Dying for a Dance (26 page)

I looked around and realized her baby daughter was missing. “Who's watching Katya?”

“Uncle Vladimir.”

I lifted my arm well above my head. Irina grinned and nodded.

“I didn't realize Vladimir was your uncle. Does he also compete?”

“No, not in the dance. Many years ago when he was still living in Moscow, he compete in different sport.”

“He's so enormous. Is he a weightlifter?”

“No, he compete in biathlon in the winter Olympics.” I cocked my finger at her and she nodded. “Da, is very difficult sport.”

“I can barely stand up on my skis without falling down,” I said. “I can't imagine hauling a rifle around. How did he do in the Olympics?”

“He won the silver medal. Only lose by one point.”

“That must have been tough.”

“Yes, he claim the person who won the gold medal cheated,” she said with a sigh. “They used to be best friends but Vladimir will no longer speak to Boris. It is sad because Boris is my friend.”

My eyes widened. “Boris, the studio owner?”

“Yes, is difficult situation. Vlad was most unhappy when he find out the owner of the studio where we dance was his old enemy.”

A couple of dancers walked in and began rummaging through the dresses on her rack. “Excuse me, I should go help them.”

“Of course, I almost forgot why I came here. Liz left her veil at home. Do you have any white netting we could use? She's getting married in...” I looked down at my watch. “Four hours.”

Irina pursed her lips then told me to wait. She crossed the room and in less than two minutes was back with a swatch of netting and a plain white satin headband. I watched as her needle zipped in and out of the fabric, faster than a mosquito on the attack.

In what seemed like mere seconds, Irina attached the lightweight fabric to the anchor that would rest on the bride's hair. She grabbed a dozen fake stones, all similarly sized, from a small bowl and used the special adhesive to glue them across the top of the headpiece. The final product was even prettier than the original veil.

“That's beautiful. I can't believe how quickly you put that together.”

She shrugged, a wistful expression crossing her pretty face. “It's nothing. I do it all the time. We add stones to the dresses and the shoes. It makes more flash.”

“More flash?” I asked, confused.

“Yes, the better the stone quality, the more the sparkle. You must have flash to impress the judges. Like Paula. She is at the gold level so she must have the best crystals on her dresses.”

This whole topic of dressing to please the judges was really intriguing. Maybe if I could afford a four-thousand-dollar dress, it wouldn't matter if I bothered to learn the steps.

“Do you make Paula's dresses for her?”

Irina's face darkened and she shook her head. “Paula is so fussy she must have specially designed dresses. When she and Dimitri go to competitions in Vancouver and Toronto she always buy brand new gown and it always must come from Didier.”

“Where's Didier?” I asked.

“No, is not a place. Is person,” Irina said. “Didier is famous ball gown designer from Quebec. Paula met him long ago when she worked on cruise ship. He brings his dresses to many of the big shows.”

“It's a good thing her husband does so well.”

Irina shrugged. “I think it's silly to pay so much for new gowns when I can make them for much less. At first Dimitri agree with me but then he change his mind.”

Her eyes welled with tears. “I guess Dimitri think I not good enough for his clients.” She reached for a tissue but the box was empty.

I fumbled in my purse for a clean tissue and noticed the stone I'd retrieved from under the table the day before. I pulled it out and showed it to Irina.

“This crystal fell off of Paula's dress yesterday afternoon. Do you think you'll be seeing her and could return it?”

Irina took the crystal and rolled it around her palm. She plucked a similar sized stone from a tiny bag stored in her sewing kit and compared the two. Then she walked over to a window and held them up to the light.

She handed the stone back to me, wearing a puzzled look. “Are you sure this is crystal from Paula's dress? It is much nicer than my stones. No wonder she is so fussy about her dresses. It shines like diamond.” Irina's lower lip quivered. “Dimitri, he used to say diamonds are girl's best friend. I'm not sure what he mean. Is another strange American expression.”

Since diamonds unfortunately have never been
my
best friend, I agreed it was another peculiar idiom. I glanced at my watch. No more time for chit chatting, even though it was fascinating to learn more about this crazy world of competition dance.

I opened my purse, shoved Paula's crystal inside the side pocket and took some twenties out of my wallet. “Irina, what do I owe you?”

She pushed the money aside. “Is nothing. Tell Liz I very happy for her and hope her marriage last a long time.” Her voice broke and I was afraid she was about to burst into tears when her gaze suddenly shifted to the doorway. Her face turned whiter than the netting she held in her hands and her eyes flared into emerald embers of anger.

“I must go.” She threw the headpiece into my arms, pushed past the dancers in the doorway and rushed out of the room.

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FORTY-FIVE

* * * *

By the time I untangled my arms from the netting and folded up the veil, Irina had disappeared down the hallway. She was one volatile Russian.

Speaking of volatile, if I didn't deliver the substitute veil to the bride, a volcanic eruption might ignite in Liz's chambers. I scurried into the elevator and seconds later, knocked on the door of the soon-to-be honeymoon suite. The remains of a glass of champagne standing next to the cosmetic sundries might be a clue to Liz's lack of pre-nuptial jitters.

“Here you go.” I displayed her new veil on the bedspread. “Irina made it for you free of charge. She even decorated the headband.”

Liz scrutinized the workmanship of the substitute. “That woman is brilliant.” She flashed a brilliant smile of her own. “Thanks, luv. You know I could never have pulled this wedding off without you.”

We exchanged hugs, both tearing up. I left for my own make-up session knowing one thing was certain—if I had to choose between a diamond and Liz as my best friend, even in Bridezilla mode, Liz won hands down.

Two hours later, I was as gorgeous as one glass of champagne and the talented make-up artist could deliver. I smoothed my silver silk gown and preened in front of the mirror, wondering if the detective would notice my glamorous new look. With my luck, the only man who would compliment me tonight would be my gay friend.

I grabbed my lipstick, room key and hairbrush and tucked the tiny crystal that had fallen off Paula's dress into the pocket of my silver evening bag. Her scholarship event was coming up soon so the odds were high that I might run into her somewhere in the hotel.

My cell rang displaying Stan as the caller. I had to be downstairs for the pre-wedding photographs in ten minutes, but he could be calling with his competition results.

“Did you win?”

In a voice barely above a whisper, he replied, “No, I haven't competed yet. I can't find Anya anywhere. I don't know if she's left the hotel or if she's still hiding. What if something happened to her?”

“Calm down, Stan. Where are you and why are you whispering?”

“I'm in the main ballroom. I don't know who to trust anymore. I ran into Marcus in the lobby. He was checking out of the hotel. When I asked if he knew where Anya was he shrugged and said they decided not to dance together.” Stan's voice increased in volume and pitch. “And every time I make eye contact with Boris he does that thing with his finger like he's shooting a gun at me. He's freaking me out.”

I heard a female voice in the background. “Who's with you?”

“Irina's sitting next to me.” A few seconds elapsed. “Sorry, I moved away. I'm not sure whether to trust Irina either although she said she would compete with me if the judges let me make a substitution.”

“What if she's the murderer?”

“Well, if Irina is planning on killing me, hopefully she'll wait until after the tango competition,” he muttered. “Then you can drape my first place ribbon across my dead body.”

“Hey, that's no way to talk. What's Anya's last name again? I can try calling her room, but then I have to get downstairs. There's a wedding going on in a little over an hour, you know.”

“Her last name is Taranova. Wait a minute. Omigod. Paula just arrived. You should see the crystals shimmering on her dress. That woman looks like a million dollars.”

The phone went dead just as the door to my hotel room slammed shut behind me. I walked down the corridor then entered the elevator. I opened my purse and tucked the phone into the interior pocket.

“Darn.” Paula's crystal fell out of the pocket and landed on the carpet in the elevator. I bent over, hoping I wouldn't have to crawl all over the carpet in order to locate it. As the elevator doors opened, the sunlight blazing through the floor-to-ceiling windows shone on the stone, which had rested next to my shoe.

I picked up the tiny object, held it between my thumb and index finger and walked up to the windows lining the lobby. Fresh snow gleamed on the stately pine trees like iced white frosting. The late afternoon sunlight shone on the crystal in my hand causing it to shimmer with color.

I stared at the winter wonderland lost in thought, wondering what exactly Stan meant when he said Paula's gown looked like a million dollars.

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FORTY-SIX

* * * *

I stood frozen in the lobby pondering how crazy would someone have to be to wear a diamond encrusted dress in order to win a dance competition. Had Dimitri noticed his partner's affinity for priceless gems?

Across from the bustling lobby was the shopping arcade and facing me was a large tasteful gold sign for Genesis Jewelry. The photography session wouldn't begin for another ten minutes so I raced across the lobby and entered the store. The display cases were covered with wall-to-wall bling, but I didn't have time to drool over things I couldn't afford. And I had a question that was burning a hole in my purse.

Several of the sales staff were occupied helping customers. One salesman must have noticed my frantic look. He walked over to assist me. “May I help you?”

I plucked the crystal out of my purse. “Yes, thanks. Can you tell me if this stone is a diamond?”

The distinguished pinstriped suited salesman didn't even blink an eye at my unorthodox request. He picked up a jeweler's loupe and examined the stone. Within seconds he nodded. “It's definitely a diamond. You weren't sure? Was it a gift?”

“Long story,” I replied. “Is there any way to tell what this stone is worth?”

He shook his head. “Not today. We'd need to have a certified specialist appraise it. It looks like a decent stone, though.” He scrutinized it under his loupe again. “I was looking to see if it was produced by one of the well known Canadian mines. Some of the larger mines mark their diamonds with minuscule polar bear or maple leaf marks.”

“Oh, I didn't realize there were diamond mines in Canada.”

“The first mine was discovered in the Northwest Territory in 1998. Canada now produces one third of the diamonds in the world.”

“I had no idea. I thought most diamonds came from Africa.”

“The Sierra Leone continues to be one of the largest sources of diamonds, but despite the Kimberly Process Certification passed in 2003 to regulate trading of conflict diamonds, there are still issues worldwide.”

I remembered watching the movie
Blood Diamond.
That had been quite an eye opener.

The salesman was now warming up to his topic. I glanced at my watch. Five minutes past photo shoot time. I was about to interrupt his diamond monologue when he uttered something that absolutely got my attention.

“Of course, no matter what laws they pass, they'll never be able to totally eradicate diamond smuggling, whether it's for money laundering purposes or just the laundering of conflict diamonds.”

He returned the stone to me and I gawked at him, my mouth open wide enough to shove my purse in.

Paula's husband had mentioned their financial windfall this year due to his commodity investments. At the time, I assumed Richard was referring to the surging prices of gold, silver and other commodities that had turned out to be a great investment vehicle. But diamonds? Talk about a one-of-a-kind commodity, especially the black market kind.

Had Paula discovered a way to make a fast buck to support her expensive dance habit?

And had Dimitri figured out their scheme? How desperate would they be to keep from having their smuggling scheme discovered?

Desperate enough to kill?

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FORTY-SEVEN

* * * *

I glanced to the left where the chapel was located, which was where I should be heading for the wedding photos. Then I looked to the right, in the direction of the ballroom competition. If Paula killed Dimitri and Yuri, had she also eliminated Anya? Was her husband involved in the smuggling? And the murders?

Liz might
want
to kill me for being a couple of minutes late, but I wasn't taking a chance on anything happening to Stan. Who knew how desperate Paula was at this point.

I called Stan to tell him about my discovery and to warn him to stay away from Paula. My call went directly into his voicemail. Darn. I forgot phones are required to be turned off during the competition.

Then I called Liz but she didn't pick up either. I left a message telling her not to worry. I'd only be a few minutes late. Tom was next on my list. I called his number twice then finally gave up leaving him a message to meet me in the grand ballroom. Before a killer waltzed her way out the door.

As I raced down the hallway, my heart beat so loudly it sounded like a bomb ticking away the seconds. I dodged several dancers, turned the corner and ran into a mass of people all waiting to enter the ballroom. None of whom were willing to let the frantic woman with the crazed eyes cut in front of them.