A Tango Before Dying Page 9

  I wanted to ask if she was referring to something specific and recent. Rather than risk cornering her or doing anything that might cause her to retreat, I remained quiet as we watched the magic underway on the ballroom floor. When the orchestra played a reprise of the chorus, Carol and Carter invited others onto the dance floor with them. Katrina took that moment to confess.

  “I threw the ring at Kevin. It hit him and rolled down the stairs. I swear it didn’t hurt him, but maybe I upset Kevin enough that he stumbled and fell. If I’d known he’d fallen, I never would have left him there. I’m not exactly stuck on the old coot who’s a fickle-hearted fool. It wasn’t Madame Chantel’s fault either.”

  “What about the ring?” I asked.

  “I found it in his dressing room and tracked him down to confront him. By the time we got to the stairwell, he told me I could have it, that he’d offered it to Charlotte, and she refused it—sweetly, tenderly, according to Kevin. Even though I wouldn’t have accepted the offer either, that made me furious. I threw it at him, shoved past him, and bolted down the stairs.” I wanted to ask her a couple pointed questions that might help me determine how much truth there was to her story. Her tone was sincere enough, and the misery on her face seemed real.

  “Time to tango,” Jack said. “I’ve got news.” It took all the will power I had not to step onto the dance floor with him. I was dying to hear the news. A tango with Jack might also prove to be more than a little transformative for me, given the twists and turns this day had taken. Katrina was looking around as if she wanted to run for it.

  “I’d love to tango with you, but I believe Katrina’s in line ahead of me. She was about to ask you to dance, weren’t you, Katrina?” Jack appeared puzzled but offered her his hand as they stepped onto the dance floor.

  I wandered toward the food and drink tables hoping to find chocolate. When I’m stressed out, I crave it. I had no trouble finding plenty of it, but it took me a minute to regain enough control to pick just one treat—a double chocolate mini tart topped with gold spun sugar threads. With the first bite, I was engulfed in an endorphin rush. I’m well-aware that jogging can do the same thing for me, but chocolate doesn’t leave me all sweaty with achy joints. I’d just shoved the rest of that tart into my mouth when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

  “May I have this dance?” I should have realized before I turned around that it couldn’t possibly be Jack.

  9 Who Was that Masked Man?

  The man standing there with his hand out was dressed for the tango like so many other men at the gala. His approach went against tango etiquette which relies upon the cabeceo as the way in which to ask and accept a tango dance invitation. That’s all done by making eye contact that’s received by a nod for yes or a glance away for no. He wore a mask so much of his face was hidden.

  “Please say yes. I must have this dance.” When he spoke again, his voice was familiar. As I stepped forward, the music switched from a tango to a waltz. We swirled onto the crowded dance floor just as I recalled where I’d heard his voice before.

  “Brett, is it you?”

  “Yes.”

  “People are looking for you.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” His grip on my hand tightened, and I searched for Jack and Katrina. Perhaps they’d left the floor when the tango ended, and the waltz began.

  “Do you know why?”

  “I can make a pretty good guess. Madame Chantel is dead, and I’m on the hook for it.” He suddenly shifted direction, and I followed, hoping we wouldn’t collide with other dancers.

  Why had he made such a sudden shift? I wondered. Had he spotted Jack? I searched again looking for anyone I knew, hoping I might draw attention to us with a wave.

  “That’s not true unless you’re responsible for her death. I’m not sure how you even know about it since authorities haven’t released that information to the public.”

  “If even you suspect I could do such a thing, what hope do I have? I love the dance even more than I admire the dancer.” It didn’t escape me that he hadn’t answered my question.

  “Were you in her suite this afternoon?”

  “Yes. A friend from the restaurant delivered her card offering me a backstage pass. I was so grateful I went directly to the Dance Champion registrar upstairs and claimed it. On impulse, I dropped by to thank her.”

  “How did you know which suite she was in?”

  “Bettie Cummings, the woman at the registration desk, knows me. When I told her that I wanted to go to Madame Chantel’s room to thank her, she must have figured it was okay to give me her suite number. After all, she’d invited me to join her backstage this week.”

  “Okay, then what?”

  “When she invited me in, I said no at first. Then she insisted, asking that I tango with her because she wasn’t going to have time to practice with Kevin Whitley. How could I refuse her even if she was just being nice to a fan?”

  “Did you dance?”

  “Yes. It was wonderful even though the floor space was still a little small even after I rearranged the furniture. I’ll never forget it. She was quite complimentary about my dancing. I was over the moon, of course.” He pulled me closer, and as if buoyed by his memory of that event; we whirled around the ballroom floor at an almost dizzying pace. I did my best to keep up with him. “Everything was like a dream, then she received a phone call, and her mood changed. She thanked me, and promised we’d have another dance later in the week, during her practice sessions if I put that backstage pass to use.” My mind raced, wondering about the phone call she received. If Carol had Madame Chantel’s cellphone when Carter Whitley called her, where was it now? Detective Spencer must have asked for it and taken it into evidence. I hoped someone was already trying to get a warrant to review her records and discover who’d placed that call, unless Brett already knew.

  “Did you hear who she was speaking to on the phone?”

  “No,” he replied after pausing an instant to think about it.

  “What do you mean when you say her mood changed? Did she seem concerned or worried after she took that call?”

  “Not really, although she was suddenly ready for me to leave, so maybe she was expecting a visitor. I didn’t pay much attention since I was beside myself with happiness about my good fortune. To have danced with her was an occasion of a lifetime. To hear her compliments and to be offered the chance to dance with her again was beyond my wildest dreams. Why would anyone believe I’d hurt her? When I left, I was on cloud nine, and she was very much alive.” He sounded mystified, but there had been such a dreamlike quality in his voice, part of me pondered the possibility that he’d imagined the entire encounter. “My heart broke when I heard she was dead, and I realized that may have been her last tango.”

  “How do you know that? Who told you she was dead?”

  “That awful Bucco woman showed up at the restaurant a while ago looking for me. A friend called, to give me a heads up that she was ranting crazily about Madame Chantel being dead and she wasn’t going be blamed for killing her. I told my friend, Jane, that Natalie Bucco was quite mad. I’d seen the woman alive and well with my own eyes.” He paused and scanned the room again. “That’s when Jane said Natalie Bucco was blaming me because she’d seen me at the hotel. I came here, hoping to talk to Madame Chantel. When I heard she wasn’t going to dance tonight, I knew Natalie Bucco was right that she was dead. I also realized I was in big trouble.” The waltz ended, and the dancers around us glided off the floor. I saw Jack, standing with Max near the stage area. I waved.

  “You need to tell all of this to my husband, Jack. He’s already looking into her death and can help you,” I said tugging Brett toward him. Then another question popped into my head. “Did you actually show up at Madame Chantel’s suite still wearing your Versailles Fox makeup?” In the glow of the ballroom lighting, I saw him tug at his mustache, barely visible below the mask he wore.

  “Of course not,” he replied. Then he gasped. “
Is that Max Marley standing next to your husband?”

  “Yes.” He let go of my hand and retreated a step or two. “Please don’t worry. I won’t use your name, and I’ll explain that you want to speak to Jack, not to Max. Besides, even if Max recognizes you in that mask, he regards you as a hero after the action you took to protect him and Madame Chantel from Natalie Bucco.”

  “Not anymore. Security took Natalie Bucco away. I’m sure she told them I did it, and they’re after me now.” Just then, the lights went out. It was pitch black until Katrina appeared in a spotlight on stage. She spoke as the orchestra began to play a familiar waltz tune.

  “I promised you surprises. The stars from the Lonely Swan Prince are here to reprise their roles from the wedding scene in that blockbuster film. We hope you enjoy their lovely rendition of I Hear A Waltz. The lights went out again. When they came back on, the duo dressed in stunning costumes, stood in a pool of light near the stage, ringed by a chorus of singers and dancers. Brett had disappeared, and I scurried toward Jack. Max was speaking to Katrina who had made her way down the steps from the stage.

  “Who was that masked man?” Jack asked as I rushed into his arms.

  “Brett Henson, our elusive fox. I almost had him convinced to be your next dance partner with a confession to make.” Before I could explain further, Jack flew into action. He motioned to a Security Associate who bustled toward us. He spoke to the guy who was on a walkie-talkie in seconds.

  “Maybe we can grab him before he leaves the building. I told them to stop any man wearing a mask or with a mustache. Did he confess that he was here at the hotel around the time Madame Chantel was killed?”

  “I’m not exactly sure about the time, but he was here this afternoon. Did you already get that information from Natalie Bucco?” Jack nodded. My voice had cracked as I asked him that question. Not because I was upset, but because my throat was sore from trying to speak over the music while still being discrete. “Can we go someplace quiet and I’ll fill you in on Brett’s version of events?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” Jack steered me into the area backstage. Once the doors had closed behind us, the din of music and chatter dimmed. The lights were brighter, making me squint. The main room, a lounge area filled with comfortable seats and low tables, was unoccupied.

  “I was hoping Carol might be here. Have you seen her since she and Carter left the dance floor?”

  “Yes, only briefly. She was looking for you a few minutes ago. So was I.” Jack poured me a glass of water from a frosty pitcher with fresh lemon slices floating in the water. “This ought to help your scratchy throat.”

  “Those will help, too,” I said making a beeline for a plate of chocolate truffles. Heck, it had been a long ten or fifteen minutes since I had my last fix. I slumped down in a comfy chair as I bit into chocolate caramel bliss.

  “So where is she?” I asked.

  “Carol left a message thanking you and me for all we’re doing to figure out what happened to her godmother. Then she went home.”

  “You let her do that? I wanted her to stay with us. She’s in no shape to drive…” Jack leaned in and kissed me, cutting me off midsentence.

  “Would I do that? Carter Whitley offered to drive her home, let her pack a bag, and then drop her at our house. I called the guard gate with instructions to let her in, and I gave her a house key. She’s probably already at our place with Miles bellowing and Ella doing that head-bonking thing she loves to do.”

  “I’m sorry I doubted you. That all sounds perfect.”

  “Spill it,” Jack said. I did my best to tell Jack everything I’d learned from Brett. He interrupted a couple of times with questions. When I’d finished, I had a question for him.

  “The police have Natalie in custody, right?”

  “Yes. She’s not all there, is she, to have returned to the scene of the crime after barely managing to get away?”

  “I agree. It’s hard to believe anything she has to say.” It was also hard to conceive of anything she wouldn’t do—including murder—given her disturbing behavior.

  “Given Brett Henson’s confession to you, she was spot on when she told his coworkers she’d seen him at the hotel. Not long before Charlotte was killed, either, given the timing of her reappearance at Versailles Veranda. When I left you on your own with Katrina, it’s because I’d received a call from Gary that she’d caused another scene there, and security had detained her. They reported the incident to the police who arrested her for disorderly conduct and trespass since she didn’t leave after a server told her to go. They’re holding her in the County Jail. Detective Spencer isn’t going to interview her tonight, but they’re not going to release her until tomorrow. Her lawyer is on his way from Santa Barbara. Good luck getting her out on bail given the way she eluded authorities today. She’s a flight risk if the authorities charge her for assault. Even though Max isn’t pressing charges, they may.”

  “Not to mention the woman she assaulted turned up dead a few hours later. LAPD must consider her a suspect in Charlotte’s murder.”

  “A person of interest at the very least, Georgie. She hasn’t been forthcoming about where she was when she saw Brett Henson.”

  “If she saw him at the hotel, that means she was there too.” Her screwy behavior made me dizzy, or maybe exhaustion had caught up with me. “You know what? I’m done. Call Detective Spencer and tell her about the fox. I’ll tell Max we’re going home to care for Carol. After the heroic job she did rescuing this fundraiser, he ought to insist we do that. If Katrina and Kathleen are around, I’ll give them a high-five for hanging tough as all their planning fell apart. Then we’re out of here.”

  “I’m with you. Why should Carol have that bellowing and head-bonking all to herself?” He jumped up and then pulled me to my feet. I leaned in and got a welcome embrace.

  “This is another fine mess I’ve gotten you into, isn’t it? Here you are playing double duty as a detective again.”

  “Don’t worry. Julie Spencer is a capable detective. I don’t expect we’ll have much more to do with any of this after tonight.” Jack reached for the door handle and paused before he yanked the door open. “She doesn’t have an alibi either, by the way.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “Katrina. She was clear as a bell about when and where she was when it came to Kevin’s accident. When I asked where she was earlier or if she’d seen Charlotte after lunch at Versailles Veranda, she hemmed and hawed. She’s hiding something, but I’m not sure what.”

  “Hmm, that’s interesting. When I asked her where she was when she saw Natalie launch her attack, she told me she was inside the restaurant, but there was something off about her affect. If she was going for nonchalant, she didn’t cut it. Maybe this has something to do with a man.”

  “What man?” Jack asked.

  “There you are! I’ve been searching for you everywhere. Kathleen said she saw you dancing with a strange man, Georgie. When no one knew where Jack had gone, I was afraid you were in trouble, and he’d left to rescue you.” Max threw his arms around me. “Now that I’ve found you, come with me, quickly.”

  “Maybe, someone has caught up with the elusive masked man,” I muttered to Jack who took a quick glance at his phone.

  “I doubt it.”

  10 Two for One

  “What is it, now? Jack and I need to go home. Carol’s staying with us for a few days so she’ll have support while she deals with her godmother’s death. What good will that do if she’s home alone?”

  “I’m quite certain Jack will want to see this.” Max darted ahead of us toward a small group huddled near the stage. Kathleen and Katrina were there with a Security Associate.

  “Here’s Detective Wheeler,” Max said. “He’ll know what to do.”

  “Do about what?” Jack and I asked almost in tandem.

  “Maybe it would be easier if you just follow me, okay?”

  “It’s a needle,” Kathleen said, speaking almost directly
into my ear. “I know I’m supposed to stay out of it, but when I heard a guest had reported finding a hypodermic needle in a waste bin on this floor, I told Max we should get Jack.” Max must have told Jack much the same thing, because my husband was on the move.

  “Thanks, Kathleen, you did the right thing,” I said, giving her arm a squeeze as I took off after Jack. He was already halfway to the double doors leading from the ballroom. My heart did a little tap dance when I let those doors shut behind me and I’d reached the open lobby area outside the ballroom. Another Security Associate was hovering over a stainless-steel trash bin, not more than a couple of feet from the stairwell where Kevin had fallen.

  Jack took one look and made a call. He must have reached Detective Spencer because he mumbled something about “sorry to call you out here again.” As he explained what was going on, he peered into that can, lined with plastic. Then he bent down to examine the contents more closely.

  “You’re going to want to send someone from forensics.” He paused before going on. “I know, I know, but this will be worth paying overtime. There’s a chance it could get you two weapons for the price of one.” There was no more discussion after that, and Jack hung up.

  “Sorry, Georgie, but we’re stuck here for a while longer. Julie’s on her way with help.”

  “She’d better step on it because this gala will be officially over soon. Cars are going to stream out of here, and traffic’s going to be a mess.” I sighed, hoping we’d make our getaway before having to fight our way out of here. “I’m going to call Carol and make sure she’s comfy.” Her cellphone rang a couple of times before I heard a sleepy voice say hello.

  “Carol, did I wake you up?”

  “Yes. The cats knocked me out.”