Dying for a Dance (28 page)
Authors: Cindy Sample
“You stuck the heel in his mouth, right?” I asked.
She nodded which made the blade bobble against my chin. Maybe I should stay away from questions that resulted in an affirmative response.
“I never meant to kill Dimitri. When I saw him lying there in the parking lot, with all that blood pooling under his head, I freaked out. I stuck the heel in his mouth and hoped someone would think Anya or one of his other women hit him out of spite. I knew if the police found out I'd killed him, it wouldn't take long before they would discover we were smuggling black market diamonds and selling them to Richard's clients.” She shifted her stance and I could tell her gaze was directed toward her husband.
“We would be ruined,” she said, speaking so softly I could barely hear her. “Richard had a triple bypass four years ago, and I wasn't sure he could survive jail. Or a trial.”
“I couldn't risk losing you,” she implored her husband.
Richard's face was so pale I thought he might pass out. Or suffer another heart attack. Perhaps he should have considered his fragile health before he became involved in an illegal smuggling endeavor.
“What about Yuri?” I asked.
“Yuri saw me put the heel in Dimitri's mouth so he tried to blackmail me. I had no choice but to poison him,” she said. “He was a bad person. You understand, don't you?”
I wasn't sure if she was now pleading with me, her husband, or the detective who was trying to talk her into putting down her weapon.
“Of course, I understand,” I said. “You know I'm your friend.”
A security guard popped his head into the room, his hand hovering over the gun in his holster. I wasn't the only person who noticed. Paula tensed up, her grip becoming even more of a stranglehold.
“Paula, we'll get help for you. I promise.” Tom's soothing tone of voice reminded me of the actors who play hostage negotiators on television. He also sounded like that every time I got mad at him. Maybe dating
me
helped perfect the skills he needed to calm irate female killers.
Tom moved forward slightly. “Let Laurel go and we'll get everything worked out.”
“You'll look fabulous in orange,” Stan chimed in. “Honest, it's your color.”
Only Stan could pick the most inopportune moment to offer fashion advice.
“I don't trust any of you.” Paula's voice was fraught with hysteria and fear. “She's coming with me.” As she inched her way to the door, I planted my feet in an attempt to slow down her escape, but that only resulted in a deep gash above my breast. My head swirled with dizziness as a tiny flow of blood seeped down the front of my dress.
Liz was going to be so pissed.
FIFTY
* * * *
Tom flipped open his cell, hopefully calling for reinforcements. He never once took his eyes off Paula or the weapon she held against my throat. The young security guard restrained Richard, cuffing his hands behind his back.
From outside the ballroom, a noisy rumble caused Paula to jump, the blade barely missing my jugular vein and nicking me on my chin. Next time I chased after a killer, I was bringing some of Ben's Snoopy Band-aids with me.
A tear rolled down my cheek as I wondered if I would ever see my children again.
Through the plate glass window, I noticed two snowmobiles park next to the exterior door of the hotel. The drivers, wearing Royal Tahoe Resort staff uniforms, must be part of the maintenance crew. It would be difficult to maintain the grounds of a huge resort like this without the assistance of some type of transportation. The men climbed from their double-seated vehicles, removed their helmets and bulky ski mittens, and headed in the opposite direction from the room we were in.
I sighed, disappointed. I'd been hoping for a SWAT team.
Paula pushed me forward and we moved in tandem toward the door leading outside. To a below-freezing snowy tundra. What was her getaway plan? And the bigger question—what was she going to do with her captive?
Paula grabbed a down parka hanging on a clothing rack. The scissors shifted momentarily from her right hand to the left as she alternated slipping her arms into the sleeves of the jacket. My mind briefly contemplated that ballroom dancing also taught agility to would-be killers.
She shoved me through the door and pushed me toward the unoccupied vehicles. I stumbled on a patch of ice, but with the scissors pressed against my back, and Paula urging me toward the snowmobiles it was obvious what her next move would be.
A blast of frigid wind turned my goose bumps into miniature moguls. My teeth chattered and my brain felt as frozen as the surrounding terrain. As Paula forced me into the driver's seat of the nearest vehicle, I realized I was far more likely to succumb to death from hypothermia than death by scissors.
Paula leaned forward, her cold breath assaulting my frost-tipped ears. “Get me away from here and I'll let you go. I promise.” When I hesitated, she poked the scissors against my ear.
I've grown really fond of my ears and would prefer to have a matching set for the remainder of my life. If Paula trusted me to drop her somewhere so she could run away from the authorities that worked for me. All I had to do was ensure all my body parts remained safe from harm, plus thwart her escape. By then Tom would hopefully have brought in some official reinforcements and devised a rescue plan.
Having ridden on the back of a snowmobile with my ex-husband, I knew they were fairly easy to operate. The biggest challenge was avoiding rocks, trees and other obstacles. I pulled up the red “kill switch” and turned the key. Then I shoved the throttle forward and we took off.
Most snowmobilers are clothed in protective gear, boots and helmets, not in sheer silk evening gowns. Tears streamed down my unprotected cheeks as we whizzed down the icy path away from the hotel. At this point, I didn't think Paula was operating on all eight cylinders, if she ever had been. Killing Dimitri might have been an accident, but planting the heel in his mouth and subsequently poisoning Yuri were pure evil.
She had justified her actions to herself because she was worried about her husband's fragile health. But just because Paula was a loving wife, that didn't make her any more sympathetic. Or any less crazy. Especially since she was forcing me to drive a snowmobile through the snowy terrain, a lethal weapon grazing my ear.
I glanced down and noticed my hands and arms had turned an odd shade of blue. I didn't know if it was the cold or the reflection of the moonlight on my dress. Or if I was losing my mind.
Two victims had already died. Was I about to become the third?
FIFTY-ONE
* * * *
Our snowmobile zoomed across the icy patches of the deserted beach. I had no idea if Paula had an escape plan. All I knew was that my ears were ringing from the cold. Were those sirens in the distance coming to our rescue? Or could the end be near and the sound was Gabriel's horn, welcoming me to the pearly gates? My hands were frozen to the handlebars and my jaw felt like it was locked in place. Despite her down jacket, I doubted if my passenger was in much better shape.
Paula's knee nudged my back and I hit the brake, slowing the vehicle almost to a halt. The wind still roared, but the sirens were definitely growing louder.
“Pull over to that boathouse,” Paula shouted.
“You want me to drop you off on the dock?”
She punched me on the back with her fist. “No way. I'm not leaving you behind. I saw the way that detective looked at you. You're far too valuable as a hostage. You and I are taking a little boat trip.”
The verdict was in. My captor was truly nuts. There was no way I could survive a ride across that lake clothed only in a thin evening gown. It was time to take action.
As multiple sirens shrieked alongside the ferocious winds, I shoved the throttle forward and we sped in the direction of the snow-covered boathouse. Seconds before we reached the enclosure, I leaned to the far left and moved the handlebars in the same direction. We skidded almost ten feet and I worried that we would crash into the mountainous snowdrifts piled well above our heads.
I hit the brake and the snowmobile righted itself. Instead of stopping in front of the boathouse as directed, I accelerated again. We flew down the icy planks of the narrow wooden dock.
Paula shrieked at me to stop.
So I did.
I shoved the throttle back and hit the kill switch. The engine immediately shut off, but the snowmobile slid a few feet from sheer momentum. For a few seconds I thought my brilliant plan would work as the machine teetered on the edge of the dock.
It rocked to the left.
Then it rocked to the right.
Paula let go of the scissors and wrapped her arms around my waist, but her frostbitten hands couldn't maintain their grip on my slippery chiffon dress. When the snowmobile teetered to the left once again, she fell off, screaming for help as she slid into the alpine lake. I clutched the handlebars, valiantly attempting to maintain my grip and keep the vehicle upright.
Endless seconds ticked by as the snowmobile and I fought for control.
The snowmobile won. As it listed to the right, I continued to grasp on to the handlebars. Half of my body was submerged in the frigid water while the other half remained exposed to the freezing air.
A huge lightning bug appeared on shore making me wonder if I was about to lose consciousness. I shook my head and tried to remain alert. Not a lightning bug. A man wearing a helmet and riding a snowmobile, its beacon of light aimed at me and at Paula. She thrashed in the water in an attempt to stay afloat, the heavy satin gown threatening to take her down to Davy Jones locker.
A giant ran down the dock, his face hidden behind his helmet. His massive arms swooped down to grab hold of me. I reached for his outstretched hand and our fingers briefly made contact.
The sensation of his calloused hand touching mine was the last thing I felt as I lost my grip and sank down into a watery grave. Down into darkness and a welcome sleep.
FIFTY-TWO
* * * *
I opened my eyelids. The sun burned through my eyeballs so I closed them again.
Much better.
“She's awake.” The well-modulated tones sounded faintly like my mother's.
“Are you sure? I didn't see her move.” The masculine voice also sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. A maelstrom of memories swirled inside my head where a jackhammer had taken up permanent residency.
“Mommy, please wake up.”
Okay, that voice I recognized. I squinted into the bright florescent lights beaming down from the stark white ceiling. I looked around the room, astonished to see that I was lying in a twin-sized bed in a small room with pale aqua walls. A small boy with a shaggy head of hair threw himself on top of my chest.
I patted his brown locks. “We need to get you a haircut as soon as we get home, honey.”
“Mommy, you took a really long nap. I didn't think you'd ever wake up.” Ben snuggled against me. The warmth of his body felt good. I felt cold inside. Like I'd spent a week trapped in a meat locker.
Familiar faces surrounded my bed. Mother and Bradford. Jenna and Ben. Tom.
“Where am I? What happened?”
Tom and Bradford exchanged glances. Tom spoke first. “You're at Bertram Hospital in South Lake Tahoe. You've been here since last night.”
Crazy thoughts filtered through my brain. I vaguely remembered driving a snowmobile. Did I even know how to drive a snowmobile? And I sort of recalled being on the beach with a friend.
My brain reeled. Not a friend. A murderer!
“Paula forced me to help her escape on the snowmobile,” I said.
Five heads nodded in agreement.
Memories of the previous night returned in one horrific sequence after another. “I drove the snowmobile on to the dock and tried to hang on to the bars. I couldn't hold on any longer and fell into the water.” I smiled at my hero. “You saved me.”
Tom looked abashed as he shook his head.
“Nope, Detective Bradford rescued you,” Ben piped up. “He jumped in the lake and lifted you up out of the water, just like
the little mermaid
. Next time you fall in the lake you should wear a tail, Mom. It would help you swim.”
I wrapped my arms around my son and clasped him against me. “Next time I won't be swimming in Lake Tahoe in the middle of winter.”
I stared at Bradford. “What happened?”
He flushed with embarrassment as my mother squeezed his hand.
“I called for reinforcements but the next thing I knew the two of you had taken off and were heading who knows where,” Tom said, his face stark white and his expression serious. “I ran into Robert and your mother who'd been wandering all over the hotel looking for you. When we went outside, the maintenance guys were arguing about who would follow your runaway snowmobile. Robert grabbed one of the guy's helmets, jumped on the second snowmobile and chased after you. I contacted some of the local deputies and once they arrived we tried to follow along the highway, thinking it would be faster.”
Tom moved over to the side of my bed and grabbed my right hand. “I can't believe I almost lost you.”
Jenna plopped on the bed next to her brother. “Move over, Ben. My turn to hug Mom.” My daughter gave me a hug I would remember for the rest of my life. My eyes filled with tears at the love surrounding me.
Which didn't stop me from asking questions. “What happened to Paula? Is she okay? The last time I saw her, she was thrashing in the water.”
“She's in intensive care,” Tom said. “Paula was in the water much longer than you since you were Bradford's number one priority. We weren't even sure she was going to make it. Her husband is under arrest and we have a guard posted at her room. The FBI is now involved because their diamond smuggling scheme crossed state and international borders. Richard would sell the diamonds to a few of his clients who weren't finicky about the origin of their glittering tax free assets.”
“He told me it had been a great year for commodities,” I said. “Was it Paula's idea or his?”
