressers, nail salons, and any other store in the surrounding area that would take them. For fifty bucks, he ran off a stack of laser-print brochures, wallpapering the area with information about Val that Hub had never known. According to the brochure, Val was not only a nationally renowned dance instructor but an acclaimed actor, musician, and businessman, as well.

  “Hub, everyone does this. I’m just selling the old sizzle a bit, that’s all. I’m letting folks feel good about the decision they’re making. Who the hell would want to take lessons from me if I didn’t say some of this? It’s what everyone does, so relax, man, chill out. It’s advertising! I just encourage the little darlings with who they would like me to be.”

  While Val was making the Tampa area feel good about who they would like him to be, Hub found a used key cutter. An ‘All Knight Security’ key duplicator, complete with a master clamp, knife wheel, brush wheel, and 750 key blanks, all for $125. With just a little rewiring work on the electric motor, he was set up for the key duplication business in the small workspace at the rear of the Moonlight Dance Academy. Now, all they needed were keys to duplicate.

  After two and a half weeks of scrubbing, rewiring, painting walls, waxing floors, and papering the better part of Tampa with a few million of Val’s sizzling advertising brochures, they were ready for the grand opening of the Moonlight Dance Academy.

  Hub had just pulled out a relatively clean white cotton shirt, sporting a Home Tech Limited logo on the left breast.

  “Not a good idea, man,” Val said. “Let’s not advertise the fact you can do security systems and have bad taste in clothes. Wear this thing,” he said, tossing a black polyester knit shirt in Hub’s direction. “You put this thing on, you just may get lucky. Keep the neck unbuttoned and the second button, too. Now you just need some sweet thing to get interested. At least until she finds out what you’re really like and runs off.”

  He went through his plan, such as it was, one more time. “The goal tonight is to get people comfortable. We just want them to feel good and come back next week. You’re going to act as a ringer. There’s always about four times more women than men. So I need you to offset the odds a little bit. Just act natural, stand around, and look dumb.”

  “I can do that,” Hub said.

  “Remember, we don’t know each other. You dance with a different woman every dance. Don’t latch onto anyone in particular. At 11:45, you’re going to leave alone. I’ll close at 12:00. You pick me up at 12:15 or whenever everyone has left. Don’t let anyone see you picking me up. Got it?”

  “Relax, Val. I got it,” Hub said, stuffing his keys into his pocket on the way out the door.

  On the short drive over, Val said, “Remember, you just drop me off, go somewhere for thirty minutes, cool your heels, and—”

  “Yeah, I get it. I come back, walk in, fill out one of your applications, and act like one of the crowd.”

  Not only did the application form provide them with addresses and phone numbers, but it also asked about pets. Hub wasn’t wild about sneaking into someone’s home if they raised German Shepherds or Dobermans. So he suggested they find out that information ahead of time. Val took the idea a step further and headlined the back page of his application Tell Us More About Yourself. He asked for marital status, children’s ages, and other general information.

  He asked whether or not the individual was originally from the Tampa area. If not, then from where? Val figured people not originally from Tampa just might suggest they were well-heeled enough to retire down here. They would make up the ‘A’ list for Hub’s evening activities. Now, all they needed was to have someone actually show up on opening night.

  They didn’t have to worry. By 8:30 that evening, the Moonlight Dance Academy was almost too crowded, and there was a line of potential students waiting to fill out applications at the three tables Hub had stolen from the local Baptist church.

  Chapter 12

  Hub knew Val was smooth, he always had been, but he had never really seen him in his element. And Val was definitely in his element tonight, talking, joking, dancing, changing CDs, and continually working the crowd.

  He wore his dance shoes, gliding across the freshly waxed floor. They were black, with thin soles, and even Hub had to admit that Val seemed to float. He would pause between every few dance numbers and say, “Hi! If I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you, I’m your host, Val Harwood, and it’s absolutely wonderful meeting so many new friends here tonight.

  “Of course, there is absolutely no charge for your first evening of enjoyment at the Moonlight Dance Academy. In fact, this has been so much fun, so successful,” he spun around in one of his swing moves and began talking to the people behind him, “let’s do this again Thursday night. No charge for your dancing pleasure, if,” he paused dramatically, spun around facing yet another group, “if you’ll promise to bring a friend.” He began clapping at this point, and the crowd followed his lead, applauding. He raised his hands for quiet. “Please, won’t you stay for at least one more dance?”

  The next CD was all cued up, ready to go, a long, sultry number after his little speech, and he grabbed the closest woman, danced her around the floor, spinning her off before gliding away with another. He was brilliant, dancing with five or six women during one long number.

  Hub was getting some ideas of his own, how they could improve things. Guy-stuff, adjust the lighting, more shelving in the large office for purses, get some bottled water and juice in here for folks to buy. A half-keg of beer seemed like a better idea, get things really going, but he knew Val would shoot that down.

  He was eager to get going on the keys, too. Tonight and Thursday night were just dry runs, an attempt to begin to get crowds in the door. But the taste of cash he got from the liquor store windfall had given him an appetite for more.

  Val was pleased with his performance, very pleased. They were awash in applications and stude
nt information. The following Thursday night group turned out to be even larger. Many of the same people from the first night, some couples, a lot of singles, usually women. Val never seemed to forget anyone. He might not remember the name exactly, but he recognized the face.

  He had developed that salesman’s skill of talking in generic terms; How are you? You look great. Hello darling. Even if he forgot the name, he made each and every individual feel special, and they ate it up.

  During the following days, Hub worked on refining the ambiance of the Moonlight Dance Academy. Amazingly, he found a large, mirrored ball to hang from the ceiling. He wired it to spin, directing the track lights for a little more dramatic effect. He installed a dimmer switch, setting a more romantic, laid back mood as well as hiding a few sins on the old walls and ceiling.

  While Hub worked on the mechanics of the place, Val used Hub’s truck to distribute more advertising. Hub didn’t doubt for a minute that was what Val was doing, at least part of the time. But he also noticed Val was developing a pretty decent tan. Meanwhile, the only sun Hub seemed to see was through a window.

  At the conclusion of Thursday night, they sat across from one another at their stolen church basement tables and popped a couple of cold beers before reviewing the thick stack of applications for the most likely list of suspects. Val made notes in a spiral notebook, arranging names into an A, B & C list category.

  “You know, this is nothing short of amazing,” Val said. “We’ve got these folks coming in our front door, waving their money. They tell us on these applications which of them will be the best target. It’s pure genius.”

  “Yeah,” Hub said. “But, to tell you the truth, I’ll feel a lot better once we get a couple of these under our belt and get away clean.”

  “Hub, we need a place where we can store the items we get and no one asks questions. Nobody cares. If we’re there at midnight for ten minutes, nobody gives a damn.”

  “What about those storage complexes?” Hub said. “You know, the ones that look like row after row of garages? Maybe run us a couple hundred a month, but that’s just what they’re for, storage.”

  “Na, too logical,” replied Val. “Too easy to trace us, there’s security, and they might keep a record of us coming and going. We show up too often in the middle of the night, and someone might start asking questions.”

  “So, hang onto the stuff overnight,” said Hub. “No one is going to file a police report the next day. If we play it carefully, bring it to our safe location every day, same time, it will look like we’ve been out buying this stuff at estate sales or something. Maybe, we even do that once in a while, buy something. We drive up to Atlanta with the stuff we get in the middle of the night. But we keep the items we buy, always keep those in the storage, like a front. Anyone ever looks, it’s all things we purchased. We even keep the receipts.”

  “I like that idea,” Val said, not sure where Hub would have come up with it. “Give all the indications it’s a legitimate business. Maybe even get a tax ID number, that sort of thing. Run the rest just under the radar, keep enough of it legit to cover us, just in case.”

  Val linked his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. “I still like the idea of having the place in someone else’s name, though. But who could we get? Who would ever sign their name to something like that?”

  “Jimmy!” they both said out loud.

  Chapter 13

  Hub drove Val and Jimmy out to Bay Area Security Storage. Val sat in the middle, explaining to Jimmy that he had furniture being shipped down and would need a place to store it.

  “Jimmy, with you being a Florida resident and all, it would just be easier if we rented the space in your name. You know, eliminate all sorts of questions about why I’m renting the space. Where do I live? How long have I lived here? Besides, Jimmy, I’ll give ya fifty bucks, you know, just for being a pal and helping your buddies out.”

  “So, let me get this straight,” Jimmy said in-between bites of a giant Snickers bar. “You got yourself this furniture and stuff on the way down here. And you ain’t got room for it at your joint. And you’re gonna pay rent just to let the damn stuff sit somewhere? Why not keep the stuff with me and Deanna? I got a shed out back, could probably make some room for you. No need to pay us a damn cent. We’ll just do it.”

  “Jimmy, thanks, real nice of you,” Val said, working hard to ignore the bits of peanut landing on his leg, “but this is old family stuff, not necessarily worth a lot of money to anyone, but it’s, you know, kind of sentimental to me. I need to be sure it’s safe.”

  “Well, okay, suit yourself. I get it. I got me a recliner like that. You’ve seen it there, remember?” Jimmy said, licking melted chocolate off his fingertips and wiping his hand on his T-shirt. “It’s broke in, just the way I like it. Comfortable as all get out. Me and Deanna even took a spin or two on it, if you get what I mean.”

  Jimmy signed for the storage space, and they walked out with the key. The whole process took no more than six minutes. That included the time they waited while Ruiz, working behind the counter, said, “Just a minute, Carmen.” He laid the receiver down to deal with Jimmy.

  Jimmy signed on two lines and initialed a third. Ruiz never asked him for identification. He handed Ruiz three months’ cash in advance and grabbed a business card with the address to mail monthly payments.

  “No problem, you mail it in,” Ruiz told them. “But you fall behind, then I got to padlock your door n’ it’s another fifteen dollars to get the lock off, plus the rent. So don’t be late with the rent.”

  The following Tuesday night was the first night Hub copied keys. He collected the keys from purses placed in the ‘secure room’. He entered the room from the second, smaller office. He copied anything that looked like a house key, returned the originals to the purse, crosschecking the name from a driver’s license or credit card. He never stole so much as a dollar from a purse, although it was tempting. To everyone on the dance floor, it looked as though the room remained secure. Hub was able to copy fourteen separate sets of keys, carefully labeling each set with the name before locking them in a small toolbox in the workspace.

  It was late Tuesday night before Hub and Val finally returned to their apartment. Due to the lack of furniture, they wrapped their hands around a couple of cold beers, sat on the floor, and reviewed their list of the most likely suspects.

  Val arranged the names in order, based on a feeling or sense he had after looking at the applications and meeting the people. He was trying to remember which ones had impressed him as the best potential targets. But, after arraigning and rearranging the names a half-dozen times, he had led himself around in circles and become thoroughly confused.

  “Maybe we’re making this too hard,” Hub said. “Why not just set these up, so I’m not driving back and forth all over town? Choose a main target, a secondary, and just for the sake of time, have a third one lined up, in case things are really going well. I’ll drive past them during the day and scope things out. At night, if something doesn’t feel or seem quite right, I can always move onto our second or third choice. If things go smoothly, I’m on to the next place.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Val said and began to sort the list based on zip codes.

  Chapter 14

  Thursday, Hub dropped Val off an hour early then carefully double-checked his tools. He had a flowery card in an envelope in the front seat, written in Val’s phony feminine scrawl. It read, Hub, these were your grandmother’s, treasure them. Love, Aunt Edith. Hub thought, if he was stopped by the cops, he could use the card to explain why he was driving around town with a front seat full of silver serving pieces and jewelry.

  He phoned Val at around 8:30. “Have our three targets arrived yet?”

  “Yes, and there’s dancing until 12:00 tonight. Thank you for calling,” Val replied.

  Based on the response, Hub figured someone must be standing near him. “And the alternates, are they there, too?”

&n
bsp; “Yes, sir, that is correct,” Val said.

  “So you’re telling me it’s okay to go, correct?”

  “You are correct, sir.”

  Hub hung up, picked up a second cell phone, and called the first house he planned to enter. If someone actually answered, he’d simply pretend it was a wrong number. After six rings, the phone rolled over to the message center, and he hung up. He drove the two blocks from where he had first parked and pulled up in front of the house. It was a nice, long, brick affair with a neatly edged, pine straw front path and a split rail cedar fence.

  Hub wore his alarm installation tool belt. He carried a clipboard and a large box as he walked to the front door. The clipboard was his own idea. He had written down the address and transposed the number. That way, if someone answered once he rang the doorbell, it would just look like an honest mistake. If not, once inside, he had his tool belt to deal with any alarm and the large box to stack things in before leaving. To any pain-in-the-ass neighbor, it would look like he was making a delivery.

  He walked up the front path and rang the doorbell. He waited a long moment, rang the bell again, and listened. He had three possible keys for this address, but this particular front door had a Yale lock, which immediately narrowed his choice.

  Standing at the front door, he felt like he was alone in the middle of a football field, with his pants down and a spotlight shining on him. He carefully slipped the key in the lock and turned it cautiously. Click. And the door swung wide open. Just as easy as that, Hub stepped in and quickly closed the door behind him. He frantically looked around for an alarm system, all the while keeping his ears set for the slightest hint of noise. Aside from his heart still pounding and the blood rushing past his eardrums, he didn’t hear a thing. He stood still, just inside the front door, for a full three minutes until he was fairly sure he was alone, then waited another two minutes just to play it safe. It was finally time to move, quickly, if he wanted to be out in ten minutes.