Skating Over the Line (29 page)

“Well, would you look at that? Your father has moved on to someone else.” Doreen stood next to me in her fifties getup and gave a small
tsk.

“You did, too,” I reminded her.

“Had to.” She nodded. “Your father is a heartbreaker. Always knows just what a girl wants to hear and says it in the right way. Problem is, he means it when it says it. That's why we all fall for it. He just forgets. Fun for a night, but a lifetime … well, you know.”

I did know.

Doreen sighed, gave herself a little shake, and said, “I called the rink earlier, but you weren't around.”

“I didn't get the message.”

“I didn't leave one.” Doreen's eyes sparkled along with her glasses. “There is so much bad news in my business. I like to give the good news in person.”

“Good news?” After my breakup with Lionel, I could use some.

“I told the buyers you were anxious to complete the sale. Since there is a trained manager in place, they are willing to move back the closing. How does next Friday sound?”

“Next Friday?” The room in front of me spun.

“I knew you'd be delighted. I even made sure they'd give you a couple weeks to move your mother's things out of the apartment. As long as the place is empty by the end of August, there won't be a problem. That's when their renovations begin.”

“Renovations?” What renovations?

Doreen nodded. “They're planning on dividing the office/third bedroom into two bedrooms. Oh, and they're going to remove the living room window that overlooks the rink. I can't say I blame them. I like my privacy.”

That window was torture as a kid. Mom would watch me like God from above, seeing every mistake in my skating. But the idea of removing it hurt. A lot. My mother had loved it. Maybe, just maybe, I might, too.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” A disembodied voice echoed in the hall. “The Indian Falls Senior Center is proud to present … Elvis!”

Synthesized music filled the air. Pop strutted out onto the stage in all his glittering glory. A flock of women crowded the front of the stage. Pop gyrated his hips to the right. The women shrieked. He gyrated his hips to the left, and the women went wild. And then he started singing “Can't Help Falling in Love.” Next came “Don't Be Cruel,” and the hits kept coming.

To say Pop wasn't the greatest singer was an understatement of serious proportions. But what my grandfather lacked in skill, he more than made up for in style. He smiled, he winked, he moved his pelvis in a disturbing manner, and he gave out dozens of scarves. Everyone was so busy fighting over them, they didn't notice that Pop occasionally forgot the words. Pop was a rock star the likes of which Indian Falls had never seen. Who needed talent?

Thirty minutes after Pop started, he strutted off the stage for a break. With my distraction gone, I was left to wonder why I wasn't up dancing with the rest of the female population. The rink was finally selling. My time in Indian Falls was coming to an end. Life was good.

So why did I feel so crappy? Maybe it was like Christmas when I was a kid. I'd get so worked up anticipating the day. Then, when it came, it never lived up to the hype. That had to be it. It wasn't that I wanted to stay in this town and run the rink. No. I'd spent my entire life running from that fate.

Of course, there were the unsolved car thefts and fires. I wanted to know who was behind them. Leaving town before that case was settled felt wrong. Incomplete. Once the thief was put behind bars, I'd be ready to celebrate my return to Chicago. Right?

I smoothed out my dress and started forward, ready to kick up my heels to Frankie Avalon's crooning. Suddenly, my feet stopped moving and my mouth went dry. Standing in the doorway, looking incredibly handsome, was Lionel—and he'd brought a date.

 

Twenty-two

Lionel scoped the room.
His eyes settled on mine as he wrapped his arm around the bottle blonde next to him. No doubt the same blonde my father'd mentioned ogling at Lionel's place. A gray-haired woman near the couple pointed at them. Then at me. A woman next to her clutched her chest and raced over to share the drama with a group near the stage. The Indian Falls gossip train was heading out of the station. Just what I needed to brighten my day.

The blond bimbo smiled up at Lionel and giggled. My stomach clenched. A simmering rage built in my chest. Most women I knew would have wanted to claw out the chick's eyes in this situation. Not me. I wanted to punch Lionel square in the mouth. He had created this drama. The chick was blameless, even if her clothes were tacky. Lionel's date had vacant eyes, big boobs, and a really short skirt. Not his type. Or was she? The way he smiled at her, I wasn't sure.

With the hall buzzing about Lionel's new love interest, I looked around for a safe haven. Jimmy Bakersfield gave me a thumbs-up from across the room. He was surrounded by half a dozen Senior Center women, who were all watching me with knowing smiles.

The mariachi band seemed to be missing in action, but Clayton Zimmerman had sidled up to the soda fountain and was talking to a couple of ladies. Hooking up with the new lawyer in town might help my bruised ego, but the memory of squirrel dust made me think twice.

Bingo. Walking in the door was Sean Holmes. He'd changed clothes since our adventure in the parking lot. Now he was sporting a white T-shirt, jeans, and a black leather jacket. A small bulge under the jacket made me smile. Only Sean would think it necessary to be armed at a dinner dance. I wondered if he'd lend me the gun. Lionel was giving blondie one of his lazy smiles. I decided death was too good for him, so I went with plan B.

Taking a cue from my grandfather's act, I swung my hips into undulating action and crossed the room. I reached Sean, smiled, and pulled his head down for a kiss. It wasn't a great kiss, but I couldn't blame Sean for that. The guy was surprised as hell. So was Lionel. I could see his nostrils flaring when Sean and I came up for air. Score.

“Jailhouse Rock” boomed from the speakers as Pop bopped back out onto the stage. Behind him were three members of the mariachi band, equipped with tambourines, maracas, and castanets. The crowd went wild.

I yanked Sean onto the dance floor and started jiggling, hoping to entice him to play along. Sean gave me a goofy look, shrugged, and cut loose. Wow, could the guy dance. He spun, twirled, and dipped me without causing injury to either of us.

The song ended, and Pop and his backup band began playing “It's Now or Never.” I wrapped my arms around Sean before he could bolt. Lionel and his date were still on the sidelines. Lionel looked furious. The girl looked hurt and confused. She was trying to talk to him but was receiving no response.

“So what's the fight about?”

I looked up at Sean. “What fight?”

He laughed. “Doctor Doolittle has his arm around Betsy Moore, and you're coming on to me. I don't mind being used, but I like to know the pertinent facts.”

I snuggled closer for the pleasure of our viewing audience. “Lionel and I had a disagreement about my father today. Before we could talk it over, he shows up with what's-her-name draped all over him. He did it to make me jealous. So I decided to return the favor.”

Sean cocked his head to the side and nodded. “Sounds about right.”

“Really?” I couldn't tell if he was joking. Thank God Sean wasn't in our poker group.

He shrugged. “You don't sit around waiting for situations to resolve themselves. He should know that. Hell, the whole town knows it. It drives me nuts.”

“I can't help it.”

“I've figured that out.” He gave me a half smile. “But that doesn't mean I'm ever going to like you poking into my cases. In fact, I'm surprised to see you here. Aren't you supposed to be staking out nearby fields in case they explode?”

“Tomorrow,” I joked. “Tonight I'm doing the supportive family thing.”

“Maybe by tomorrow, you won't have anything to stake out.”

I peered up at Sean's knowing expression. “What does that mean? Did you find Sinbad's car? Do you have a lead?”

Sean just gave me a smug smile, which I thought was pretty silly, considering my hand was inches from his gun. The song came to an end. Pop's voice disappeared, and Sean pulled me close. He leaned down. His face closed in on mine. I could smell mint. He must have brushed his teeth before coming to the dance. His mouth stopped an inch from my lips, and he said, “I have an arrest to make. Don't follow me, or I'll shoot your tires.”

The next thing I knew, the man was across the room and out the door.

Sean had to have known he couldn't drop a bomb like that and expect me to stay put. He'd just finished telling me as much. It had to be a dare. One I accepted.

A few people tried to engage me in conversation as I made my way to the exit, but I was on a mission. Sean thought he'd solved the car theft case before I could. A part of me hoped he hadn't. Call me crazy, but it was my case. If I was finally selling the rink and leaving town, I wanted to do it in a blaze of glory.

My feet hit the hallway as “Viva Las Vegas” blasted through the center. I was almost to the front door when an arm grabbed me.

“Becky, what the hell was that?” Lionel's green eyes blazed in the fluorescent light.

“What was what?” I could see Sean's police cruiser turning from the parking lot onto the street.

“The number you did with Sean Holmes. You hate the guy.”

“
Hate
is a strong word.” I watched the car turn left and strained to see it as it disappeared out of sight. Drat. Looking up at Lionel, I said, “You're right. Sean and I don't always see eye-to-eye. Today we do.”

“What's so different today?”

My first answer was a D-cup blonde in a miniskirt. I went with my second choice. “Until today, I was involved with you. Now that we aren't dating, I thought I'd give Sean a whirl before I leave town.”

Lionel dropped my arm as if scalded. “You're really leaving town.” It wasn't a question. He was pronouncing a death sentence.

“We close on the rink next Friday,” I said, trying to ignore the sick feeling I got when talking about the sale. “As soon as I pack up the apartment, I'm off to Chicago. Then you won't have to worry about my getting in the way of you and your blond girlfriend.”

“Well then, I guess I should give you something to remember me by when you're gone.”

Lionel moved quickly. One minute, he was standing three feet away; the next, his mouth was on mine. For a minute, I tried to stay uninvolved, but his mouth was deliciously insistent and was causing tiny goose bumps to sprout up and down my spine. So I caved. Yeah, I was pissed at him for trotting out the resident blonde. And I hated that he'd kept my father's whereabouts a secret. But damn, the man could kiss. I wrapped my arms around him as my body tightened and tugged in response while striving for more.

“See, honey, Lionel and Rebecca are still together. I knew you got it wrong.”

I blinked as Lionel's warm body stepped away from mine. Beaming at us were Doc Truman and his wife.

“Hi,” I said, trying inconspicuously to assess whether my garments were all in the right place. “I didn't see the two of you at the dance.”

“You were both busy,” Mrs. Truman tittered. She was a birdlike woman with sparkly eyes that matched her disposition. Tittering worked for Mrs. Truman.

Doc smiled down at his tiny blond wife. “Mary came early with the Ladies' Guild. I had to make a trip to the hospital. At least I made it in time for ‘Viva Las Vegas.'”

“Hospital?” An image of a trembling Max sprang to mind. “Who's in the hospital?”

Doc waved off my concern. “One of the Finn kids fell off his bike and broke his wrist. He'll be good as new in six weeks.”

“You sounded concerned, dear.” Mary Truman gave my arm a little pat. “Is there someone you're worried about?”

“My rink manager, Max, went home from work sick. When I stopped to see him earlier today, he was pale and unsteady. I told him to give Doc a call.” I turned to the source and asked, “Did he?”

Doc shook his head. “Sinbad's boy? Can't say he did. Eleanor might have answered the phone, but she would have told me about it. I'll drop by his house tomorrow and check on him, if it'll make you feel better.”

Small-town hospitality at its finest. It put the big city I loved to shame.

“That's okay. His mother is probably stuffing him with chicken soup and taking his temperature every five minutes.”

Doc shrugged. “Well, I'll have Eleanor give his mother a call and see what's what. If the flu is going around, it's best to be prepared. Now, the two of you enjoy your evening and I'll see you both for our game tomorrow.”

Hand in hand, Doc and his wife strolled out of the center, leaving Lionel and me alone.

“I should probably get going.” I inched closer to the front door. “And you should get back to your date. She's going to be wondering what happened to you.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Lionel's mouth. “I doubt it. When I left, Betsy was flirting with some new lawyer in town. Guess she figured out I was more interested in the floor show than in her.”

Something told me Betsy was exactly the welcoming committee Clayton was looking for. I just hoped she had a fondness for stuffed wildlife. Still, as fascinating as Betsy's love life was, I had to get going.

“Look, I'm sorry about tonight. My maturity level hit a new low.” Lionel looked ready to delve into deep conversation, so I quickly added, “I really have to go. During my trip through high school behavior, Sean said he was off to arrest someone for the arsons and murder. I don't have an idea where he went, but—”

“You want to find him.”

I bit my lip and nodded.

Lionel looked like he was torn between murdering me and giving me a patronizing pat. Before he had to choose, though, his phone buzzed. He looked down at the screen. “Sean is at the firehouse. Come on. I'll drive.”