Dancing in the Dark (14 page)

“Please call me at your earliest convenience,” she said into the
mouthpiece. “Of course, I understand you can’t speak specifically about
Leslie Patterson, but I do have some general questions our viewers
would be interested in.”

When asked for his suggestion, Carlos said they should drive over to
Asbury Park to his favorite pizza parlor. “It’s not long on atmosphere,
but the pies are the best I’ve ever had.”

Fifteen minutes later they were seated in the storefront restaurant.
They ordered two pies, one just tomato and cheese, the other topped
with pepperoni. Anthony dug right in, polishing off four slices in
rapid succession. Emily and Diane both berated themselves for going for
thirds. But Michelle took only one, nibbling at it and leaving all of
the crust on her plate.

Diane hated the fact that she was keeping track now, watching every
morsel of food that went into her daughter’s mouth.

Now that it was dark, it was as safe as it
was ever going to be. The moonlight made going to the Casino risky, but
there was nothing that could change that. It had to be done tonight.

Keeping close to the gently rounded outer
wall of the Casino lessened the chance of being spotted. Around the
curve, a breeze finally came in from the ocean, blowing at the giant
copper sea horse that hung by metal threads, ready to snap from the
roof of the neglected art deco building. A rickety fence blocked the
entrance. Iridescent letters spelled
DANGER
:
KEEP
OUT. PRIVATE PROPERTY. NO TRESPASSING.

There was no difficulty slipping through
the opening in the fence. Once inside, it was safe to turn on the
flashlight. The yellow beam shot out over a wet cement floor strewn
with bird droppings, broken shells, and seagull feathers. Bits of
broken glass crunched underfoot.

Beneath the old sign that proclaimed the
cavernous auditorium as the Casino Skating Palace, there was a hole in
the wall, smaller than the one in the fence outside. It hadn’t been
easy dragging the dead weight of Carly’s body through the hole last
night, but traveling alone now, it was a snap to get in. There were
more animal droppings and water damage on the wooden planks strewn
around the neglected floor. Dominating the room was an abandoned stage,
where in Asbury Park’s heyday, so many popular acts had performed. It
was now overgrown with brambles and littered with tar sheeting. Moss
covered the long benches where fans once sat and cheered the summertime
entertainment.

Rusted metal wagon-wheel-style chandeliers
hung from the iron rafters. A thin shaft of light sifted through a hole
in the roof. Strange. It almost seemed to point the way to the old
refreshment counter, the place that was now Carly’s hellhole.

If
was essential that everything be done
just so. Carly must go through the routine. It had been almost
twenty-four hours
since she’d
been abducted and imprisoned. Now it was time to
cut the
plastic flex cuffs that bound Carly’s ankles. It was time for her first
dance
.

Carly couldn’t see a thing, but she could hear just fine. Too well.
She listened as the creature approached, shuffling through the debris.
As the sounds grew closer, Carly couldn’t tell if they were made by an
animal or a man. She wasn’t sure which would be worse.

She could feel her heart beating through her chest wall, reacting to
the adrenaline shooting through her body. Her head was still throbbing,
her wrists were sore and raw from whatever bound them. She tried to
concentrate on her breathing, only able to take air in through her nose
because the gag covered her mouth.

The footsteps stopped right beside her. A sliver of brightness
slipped in through the thin opening at the bottom of Carly’s blindfold. It must be a human being, who’d
turned on the lights.

Carly felt tugging at her ankles and could feel the bonds slip off.
Then her arm was gently grabbed and pulled upward. Maybe he was going
to let her go.

She worked at getting to her feet, feeling dizzy and struggling to
maintain her balance. Unable to make a sound, and not knowing what else
to do, Carly stood and waited for what was coming next.

Hope was replaced with terror as the caressing began.

She wasn’t sure how long it went on. A minute? Ten? Half an hour? It
seemed like an eternity. Something smooth brushed back and forth across
her cheeks and up and down her bare arms. Was it leather? A gloved hand?

And then a body pressed itself against hers and nudged her to move.
Carly’s hands were still bound, but she felt the fabric-covered arms
wrap around her bare ones. She could hear soft swishing. Was that the
sound of nylon rubbing against nylon? The sound ski pants made when
they rubbed together as you walked through the snow?

As her tormentor’s body started to rock to the rhythm of the tide,
pulsing in and pulsing out, Carly’s body automatically followed the
lead. But she let her mind go to another place, trying to recall what
it had been like to go sledding and make snowmen.

SUNDAY
AUGUST 21

She opened her eyes and reached out for her watch on the table next
to the bed. Diane was stunned to see it was almost ten o’clock and to
realize that she’d slept soundly through the night.

She and Matthew had agreed that he would check with the police in
the morning and then call her around noon to make their plans for the
day. If there was anything to shoot earlier than that, Matthew and the
crew would cover it. That left her two hours to spend with the kids.

Turning over, Diane watched her sister, still asleep in the twin bed
beside her. She thanked God again that she had Em with them this week.

Trying to make as little noise as possible, Diane got out of the bed
and pulled on her thin summer robe. Rummaging through her suitcase, she
found the pair of terry-cloth slippers and put them on. Treading
softly, she crossed the room and opened the door to the hallway. On her
way to the bathroom, she noticed that the door to Michelle’s room was
ajar.

She knocked softly and poked her head through the doorway.
“Michelle?” she called gently.

The room was empty, but it looked liked a tornado had swept through
it. A suitcase lay open, its contents spilling over the sides. Clothes
were strewn across the floor and unmade bed. Michelle’s bottles of
shampoos, conditioners, and creams were spread out over the dresser,
and her CDs and DVDs lay in a jumbled mess on the night table. Diane
shook her head and sighed. How had her daughter managed to wreak such
havoc in such a short time?

And where was she?

Hoping that she wouldn’t run into anyone but driven to go anyway,
Diane started down the stairs. No one was in the lobby, or in the
parlor. But Carlos and another man were in the dining room, arranging
food and flowers on the buffet table.

“Excuse me,” Diane said.

The men turned. Carlos smiled broadly. “Good morning, Ms. Mayfield.”

“Diane. Please.”

“Okay, Diane.” Carlos turned in the direction of the other man.
“Diane, this is my partner, Kip.”

“Nice to meet you,” Diane said as she pulled her robe closer around
herself. “I’m not usually out prowling around a public place in my
bathrobe, but I’m looking for my daughter.”

“I haven’t seen her yet this morning,” said Carlos.

“Is she about thirteen or fourteen, brown hair, very thin?” asked
Kip.

Diane nodded, wincing inwardly at the last description.

“Then I saw her leave about a half hour ago. She had shorts and
sneakers on and had a Walkman with her. I just assumed that she was
going for a run.”

By the time Diane went back upstairs, showered, brushed her teeth,
and returned to the room to dress, Emily was awake.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Her sister stretched out in the bed and sighed. “Oh, that felt good.
If this is any indication of how the sleeping is going to be down here,
I’m glad I came.”

Diane pulled a black Donna Karan T-shirt over her head. “Want to
come downstairs with me for some breakfast? I smelled something good
cooking.”

“Are the kids awake already?” Emily showed no signs of rising.

“Anthony is still sleeping, but Michelle’s up and out already. I
think she went for a run.” Zipping up her white slacks, she added, “Em,
can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“It’s about Michelle.” Diane swallowed. “Do you think she could have
an eating disorder?”

Emily shifted her pillows and propped herself up. “God, Diane. I
hadn’t really thought about it.”

Diane recounted her observations. The uneaten garlic bread, the
barely touched pizza, the loss of interest in what were once her
favorite foods. “She’s been exercising like crazy, too, and it looks to
me like she’s lost some weight.”

Emily was silent for a moment as she considered her sister’s words.
When she finally answered, Diane felt a bit better.

“Yeah, all that might be true,” Emily said. “But do you remember
when you were that age? All the competition to be the prettiest and
have the best figure? Heck, that never changes. I think Michelle could
just be responding to the pressures of being a female in our society.
Does that mean she has an eating disorder? I doubt it, Diane.”

“God, I hope you’re right, Em. I hope you’re right.”

Wanting to get the local version of what was happening, Matthew
stopped at Ocean Grove Stationery on Main Avenue to buy a copy of the
Asbury Park Press
.
He especially
needed to find out where Carly Neath had been babysitting the night she
disappeared. That was an element they hadn’t had time to pay attention
to for the piece last night but something
they’d definitely need for the
Hourglass
segment. The police had refused to provide that information at
their news conference, but local reporters had their own
sources—sources that a journalist just coming
into town couldn’t possibly match. Matthew was hoping that the
Asbury Park Press
reporter had done
some of his work for him.

He stood on the sidewalk in front of the candy store and read the
front-page article. Sure enough, it revealed that Carly had been
babysitting for the Richey family, summer residents who lived in one of
the tents on Bath Avenue. The information excited Matthew, because he
knew that not only were the tents visually
attractive but their story would be an interesting sidebar.

He continued to read, discovering that Carly also worked as a
waitress at Nagle’s Apothecary Cafe. That was the place on the corner
of Main, not so far from the beach. He’d noticed it yesterday on his
way back to the motel. It was within walking distance now. It was worth
trying to see if he could talk with anyone who knew Carly.