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Authors: Nancy J. Cohen
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retorted.
"Did he mention what happened to my client Jolene, by any chance?"
Brianna swiveled her head to regard Marla with a sneer. “If he did, I wouldn't tell you. Dad confides in me because I can keep secrets."
"I can, too, if he'd trust me,” Marla murmured. Brianna's response was a scornful sniff.
When they arrived at the dance studio, Brianna hopped out of the car before Marla had a chance to turn off the ignition. After locking the doors, she stumbled after the girl toward a row of shops. Peals of laughter cascaded from inside the well-lit studio, where students in all age ranges bustled between classes.
"I'm supposed to pay a costume deposit,” Marla said to the receptionist, peering through the crowd for Brianna, who had disappeared toward a set of classrooms.
"What's the child's name?” the woman asked with a friendly smile.
"Brianna Vail."
"Brianna is in both of my classes,” crooned a voice at Marla's ear.
Marla whirled about, astonished to see Lindsay Trotter, Dancercize instructor for Perfect Fit Sports Club. “You're a teacher here, too?” she blurted.
The sleek blonde, attired in a black leotard, smiled. “It's what I do. Haven't I met you somewhere recently? You're not Brianna's mother, are you?"
Marla's face colored. “No, I'm a friend of her father. She needed a ride tonight, so I offered to take her to class. My friend Tally and I belong to the sports club where you teach Dancercize."
The green eyes widened. “Oh yes, I remember. That was your first time on Sunday. I hope you'll be back again tomorrow."
"We'll try. Brianna said I need to pay a deposit tonight."
"Judy will help you,” Lindsay said, gesturing to the receptionist. “Pull Brianna Vail's card, will you?” she ordered. “I've got to get my class started. Nice seeing you.” Waving at Marla, Lindsay scooted off.
From inside the nearest classroom, Marla heard the instructor's clear voice ring out: “Dip your shoes in the resin, girls, so you don't slip and slide. Come on, now! We'll start with our pliés. Take positions at the bar, please.” Strains of Tchaikovsky floated through the air.
"Your deposit for each class is fifty-three dollars,” said the receptionist.
"How much?” Marla's eyes bulged.
"Brianna's costumes cost a hundred and sixty dollars each including tax, so we're asking you to pay a third,” the woman explained.
"That's exorbitant,” Marla grumbled, retrieving her checkbook. Writing a check for $106 would deplete her account considerably. Maybe she should stop off at the police station and ask Vail for reimbursement. He might have time to take a coffee break while she was there, too.
Still shaking her head at the expense, which didn't even include the price of recital tickets, Marla approached the glass-enclosed front office of the Palm Haven Police Department.
"I'm Marla Shore, here to see Lieutenant Vail."
A few minutes later, she was given a visitor's badge and told to proceed through a door that unlatched as she approached. “I know the way,” she told the female officer who greeted her.
Upstairs and to the right, she entered the detective division. Vail's private office was beside a row of cubicles where his subordinates worked. He stood up on catching sight of her and strode to her side.
"Is everything all right? Did you take Brianna to class?"
She glanced at his worried gray eyes and patted his arm. “Yes, I dropped her off and paid her costume deposit to the amount of a hundred and six dollars. I thought I'd drop by and see if you were free for coffee. I don't have to pick her up until ten."
His expression softened, and he gazed at her appreciatively. Her heart quickened at his proximity. “Thanks, Marla,” he said quietly. “I knew I could count on you."
Straightening his broad shoulders, he marched to his desk and withdrew a checkbook from a drawer. “Let's settle our account before I forget.” While he scribbled the check, she let her gaze roam his tall frame. He'd
"Did he mention what happened to my client Jolene, by any chance?"
Brianna swiveled her head to regard Marla with a sneer. “If he did, I wouldn't tell you. Dad confides in me because I can keep secrets."
"I can, too, if he'd trust me,” Marla murmured. Brianna's response was a scornful sniff.
When they arrived at the dance studio, Brianna hopped out of the car before Marla had a chance to turn off the ignition. After locking the doors, she stumbled after the girl toward a row of shops. Peals of laughter cascaded from inside the well-lit studio, where students in all age ranges bustled between classes.
"I'm supposed to pay a costume deposit,” Marla said to the receptionist, peering through the crowd for Brianna, who had disappeared toward a set of classrooms.
"What's the child's name?” the woman asked with a friendly smile.
"Brianna Vail."
"Brianna is in both of my classes,” crooned a voice at Marla's ear.
Marla whirled about, astonished to see Lindsay Trotter, Dancercize instructor for Perfect Fit Sports Club. “You're a teacher here, too?” she blurted.
The sleek blonde, attired in a black leotard, smiled. “It's what I do. Haven't I met you somewhere recently? You're not Brianna's mother, are you?"
Marla's face colored. “No, I'm a friend of her father. She needed a ride tonight, so I offered to take her to class. My friend Tally and I belong to the sports club where you teach Dancercize."
The green eyes widened. “Oh yes, I remember. That was your first time on Sunday. I hope you'll be back again tomorrow."
"We'll try. Brianna said I need to pay a deposit tonight."
"Judy will help you,” Lindsay said, gesturing to the receptionist. “Pull Brianna Vail's card, will you?” she ordered. “I've got to get my class started. Nice seeing you.” Waving at Marla, Lindsay scooted off.
From inside the nearest classroom, Marla heard the instructor's clear voice ring out: “Dip your shoes in the resin, girls, so you don't slip and slide. Come on, now! We'll start with our pliés. Take positions at the bar, please.” Strains of Tchaikovsky floated through the air.
"Your deposit for each class is fifty-three dollars,” said the receptionist.
"How much?” Marla's eyes bulged.
"Brianna's costumes cost a hundred and sixty dollars each including tax, so we're asking you to pay a third,” the woman explained.
"That's exorbitant,” Marla grumbled, retrieving her checkbook. Writing a check for $106 would deplete her account considerably. Maybe she should stop off at the police station and ask Vail for reimbursement. He might have time to take a coffee break while she was there, too.
Still shaking her head at the expense, which didn't even include the price of recital tickets, Marla approached the glass-enclosed front office of the Palm Haven Police Department.
"I'm Marla Shore, here to see Lieutenant Vail."
A few minutes later, she was given a visitor's badge and told to proceed through a door that unlatched as she approached. “I know the way,” she told the female officer who greeted her.
Upstairs and to the right, she entered the detective division. Vail's private office was beside a row of cubicles where his subordinates worked. He stood up on catching sight of her and strode to her side.
"Is everything all right? Did you take Brianna to class?"
She glanced at his worried gray eyes and patted his arm. “Yes, I dropped her off and paid her costume deposit to the amount of a hundred and six dollars. I thought I'd drop by and see if you were free for coffee. I don't have to pick her up until ten."
His expression softened, and he gazed at her appreciatively. Her heart quickened at his proximity. “Thanks, Marla,” he said quietly. “I knew I could count on you."
Straightening his broad shoulders, he marched to his desk and withdrew a checkbook from a drawer. “Let's settle our account before I forget.” While he scribbled the check, she let her gaze roam his tall frame. He'd
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