скачать книгу бесплатно
“I don’t really have to go,” Kim said, bewildered.
“But you don’t want to have to go during the dancing, right?” Beth asked. She didn’t know why; she just wanted the girls together, no matter what, and with Ashley or Jake at all times.
She didn’t understand, either, why she was nervous all the way to the ladies’ room and back. The place was swarming with people, guests, members, staff, everyone having a good time. Ashley was as casual as could be, making the girls laugh. Beth thanked God for her friend—and for the fact that her friend was a cop and married to a cop.
Back at the table, she sipped champagne, realizing that throughout the day she had become more tightly wound with each passing moment. She had to calm down or she would wind up jumping out of her chair and screaming.
Dessert was served, and as the flaming soufflés went around, Commodore Berry rose again, announcing their entertainment.
Mauricio escorted Maria to the dance floor out on the patio, open to the dining room and surrounded by additional tables.
The music began.
For several minutes Beth found herself as transfixed as the others. As she had felt earlier, it seemed impossible that anyone could move so fast, that steps could be so sensual and erotic, that anything could appear as miraculously, glitteringly swift and elegant, all in one.
Then the music broke, and Mauricio and Maria stopped dead, dramatically posed. The old cliché was true, Beth thought. She really could have heard a pin drop.
Then the moment was over. The music began again, and the dancers swirled into motion once more until at last the performance came to a halt.
Everyone in the room rose; the applause was thunderous.
Beth blinked. Eduardo was walking forward to thank his dancers. He was carrying a cordless mike, and he announced that there would be lessons for the guests, then introduced the rest of his staff. He had been speaking for several minutes before Beth realized that he hadn’t come from the direction of his table, he hadn’t been seated during the performance.
Her heart thudded as she wondered if that meant anything.
She looked around. The big cop who was dressed like a waiter was standing by one of the serving stations.
He was still staring at the dance floor. Everyone had been staring at the dance floor. Had anyone seen Eduardo come and go?
“Miss Elizabeth Anderson.”
She started when she heard her name. She looked around, certain she must seem like a stunned child to the spectators.
“Come on.”
There was a roar of applause. Eduardo was looking at her, an arm outstretched toward her.
“Get up, Aunt Beth. Go!” Amber said.
“Go where? What?” Beth demanded.
“He wants to use you to show everyone how quickly they can learn,” Kim told her.
“What?” Beth said. “After that—after Maria, he wants me to get up there?”
“Go on, sis,” Ben said, staring at her. “You were the one with the idea to bring in Eduardo Shea, weren’t you?”
He had no idea how true that was, she thought. She was the one who had insisted on prying, on putting his child in danger. She knew that somewhere inside, her brother still loved her. But right now he wanted her to get up there and trip over her own feet.
She had no choice. She rose, forced a smile and walked toward Eduardo. She tried to remember everything she had learned in her brief workout during Maria’s practice session.
She met the man’s eyes. Tried not to betray the fact that she knew he might be conspiring with murderers. He stepped toward her. Her fingers curled around his in proper rhythm form. The band began to play.
She was no Maria Lopez. But Eduardo Shea was good. No matter what else he might be, he was a great dancer. With him leading, she was shocked at how quickly she fell into the rhythm and how she could turn at his command without missing a beat.
Mauricio’s voice rang out as he invited everyone to rise and join them. He walked to the dais and selected the commodore’s wife. Maria beckoned to the commodore. The other teachers went to different tables, inviting the guests to rise.
There were evidently, and perhaps naturally, many people in the room with some knowledge of salsa. Soon the floor was so crowded, it was almost impossible to move. Dancers began to spill out onto the lawn, in front of the docks.
Dinner was officially over, it seemed. But the party had just begun.
She was breathless when Eduardo stopped, bowing to her. “Thank you for being such a lovely volunteer! Regretfully, I must dance with others now,” he said.
“May I?” someone said behind her as Eduardo turned away.
She turned. Before she could protest, she found herself dancing with Hank Mason.
“Quite a party,” he told her.
“Thanks.”
“Are you doing all right?” he queried.
“Of course.”
“You look a little nervous,” he said. “I heard about the prank with the skull, of course. Did you really see a skull when we were on the island?” he asked her.
She shook her head, staring straight into his eyes. “Must have been a conch shell—that’s what Ben said.”
He smiled. “You still seem awfully jumpy.”
“I’ve got a lot riding on tonight, you know.” She looked nervously past his shoulder. Eduardo had led Amber out on the dance floor. “Excuse me, Hank.”
She extricated herself from his hold and hurried across the floor. She needn’t have worried. Jake had already cut in.
“Beth?” It was Roger Mason. “Do an old man proud, would you?”
Before she knew it, she was in his arms. He knew how to salsa, and once again she found herself moving at the speed of light. She tried to see where Amber was and frowned, unable to see Kim, her brother, Amber or Ashley.
The music suddenly changed, with the singer announcing that they were going to take it down to a rumba.
“Excuse me. If I may?”
Someone else was cutting in, neatly slipping her away from Roger.
Beth was startled to swirl into the arms of the whitehaired man she had seen sitting with Commodore Berry.
To her surprise, he knew how to rumba. She knew the basics and was able to move, but she was so concerned about Amber, she was thinking only about escape. “It’s all right. Kim’s parents are coming for her. The girls are out front. Ashley’s with them.”
She nearly gasped. She never would have recognized him, as well as she thought she had known him.
She nearly said his name out loud.
“Close your mouth, please. Relax. You can’t be that tense for a rumba.”
She stared at him, amazed. She wondered where he had learned to do such an incredible camouflage job with makeup. It was impossible to tell that the beard and mustache were false, that the hair was a wig. He was wearing green contacts, she realized. “Your own mother wouldn’t know you,” she told him.
“That is the idea.”
“Matt and Lee don’t even know you, do they?” she asked.
He was silent for a moment. “No.”
“Do you still think something’s going to happen?” she asked him.
He shrugged. “Shea got up and started to disappear when Maria and Mauricio were dancing. I followed him. He was getting a beer.” He shook his head, looking a little disgusted. “I hope to hell I wasn’t wrong. It will be hard to swing law enforcement around to my way of thinking a second time. They can be pretty unforgiving. Like someone else I know.”
She arched a brow. “Interesting. Let’s see, I have no idea what you’re really trying to do—ever. And I realize now that you’re as much a chameleon as any criminal out there. I thought I knew you, at least a little bit, but now I don’t know if anything I thought I knew is true.”
“Could you trust me for a little while? Please?”
She tilted her head, staring up at him. “I just don’t know how far you would go to achieve what you’re really seeking,” she told him. She became aware of a ringing as she spoke, then realized that it was her phone, clipped to her skirt.
“Excuse me, will you? I’m sure there are others you need to dance with tonight,” she said smoothly, and stepped away, quickly slipping through the crowd to reach a spot on the edge of the dance floor, a breath of air and enough semi-isolation to hear.
She glanced at the caller ID and quickly answered.
“Aunt Beth?”
“Amber, what is it? Where are you?”
She heard something that sounded like a sob.
“Aunt Beth, come quick. I need you!”
17
KEITH WATCHED HER GO, feeling an actual pain in his heart. Even after last night, she didn’t intend to forgive him.
Had he been an idiot? he wondered. He’d spent the day in various forms of disguise, joining in with the electricians, the wait staff and then the guests. He’d listened in on conversations between the Masons, the dancers, and even Matt and Lee. There had been nothing to hear. The only moment when something might have been amiss had been when Eduardo Shea had risen, and he’d followed the man, only to see him with one of the waiters, getting a beer.
He’d studied every guest. No sign of Brad or Sandy.
“Hey there, handsome!”
He turned to see an attractive older woman in a stunning blue gown that was complemented by the blue tint in her hair. “Spare me a dance?”
He was about to find a way to beg off when he saw that Matt Albright was on the floor with Amanda. He smiled at the woman.
“You must be from one of our sister clubs,” she said.
He introduced himself as Jim Smithson, friend of Commodore Berry. He whirled her on the floor, close to Matt and Amanda. She began to talk as they moved, complimenting the party.
She knew the steps; dancing was not a problem. She was very talkative, which was.
Still, he caught snatches of conversation.
“…and just disappeared,” Matt said.
“I had a lovely night. I told you, I really like boats,” Amanda replied.
“I saw that,” he heard Matt say.
“Don’t you, Mr. Smithson?”
He looked down into the eyes of his dance partner. He hadn’t the least idea what she had said.
“Yes,” he replied, wincing, praying she wouldn’t speak again.
“…the boat…but not me, I take it?” Matt said.
“I had an appointment,” Amanda said. “Forgive me?”
“What’s not to forgive?” Matt said a little harshly. “You took the tender and left.”
Amanda giggled. “Sorry about that. I needed to get back to the club. I was meeting—”
“I’m so glad, Mr. Smithson. I think you’ll find I have a lovely home,” the blue-haired lady said. He realized she was staring into his eyes, enraptured.
“Excuse me?” Keith asked his partner.
“And I’m glad that you feel the way I do about sex for our generation,” she said.
“What?”
Matt and Amanda had rumbaed away. “And since we agree that when a couple of our…maturity feel such an urge, there’s nothing wrong with acting on it…we can slip away right now,” she said.
“I’m afraid I can’t, ma’am. I have a commitment this evening. You’ll have to excuse me.”
Keith apologized, thanked her for the dance and left as quickly as he could. He wandered out to the edge of the patio. The music was loud, the lights brilliant. He saw one of the cops he’d been introduced to and nodded. The cop nodded in return, then accepted an empty glass from a gray-haired woman who was looking helplessly around for a place to put it down.
It appeared as if she was about to approach him. He turned, circling around, searching for Matt. At last he found him, standing out on the dock, staring out at the water.
He strode down to the dock to join him. “Evening,” Matt said, though he didn’t look as if he was eager for company.
Screw the disguise. “What the hell was that all about?” Keith demanded.
Matt stared at him. His eyes widened. He swore softly. “What was what about? And what the hell are you doing, looking like Colonel Sanders?”