Jane gave him a serious glare. Yeah, and I also have nasty old Mr. Clinton, ninety-eight, and decaying with each move we make. She looked at Shannon. I thought you werent going to take on any new students.
I wasnt. But you know how it goes.
Youre the manager, Jane reminded her. You dont have to keep him.
I know, but that forty-five-minute investment of time felt like ten hours. The guy is a challenge I dont think I can refuse. Hey, she added quickly, teasingly, carefulyour old-timer just walked in.
Jane glanced at her white-haired, smiling student.
Ben had already walked forward to shake his hand. That was studio policyall employees greeted all students when not otherwise occupied. Courtesy and charm to all students, regardless of sex, age, color, creed or ability.
They were a regular United Nations.
And more. Being in South Florida, gateway to Latin America, they were also a very huggy bunch. People hugged hello and hugged goodbye. Cheek kissing went on continually. It was nice; it was warm, and it was normal behavior for most people who had grown up here.
Mr. Clinton was actually a dear. They all kissed and hugged him hello all the time. He wasnt really decaying, and he wasnt nasty. He was just a little hard-of-hearing, so it sounded as if he was yelling sometimes.
Jane sighed. Yep, heres my old-timer.
Jane, he brings you gourmet coffee, Shannon reminded her.
Hes a sweetie, all right.
Jane stared at her. She didnt say anything more. They both knew what she was thinking.
Sure, the old guy was a sweetie. He just wasnt Quinn OCasey.
Jane forced a smile.
You are the boss, she murmured lightly, and moved away. Mr. Clinton, how good to see you. What did you say you wanted to do today. A samba? Youre sure youre up to it?
You bet, Janie, he assured her with a broad grin. I got the best pacemaker ever made helping this old ticker. Lets get some action going.
Watching them, Shannon smiled. No, Mr. Clinton wasnt a Quinn OCasey, but then again
Just what did Quinn expect to get from the studio?
Suddenly, for no reason that she could explain, she felt a shiver trickle down her spine.
CHAPTER 4
In the afternoon, the beach wasnt so bad, Quinn thought. It was slower. Weekends, it was crazy. If he suddenly heard there had been a run of cab drivers committing suicide on a Friday or Saturday night at the beach, it wouldnt be shocking in the least. Traffic sometimes snarled so badly that a lifetime could pass before a vehicle made it down a block.
But in the afternoon
Though they were moving into fall, temperatures were still high, but there was a nice breeze coming off the ocean, making the air almost cool. Walking from the studio, which sat between Alton Road and Washington, he passed some of the old Deco buildings and houses that had undergone little or no restoration, appreciating their charm. There were also a number of small businesses, including a coffeehouse that wasnt part of a big chain, a pretty little flower shop, some duplexes, small apartment houses and a few single dwellings. The beach itself was barely three blocks away, and he was tempted to take a quick stroll on the boardwalk and get a real feel for the area.
The stretch of sand facing the bay was dotted with sun worshipers. A volleyball game was going on, and down a bit, a mother was helping two toddlers build a sand castle. The little girl wore a white eyelet cap, protecting her delicate skin, while just a few feet away, a young couple, both bronzed and beautiful, applied great gobs of something from a tube labeled Mega-Tan to each others skin. During the week, the beach could be great. He had to admit, the Keys didnt offer huge expanses of beach. Just more privacy.
On the stretch in front of a chic Deco hotel, the bronzed and beautiful were joined by the more mundane. A huge woman wearing a skimpy suit that was totally unsuitable for her ample physique was strolling along with a scrawny man in a Speedo. They were smiling happily, and nodded as they passed him. Quinn offered them a hello and decided that the minds perception of the self was really what created happiness. The couple looked completely content. More power to them. Who the hell was he to judge? He was walking the beach in dress shoes, chinos and a tailored shirt.
A bit farther down, a group of kids seemed to be dispersing. Gathering towels, chairs and lotion bottles, they were calling out to one another, saying their goodbyes. He kept walking, watching as one by one they all disappearedexcept for one little waif who was tall when she stood but slim to the point of boniness. Beyond model slim. She had long brown hair and huge eyes, and as she watched her friends disappear, she suddenly wore a look of loneliness and pain. She looked so lost he was tempted to talk to her, but hell, this was South Beachshe could be anyone, including an undercover cop.
Not old enough.
She heard his footsteps in the sand and swung around, looking straight at him. She sized him up and down, and swallowed.
Hey, mister, you got a dollar?
You a runaway?
She flushed but said, Not exactly. Im eighteen. Honest.
But you ran away?
I left. Ive graduated high school. I just havent been able to find a job. A real job.
So youre living on the streets.
She actually grinned. The beach isnt as bad as the streets. Really. If youre going to be homeless, this is the place to be.
But youve got a home?
What are you, a cop?
No, just a concerned citizen who doesnt want to see your face in the news. Does anyone know this girl? Her body was discovered Saturday night.
The girl shook her head vehemently. Im careful. You got a dollar or not? I dont need a third degree.
Hey, wait. He pulled out his wallet and found a five.
She blinked and walked toward him. What do you want? she asked uneasily. Im not a cheap hooker.
He shook his head. I just want you to tell me that youre going to buy food, and that youre not a junkie, either.
Hey, you see any punctures in these arms? She was wearing a tank top over cutoff jeans, and she spoke with pride as well as conviction.
Get yourself something to eat, then. And hey, listen. If you do need help, you can get it, you know. Find a cop. The guys on the beach are pretty damned decent, and if not, head for the South Miami station. Theres a woman there who is a victims advocate, and shes an absolute gem. Wait, Ill give you her card.
She looked as if she was going to run with the five at first, but then she waited and even took the card.
I thought you said you werent a cop.
Im not.
Kind of overdressed for the beach, arent you?
He started to shrug. Her eyes widened. Ill bet you were at that dance studio.
He didnt answer, and she laughed. Hey, Id be there, too, if I had the bucks. God, I love to dance. She flushed again, then wiggled the five in her hand. Thanks.
Be careful, huh?
Hey, dont I know? Dont worry, Im tougher than I look. And I know that you can get into a lot more out here than just sea and sand.
She turned and sprinted off, then paused a good thirty feet away and called back to him, Hey, youre all right, you know? My name is Marnie, by the way. Then, as if she had given away far too much, she turned again, this time running toward the street at full speed.
She turned and sprinted off, then paused a good thirty feet away and called back to him, Hey, youre all right, you know? My name is Marnie, by the way. Then, as if she had given away far too much, she turned again, this time running toward the street at full speed.
He watched her go. He hoped she was as tough as she thought.
Miami Beach was a gateway to every vice in the western hemisphere.
He noted the position of the sun in the sky and glanced at his watch. Time to get moving.
He headed back for his car, which was parked over on Alton. He wasnt sure why, but he hadnt wanted to park closer to the studio. He returned to his car, took a look at his watch again and figured he had time. It was a short hop from South Beach to pay a visit to the medical examiners officer.
The newly revamped and renamed hotel where they were hoping to hold the Gator Gala had called while Shannon was giving Quinn OCasey his first lesson. When she returned the call, she was happy to learn that she had played hardball with them to just the right degreethey were calling to agree to a per-night room charge that was completely reasonable and would surely help draw northern entrants to the competition, which was planned for the second week in February. Despite the heavy pall that had seemed to hang over her since Laras death, Shannon was delighted. They would wrap up the deal at their meeting later in the week. She hurried into the main office to tell Gordon.
Great, he told her, really pleased. That should make a difference for us. I mean, who wouldnt want to come to Miami Beach in the middle of winter? Especially at such a great price. What about the meals?
Were still negotiating, she said.
What are we negotiating? Ben Trudeau asked, poking his head in.
Meals, Shannon told him.
Ah. Ben was one of those men who was so good-looking he was almost too pretty. Of course, once upon a time, it hadnt seemed that way to Shannon. Once he had been like a god to hertall, lithe, elegant, able to move with the speed and electric power of lightning or as smoothly as the wind.
He was an incredible dancer and always a striking competitor. His hair was ebony, his eyes dark as ink, and his features classically flawless. He had amazing technical ability and was a showman to boot. For several years he had competed with Lara, but then it had all fallen apart. Theyd been divorced for almost five years before her death. In that time, shed taken a number of championships, working steadily with Jim Burke. Ben, in the meantime, had grabbed any number of best in shows and number ones and cash prizes, but he hadnt gone as far as Lara. Hed changed partners too many times. Now his eyes moved over Shannon as he stood in the doorway.
Its a waste, he said.
What?
All the time youre spending on business.
Hey! Gordon said.
Well, she should be competing.
Gordon looked at Shannon, a slight smile curving his lips. She can go back into competition any time she wants.
Gentlemen, Im well aware of that. And I dont want to compete.
You know, thats just silly, Ben said, smoothing back a thatch of hair from his forehead. You get out there in the Pro-Ams with your students all the time. Whats the difference?
Theyre my students.
Lucky students, Gordon noted, still amused. You make them look great.
And Im really proud of them when they do well. Why cant you two understand that? Everyone isnt ruled by blinding ambition.
She sighed. Look, since I broke my ankle all those years ago, its never been the same. I never know when its going to give, and after too much practice, it hurts like hell. Its not good enough to work as hard as Id have to if I wanted to compete professionally. The good thing is, I really love to teach. I get my thrills by working with the students.
Beginners, Ben said, a note of contempt in his voice.
Everyone is a beginner at some point.
Ben laughed. Right. So you gonna talk that new student of yoursthat tankinto entering the newcomers division at the Gator Gala? That the kind of challenge youre up to?
Maybe I will talk him into it, she said.
Its all just an excuse for cowardice, Ben said.
She didnt have a chance to respond. A buzzer sounded on Gordons desk, and he hit the intercom button.
Dr. Long is here for his lesson with Shannon, Ellas voice informed them.
Im on my way. Before she left, she addressed the two men one last time. Both of youIm happy with what I do. Jane and Rhianna are both young and beautiful and talented. Lets support them, huh? She glared at both men. Neither responded.
Shannon started out of the office. Ben slipped up behind her, catching her shoulder the minute they were out of the doorway.
We were good, you know, he reminded her.
Once.
You really are afraid, you know. Maybe youre afraid of me.
Ben, I promise youIm not afraid of you.
We could be really good together again, he whispered huskily.
Not in this lifetime, Ben, she said sweetly, then edged her shoulder free. Excuse me. My student is waiting.
Time has gone by, you know. A lot of it.
My student is waiting.
You dont have to hurt us both by being bitter. You could forgive me.
I forgave you a long time ago, Ben.
Then dont play so hard to get.
Are you trying to come on to me againor do you just want to dance with me?
Both? He laughed with a certain charm, but it just didnt strum the same heartstrings for her it once had.
Im sorry. I know this must be amazing to you, but Im not hateful, bitter or playing hard to get. Im just not interested.
Youll be sorry, he said, his voice teasing.
She stopped, staring at him. Ben, you have a new partner. Whats her name, from Broward. Vera Thompson.
He shook his head. Shes okay. Shes not the caliber I need.
Have you told her that? Shannon inquired.
Of course not. Not yet.
Why not?
You havent agreed to dance again.
She shook her head. Ben, if I ever were to dance professionally again, it wouldnt be with you.
Why not?
She could have told him that the reasons should have been obvious. But then, maybe nothing was as obvious to Ben as it should be.
So she shrugged. And then she couldnt help the reply that came to her lips. Youre just not the caliber I need, she said, and hurried out to meet Richard for his class.
Quinn had already read the police report that had been provided by Doug. Hed read the M.E.s report, as well, which had provided a stroke of luck. There were eight M.E.s under the direction of the chief, but Anthony Duarte had performed the autopsy on Lara Trudeau.
Just as he had performed the autopsy on Nell Durken.
And though Dixon might not be a ball of fire in the homicide department, Duarte was tops in his field, a man with a natural curiosity that gave him the propensity to go far beyond thorough, even in the most straightforward circumstances.
At the desk, Quinn produced his credentials, though he knew the receptionist and she waved away his wallet as she put through the call to Duarte.