Black Adagio (34 page)

“Yeah, well, she lied. That’s all.”

“Her mother?”

“No, not her mother … Babs.”

It was Todd’s turn to ask questions.

“Why would she do that, Mr. Mulligan?”

“Because she didn’t want to be found. By lying to her mother about where she was, she was making sure she wasn’t bothered. Even if her mother tried to find her, she wouldn’t be where she thought she was. Oh, it’s so like Babs. She was a smart one. Wild, but smart. There was never a girl like her. Never. I was so crazy about her that I didn’t know if I was coming or going. It’s why when she told me she was dating that other guy, I didn’t even care.”

“What other guy?”

“Manny. Manny Jacobs. Guy that owns the diner.”

“He was dating Barbara?”

“Yes, he was in that group she got mixed up with. The Innocents.”

“And what do you know about them?”

“Not much. She wouldn’t say much of anything other than she’d joined. There was some kind of falling out though.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because she told me. Course, she wasn’t above being creative with the truth, but I believed her. You see, they had regular meetings. Every other Sunday and Wednesday. Then there were the Sabbaths.”

“Sabbaths?”

“Yeah, something about them being holidays. I think it mostly boiled down to the solstices, but after whatever happened, she no longer adhered to the schedule. She was available those nights. Made it easier to see her. I had a schedule of my own. I see you eyeing my hair. Everyone does. I’m a musician. You probably saw the guitar case when you came in.”

“I did.”

“We were called “Rocket and The Hooligans.” We did fifties rock. Still do, actually. Got some new guys. It pays the bills. It’s how I met Babs.”

“How did you?”

“She came to a club we were playing. She told me she was 18, but I knew she was lying. Had fake ID, but then everybody did back then.”

Falling back, the chair catching Todd let out a creak. This was all getting to be too much. It was like trying to put together a sand painting after it’d been blown to the four corners of the world.

“You going to be here for a while, Mr. Mulligan?”

“I guess. I mean, the mystery is over. I know she’s happy with someone else—just don’t know who. And these latest disappearances, well, they don’t really have anything to do with her … or me, right?”

“No, I guess they don’t.”

“Look,” he said getting up and rifling through the pockets of his black leather jacket hanging in the half-opened closet. “Here’s one of my cards. It tells where I can be reached—in case you ever need to speak to me again.”

“Thanks,” Todd replied. Easing his arms in his jacket, he slipped the card in his pocket.

Mulligan grabbed his wrist as he started to turn.

“And, you know, I’d love to know if you find anything more about Barbara. I mean,” he added sheepishly, “she could be divorced, or have had a change of heart. You never know.”

“You really loved her.”

“Yes, I did. She’s the only one I ever did, and there have been lots of women.”

“I’ll bet there have.”

“And I’m sorry about the misunderstanding with those girls. I was just making sure they were safe. Honest. I mean, it was obvious that they went to that school, and that’s where those girls that you’re looking for went, isn’t it?”

“They did indeed.”

“I didn’t mean to scare anyone.”

“I’m sure you didn’t. You have yourself a good night, Mr. Mulligan.”

“You do the same.” Closing the door, he retreated inside to lick his wounds one more time.

Chapter
Forty

“Nothing beats burgers on a grill,” Ace Cummings extolled. The young agent took another bite of the double patty that was a specialty. Bonnie had helped the newcomers out by making suggestions. It was the least she could do for helping to solve Holybrook’s recent crime wave.

“I can feel the cheddar hardening into cheese balls,” Angela Murray joked, not letting it stop her from wolfing down the deluxe cheeseburger. As if it weren’t enough of a nutritious disaster, the two pieces of bacon acting as a topping made it equivalent to a beaver building a dam in her bloodstream. “And I don’t know about that girl,” she said as an aside. Licking the grease dripping down the side of her hand, she grabbed a napkin. Catching it before it dripped on the cuff of her blouse, she added, “I believe her.”

“Thought we weren’t supposed to be discussing the case over dinner,” Ace remarked.

“I do my best thinking when I stuff my face,” she retorted.

“Really? Thought it was when you used that nasty right hook on suspects,” Ace teased. Smirking, he vicariously relived the tale he’d heard one more time. He totally believed it. If anyone could blitz out a bad guy with one punch, it was Angie.

“That story is bogus, Acester. The guy tripped,” the agent assured.

Scott Hotchkins sat polishing off his salisbury steak. Listening to the banter, he didn’t feel the need to comment. His cell going off, he reluctantly put down his fork. The charred meat was too tasty to leave unattended.

“Hotchkins,” he answered, blotting his lips. “Melissa? Yes, I suppose I could, but … Okay, if you think it’s that important. I’m leaving right now,” he responded, concluding the conversation.

“Did I hear you say Melissa? As in Melissa Solange?” Ace asked.

“Yup, it was her. Wants to meet with me,” he said donning his jacket.

“Meet you? Now? Why?” Angela asked, psychically touching on the questions swirling in Ace’s head.

“Haven’t a clue. She just said she needed to show me something.” Standing, he threw money on the table.

“Don’t you think we should come along?” she offered.

“Why?” he said, making a face as he snatched his coat. “She’s hardly a threat. And if it turns out to be anything, I’ll give you two a call. If not, I’ll see ya
mañana
.”

“Yeah, sure,” Ace agreed. Supposing his superior was right, if anyone was harmless, it was Melissa. Even if she’d wanted to do some damage, it would be hard given her slender physique.

The diner bell chiming as he exited, Ace turned to Angie, poking her arm.

“Okay, so the boss is gone.”

“And?”

“And?” he said scooting in closer, and lowering his voice, “It’s the perfect time to tell me about that punch.”

“Oh, you!” she exclaimed.

Laughing, they dug into their meal as Hotchkins got into his car.

Chapter Forty
-one

“Gosh, Melissa, I don’t know what to say! I mean, is it all that bad?” Collette prodded, sipping on her breakfast coffee and eating a slice of unbuttered toast.

“Of course, it’s that bad! Haven’t you been listening?”

In no mood to give lengthy explanations, with what Collette knew about her, it should be easy enough to connect the pieces.

“Jeez! I was just asking! You don’t need to bite my head off! I just don’t see where it’s enough to cancel a trip home. There are things a lot worse.”

“Really?” Melissa retorted, her voice laden with the promise of more sarcasm.

“Yes, really,” Collette fired back. “Remember that Tina and Brandi are still missing. Think about what their families are going through?” she shot, bristling with indignation.

“Like I don’t realize that already!” she battled, refusing to bend one inch on this matter.

Collette frowned, dropping the fork picking through her fruit salad.

“What can I say? You’re right. Just because other people are going through things, doesn’t mean you don’t have the right to be upset about things happening in your life. And who am I to know how your mom’s drinking affected you? I’ve never danced a mile in your pointe shoes, and don’t really know, do I? It’s just you have so much going for you. You seem to have everything. It makes feeling sorry for you a bit difficult, that’s all,” she apologized as best she could.

Melissa exhaled a fistful of air that she wished would slam Collette right in her lovely jaw. Sometimes people were so obtuse. Even nice, well-meaning ones.

“So what are you going to do?” Collette inquired, spreading a dollop of strawberry jam on the last two remaining bites.

“I’m going to talk to Una. I found out that Dad’s skanky lush is going to leave December 23
rd
, the day I was originally supposed to arrive. My dad had made sure she wouldn’t be there when I came home. It was the change in schedule that turned this into a hot mess.”

“How’d you find that out?”

“He called me back. You should have heard her in the background. She had a snootful. Sounded like she was drinking booze out of a trough.”

“You paint quite a picture. As for your dad’s sensitivity being the reason of her leaving, I’m not convinced. Most likely she wanted to spend Christmas with her own family,” she added.

Melissa winced. She hadn’t even considered that as a possibility for the timing.

“I was about to yell at you, but I think you may be right. My Dad sure has a thing for ladies who can hold a bottle between their front teeth.” Looking around the cafeteria, she scanned the faces of the handful of dancers still left at Velofsky’s. “Where’s Kurt? I haven’t seen him this morning and wanted to find out about that non-rendezvous he had with Zoe.”

“Yeah, me, too, but we’ll have to wait until February.”

“Why?”

“Cause he left this morning.”

“But I thought he was leaving tomorrow?”

“Change of plans. Justin invited him to his home for a few days. Kurt took him up on the offer and headed home to trade in wintry togs with tropical gear. He’ll meet up with him in a couple of days. I suspect those two are going to have a good old time hanging out on the beaches in Boca Raton.”

“Crap! I’m sorry I missed him,” Melissa replied, sopping up her waffle with a thick dose of maple syrup. The melted butter oozed altering the color to honey golden. “Would have loved to have heard what Zoe wanted—if she got away from Justin, that is. Don’t suppose you asked?”

“Wasn’t time. So when are you talking to Una?”

“In a few minutes. Asked Tracey …”

“Who’s Tracey?”

“Oh, you are so dense,” Melissa said, disdain dripping from her tone. “She’s the girl that works in the office. The one that schedules the classes and puts the announcements on the bulletin board and ... Never mind!” she said halting the lecture. “Anyway,
Tracey penciled me in for a chat at around 11.”

“Good luck. I don’t like the idea of you staying here all alone. I could ask my parents if I can bring you home. I don’t think they’d mind.”

“You’re sweet, but I doubt they’d like a strange girl in their house around holiday time. I can just see me sprawled out on the floor in one of my stretches and your mom and dad tripping over me.”

Collette giggled. “That would make the invite all the more worthwhile. Especially if they were carrying egg nog in a punch bowl or something.”

“You are so not nice,” Melissa chuckled.

“Well, I gotta go and pack, sweetie,” she said getting up and giving Melissa a peck on her cheek. “Don’t let him bite,” she said indicating Alexei. Sitting at a nearby table, he was engaged in nursing a cup of coffee. “Although I doubt he’d do that now. I hear you’re his favorite,” she teased.

Scrunching up her face, Missy stuck her tongue out at her departing friend. Alone at the table, she pushed her empty plate away, gazing out the window at the woods. Curious as to what was happening, federal agents were milling about.

“Excuse me,” came the deep, heavily accented voice. “May I?”

Alexei’s request caught her by surprise. Staring into his ruggedly handsome face, she wasn’t sure she wanted him next to her. Not only because it might seem inappropriate, it had more to do with him being intimidating. Teachers and choreographers usually were.

“Sure,” she squeaked, doubting the wisdom of her decision.

Smiling, he seated himself across from her. Relaxing back in the chair, he looped his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans. A move reserved for those that were supremely confident, he fell into that category.

“Thank you. I don’t normally sit with my students, but you’re not that anymore. You’re my lead dancer,” he extolled through a sly grin.

The compliment greased the wheels, easing her discomfort.

“Thank you, but I definitely am still learning.”

He studied her face, absorbing the fullness of her answer. A calculating expression on his features, it was used in contemplation.

“Dance is important to you?”

“It’s my whole life,” she avowed, meaning every word.

“You scare me sometimes,” he remarked, not showing any fluctuation in emotion despite the wild claim.

“Scare you? How?”

“Excuse, please,” he answered, placing an apologetic hand over his chest in a display of sincerity. “As you can tell, English is not my first language. Perhaps I meant ‘
worry
.’ I should have said that you worry me. Is that better?”