Read 2 Dancing With Death for Free Online
Authors: Liz Marvin
cougar, make no mistake.”
Betty raised her eyebrows. “Really?” she asked. The woman laughed bitterly.
“Oh yes,” she said. “She’ll take anything she wants, and to Hell with anyone else.” She gestured with her almost empty wine glass. “She stole my partner didn’t she? Stole him, used him to win a national championship, and dumped him like hot coals when he hurt his ankle.” She shook her head. “Poor sod never knew what hit him. Of course,” she continued, “I took him back. I couldn’t say no, could I? I loved the fool. I spent my best dancing years hearing people say that I was partnered with that woman’s castoffs. And you know what the worst thing is?” the woman asked, looking at them with a slightly glazed expression. “They were right.” She paused, blinking. “Who are you?”
Betty tried not to laugh. The woman was obviously plastered beyond belief and making a fool of herself, but at the same time she seemed so… pathetic. Betty wanted to walk her up to her room and get her into bed with a cool cloth on her head, before she did or said something that she’d truly regret. At the same time, Betty reminded herself that this woman was obviously an adult. She couldn’t go around treating strange grown women like children. So, instead of steering the woman to a chair and talking her into leaving the party, Betty stuck out her hand.
“Betty Crawford,” she said. “And you are?”
The woman blinked at them. “Mary O’Connor,” she said. “Didn’t you already know that?”
Betty shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said, confused. “Have we met?”
Mary threw up her hands. “No respect!” she muttered as she walked unsteadily away. “Dancing for forty years, and I get no respect. Not with her here. No respect.”
It was a long moment before Bill broke the silence. “And there goes a woman scorned.” He shook his head. “It should’ve been funny, but…”
Betty nodded in understanding. “She was so sad.”
“Well,” Clarise said. “I don’t believe it! Miss Knolhart would never do something like that!”
Looking back at the Loving Cup and the enormous cash prize within, Betty wasn’t too sure. This was only one competition, and $100,000 was a lot of money. People had been known to manipulate or even kill for far less of a prize. She said as much to Clarise, who glared at her.
“If you have to see criminals wherever you go, that’s your problem,” she said scathingly. “Me, I prefer to believe that people are innocent until proven guilty. Or did you forget that I was framed for murder?” Betty started to protest that this wasn’t the same, but Clarise glared her into silence. “One person’s dislike for Miss Knolhart isn’t proof, and you know it. Now,” she said, visibly forcing herself to relax and smile. “I believe there’s dancing!” She grabbed Wes’s arm and pulled him towards the dance floor, laughing as he twirled her. Betty watched them melt into the couples whirling about to the quartet.
She looked again at the beautiful room. For an instant, the whole atmosphere felt just as distasteful and pretentious as the loving cup prize, and Betty’s skin crawled with apprehension.
CHAPTER 7
Bill stayed to chat with the policemen on duty while Betty went to get them drinks. It turned out that the police were actually novice state patrolmen. Their attendance was more of a formality than a law enforcement presence. It turned out that they had trained at the same police academy as Bill, and the three had plenty to talk about.
After the stress of the drive, and then the work of beautification, Betty needed something cold to drink. As she walked, Betty couldn’t shake the feeling that all was not as it seemed in the dance competition. The people on the sidelines, far from the amicable observers she had first
Betty raised her eyebrows. “Really?” she asked. The woman laughed bitterly.
“Oh yes,” she said. “She’ll take anything she wants, and to Hell with anyone else.” She gestured with her almost empty wine glass. “She stole my partner didn’t she? Stole him, used him to win a national championship, and dumped him like hot coals when he hurt his ankle.” She shook her head. “Poor sod never knew what hit him. Of course,” she continued, “I took him back. I couldn’t say no, could I? I loved the fool. I spent my best dancing years hearing people say that I was partnered with that woman’s castoffs. And you know what the worst thing is?” the woman asked, looking at them with a slightly glazed expression. “They were right.” She paused, blinking. “Who are you?”
Betty tried not to laugh. The woman was obviously plastered beyond belief and making a fool of herself, but at the same time she seemed so… pathetic. Betty wanted to walk her up to her room and get her into bed with a cool cloth on her head, before she did or said something that she’d truly regret. At the same time, Betty reminded herself that this woman was obviously an adult. She couldn’t go around treating strange grown women like children. So, instead of steering the woman to a chair and talking her into leaving the party, Betty stuck out her hand.
“Betty Crawford,” she said. “And you are?”
The woman blinked at them. “Mary O’Connor,” she said. “Didn’t you already know that?”
Betty shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said, confused. “Have we met?”
Mary threw up her hands. “No respect!” she muttered as she walked unsteadily away. “Dancing for forty years, and I get no respect. Not with her here. No respect.”
It was a long moment before Bill broke the silence. “And there goes a woman scorned.” He shook his head. “It should’ve been funny, but…”
Betty nodded in understanding. “She was so sad.”
“Well,” Clarise said. “I don’t believe it! Miss Knolhart would never do something like that!”
Looking back at the Loving Cup and the enormous cash prize within, Betty wasn’t too sure. This was only one competition, and $100,000 was a lot of money. People had been known to manipulate or even kill for far less of a prize. She said as much to Clarise, who glared at her.
“If you have to see criminals wherever you go, that’s your problem,” she said scathingly. “Me, I prefer to believe that people are innocent until proven guilty. Or did you forget that I was framed for murder?” Betty started to protest that this wasn’t the same, but Clarise glared her into silence. “One person’s dislike for Miss Knolhart isn’t proof, and you know it. Now,” she said, visibly forcing herself to relax and smile. “I believe there’s dancing!” She grabbed Wes’s arm and pulled him towards the dance floor, laughing as he twirled her. Betty watched them melt into the couples whirling about to the quartet.
She looked again at the beautiful room. For an instant, the whole atmosphere felt just as distasteful and pretentious as the loving cup prize, and Betty’s skin crawled with apprehension.
CHAPTER 7
Bill stayed to chat with the policemen on duty while Betty went to get them drinks. It turned out that the police were actually novice state patrolmen. Their attendance was more of a formality than a law enforcement presence. It turned out that they had trained at the same police academy as Bill, and the three had plenty to talk about.
After the stress of the drive, and then the work of beautification, Betty needed something cold to drink. As she walked, Betty couldn’t shake the feeling that all was not as it seemed in the dance competition. The people on the sidelines, far from the amicable observers she had first