Angel's Dance (22 page)

He whirled around in surprise when she
got close enough that he could hear her feet slapping pavement. She
was most definitely not wearing running shoes either. She slowed
down, holding the stitch in her side and dragging in ragged
breaths.

“
Come to fight for him
again?” Bryce quipped.

Clear waved him off. “You
are so blind… by your anger at him…” She took a deep cleansing
breath. “But I don’t care about your personal relationship.”
Another deep breath. The stitch had faded. “I’ll be honest, I’m not
a big fan of Grant’s either. But I’m not here for him. I am here
because a 15 year old girl was kidnapped. Now, I don’t know what
happened back here that you people all have it in your head that I
am sleeping with him, but I am not.” She could feel the heat rising
in her cheeks. “Nor will we ever.” In her mind she amended,
‘
again
’. “I am
not Grant. I know you have probably already checked me out.” His
twinge of guilt made her think maybe he had not. “I am a
professional,” she bluffed. “I am not making this call on a
desperate whim.” Which is what Bryce had basically accused Grant of
doing. “Now obviously, you don’t agree with us. That is fine. But
Kat is in very real danger and if we have tipped the bad guy off,
then he will get rid of her as soon as possible.

“
Can you at least do this
for me? Take his parents in for questioning and keep them talking
as long as you can. Oh, and let me borrow your car. We need to get
to Chicago and find this guy as soon as possible.”

Bryce eyed her carefully. “You really
aren’t sleeping with him?” he asked as he held his keys up to
her.

Chapter
Fourteen

Clear had never seen Grant drive so
fast or so recklessly. Her fingernails were embedded in the door
and chair as he took another sharp corner. He had not said anything
in the last fifteen or twenty minutes, but she knew that his
tension was rising as well and this is what really scared her. They
had Louis’ home address and his studio address. There had been no
answer at his home and as far as Clear could tell neither Bella nor
Kat had been there recently. There was no imprint. Of course she
hadn’t made it past the front door. Now Grant had the sirens
blaring as they flew across Chicago to the man’s studio.

About a mile from the studio, Grant
flipped the sirens off and a block from the studio he turned the
lights off. They cruised slowly past the studio and there were
lights on. Grant drifted to a stop.

“
I don’t know if you
should come in,” he murmured.

“
Of course I should.”
Clear looked at him in confusion.

“
It could be dangerous.”
Grant eyed her.

“
And when has that ever
stopped me before?” Clear smirked.

“
I know. I also remember
what happened last time,” Grant said very seriously.

“
You need me in there. If
this guy is the guy, I’m the only one who will know for
sure.”

“
Yeah? And how will I
know?” Grant asked.

“
Follow my lead.” Clear
slid out of the front seat. She closed the door gently.

Grant jogged to catch up with her. He
was strung tighter than a guitar string. Clear was a little worried
about him. As they walked up to the front door of the studio, Clear
leaned in before Grant could knock. She held her hand up to stop
him and listened for a moment.

Classical music was playing very
loudly. She could hear a whispering sound, almost like a
conversation, but no matter how hard she focused, she could not
make out the words. She stepped back and knocked.

“
Let me talk,” she
whispered as they waited.

It took surprisingly long for
footsteps to sound outside the door. A moment later the door opened
and a handsome young man stood holding a glass of wine and looking
a little harried.

“
What do you want?” The
man glared at the two of them through hazy eyes.

“
Hello,” Clear said
sweetly. “We were looking for Louis Lando? I am a dancer here in
Chicago and.. well, a friend of mine told me to come and see you,
to experience a true genius.” She smiled brightly.

The man watched the two of them for a
moment. “And you?”

Grant smiled. “Another fine patron of
the arts,” he murmured, placing his arm casually around Clear’s
waist.

The man studied Clear for a moment.
“Well, I was in the middle of a project… but, who could possibly
resist such a lovely woman as you?” He stepped back, swinging the
door open and ushering them into the studio.

Clear was immediately struck by a very
heavy incense. The cloying smell clung to her nostrils and coated
her skin. She leaned into Grant as they walked in.

The room was a large open area with
recessed lighting along walls of paintings and photographs. There
was not a single mirror in the room. There was a couch against one
wall and a desk against another wall, but the remainder of the
floor was completely bare. They followed him across the room, where
he pulled open a cabinet and turned the music down.

Clear moved to a large portrait photo
and touched the gilded frame and was sucked into a back room in
this studio where there was photography equipment and the young
woman stood in preparation to perform a pirouette. Louis was
walking around her, camera at his chest, clicking like
crazy.

“
Go ahead,” he murmured
and she began to spin. He took pictures as she spun, then stopped
her and had her sit on the ground with one leg arched back behind
her and the other in front curled under her. He adjusted her head
toward the skylight and took two pictures, then leaned in to
re-adjust her hair. He gently pushed it over her collar bone and
then leaned in to her ear….

She was brought back to the present as
he walked up to her. “Quite lovely, yes?” He smiled at her in a
distinctively seductive manner and she had to really try to resist
cringing.

“
Amazing,” she whispered
around the bile in her throat. “Did you take it?”

“
But of course.” He spun
with his arms out indicating the room. “This is my joie de vivre.
Some of the greatest dancers I know… and have trained.” He cocked
his head toward her then looked at Grant out of the corner of his
eye. Grant was quickly perusing from the other end of the room.
“So, Cherie,” he whispered. “Do you wish to be a great dancer?” His
eyes smoldered and Clear felt ill. This was the man from her vision
at the performance. There was no mistaking the bad accents or the
suggestive tone.

“
Of course. Why else would
I come?” She smiled back, reminding herself that Grant was just
across the room with a very big gun and she was not as trapped as
she felt.

“
Indeed…” He stared at her
intensely and it took everything she had not to break the contact
and look away. She instinctively knew that he wanted her to break
away and would not give him the satisfaction. After nearly a minute
he clapped his hands, grinning in delight. “Well, my dear, you
certainly have the spirit. A bit old… but that has never stopped
anyone.”

Clear was almost certain she was
supposed to be offended by the age comment, but instead she smiled.
“Older and wiser,” she offered cryptically. “So… tell me about some
of these lovelies?” She indicated the wall.

“
Ah, yes. Well, many of
them were simply photographs, but some of them… some of them I made
great.” His eyes had taken on a slightly dreamy quality. “But, then
I am sure you know many of them. You are a dancer here in
Chicago?”

Clear smiled, thinking quickly. “Ahh,
not yet. I hope to be! I recently moved here from Seattle. Better
opportunities,” she bluffed.

“
Well, that would explain
why I have not seen you yet.” He stroked his chin. She noticed that
his five o’clock shadow was perfect, indicating that it was
intentional. His nails were perfectly trimmed and caught the light.
Clear realized that they were painted with a clear
gloss.

This man was obviously very full of
himself. She linked her arm in his and moved on to the next
pictures. He had many little stories about each woman, but after a
time they all began to blend together for Clear. All these
rail-thin dancers in similar poses with similar black leotards. She
wondered if he felt the same.

Then they came to a very different
picture. This was of a young woman on a stage. Her costume was
bright and elaborate and he had captured her in a leap. Clear
looked very closely. Something was niggling in her mind. She
brushed the edge of the frame and was once again in that hot
theatre back stage, but this time she could see onto the stage and
watched Bella dancing. The heavy camera around her neck told her
that she was seeing this through Louis’ eyes.

His body was damp from the hot lights
and he had to dry his hands before he could grip the camera.
Raising the lens to his eye, he watched her graceful elegance. The
arch of her neck as she performed a perfect arabesque caught his
eye and he quickly zoomed in snapping several pictures, hoping
desperately that at least one turned out well. When her ridiculous
and awkward partner joined her, he let go of the camera again. He
had to suppress the rage engulfing him as the silly boy clumsily
performed a lift that nearly dropped her on her head. Oh, it looked
well enough thanks to Bella’s incredible balance. Only a true
genius such as himself would have seen the wobbling. He flicked a
sheen of sweat off of his brow before it could drip into his eyes
and had to quickly step behind the curtain as a flock of so-so
dancers moved off stage. He waited patiently for Bella to exit. He
knew that they needed to talk about her lovely new friend. It was
hard to imagine that he had found another beauty as near perfection
as his Bellissima!

He stepped out and was lucky to catch
Bella in another remarkable photo as she leapt across the stage. He
smiled with deep satisfaction and once again ducked into the
shadows of the curtain as he waited for her to come off
stage.

Clear had to forcefully pull herself
back from the vision, knowing what was going to happen next. She
couldn’t linger too long over Bella or he may become suspicious.
She could not let him become suspicious, because she was now
absolutely certain that he was the one responsible for Bella’s
disappearance and from his thoughts she was also fairly certain
that he was involved in Kat’s disappearance as well.

She turned and smiled up at him. “It
is an exceptional photo.” She watched carefully for any concern,
but found none. She continued. “You are really an amazing
photographer. That shot could not possibly have been easy, yet you
bring out the absolute thrill and beauty of the dance.”

He smiled under her praise. “Yes, well
it requires a phenomenal dancer to achieve such success. Most
cannot do it.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “Were you looking for
photos of you in action?” The implication in his voice turned her
stomach. The mental images associated with his thought had nothing
to do with dancing.

“
No!” she yelped, unable
to help the fear coursing through her veins. At his startled look,
she tried to look demure. “I.. I mean.. I don’t think I would look
so lovely.” She released his arm and moved on to the next several
photos. All back to the boring portraits. She moved through them
rather quickly, despite his intense desire to discuss
them.

She stopped again before another
artistic photo. This was of a very petite dancer performing a
glissade en arriere and her head was tilted down so that her hair
covered her face and the shadow blocked the rest. This photo was
not taken on a stage. Without knowing how she knew, Clear knew that
this was Grant’s daughter Kat.

She wanted to touch the picture frame
and get more from it, but suddenly she became very afraid. She
looked to Grant across the room and when he met her eyes, he
immediately came over. He put his arm around her shoulder and
smiled at Louis.

“
Finding everything
alright?” he asked Clear. She nodded, hoping her tension didn’t
show. She saw him glance at the photo and immediately felt the
tension in his arm around her. He had recognized his daughter. She
peeked up at him and felt an immense sense of relief that he still
looked as cool and calm as before. She could only hope that she was
doing as well.