Angel's Dance (12 page)

“
If you two will excuse
me, I have completely lost my appetite!” she snapped. Grant moved
to let her out. “I will wait outside where the company is far more
pleasant than you two!” with that, she stalked out the
door.

Grant sat moodily, thinking over what
Clear had said. He was painfully aware of Bryce analyzing him from
across the table and he tried to not let any of his thoughts
show.

“
She sure is a spit fire.
You got a thing for the handfuls, don’tcha?”

Grant simply glowered at him. “There
is nothing between Clear and I.”

“
I stand by what I said,”
Bryce smirked as he bit into a fry. “There may not be now, but you
at least want something more.” He waggled his eyebrows and Grant
tried not to groan.

“
Why would I even think
about that? What would a smart, beautiful, young woman like Clear
want with a guy like me? I am not as delusional as you,” Grant
stated as calmly as possible.

“
Talk yourself out of it
all you want, but I seen the way you look at her. Logic has no
place in the heart.” A shadow crossed Bryce’s face.

“
Look Bryce, there is
nothing there. We come from completely different worlds. I won’t
deny she is hot, but there is nothing to even think of pursuing.
Just try not to piss her off, huh? I need her help.”

“
Why do you think that?
You’ve got Chicago’s finest on it.” Bryce replied a little icily,
tapping his chest.

“
You don’t know what Clear
can do. You haven’t seen what I have,” Grant murmured, staring off
into space for a moment. “Believe me, bringing her in was not an
insult to you or anyone else. I have no doubt that she will bring
Kat home. What she does… it is… amazing,” He pulled back a bit.
Biting his tongue, lest he give anything away, he
shrugged.

Bryce eyed him curiously and shrugged
in response.

Clear stood on the street front taking
deep breaths. She knew the anger was unwarranted and wrestled with
it for several minutes. The effort wasn’t paying off, so she tried
once again to focus on her visions of the girl. Tuning into the
young woman opened up other avenues right and left. This was the
girl’s hometown and her imprint was all over it. Images of her
practicing in a studio that seemed to be around the corner,
Saturday breakfasts at this very diner, playing in a field with
some boys… the images kept flashing by. There was nothing nearly so
angry here as the feelings she had gotten in Chicago. The clothes
were the same, but the girl’s makeup wasn’t as heavy, her eyes not
as… hollow.

Thinking of the girl in Chicago gave
Clear a chill. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned
against the wall. They could be eating for a while. Her stomach
growled, appetite returning in force. She sighed in
disappointment.

Looking up and down the street,
thinking of finding something quick to eat rather than re-joining
the two bull heads, Clear realized that this town was as simple as
it felt. There were no big chain stores, no McDonalds or Wendy’s
she could run into real quick. There were three other restaurant
establishments, but she didn’t see people coming and going from
them. She sighed, accepting that she probably would not eat before
dinner.

She wandered down the street a ways,
looking into the shops. There was a men’s store and a women’s
apparel shop side by side. After that was a hardware store bringing
her to the corner of that block. She turned back and headed the
other way. The shop to the right of the diner was a sports store
and beside that an ice cream shop. One store front was empty with
signs for another store coming soon. It was not a name she was
familiar with and from the signage she got the feeling it was
another mom and pop shop. Small business was booming in Peoria.
Past the empty store front was another clothing store, this one
geared towards children.

Clear sighed and headed back towards
the restaurant. Glancing up, she saw Grant and Detective Bryce
exiting the restaurant. Grant had a bag in hand. She hurried to
catch up with them.

“
Where’d you take off to?”
Bryce asked as soon as she was within ear shot.

“
Just getting a feel for
the town.” Clear shrugged, waving a hand about.

“
Oh yeah? Can it tell you
much?” Bryce waggled his eyebrows.

“
Not always, but
sometimes,” Clear shrugged.

Grant hid a smile. “Here… thought your
appetite might have come back.”

Clear opened the bag as they headed
back to the car and began nibbling on fries. She inhaled the
delicious smell of burger and held back a groan. “Thanks,” she said
through the mouthful of fries.

They all hopped into the car. As Bryce
started the engine, Grant leaned forward. “So, what is this girl’s
name?” he asked.

“
You don’t already know?”
Bryce eyed him suspiciously.

Clear piped up from the back. “The
people we talked to described her, but didn’t have a name to go
with her. Kat’s relationship with her was unclear. She was just
someone new that none of them had really spoken with, but some had
seen Kat talking to.”

He stared at her for a minute in the
rear view mirror then turned back to Grant.

“
Her name was Belladonna
Johnson.”

“
Wow, quite the mouthful,
huh?” Grant smiled, but the smile was not genuine. Clear could not
figure out their relationship. Both acted like the other was a
friend, but it was obviously just an act on both parts. Did neither
of them realize the others feelings for them? Or perhaps they were
doing this for Laura’s sake. Clear pondered that a bit further.
Something felt right about that. The way Bryce acted around Laura
was different. He was sincere with her. He really did seem
concerned for her feelings. Hmmm…

Before Clear knew it, they were
pulling in front of a very nice house on the outskirts of town.
There was at least an acre of land with the house and Clear
wondered just how much money these people had. She wiped her hands
on a napkin and waited for Grant to let her out.

Hitting the street, Clear was
immediately struck with immense sadness. The feeling was coming
directly from the home. She tried to put up walls to block it. The
sorrow was almost overwhelming. Clear took deep breaths to push the
pain away. It was amazing the overwhelming sense of sadness did not
reflect on the home itself. The yards were perfectly manicured, the
flower boxes full and blooming. The shutters looked like they had
recently received a fresh coat of paint.

Detective Bryce led them to the front
door and knocked authoritatively. A lovely woman answered and Clear
was immediately struck by her resemblance to the missing
girl.

“
Oh… Detective Bryce!” the
woman exclaimed, pulling her robe tightly around her. At nearly 2
in the afternoon the woman was not dressed. Clear realized this was
the mother and the source of the intense sadness.

Detective Bryce took the woman’s
proffered hand. “Hello Candy. I have some friends that would like
to speak with you. Do you have a few minutes?”

The woman’s eyes lit up for a moment
then darkness furrowed them almost instantly. “Is this… have you
found her?” The fear and hope were warring with each other in the
woman’s voice. Clear couldn’t stand her pain, and the hope was even
more painful. Grant squeezed her arm and Clear realized that she
had begun to pull away from the woman. She leaned into him, feeling
comfort from his touch.

Detective Bryce shrugged
apologetically. “We have not actually found her, but another young
woman from a ballet troupe has gone missing. Some people saw her
with your daughter as recently as a few months ago. We have Ms.
Angel here, who thinks that she can link more information between
your daughter and this other young woman and may be able to use
that to find them.” He waved his hand to Clear and she stepped
forward.

The woman took her hand and Clear
could feel her trembling. “Oh, anything I could do to help,” she
murmured, sounding faint of breath. She gazed deeply into Clear’s
eyes and the hope shining from them was the type of look one sees
in old Frescoes of people meeting saints. Clear tried not to wilt
before that gaze.

The woman pulled them into the home
and Clear’s first instinct was to pull back into the light. The
home was so cold!! Instead she pushed forward and followed the
woman through the foyer into a large living room. The woman offered
them seats on a couch and Clear sat rigidly. Glancing over at Grant
and Detective Bryce she realized she was the only one who felt that
it was cold. The cold she felt was not the actual temperature, but
an overall timbre of the home. Clear tried not to
shiver.

The woman sat opposite Clear and
tucked her hair behind her ear. “How can I help?” she
pleaded.

Biting her lip, Clear tried not to
look the woman in the eye. “Well, I am a behavioral analyst. We
look for patterns in victims…’

“
Victims?” The woman
looked to Detective Bryce. “But.. I thought you said she was listed
as a runaway?”

Clear raised her hand. “Your daughter
may have left voluntarily, but someone… influenced her decision. Am
I correct?”

The woman shook her head. “I.. I don’t
know. I was so surprised by it all…. To be honest, I never thought
she ran away, but.. well, the detective and everyone else said…”
she trailed off, wiping her eyes on her robe.

Clear touched her arm gently, offering
the only comfort she could at this point. “Well, the other missing
girl is the same way. There was no deviant behavior prior to
indicate that she would run away. See, already one thing these two
girls had in common.” Clear looked over to the fireplace and saw
photos of Bella… how did she know it was Bella? It felt right.
“Your daughter was a dancer. This other girl was as well. We think
that may be how they met.” Clear stood and walked over to the
picture. She touched the frame and was sucked into a memory of the
night the photo had been taken.

It was a big recital and Donna (Why
Donna, not Bella? Clear wondered) had gotten the lead part. She was
flushed with excitement and her performance was extraordinary. Her
father brought her roses on stage during her final curtain and she
turned, smiling for the photo.

Briefly touching the other photos,
Clear got similar glorious and happy experiences. She turned and
looking at Grant, realized that she hadn’t been standing there too
long… at least not long enough to draw suspicion or
concern.