Virginia Lowell - A Cookie Before Dying

“Quite a dancer, isn’t he?”

Olivia spun around to find her stepfather, Allan Meyers, standing behind her in the shadows. Allan’s broad, friendly face tightened as he watched his wife twirl away from her instructor, then back into the crook of his arm.

“Name’s Raoul, of course,” Allan said. “Doesn’t seem to need a last name.”

“Something tells me you’re not here for a rumba lesson,” Olivia said.

Allan laughed. “Your mother sang this fellow’s praises so much, I thought I’d have a look-see for myself. Not that I’m worried, mind you.”

“No reason you should be.”

With his eyes glued to Ellie’s movements, Allan asked, “You thinking about rumba lessons, too? You might want to step on it. This guy will be gone in two weeks.” With a sheepish grin, he added, “Not that I’m counting the days.”

The rumba came to an end, and Ellie danced over to them, swaying her hips in a way no daughter should have to witness. Allan handed Ellie a bottle of water from which she took a long swig. “I have a five-minute break while Raoul selects more music. And I’m afraid Allan and I have to leave right after the lesson. We have reservations for a romantic dinner at that new restaurant, Bon Vivant. Allan planned the whole thing.” Ellie flashed a radiant smile at her husband.

Olivia decided not to mention that she’d just had dinner with Del at Bon Vivant. Her mother already dropped enough hints about the two of them. Living in the city had given Olivia a sense of personal privacy that had evaporated about two minutes after she’d moved back to Chatterley Heights.

Ellie took another swallow of water and handed the bottle back to Allan. “Now Livie, on the phone you said you wanted to know about the Critches? I’m afraid I rather lost track of them after they left Chatterley Heights for DC, but one hears things.”

“I think Charlene Critch is hiding something,” Olivia said. “She knows who that prowler was, the one I found in her store. I’m sure of it. Del suspects her brother, Charlie.” Olivia shook her head. “I visited Struts & Bolts and took a good look at him, but I’m not convinced Charlie is the man I saw. He does seem secretive, though. I’d like to know more about him, and about Charlene, too.”

Allan laughed. “You sure came to the right person. When it comes to people, your mother knows all.”

“I’m not so sure about that. Let me think.” Ellie fingered her hair off one shoulder to disentangle it from a dangly earring. “The Critch family moved away from Chatterley Heights about ten years ago, right in the middle of the school year. I remember because it was Jason’s senior year in high school, and he had such a crush on Charlene. After she left, he was down in the dumps for some time and had trouble concentrating. Although it was spring, after all, which undoubtedly had something to do with his distraction. You know what those last months of high school are like. There’s so much on one’s mind, all of it earth-shattering.”

“The minutes march on, Mother.”

“As they so often do when one is constantly reminded of them.” Though Ellie’s tone sounded innocent enough, Allan edged away out of range.

“Point taken,” Olivia said.

“It’s hard for teenagers to adjust to change,” Ellie said.

“Charlene is a couple years younger than Jason, so she was about fifteen when she had to leave all her friends. She was a pretty little thing, not so painfully thin as she is now. It gives her a hard look, don’t you think? I suspect the poor girl has an eating disorder, which shouldn’t be surprising with those parents of hers. So critical, especially Patty. She insisted her children be perfect, which of course children never are. Present company excluded, of course.”

“Liar,” Olivia said. “But back to the intruder?”

“I’m getting there, Livie. You’re so impatient.”

“I thought I was perfect.”

“Now who’s wasting time?” Ellie glanced back over her shoulder as Raoul crooked a come-hither index finger at her. “Hang on a moment, I have an idea.” She glided across the dance floor to Raoul, who leaned down to her as she spoke. He nodded once.

Ellie waved toward Olivia and called, “Come along, both of you.”

“But—”

“No buts, Livie. I refuse to miss a moment of my wonderful lesson.”

Olivia had a bad feeling about what might be coming next. She glanced at her stepfather. With his husky build and hunched shoulders, he reminded her of a bull in the headlights.

As Raoul changed the compact disc, Ellie said, “This will be fun. And so fortuitous! I’ve always wanted both of you to take up dancing. It will keep you young, and wait until you see how exhilarating it is.”

Olivia’s bad feeling worsened.

“We will keep the dance slow and simple.” Raoul looked as if he had arrived yesterday from Latin America, but his accent was slight. “Ellie and I will demonstrate the basic steps of the rumba. We will then separate the ladies from the gentlemen. Or the gentleman, in this case.” Raoul bowed his head in Allan’s direction. “Normally, I would have a dance partner to instruct the ladies. Alas, here I teach alone. Therefore, I will first instruct the gentleman in his movements, and then the ladies in theirs. Ellie has learned the dance quickly and well, so she will dance with her husband. But first, Ellie and I will again demonstrate the rumba, as I noted that the two of you were in conversation while we danced earlier. Please pay careful attention.”

“I really don’t think this is—” As the music interrupted, Olivia shot an alarmed glance at her mother.

Raoul held out his hand to Ellie, who took it and allowed herself to be escorted again to the dance floor. She rested her right hand on Raoul’s upper arm as he reached his left hand to her shoulder blade. Olivia sneaked a peek at Allan’s scowling face. She sympathized. Over Ellie’s head, Raoul called across the floor, “Watch our feet, the steps are quite simple. Think of a square.”

To Olivia, the square image lasted about twenty seconds. After that, the steps made no sense at all. If there was a pattern to them, she couldn’t see it. Ellie and Raoul’s dancing feet seemed to be going everywhere at once, and the hip movements became, to say the least, distracting.

When the dance ended, Raoul turned to Olivia and Allan. “There, you see? One makes a square, with small departures. Slow, quick-quick, slow. It is simple.” With a tight, closed-lip smile, he held out his hand to Allan, who shrank back against the wall. With an elegant shrug, Raoul turned to Olivia and captured her hand. She felt her heart sink to about knee level.

Ellie took one look at her daughter’s face and said, “I’m sorry, sweetie, I forgot that you need to repeat the steps slowly several times before they make sense to you. I’m afraid you inherited that from your dear father.”

“Ah,” said Raoul. “I shall teach you slowly.”

Ellie slid between them. “That is so perceptive of you, Raoul, but first, perhaps I could try? It would be such good practice for me.” Ellie grabbed Olivia’s hand and dragged her toward the far end of the dance floor. As Raoul started to follow, she said, “No, no, you gentlemen take a break. We won’t be a minute.” Ellie slipped into the office and reappeared as the rumba music began again. She led Olivia to a dimly lit corner and said, “I know you hate this, Livie, and so does Allan, so I regretfully release my dream of having a twinkle-toed family. I shall orchestrate your escape. But first I thought we could talk more easily over here, away from the pressure. Raoul is so forceful.”

Olivia glanced back across the room, where her stepfather and Raoul stood several feet apart, arms crossed over chests, watching them. “But poor Allan is alone with Raoul.” Turning back to her mother, she asked, “Don’t you find Raoul rather intimidating?”