Dying for a Dance Read Online Free PDF Page A

him in a sharp tone.
    “All they talk is gibberish. I can't figure out a thing they're saying. How am I supposed to know if they're telling the truth or not?”
    The deputy once again reinforced my low opinion of him. I felt like telling him off, but decided it would be wiser to keep my comments to myself. In the few weeks that I'd taken lessons in the studio, I had discovered that the professional Russian dancers were smart, funny, and ferociously loyal to their friends.
    Tom looked fried, but who could blame him? In less than two hours, he'd contended with a murder, a birth, death threats, and an ex-girlfriend. Tom motioned for Deputy Buzz Cut to follow him out of earshot of Dana and myself. She tapped her right foot while maintaining her graceful posture, either the result of her ballroom dance training, or twenty plus years of community service.
    This was probably the only opportunity I would have to chat with her alone. “Do you compete, Dana?”
    She nodded. “A few years ago when our youngest entered college, I experienced empty nest syndrome. One night when I was watching Dancing with the Stars , I thought, why not? I certainly wasn't getting any younger. I took tap and ballet as a kid, but I'd always wanted to learn how to ballroom dance.
    “You don't need to spread this around the office,” Dana grinned at me, “but Gordon isn't exactly light on his feet. He has as much rhythm as a grizzly bear.”
    I visualized the portly president lumbering through the office. “I guess you don't need rhythm to run a successful bank, do you?”
    “No, all you need is...” It must have dawned on Dana that she was fraternizing with the staff because she suddenly clammed up and started rummaging through her purse.
    I glanced over at El Dorado County's finest. Deputy Kat-zenbach's expression had changed from frazzled to furious. The deputy squared his shoulders then strode to the back of the studio.
    Tom turned back to Dana. “Mrs. Chandler, I'll contact you tomorrow regarding those warnings the victim received.” He reached into the pocket of his charcoal slacks and pulled out a business card. “If you remember anything else, please call me at once. My cell number is on this card.”
    “Thank you, Detective. Dimitri's death is a tragic event and I will do anything in my power to help you. As will my husband, of course. As President of Hangtown Bank, he has tremendous resources.” She slipped the detective's card into an oversized Prada handbag that didn't look like it had been purchased from a street vendor, and gracefully exited the studio.
    “So...dare I ask why Deputy Katzenbach looks so annoyed?” I asked the detective.
    Tom grinned and my heart rate ratcheted up a few notches. The detective's presence was having a greater impact on my emotions than discovering Dimitri's body. I wasn't sure what that meant, other than I was more accustomed to dealing with dead bodies than lovers.
    “Since the heel of your shoe was in the victim's mouth, Katzenbach decided you're guilty.”
    I blanched. “What do you think?” I asked, my voice barely audible.
    “You're still a suspect but you aren't the only one.” His expression was weary as he pointed to the remaining dancers waiting to be interviewed. “Not to mention the killer could have taken off before you found the body.”
    “Are you going to interview everyone here tonight?” Given the Russian dancers’ volubility and poor English, the interview process could turn into an all-nighter. I glanced at the instructors. Marcus fidgeted in his chair, twirling his dark ponytail in his hands. Bobby sat next to him, solemn and watchful. Yuri and Anya had switched from the seductive rhumba to a paso doble, far more suitable to the somber atmosphere in the studio. Dancing must provide a way for them to cope with the recent tragedy.
    “Our goal is to interview every one of them.” Tom sighed, undoubtedly thinking of the long night ahead for him.
    “What about