2 Dancing With Death Read Online Free PDF

doors twenty feet tall and be greeted with the sight of just such a ball. Even with everything blurry, Betty could see the elegance all around her.
         The room was easily the size of two large basketball courts, but there was no set of bleachers and far too much gilt paint for anyone to mistake the room for a gym. A chandelier hung in the middle of the ceiling: a behemoth of rainbows and shininess that shed light over all below, rendering the lit sconces along the wall all but useless. The chandelier looked like it belonged in an opera house, not a hotel in the middle of nowhere high in the mountains of North Carolina.
         And then there were the people. A string quartet playing on the far right end of the ballroom provided the music, and dancers crowded the ballroom floor. They twirled and glided in a beautiful cacophony of blurry gowns and suits, jeans and sundresses. The competition started tomorrow, so tonight was just for fun. But these people had come to North Carolina to dance, and so dance they did. There were dancers of all ages, all different heights and weights, ranging all across the various skill levels. There were couples who looked like modern Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaires, moving surefooted and gracefully across the floor and between the other dancers as though they were extensions of each other, and couples who fumbled along, laughing when one partner stepped on the other’s toes.  
         Along the walls tables with punch, snacks, desserts, and registration information had been set up. People stood in small groups and pairs, chatting softly as they sipped cool beverages. To the left of the entrance, directly after the registration table, was the prize table. Policemen stood at attention on both sides of the table. While Wes and Clarise went to register, Betty and Bill went to investigate. As they approached the table and the prizes went from blurry to in focus, Betty realized why it was closely guarded.
         The grand prize was… well, grand. Grand as in huge, gaudy, and ridiculously valuable. On a pedestal, right in the center of the table, sat a huge silver loving cup filled with $100,000 in cash. As though the cash itself wasn’t enough, the cup was smattered with jewels and imprinted gold designs. A plaque at the base of the cup was engraved with the names of the past grand prize winners, the dates and names stretching back and back for decades. A sign in front of the cup read:

         The Loving Cup is a time honored tradition of the Legacy Trust Competition, dating back to its founding in 1924.   The Loving Cup represents the value, glory, and pride of the Legacy Trust Competition, and symbolizes the legacy of dancing that winners are entrusted to carry on. Though attempts to steal the Loving Cup have occurred, all thefts have been foiled, and each year the reigning champions have followed through in their trust by returning to the next year’s competition to pass on the cup and participate in the championship event.

         Although reigning champions are not eligible to compete, they must put on a dance exhibition and teach one free class on the dance of their choice to all who are interested, ensuring that the Legacy of Ballroom Dancing continues.

         “That’s pretty amazing,” Bill murmured. “That it’s been returned every year for so long.” He nodded to the policeman to their left. “I’m glad I’m not on duty here. Every petty thief looking to make a name for themselves must see this as the Golden Fleece of robberies.”
         Betty gestured to the cup. “Look at it,” she said, matching Bill’s low tone. “Who would ever want to steal that? It’s not like you could ever sell it. It’d be too easy to trace. Besides,” she continued when Bill looked ready to debate her point, “I’m sure the owners are more than happy to bring it back. Would you want that monstrosity sitting in your living room for more than a year?”