Last But Not Leashed, page 10
Colin was a wonderful dancer, the kind of partner who makes you look better than you are. It helped that the DJ played a slow, old song about a Tennessee waltz. We glided and twirled as one, my skirt sparkling as it moved to the smooth country rhythm. It reminded me of waltzing in the living room with my Gramps, who insisted on giving his shy granddaughter home dancing lessons. He’d taught me all the traditional and silly party moves I’d needed.
“Having fun?” Colin whispered as he pulled me closer.
I leaned my head back for a moment, the steps flowing naturally, unbidden. “My Gramps taught me how to waltz,” I confided, as we drifted along. “It’s been so long since I danced.”
“Dancing is good for the soul.” With that he slowed a bit, his strong arm pressed flat against the small of my back. Our dance had a languid, dreamlike quality to it. He lowered me in a classic dip just as the song ended. Other nearby couples who had already stopped politely applauded. A silly burst of unexpected happiness glowed in my chest. Nothing existed but the…
“Kate?” Luke’s surprised, slightly annoyed voice brought me back to reality. Colin gently guided me up before twirling me one last time. He ignored Luke. Still holding my hand he said, “It was a pleasure to dance with you, Kate. Please thank your Gramps for me.”
Before I could introduce him to Luke, Colin lightly kissed the back of my hand and walked into the crowd.
My absentee boyfriend stared through the dancers. “Who was that?”
Before I could answer, Luke draped his arm over my shoulder. I blocked it by bending down to adjust my shoe strap.
“That’s Colin,” I said as I straightened back up. “He’s helping Judy with the party.”
“Hmmm.” Once again his eyes roved in Colin’s direction.
“Why don’t we get a drink?” I suggested. I’d noticed an informal bar set up near the entrance, so Luke followed me, saying hi to several friends as we moved along. I was dying for some water. My throat itched, unaccustomed to smoke.
Judy had told everyone to BYOB, and the long table was littered with a wild assortment of alcoholic and nonalcoholic beverages. At the far end, large stainless bowls held mounds of chips, popcorn, and other snacks. Sandwiched in between were plates holding cookies and sweets for those who developed the munchies.
“Shoot,” I said as I looked around. “Your wine is still in the back seat of the car.”
“Nope. That’s why I disappeared.” Luke reached toward the back of the bottles and pulled out a cold bottle of expensive pinot gris wine. “I bought it for you,” he said. “Happy almost New Year.”
This was a nice surprise. Too bad I didn’t feel like drinking it.
“May I pour you a glass? Plastic okay?”
“Absolutely.” The afterglow from my waltz with Colin slowly faded. Life returned to normal. Several clients busy pouring drinks acknowledged me with good wishes for the upcoming year. Before I forgot, I fished a bottle of water from a tub full of ice.
After Luke handed me my drink, he poured a half glass for himself. “This is only for our toast,” he said, reminding me of his designated driver status. Holding our glasses awkwardly in front of us, we attempted to find a place to sit down.
Another familiar face broke through the crowd and headed for the snack table. Elaine glanced about uncertainly while a woman companion chatted away.
“I’ll be right back.” I handed Luke my glass and made my way toward Sookie’s assistant.
Her face broke into a smile as she greeted me. With her brown hair bundled up in a high topknot, there was no evidence of any head wound.
“So good to see you,” I began. “I was worried about you. How are you feeling?”
The older woman beside her chimed in. “Elaine is a trouper. She insisted on coming here tonight, but the doctor said no alcohol.”
Elaine smiled sweetly and held up a bottle of water. “That’s okay. I’m not much of a drinker, anyway.”
I held up my own bottle of water and returned her smile. “You didn’t have to stay in the hospital, did you?” For someone with a head injury, she appeared to be doing well.
Again, the woman accompanying her spoke for Elaine. “Nope. Just a mild concussion and five stitches.”
“The nurse insisted on shaving the area around the cut. That’s why my hair is up, to cover the bald spot.” Elaine pointed to her head. “A bit of a nuisance, really.”
That’s an understatement, I thought. “May I ask if you remember what happened? After I helped you into the lobby, my friends ran outside to the parking lot, but they didn’t see anyone.”
Elaine appeared puzzled for a moment before answering. “The doctor thinks I slipped in the parking lot and hit my head on someone’s side mirror. A woman who was at the community center that night called the chief of police to report blood on her car.” She turned to her friend. “I knew I shouldn’t have worn those heels that night.”
My mind paged back to Glenn and Elaine arguing in the lobby, Glenn still in an overcoat and Elaine dressed in her suit and a pair of modest black heels.
“She’s not allowed to drive for another day either,” her friend added. “In fact, if you’ll excuse us, I think we’ll get something to snack on and then sit down.”
Elaine briefly held her hand to her forehead and added, “If I don’t see you again, Happy New Year.”
“Happy New Year,” I answered.
Elaine took her friend’s arm and melted into the crowd.
“Who was that?” Luke asked as we searched for a place to sit. Multiple tables were jammed into a corner of the room. We sat at an empty one that looked out onto the dance floor.
“A friend,” I told him. “I wanted to wish her a Happy New Year.”
“I poured just enough for myself for one toast.” Luke held up his plastic cup. “To a fantastic New Year.”
Not the kind of toast I expected, but I raised my glass to his and repeated it, “To a fantastic New Year.”
I took a long sip of the wine he’d brought. It tasted delicious. This drink officially put me over my self-imposed limit, but I wasn’t driving tonight. When I glanced toward my boyfriend, all I saw was his back. In spite of everything, my toe tapped to the music.
Luke took my hand and asked. “So, the person you were speaking with was—?”
“I thought you knew everyone in town,” I chided.
“Obviously not.” Mimicking Colin, he kissed my hand.
It didn’t feel the same.
Surprised and upset with that thought, I took another sip of wine. “That’s Elaine Armstet, Sookie Overmann’s assistant.” I watched him put that news into focus. “Sookie is the woman who was murdered.”
“Right. Then Elaine either fell down, or was pushed in the community center parking lot, ending up with a head wound. My sisters updated me on all the local gossip last night at dinner,” he admitted.
A glint of something drew my eye up to the rafter crosswalks. It looked like Judy handing streamers to a young man.
Luke continued. “My grandmother thinks Sookie’s husband is responsible.”
“That’s certainly a possibility,” I said, taking my hand away from his to smooth back my hair. “Problem is, Elaine has no memory of what happened.”
Luke cleared his throat before he answered, “That’s convenient.”
Absence can put a strain on a relationship. As Luke chatted away about his professors, fellow students, and obtuse points of law, I found my attention drifting. Most likely he felt the same when I shared a medical case with him. One of the first people I’d met in Oak Falls, Luke at that time was in an on-and-off relationship with his high school sweetheart. I’d rekindled an affair with an old college buddy. We became platonic friends. Luke got in the habit of dropping by my place with Chinese food after his classes. We bonded over egg rolls and murder. What started off as a friendship evolved into something more. But our dynamics changed once more when he moved away for law school.
There was a strong possibility our relationship had run its course.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” Luke said as he stood up. “Do you want me to see if there’s any more of our wine left?”
“Sure,” I replied automatically.
Most of the people around us were talking and laughing and seemed to be enjoying themselves. I knew Luke knew how to dance. He’d told me his girl cousins and sisters practiced their dancing with him. That didn’t mean he liked to dance.
When the song ended, I noticed Mari across the room, busily chatting away. They’d pushed two tables together and had ten or more people crowded around. After a moment the music started up again, and dancing partygoers flooded back into the space, obscuring my view. I glanced at my watch. Eleven fifteen. That’s past my normal bedtime. In a little less than an hour I’d wish all of us a wonderful New Year. Maybe my wish would come true.
Another slow love song floated in the air. I closed my eyes.
“Alone again?” Colin’s voice asked.
“Only for a moment,” I answered, keeping my eyes closed.
His warm breath whispered in my ear. “If you were here with me, we’d dance all night.”
When I opened my eyes, he was sitting next to me.
Once again, I found myself in Colin’s arms, dancing away. Had he been observing me from afar, moving in when Luke left? People watched as we glided smoothly around the dance floor. My dance partner let our synchronous movements speak for him. I felt like I’d been dropped into a romance novel, the handsome stranger flirting with the pale blond heroine.
Except I wasn’t a big believer in that kind of romance.
When I gazed at Colin, I couldn’t help but notice how much he enjoyed the attention of the crowd. Our circles became wider and wider, his turns and twirls more intricate. More and more partygoers stepped away, leaving the dance floor to us. I began to feel dizzy again, but his arms held me tight. After a final twirl, he firmly grasped my waist and began to lift me into the air.
Like in a movie.
But I wasn’t that girl.
I moved his hands from my waist, half expecting to fall to the floor. Instead, he caught me, and together we inched down to a graceful bow.
Luke glared at us from the sideline. Colin paid him no mind, simply said, “Thank you again, Kate.”
“What’s going on here?” my boyfriend asked, his face flushed and furious. “You’re making a spectacle of yourself. You’re with me, not him.”
“Well, you weren’t around, now, were you?” I hissed. Luke and I often argued, but never in public like this. We returned to our chairs and sat in silence, until he took a long breath and tapped his fingers on the tabletop.
“Look. We haven’t spent much time together lately. I’d hoped tonight would go much better than this.” The anger seeped away from him like air from a torn balloon. He turned away, but I saw the hurt look in his eyes.
“Luke,” I told him, “Colin saw me sitting alone and asked me to dance. That’s all. We’re at a party,” I reminded him. “People are here to have fun.”
Unasked questions about our relationship hovered in the air.
But none would be answered because Mari came over, dragging a familiar-looking teenaged boy with her. The tips of his hair glowed a shocking purple.
“Hi, Luke. Kate.” Her cheerful smile quickly changed to a wary look after she looked at Luke, then me. “This is Lucky. He’s been helping Judy tonight.” She turned to the boy, whose eyes stayed fixed on the floor. “He’s too shy to ask you, but he’d like to volunteer at the animal hospital one Saturday. Lucky here wants to be a veterinarian.”
This entire exchange couldn’t have happened at a worse time, but it wasn’t Mari’s fault—or the boy’s. “I’ve met Lucky,” I told her. “Let me speak to Cindy, and we’ll see what we can do,” I answered with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.
His eyes lifted, an eager smile brightening his face. “Thank you, Dr. Kate.”
The boy turned, thanked Mari, and excused himself.
“I hope you don’t mind,” my assistant said. “He came over to our table and was so worried about our pit bull patient. I told him you thought his wounds would heal up just fine.”
That made me think of the first time I’d seen this boy. He was leaving the Circle K and nearly ran into me. For unknown reasons he acted surprised and frightened to see me. His mom was a client. She’d mentioned her son went to the city and banged up his car.
Could this boy be the Good Samaritan who left Mr. Pitt by our dumpster?
Perhaps his New Jersey friends took him to an illegal dogfight. Did he take pictures with his phone? If animal-lover Lucky had rescued or stolen one of the promoter’s injured dogs, he might be in trouble.
A dangerous, unlucky pile of trouble.
Chapter Sixteen
As the evening continued, I spotted Glenn Overmann hanging out at the bar. Dressed as he was in expensive Ivy League clothes, with his hair freshly groomed, I saw for the first time what had attracted Sookie. A handsome, thin man I didn’t recognize stood by his side.
Several songs played and finished, but Luke didn’t ask me to dance. We joined Mari and Judy’s table, but after listening to us girls chattering away for fifteen minutes, my date became bored and excused himself.
“What’s going on with you two?” Mari asked in a low voice.
“It’s hard to pick up a relationship where you left off,” I answered. “We probably should have celebrated alone at his place.”
“So, Kate, I see you’ve met Colin.” Judy had a funny expression on her face. I wondered if she’d heard Mari’s whispered question. I know she’d seen Colin and me dancing.
My faithful friend immediately changed the subject. “What’s going to happen at midnight?”
Judy began to explain the night’s finale. “We’re going to turn the heaters off now, so nobody throws confetti onto the coils. I’ll make my announcement. Next the overhead lights go out and blue spotlights come on.” She pointed to the barn’s towering roof, its rafters bathed in shadows. “Unlike the ball at Times Square, our disco ball will be pulled up and should hit the middle rafter at midnight. That releases an explosion of confetti and streamers, which will rain down as you all scream ‘Happy New Year!’ At least that’s what’s supposed to happen. We’ll continue the party for another hour, then start throwing everyone out.”
“Got it,” Mari said, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a big yawn. “I hope I last until midnight.”
“See you next year.” Judy rose and stretched. “Gotta go. I’m part of the fire warden crew. We banned all sparklers, but you never know.”
“Happy New Year, Judy,” Mari and I cried out in unison. “Great party.”
After she left, I leaned over to Mari. “Can I hitch a ride home with you?”
“Trouble in lovebird land?” She yawned again. “Of course. I drive right past the animal hospital on my way home. But do you mind leaving soon after midnight?”
“Not at all.”
The music started up again, a popular Taylor Swift tune. I spotted Luke having an animated conversation with his golden blond cousin, Rainbow. In her right hand was a sparkly fairy wand, which she playfully tapped several times on his chest.
People were coupling up as the countdown came closer. No one really wanted to greet the New Year alone.
“I love this song, but I’m too pooped to get up,” Mari said, leaning back in her chair. “I should have taken a nap this afternoon.”
A pack of Mari’s friends joined us, eager to celebrate at the stroke of midnight.
My watch confirmed we had seven minutes to go. Luke must have noticed the time because he cut off his conversation with Rainbow and walked toward me. Once he sat down he leaned his head toward mine.
“Kate, I’m sorry…”
“It’s okay,” I interrupted him, not in the mood to discuss our relationship while both of us felt exhausted and grumpy. “I’m going to hitch a ride home with Mari. Let’s both get a good night’s sleep and talk tomorrow.”
I turned away so I wouldn’t see his face.
The music stopped. Judy’s voice took its place, followed by a screechy feedback noise and tap, tap, tap on the microphone. “Hi, everyone. Can you hear me?”
Most people nearby yelled, “Yes, Judy.”
“It’s almost time to ring out the old year and welcome a brand-new one. I’m glad we got to celebrate together here at the Hay Barn Gallery. Thanks to all my wonderful helpers who made tonight happen.” She blew a kiss to the audience. “Okay. We’re getting close.”
An eager silence came over the crowd.
“Now. Keep your eye on the disco ball.”
All the indoor lights blacked out. Three blue spotlights switched on, illuminating a basketball-sized ball composed of tiny, mirrored surfaces. It fragmented the light back into the crowd, flashes of blue, red, and silver pulled from the colors in the bystanders.
“Here we go,” Judy shouted. “Ten, nine, eight…” The ball began to rise. People joined in the counting. “Seven, six, five, four…”
I planned to give Luke a quick kiss, then arrange with Mari to leave.
“Three, two, one!” The disco ball reached the rafter, sparkling in the lavender-blue glow of all three spotlights.
“Happy New Year!” Judy shouted. The crowd went wild, screaming and kissing and screaming some more. Confetti, glitter, and streamers drifted down. The spotlights made crazy circles around the room, illuminating kissing faces and twisting bodies in momentary flashes of light. Horns blew. People jumped in the air, fingers stretched wide to catch the glittering confetti as it lazily floated away.
Luke and I stared at each other.
Then something large wrapped in streamers and glitter hurtled down and crashed headfirst into an empty table. Shatterproof glass crumpled onto the floor.
