Trudy, Madly, Deeply (Working Stiffs Mystery Series) (16 page)

“You’re supposed to be looking at me, not your feet,” Steve muttered.

“Men,” Suzy’s voice was getting closer, “forward with the right foot. Ladies, step back with your left.”

I heard ‘right foot’ and did a face plant in his chest. “If I look at you, I swear I’ll step on your foot again.”

“Men, forward with the left foot, and ladies, back with your right.”

I hesitated, my gray matter on overload.

“
Your
right,” he said, tapping the toe of my espadrille with his brown leather loafer. “And don’t worry about stepping on my foot. You’re not that heavy.”

My one hundred sixty-four pounds begged to differ. “Gee, thanks.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

I met Suzy’s gaze as she wove her way to us. She nodded in recognition.

“Now, feet together and let’s try that again,” she yelled over the music, then placed her hand on my shoulder, beaming like I was her prized pupil. “So glad you can make it. How’s it going with you two?”

“Swell,” I said flatly.

Steve’s lips curled into an easy smile. “She’s new.”

“So were you last week.” Suzy gave me a pat as if to infuse encouragement into me. “Try it again. You’ll catch on.”

She stepped behind me. “Okay, men, right foot back. Ladies, left foot forward.”

I locked on his gaze. “You were here last week?” Of course, I already knew the answer, but I wanted to watch him dance around the question.

“Good eye contact, Charmaine,” Suzy said. “That’s key with every step you take.”

Yes, it was.

“Men, step left. Ladies, step right.”

Steve’s pupils constricted as if he were studying me. “You’re not looking at your feet.”

“And you’re not answering the question.”

“Men, forward with the right foot. Ladies, back with your left.”

His lips compressed for a fraction of a second. “Do you always talk when you dance?”

“Men, forward with the left foot,” Suzy shouted like a drill instructor as she stepped to my left. “Ladies, back with the right.”

“I do when I’m interested in what the other person has to say.”

“Ah.” The creases at the corners of his eyes crinkled as he held my gaze.

Other than the fact that he found my attempt to read him entertaining, he gave away nothing. Dammit.

“And feet together.” Suzy clapped. “You’ve got it.”

Some basic dance steps—not exactly the
it
I’d been going for.

“Okay,” Suzy announced in a brisk pace back to the platform, “let’s add the rest of the steps.”

Let’s not.

I was doing little more than running in circles, which might have helped burn off a few bites of pie, but wasn’t telling me much that I didn’t already know.

I pushed away and fanned myself with my hand. “It’s really hot in here.”

It wasn’t, but making myself a moving target seemed like a good distraction while I searched for my grandmother. I didn’t have to look far. “There’s Gram,” I said when I found her sitting with Arlene in the first row of folding chairs.

Steve grabbed my left hand before I could make a clean getaway. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To get her out here so she can join in on the fun.” I tugged at his hand. “Come on, that
is
the reason I came.”

“Sure it is.” He glanced back at Suzy and Jake on the platform like I had just colored outside of the lines of his playbook.

Arlene and Gram had identical smiles as we approached, looking like a couple of mother hens with plenty to cackle about.

“Enjoying yourself?” Gram asked, eyeballing Steve’s hand in mine.

“Yes, and now it’s your turn.”

Her eyes widened. “But you two look like you’re having so much fun, don’t you—”

“No,” I blurted out to nip any speculation about our relationship in the bud.

Arlene heaved a sigh.

Sorry to disappoint, Arlene.

I extended my hand to Gram. “It’s time to dance.”

“Well, if you insist.” She smiled at Arlene. “I guess my date’s here.”

I placed her hand in Steve’s. “Yes, he is.”

“Oh, a man.” Gram beamed. “Even better!”

Steve’s grin didn’t reach his eyes. He turned to lead Gram to the dance floor and whispered in my ear, “Don’t think we’re done.”

I certainly wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

Chapter Fourteen

I took Gram’s seat, next to Arlene. I had questions about the senior center and knew that she’d have some answers.

Arlene patted my knee. “You made a good looking couple out there.”

“We’re not really a couple. He was just …” Actually, I wasn’t sure what he was doing besides screwing with my head. “… helping me with the steps.” In his own inimitable way.

“Yes, he’s good.” Arlene arched her thin eyebrows. “Probably in more ways than one.”

We were heading down a path laced with innuendo landmines, and I needed to make a quick course correction before anything exploded onto the gossip circuit.

“So, I noticed Jake out there with Suzy,” I said to shift Arlene’s attention away from Steve and me. “He’s quite the cutie patootie and a good dancer, too.”

Arlene folded her hands in her lap and sniffed. “He’s all right. Most of the ladies here seem to like him.”

What the heck? I thought I’d picked a safe subject. Obviously not.

“He’s fairly new, isn’t he?” I asked, watching him change partners and take one of the Gray Ladies into his arms.

“Jake Divine has been with us since the first of the year. Ambitious type if you ask me. Ginny recommended him to Monica.”

“Who?”
Virginia Straitham?

“Monica Gerrity …”

The corners of Arlene’s lips turned down at the mention of Monica’s name—clearly not her favorite person.

“… you probably haven’t met her yet. I doubt she’s the Duke’s Cafe type. She’s from LA,” she said as if Monica had smuggled some smog from the Los Angeles basin in the moving van when she headed north. “Took over as director after Ginny.”

“Virginia Straitham used to be the director here?”

“Honey, doesn’t your granny tell you anything?”

Apparently not nearly enough. “I guess you’ll have to fill me in.”

“It was an interim position since Ginny was on the board of directors when Nancy got married and moved to Arizona. Lovely man. Divorced twice but an excellent dancer. I hope it works out for her.”

Whatever. Nancy’s dancing partner wasn’t the person I wanted to hear about.

“An interim position for how long?”

“Oh, five, six months,” Arlene said, waving to Jayne and Ernie as they passed us on the way to the punchbowl. “They’re so cute together. They’re dating, you know.”

“I’ve heard.” I leaned closer, willing Arlene to focus on one thing at a time so I could connect some dots. “So, Virginia took over this position last year sometime?”

“Around April, I think.”

Jesse Elwood’s death had been in April. Not that the two things were connected, but all roads today seemed to be leading me to the senior center.

I stared at Steve while he danced with my grandmother. Based on how he had been spending his Tuesday nights, he’d obviously reached a similar conclusion. “And you say that Virginia Straitham recommended Jake.”

Arlene tucked her arms under her breasts as she leaned back in her seat. “Some friend of her grandson’s, I think.”

Dancing with Sylvia, a smiling Jake passed in front of us.

“He seems friendly,” I said.

Personable eye candy—a perfect dancing partner, especially for the ladies like my granny, who hadn’t had a man in their arms for a number of years.

“Oh, he can be quite charming,” Arlene said, fixing him with her gaze as if she wanted to squish him like a bug.

We weren’t the only women in the room watching Jake. As Suzy walked the dance floor doing her drill instructor routine, her light blue eyes periodically tracked him the way I’d seen Little Dog fixate on Marietta. Only without the drool.

“Suzy and Jake, are they …”

“I actually didn’t think Suzy swung that way, if you know what I mean,” Arlene said, lowering her voice.

If she didn’t, Suzy Harte had been doing a good imitation of a woman who wanted to do a horizontal tango with the best dancer on the floor.

“Never have known her to date,” Arlene continued. “Cute enough girl.”

“Remember, ladies,” Suzy shouted as she moved between the couples. “Cross and flex, and back with the right foot. Bend your knees.”

“Nice figure, too. With that stretching class she teaches, I bet she’s plenty bendy.” Arlene nudged me with her shoulder. “Can you imagine her in bed?”

Nope. Not an image I wanted in my head, especially when I was already reeling with mental whiplash.

I needed a diversion and pronto, so I pointed at the gray-haired arrival at the door. “Did someone just come in?”

Arlene sprang up from her seat. “Thanks, hon. Don’t want to shirk my welcoming responsibilities.”

While Arlene raced to the door, I made my way to the punchbowl. Ordinarily, a concoction of cheap fruit juice concentrate and soda pop wasn’t my beverage of choice, but since Nell Neary was serving, a little punch-laced conversation could be mighty tasty. And after the last five minutes with Arlene, I needed a drink.

Nell brightened as I approached. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. Not too many people our age come to the center.”

She’d just aged me a few years, but her point was well-taken. Since we were two of a handful of non-seniors here tonight and I hadn’t seen her on the dance floor, I wondered what the attraction was for her.

She handed me a paper cup of punch that looked like Cherry Bliss diluted with ginger ale. “They think coming to the senior center is uncool.”

“Maybe nights like Tango Tuesday will help draw more of a crowd.” Jake the stud muffin probably didn’t hurt, either.

Nell nodded. “I saw you dancing with Steve Sixkiller. You looked like you were having fun.”

That’s not exactly what I would have called it.

She lowered her amber-eyed gaze, a hint of a blush tinting her cheeks. “So, are you two …”

“We’re just friends.”

“Oh. I just thought with the way he was looking at you …”

I almost choked on my punch. “That’s part of the dance—the
game of seduction
thing.” And he seemed to be a very skilled player. “You know how it is when you’ve been out there dancing with Thomas.”

She shook her head. “Oh, no. I never dance while I’m on duty.”

“Ever?” It wasn’t like she was the punchbowl watch commander.

Nell’s lips curled slightly. “My mom loved to dance when I was little.” She blew out a breath as she gazed into the punchbowl. The memories she saw there were obviously strong, bittersweet. “Then she got sick and became confined to a wheelchair. But a couple of years ago, when they started having dance lessons at the center, I thought she’d have fun watching.”

“I’m sure she did,” I said softly, lapping up every ounce of information Nell was serving me.

“I didn’t want her to feel like I was hovering over her, so I stayed over here and took charge of the refreshments. Close enough to be there if she needed me. Far enough away for her to be with her friends.” Nell shrugged. “The punchbowl thing sort of stuck. But really, if it hadn’t, I never would have met Thomas.”

I hadn’t seen her boyfriend tonight. “Is he here?”

“His mom hasn’t been feeling well, so he’s home taking care of her. You know how that goes.”

Actually, I didn’t. If my mother needed home care, she’d hire a hunky male nurse to tend to her every need.

Nell’s eyes widened. “Oh, I guess I lied to you yesterday when I told you how Thomas and I met.”

“Really.” Obviously unintentionally since nothing had registered on my radar.

“He confessed something last night.”

I doubted this confession had anything to do with her mother’s death, but Nell had my complete attention nonetheless.

“Turns out he’d wanted to talk to me for weeks but couldn’t figure out what to say.” She smiled sweetly. “He’s a little shy.”

Nell was more than a little shy, so this probably made them a very good match.

“So, Ginny told him to just walk up and compliment me on the punch.”

Virginia Straitham was giving him pointers on how to break the ice? She helped get this shy couple together?

Virginia Straitham was the matchmaker.

“Isn’t that cute?”

Cute? Not if Warren Straitham was killing his patients so his wife could fix them up on dates!

I nodded like a bobblehead doll.

Keep breathing.

Nell giggled. “I even gave him my secret recipe, like he cared, when he was actually trying to work up the nerve to ask me for a date. Pretty sweet, huh?”

Sweet like rat poison.

“Are you okay?” I heard Nell ask over the clamor of alarm bells going off in my head.

No, I wasn’t okay, and neither would she be once she’d learned that Dr. Straitham had killed her mother.

I sucked in a deep breath. “I’m … fine.”

“You look a little pale. Let me get you some more punch.”

Watching Gram approaching arm in arm with Steve, I locked gazes with him as Nell refilled my cup.

What?
he mouthed, his eyes dark with awareness.

“I figured we’d find you over here.” Gram frowned as she closed the distance between us. “Honey, you’re as white as a sheet! Are you sick?”

She took my cup from me and pressed the back of her hand to my forehead. “You don’t feel feverish.”

Probably because I wasn’t. “Maybe I need some air.”

Gram turned to Steve. “Would you mind helping—”

“Let’s go.” He took my hand and pulled me toward the door while the lilting strains of the next song blasted through the speakers.

I tried to keep up with his long strides as we crossed the length of the floor. “You are
not
going to believe what I just found out!”

The pressure increased on my hand like he’d slapped a warning label on it. “Use your inside voice.”

“But—”

“Is something wrong?” Arlene asked as Steve shuttled me past her.

He pushed the glass door and me along with it. “Just getting a little fresh air.”

“Holy crap!” I shouted as soon as the door closed behind me.