“What can you say to perfection?” he began, then answered himself. “Bravo and brava! And to Miss Tatyana”—he turned to see her standing, subdued for once, in the wings—“let’s have her step into view for a round of applause. She choreographed the most superbly sexy tango I have ever seen.”
Applause and shouts erupted.
“And,” Danny added, “though the audience and judges were unaware of it, I’ve been told that Matt was recovering from blood loss from a previous attack with a knife in the wee hours this morning, but he and Tatyana were able to still stage an unbelievable routine.
“As for the dancers, you completely gave yourselves over to your roles. You were precise, you were edgy, you embraced the music even more intimately than you embraced each other. You gave us an incredible experience. Ten.”
Leander Brock was silent for a long, dramatic moment. “I confess that my emotions have been through a buzz saw. To go from the thrill of watching . . . no, experiencing such a dazzling tango, to the life-and-death struggle that followed on this stage . . . to think that an event designed to raise money for deathly ill children might have resulted in someone’s death on this very stage, it’s too much for me. I can only thank God and second Danny. Ten.”
Savannah too seemed as subdued as Tatyana. Then she threw her score cards on the floor at Matt and Olivia’s feet.
“You two are off the charts. I’d give you a fifteen if I could. That was Oscar-worthy acting and entertainment. And Matt, honestly, I thought you were too nice to win this thing. Dirty dancing is where it’s at these days. But you were amazingly, sizzlingly, devilishly, almost X-rated naughty in that dance and I loved it! Tell me you haven’t sold your soul to the Devil, because I’d sure like to be next in line for it.”
She smiled at Olivia. “Sistah, you give all us seasoned ladies hope! What about those sexy flicks and splits? Have you been possessed by the ghost of that leggy legend, Cyd Charisse, who just left us not too long ago? Like Fred Astaire said of her decades ago, you were ‘beautiful dynamite’ in that tango. Ten with whipped cream on top, because you two got me in a lather.”
The standing ovation lasted for two minutes.
Danny nodded at Temple and held out a sealed envelope.
The mike was shaking in her hands and her knees were trembling. She faced the audience but her eye was on the floor director, who nodded encouragingly and held up two fingers. Two minutes to go. Two minutes to fill. She wanted to rush backstage and hear what Hank Buck had confessed to. He was just now probably reaching the euphoric spill stage.
“I have to admit that I am not up to the usual Zoe Chloe Ozone speed right now,” she began. “The events tonight have been too awesome, as have been everyone on this stage, cast and crew, including the security and law enforcement personnel who averted a tragedy I would tend to take very personally no matter what had happened.”
The audience laughed lightly, easing tension.
She smiled. “It’s appropriate that we honor first the winner of the junior competition, for this show was produced to raise hope for the young. The scholarship will benefit . . .”
She struggled to open the thick paper of the envelope while holding the mike.
“Would you believe my hands are shaking?” she asked the audience during the lull.
More laughter and applause.
“The scholarship will benefit”—now her voice went shaky—“Patrisha Peters.”
Shrieks from offstage brought an ecstatic Patrisha and her partner Brandon running to Temple and the mike.
“Thank you all so much,” Patrisha said, in tears. “This has been the best experience of my life and, gosh, dancing with a Los Hermanos Brother was the coolest thing in the world.”
The other Hermanos brothers and the girl contestants and their mothers came running on stage to surround the winning couple, with the judges soon joining them and the adult contestants streaming out from backstage to surround and embrace Olivia and Matt.
Temple stood alone at the mike watching the floor director’s two spread hands, the fingers counting down from ten.
“And so we thank you all for your generous votes and will meet one more time tomorrow to name the winning Dancing With the Celeb stars. Same time, same place, and same cast, thank God.”
Danny came up to hug Zoe Chloe just as the final little finger folded into the director’s palm and he beamed at Temple for her perfect timing.
Even the audience came streaming down onto the stage now, dazed and happy and emotionally drained.
“Oh, Danny,” Temple said, finally allowing tears of relief and joy to saturate his shoulder. “Thanks for getting me through this. I was so out of character at the end. I just couldn’t conjure Zoe Chloe.”
“You did it just right. Zee Cee will be back tomorrow all sass and savvy. After all, she’s going to be the sole MC, if she wants to be. Buchanan is history on this show. Matt and Olivia are mobbed right now, but I bet you want to catch up with your police ‘posse’ backstage, so let’s slip away and let you do what you do best, unravel this conspiracy.”
“Yes, please.”
Dial M for Motive
Molina intercepted them outside the greenroom, which was now a temporary police interrogation room.
“He’s not happily hostile yet. It’s hard to tell how much he’s had and how fast it worked,” she told them, as Danny slipped away to return to the love fest on stage.
“But I’m not too late?” Temple said. “I didn’t miss anything?”
“This show hasn’t started yet. But this is the guy.”
“Why would anyone hate Matt that much?” Temple asked.
“A teensy bit prejudiced, are we?” Molina asked in turn, as Rafi joined them. But she smiled.
“It’s a legitimate question,” Temple insisted. “This guy is a local. The only thing vaguely aggressive Matt did since coming to town was to track down his stepfather. So this Hank Buck was a friend of that scumball? Really? I can’t believe that. Cliff Effinger didn’t have any friends. Whoever tied him to the bow of the pirate ship at the Treasure Island so he drowned could not have been Matt. If that was anything, it was a hit.
“And another thing,” Temple added. “What about the Barbie Doll Killer? Could Hank Buck be it?”
“I doubt it,” Molina said. “I can’t deal with that issue here and now, but I have a nasty suspicion that I’m gonna get on ASAP. Right now why Buck wanted to kill Matt is a priority.
“My detectives are even now breaking down Buck’s bio like he was Lee Harvey Oswald,” Molina said. “They’re going to his neighbors, his car mechanic, anyone. If there’s a connection to Matt, they’ll find it. Two attempts at murder must have a powerful motive behind them.” She looked over her shoulder to Mariah’s father. “He was one of yours.”
Rafi shook his head. “He was one of yours first. That was on his application that my people pulled. He was hired here before I was, but before that he was on the force. We found no record of dishonorable discharge. Your detectives are trying to find out why he quit the force. He was seeing the department psychologist, but those records are protected.”
“Not for long. Either way,” Molina said, “he was one bad cop, public or private. Why’d he target this event and these people?”
“That’s sure what I wonder,” a new voice said.
They all turned, shocked to see that Matt had joined them, and doubly shocked by the sight of his current tough-guy tango image.
“I finally escaped my fans,” he said. “I want to know why this guy almost killed me and Temple. I don’t see a reason.”
“I don’t see it, either,” Rafi admitted. “It’d make more sense if one of the celebrity dancers who was a victim of dirty tricks was the murder target. I can see it being Motha Jonz. Buck could have been hired to off her by the gangsta rappers, say, whoever Motha Jonz was involved with at the time of the Vegas shoot-out. I could see using the dance show to do that.”