“And young,” Olivia said. “The way Ida described the incident, it didn’t sound like a typical mugging. Think about it, the man grabbed the dancer and lifted her off her feet.”
“So you think this woman might not be Raoul’s wife? But Livie, all those costumes you described to me, they must have been Lara’s from the roles she danced with the Royal Winnipeg Ballet.”
“I’m sure they are,” Olivia said, “but . . . like mother, like daughter?”
“Raoul and Lara’s daughter.... I wonder. Pregnancy would certainly explain Lara’s interrupted career.” Maddie twisted a lid on the icing container she’d been working on and sat at her laptop. “There are a lot of ballet fanatics out there. It’s hard to believe one of them wouldn’t have uncovered the fact that Lara had a daughter. And said daughter must have trained as a ballerina. Let me check her bio again.” She typed in Lara Larssen and selected Wikipedia. Skimming the brief biography, Maddie said, “Sketchy. I’m surprised her ardent fans haven’t filled in more details, but it happens all the time.”
“Exactly,” Olivia said. “Internet information can be wrong and full of holes. Someone would have to hunt down official and private documents to locate birth certificates and medical records. If there was no public notice, like a newspaper obituary, even finding a death could take a lot of effort. Lara only danced professionally for two years. Maybe those ardent ballet fans didn’t think she was all that interesting.”
“Point taken,” Maddie said. “The Internet is less than godlike. Maybe the dancer is Lara and Raoul’s daughter, but where does that get us? If Raoul is drugging her whenever he leaves the studio, we won’t be able to talk to her. It seems like an awful risk for not much gain.”
Olivia felt suddenly lightheaded and realized she had been hyperventilating. She’d already gotten away with sneaking into Raoul’s living quarters, but she’d had all day to do it, and no one had been home. Now there was a good chance someone would be there, and their time would be short. She’d be dragging Maddie into danger, too. They might be caught, even arrested. Del would never forgive her. Then Olivia thought of Jason, her baby brother, being carted off in shackles, standing trial for murder. She wished she hadn’t mentioned anything to Maddie. Luckily, she hadn’t yet revealed her real reason for wanting to get into the dance studio again—Raoul’s little private office upstairs. She was willing to bet he had records in there somewhere.
“You’re right,” Olivia said. “We’d be taking a big risk for little or no gain. I’ll give Constance her key back tomorrow. Meanwhile, let’s finish these cookies and get a good night’s sleep for once.”
They finished by two thirty Friday morning. Olivia sent Maddie home, left the kitchen a mess, and checked the store locks. A sleepy Yorkie snuggled against her chest as she lumbered up the stairs to her apartment. She told herself that leaving Maddie out was the best decision. She wouldn’t have much time to search through Raoul’s papers, if indeed she could find any helpful documents, but she’d do what she could. If she got caught, so be it. Her baby brother was worth the risk.
Chapter Eighteen
Promptly at five forty-five Friday morning, after less than three hours of fitful sleep, Olivia gave Spunky extra food and a hug. She locked her apartment door, leaving behind her whining pet. Halfway down the stairs, she realized something was amiss in the foyer. She could see light streaming from the entrance to The Gingerbread House. She was already keyed up. A break-in at the store was the last thing she needed. She eased down the steps, mentally preparing herself for whatever disaster awaited. A light thump-rattle sound came from inside the store, like someone bumping into a display table. Olivia froze five steps from the bottom of the stairs and reached into her jeans pocket for her cell.
“I thought those stealthy steps might be you.” Maddie’s face peeked around the doorjamb. “Cutting it a little close, aren’t we?” She wore black jeans and a black T-shirt. Her bright red hair hid underneath a large beret. Black, of course. “What, you thought you could sneak off on an adventure without me? Please. I’ve known you too long to fall for your feeble effort to pretend you’d changed your mind. I could tell the moment you decided to go it alone. So come on, we need to be hiding outside the dance studio in time to see Raoul leave for Mass. Otherwise, we can’t be sure he’s gone.”
Olivia heaved a dramatic sigh. “Oh, Maddie, Maddie, Maddie. You’re my best friend, and you are totally nuts.”
“If that’s your way of admitting you can’t outsmart me, then apology accepted. Now, let’s get a move on.”
Maddie turned off the store light while Olivia poked her head out the front door. Except for one car, the town square looked deserted. That wouldn’t last long. Business owners would begin arriving anytime after six a.m., especially for the two restaurants, which opened at seven. “Let’s go out the back,” Olivia said. “I wish I’d thought this out better, but I was dead tired last night.”
“Not to worry,” Maddie said. “I’m at my best when I’m winging it. You did remember the key, right?”
Olivia felt the shape of it in her pocket. “Present and accounted for. That much I planned.”
They slipped into the empty alley behind The Gingerbread House. “Good thing it isn’t garbage day,” Olivia whispered. “Let’s go behind the stores instead of down Willow Road, then we can cut through that little park across the street from the dance studio.”
“Good idea,” Maddie said. “No one uses that park much, and it’s got lots of trees. Try to look like we’re out for an early morning walk, in case some obsessive store owner decided to arrive early to do inventory or something. You never know.”
Olivia and Maddie walked with brisk casualness down the alley behind the stores on the east side of the town square. They’d encountered no one by the time they reached the park that stretched for a block from Hickory Road to Willow Road. The wooded area wasn’t really a park, simply a large lot that had gone wild after two small houses burned down decades earlier.
Once they’d decided on a spot to hide and watch for Raoul to leave for Mass, Maddie asked, “What if he takes the back door?”
“No reason he would,” Olivia said. “Constance said he goes to St. Francis, which is on south Park Street. The greater danger is he might cut through these woods.”
“That’s so comforting.”
“That’s why we’re staying on the north edge.” Across the dance floor, Olivia saw a light flick on in the office at the rear of the studio. Instinctively, she drew back behind a tree, yanking Maddie with her.
“Ow,” Maddie whispered. “I think you dislocated my shoulder.”
“Sorry. Look, there’s Raoul in that little room at the back.” Within seconds, the light went out. For several moments, the dance floor looked deserted. Olivia moved out of cover of the tree to see better. “I think he did go out the back,” she said, cursing herself for overconfidence.
“No, I can see him,” Maddie said. “The front door is opening.” This time it was she who strong-armed Olivia out of sight.
Dressed in a light gray suit, Raoul looked exotically handsome. He glanced up and down the street before he crossed the lawn and walked to the north side of the studio. Maddie groaned. “Oh geez, what now? He’s supposed to go south.”
Olivia shifted several trees over to get a better view of the studio’s north side. She saw Raoul pause and look up at the top floor. “I think he’s checking at our ballerina’s window. Maybe he wants to be sure she’s asleep, not watching for him to leave.”
“Do you think he left her room unlocked?” Maddie asked. “We might be able to talk to her.”
“He’s leaving. I wonder if he was worried she hadn’t swallowed those pills I saw next to her bed. Okay, he’s out of sight, time to rumba.” Olivia glanced up and down Willow Road. “No cars,” she said. “This is a quiet area, thank goodness. Let’s double back to the end of the block and go up the alley in back of the studio.”