Dancing with Murder Page 3

  "They're treating me fine." No need to go into detail. Better to get this call over with so I could try to get some sleep. Better to get to the point.

  Luke was on the same wavelength. After a moment's pause, he asked the question I knew had been foremost in his mind. "So, uh...can you get it? The money?"

  I closed my eyes. Money was my ulterior motive for being there; it was the reason I'd planned to come home even before Polish Lou had died. Without more of it, the dance club Luke and I owned, called Beat Down, would go under fast.

  Unless, of course, Polish Peg and I worked together for one week, and I talked her into liquidating Dad's polka empire. But I wasn't ready to talk about that with Luke just yet.

  It seemed like a long shot, and I didn't want to get his hopes up. I also didn't want him pressuring me to go through with it. The last thing I needed right now was a constant stream of phone calls demanding status reports.

  So I decided not to get too specific. "I've got nothing to tell you. Today was just the funeral, you know."

  Luke sighed. I could practically see the worried grimace crawling onto his face. "Do you think you might find out tomorrow?"

  "No idea, Luke." I couldn't keep the irritation out of my voice. "I kind of have to go with the flow here, you know?"

  "Sorry." I pictured him leaning on the desk in the back room of Beat Down, clawing at his blond hair the way he did when he was agitated. "It's just...we're running out of time here."

  I was all too aware that the clock was ticking. The only thing I could do about it was work with Polish Peg. And the truth was, I didn't know if I could stand to do that.

  So again, I skipped the details. "You'll know as soon as I do, okay? I promise."

  Just then, an unexpected sound caught my attention...coming from the door, not the phone. Frowning, I stepped toward it, lowering the phone from my ear.

  It sounded like faint scratching against the wood of the door.

  Meanwhile, Luke kept talking. "I'll check in tomorrow then. I'll call in the afternoon and see how you're doing."

  Walking to the door, I leaned down and peered out through the spy hole. I couldn't see anyone on the other side of the door. Anyone human, that is.

  "Lottie? Are you still there?"

  I put the phone to my ear as I undid the security chain on the door. "I'm here." Then, I turned the doorknob till the center button of the lock mechanism popped toward me. "But I've got to go. I'm exhausted."

  "I can imagine." Luke sounded sincerely concerned. "Well, you get some sleep, and you'll feel better in the morning."

  "I hope so." I kept turning the doorknob, and the latch slid free of the frame. "Good night, Luke."

  "'Night, baby. I love you."

  "Love you, too." With that, I pressed the button on the phone to end the call. I threw the phone across the room, and it landed on the foot of the bed.

  Then, I slowly pulled the door open.

  The scratching stopped. Looking down, I saw a shape, low to the ground and white as snow. It scooted back out of the way before I could get a good look at it.

  It was some kind of animal, I guessed, which was probably all I needed to know...but curiosity got the better of me. I eased the door open another crack, staring wide-eyed into the dim light from the bulb outside my door. But the animal seemed to be gone; I must've scared it away.

  Pushing the door wider, I tried for one last look. Just then, a streak of white zipped out of the shadows and through the doorway into my room.

  Heart hammering, I gasped and leaped back. Finally, I got a clear look at the thing as it streaked across the carpet and under my bed.

  A cat. It was a white cat, and now it was in my room.

  The question now was how to get it out again. Though I'm not a cat hater, I've never been a cat person, either. I had no idea how to handle this refugee under my bed.

  Leaving the door cracked just enough for the cat to get out, I walked over to the bed. "Hey, kitty." I patted the mattress, hoping the sound might be enough to alarm the cat. "Come on out of there, kitty."

  I heard no movement under the bed, so I patted harder. Still nothing. "You've got to go, kitty. Go back home now."

  Looking around the room, I wondered what to do next. Call the night clerk at the front desk? Call Animal Control? I doubted they were on duty at this time of night.

  Maybe I could use something to push the cat out. If only I had a broom or a mop. Was there anything else long enough to reach under the bed?

  A light bulb of inspiration went on over my head, and I marched to the closet. Yanking open the door, I reached for the full-length ironing board hanging from a peg inside.

  Determined to get the cat out, I marched back to the bed...but just as I crouched and prepared to slide the board under the foot of the bed, I saw the cat walk around from the far side.

  He stopped about three feet away and stared at me, tail flicking. His bright green eyes looked like sparkling emeralds in the snow white fur of his perfect little face.

  He looked like he was in great shape for a stray, if he was one. His clean white fur had a healthy gloss and was closely trimmed, free of burrs and tangles. I saw no nicks or scratches, none of the wounds a cat could pick up in the wild.

  Plus, he wore a collar. It was red and studded with glittering rhinestones. From where I crouched, I couldn't read the fine print engraved on the tiny gold nameplate.

  So he was either a brand-new stray or a local housecat out for his nightly prowl. Either way, he didn't worry me as much as if he'd been a mangy feral cat seething with disease.

  "Okay then." I let go of the ironing board and held out my hand. "Let's see what your name is, kitty."

  Head bowed, the cat slinked forward two steps...then suddenly backed up three. He lifted his head, eyes locked with mine, and let out a long meeeow.

  "Sorry, but I don't speak cat." I leaned forward and reached out again. "If I could just take a look at that collar of yours..."

  The cat meowed again and licked his lips.

  "Is that what you want? Food?" Leaning my elbow on the bed, I looked at the mini-fridge. Nothing to eat in there; I hadn't had time to stock it. "Well, I got nothin'. Wasn't expecting company tonight, you know."

  Again, the cat meowed and licked his lips.

  "I'll be sure to pick something up at the market tomorrow. Now how about a quick look at that collar?" Lunging forward, I made a grab for the animal.

  Who of course was much too fast for me. My fingers didn't even brush his fur as he turned tail and sprinted out the door.

  I got to my feet and followed. But by the time I got to the door, he was gone. I stood on the sidewalk in front of my room and looked in all directions, but there was no trace of him. The white, mysterious cat had disappeared in the night like a...

  "Ghost. That's what I'll call you." I padded down the walk in my stocking feet and looked around the corner of the building...but there was no sign of him. "My own little Ghost, popped in for a visit."

  I walked back to my room then, went in, and shut the door. I lay back down on the bed and stretched out on the spread.

  "I wonder who that little guy was," I said. Talking to myself was another habit of mine, though not as troublesome as smoking or nail-chewing. "Just out looking for a saucer of milk, I guess."

  As I thought about the white cat with the emerald eyes, I yawned. I rolled over and curled up, and then my eyes drifted shut.

  "Goodnight, Ghost," I said softly. "Sweet dreams of sweet cream."

  And then, finally, without another word, I fell asleep.

  *****

  Chapter 7

  Next morning, I woke from a deep sleep to the sound of pounding on the door. Boom boom boom boom. Then shouting.

  "Hey, Lottie!" A man's voice, familiar. "Rise and shine!"

  I tried to block it out. I needed the sleep so badly, and I wasn't anywhere near ready to get up yet.

  But the ruckus wouldn't stop. "Wake up, Lottie!" Boom boom boom boom.
"You're sleeping the day away!"

  Angrily, I rolled over and checked the blinking red digital clock on the nightstand. At which point I got even angrier, because it was only 6:30 in the morning.

  "Go away!" Rolling back over, I pulled a pillow over my head to block the noise.

  "No can do," said the man at the door. "I'm under strict orders!" Boom boom boom boom boom.

  I stayed in bed another minute, and the pounding continued. Finally, I threw aside the pillow and jerked to a sitting position.

  I sat there a moment, wobbling in place, barely awake. My head felt like it was stuffed with wool, the gears of my brain unable to turn.

  "Come on, Lottie," said the man at the door. "We've got things to do, places to be, people to see."

  Only then did I realize it was Eddie Kubiak Jr. My old boyfriend was pounding on the door of my room, waking me from a much-needed sleep at six-thirty in the freaking morning.

  "Yep," I said to myself. "It's a nightmare, all right."

  Boom boom boom. "Open up, Lottie!"

  Sliding off the bed, I stood and looked in the mirror above the dresser. The word "Sasquatch" came to mind.

  My dress was wrinkled beyond belief and twisted so the neckline pointed left instead of down the middle. The coil of hair once wrapped around my head had come halfway undone; strands hung over my face and stuck out in every direction. Mascara, rouge, and eye shadow were smeared all over my face as it were an artist's sloppy palette blobbed with multiple colors of paint. My eyes had bags under them the size of dim sum dumplings.

  Nowhere in the world would I have been considered remotely presentable. I had no intention of setting foot outside that door in full view of Eddie Kubiak, Jr.

  "Lottie! Lot!" Boom boom boom boom. He was relentless.

  But I wasn't the only one he was ticking off. "Hey! Shut the hell up over there!" The voice through the paper-thin wall was that of a guy who was seriously irate.

  "Open up, Lot!" said Eddie. "It's time for work!"

  "How 'bout I come out there and work you over?" The guy in the room next door bellowed the words this time. "I guarantee that'll shut you up!"

  It seemed like Eddie finally got the message, because he stopped pounding. When he spoke again, his voice was nowhere near as loud. "Lot?"

  To end the commotion, I walked to the door and cracked it without unhooking the safety chain. "What are you talking about, it's time for work?" I peered out from the shadows into painfully bright sunlight that made me squint. "For one thing, it's Sunday. For another thing, I'm not working in this town."

  "Sure you are." Eddie had a goofy grin on his thin, oval face. The thin line of his meticulously trimmed sideburns-mustache-goatee combo--let's call it his sidemusgoat--curled up with the grin, revealing dimples and rows of gleaming white teeth. "Don't you remember the wake yesterday? Sure sounded to me like you got hired."

  The events of the day before rushed back and slammed into me like a brick wall on wheels. "You mean Peg and me? That whole thing?"

  "Congratulations on your new job." Eddie extended a hand but didn't slide it between the door and the jamb. Smart man. "But being late is no way to get off on the right foot."

  I almost slammed the door in his face. No kidding. But I was afraid he'd keep after me and set off the guy next door. "I'm not late for anything, Eddie."

  "Peg starts the day at 6AM." Eddie nodded briskly. I was having a hard time telling if he was trying on purpose to irritate me. "She's been waiting for you for a half hour now."

  "Okay." I planted my hands on my hips and glared out at him. "You need to go away right now. Because you won't like what happens if I come out and you're still there."

  "So you don't want your share of your dad's business?" Eddie cocked his head to one side. It was then I realized he was enjoying this to some extent. "You'll let those Polish orphans have everything?"

  I blew out my breath in frustration. I wasn't a morning person to begin with, and that morning I was feeling especially out of it. My first instinct was to light up a cigarette and get my bearings...but since that wasn't an option, I needed strong coffee before I could deal with Eddie's nonsense. "Go away, Eddie."

  "Can't do that." Eddie shook his head. "If I go back without you, I'll get my butt chewed."

  Suddenly, some of the things he'd been saying penetrated my bleary brain. "Wait. Are you working for her?"

  "I work for Polish Lou Enterprises," said Eddie. "So technically, I'm now working for Peg and you. If you don't bail out and force the attorneys to send the money to the orphanages, that is."

  I frowned as I tried to wrap my brain around what he'd said. "Do you mean to tell me you're working for my dad's company?" I cracked the door a little wider to get a better look at him. "How did that happen? Your dad is my dad's biggest rival."

  Eddie shrugged. "I came back to town, Lot. I needed a job, and Lou offered me one."

  Came back? "You left town?" I'd assumed he'd been here since I'd been away. Eddie Jr. had always been kind of a hometown boy.

  "Well, sure, Lot." Eddie's expression darkened. "But things didn't work out the way I'd thought they would."

  For the first time in forever, I actually found myself identifying with Eddie Kubiak, Jr. I knew exactly how it was when things didn't work out as expected. "How long have you been back?"

  "Eight months." Eddie smiled, but I thought it looked forced. "Your dad really helped me out. He made it so I didn't have to go crawling back to my old man."

  I frowned. I'd always thought Eddie Jr. had gotten along fine with Eddie Sr.

  "But now it's back to square one, kinda." Eddie scratched the back of his head and looked sheepish. "I'm not sure if the new bosses will keep me on. Don't know how it'll work out with you and Peg."

  As irritated as I'd been when he'd woken me up, I found myself feeling sympathetic. "I don't think you have anything to worry about." I even managed a reassuring smile.

  "I, uh..." Eddie scuffed his feet on the sidewalk. "It's not you I'm most worried about, Lot."

  "Ohhh." I nodded. Things were starting to come together. "But you've been working with Peg for eight months now, right? You ought to know her pretty well by now."

  Eddie cleared his throat. "Exactly." He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows in a look that spoke volumes.

  And made my heart sink like an anchor. "Not really a ringing endorsement of Polish Peg there, Eddie."

  "Let's just say I have...concerns." Eddie sniffed. "Concerns about working for her instead of with her."

  "You're not exactly talking me into this." I brushed back stray tangles of hair that had fallen into my eyes. "You know I haven't made up my mind yet, right?"

  "Actually, that's why I'm here," said Eddie. "To try to talk you into it." He shrugged and came up with a boyish grin. "I lied about being under orders."

  I planted my fists on my hips and glared. "So Peg didn't put you up to this? She didn't send you over here after all?"

  Eddie shook his head. "I need an ally, Lot." He met my gaze. "I need this job."

  I held his gaze a moment, and memories of our times together rushed through me. I remembered one day in particular when we went tubing on the Vista River, and I flipped over in the strong current, and he pulled me out. I remembered kissing him gratefully, our lips wet with river water, his brown eyes sparkling in the sun.

  It seemed like it had happened only yesterday...and yet, so very long ago. Whatever had happened since, it had changed him, added layers I couldn't quite piece together. But he was still the same guy, deep down, I'd once loved. That counted for something in my book.

  In his book, too. I'd bet on it. If our positions were reversed, I knew exactly what he'd say about all this.

  "I'll do it." As the words left my lips, I knew I was doing the right thing. I had my doubts about how it would work out, but I owed it to Eddie to give it a try. Owed it to my family, too, and Luke. I couldn't let Dad's legacy slip away when it meant so much to so many people.

&nbs
p; "Really?" Eddie looked at me expectantly, and I nodded. "So we can get going?"

  I shook my head. "Come back in an hour. Make it an hour and a half. I need to get ready."

  Eddie grinned and waved off my demand. "Ah, I'm sure you look great, Lot."

  "An hour and a half or I'm out." I started easing the door shut. "Take it or leave it, Eddie."

  "All right, all right." Eddie raised his hands in surrender. "Just remember I warned you. Peg likes to get an early start. The later you show up, the more she gets a leg up on you."

  "She's been with my father's company for the past thirteen years," I said. "I don't think she could get a bigger leg up on me."

  And with that, I shut the door on Eddie and headed straight for the coffee pot on the kitchenette counter.

  *****

  Chapter 8

  An hour and forty-five minutes later, Eddie and I pulled up to the curb in front of what had once been Saint Casimir Church's activities hall. It was "Polka Central" now, according to the brightly colored sign mounted above the front door.

  To me, that translated as "Pure Hell." Have I mentioned I can't stand polka?

  "Here we are." Eddie gestured at the blocky old red brick building. Morning sunlight glinted off the stained glass rose window set under the front peak of the roof. "Welcome to the offices of Polish Lou Enterprises. Also the studios of the Kocham Taniec radio show. A live broadcast is in progress as we speak." With that, he turned off the engine of his '95 silver Ford pickup. When the engine noise cut off, the sound of music swelled to replace it.

  And I instantly wanted to be elsewhere. I'd had enough polka music at Dad's wake the day before to last me another fifteen years...but there it was again.

  The sounds of a fast-paced polka number blared from the open double doors on the front of the building. Inside, I could see people spinning and dancing across the floor in time with the music.

  "Take me back to the motel." I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. "I feel a headache coming on. A nasty one."