“It’s not a problem,” Anita told the teenager. Lucy Knight was fourteen, and Keystone was going to be her first competition. “I fixed the paillettes and sequins so it’s all ready for you. You’re going to be wonderful.”
“Thanks, Ms. Goodman.” Lucy gave her a quick hug. She was shorter than Anita by about five inches, her tidy brown hair streaked through with hot pink. Anita hoped her enthusiasm would last—the girl had talent and drive. “And you’ll be there on Friday?”
“Of course! I wouldn’t miss watching you all for anything.”
“You too, Mr. O’Leary?” She turned to Patrick, who had just finished coaching Lucy’s partner, Daniel Riley.
“Absolutely. Wild horses couldn’t stop me from coming.”
It had been a while since she had seen Patrick in action. She waved as Lucy and Daniel left the gym, then turned to Patrick. “You have a bizarre and inspiring talent with today’s youths.”
“Everybody’s good at something.” He threw his shoes and extra brushes into his dance bag. “They’re good kids. I just let them dance.”
“Well, there is something to be said for giving them a safe space to work out their hormones.”
“As we know from experience.”
A thrill shot through her, and Anita grimaced in order to try to control her blush. “I mean, when we were teenagers, of course.”
“Right, right, of course.” Teenage hormones must be contagious.
She kept her hands to herself as they walked outside the gymnasium, neither saying a word.
In the parking lot, Deputy John Flaherty reclined against the closed door of his police cruiser.
“I had no idea how fun it is to drive a police car at a school.” A huge grin crossed his face, crinkling the corners of his dark-brown eyes. “I swear I saw one kid literally dive behind that tree when I pulled up.” There was a rather terrified-looking freshman pretending to play a video game, hunched behind a large chestnut and furtively checking on the deputy every few seconds. It would help if John were built less like an NFL linebacker.
“So glad you take your civic responsibility seriously,” Patrick joked.
“I heard you guys were over here and wanted to give you an update. I went by the studio first. It looks like the new door is almost done.”
Something loosened in her chest. At least that was heading in the right direction.
“We weren’t able to pull any fingerprints off anything,” John told them. “I’m working now on some of the names you both gave me. It’s a whole cast of characters, isn’t it?”
“Did you find out anything?” Patrick asked.
“Nothing concrete yet. The two women are unusual to be sure, but I still need to do some digging, verify some things. I tried calling your former partner a few times, Anita, but no word yet.”
It would be just like Mikhail to ignore a police officer. He tended to discount anything that did not serve his personal image of himself as a living god.
“Hey, John.” Patrick glanced over at Anita. Was he nervous? It was stinking adorable. “Look, I’ve been doing some social media dives into a few people. Nothing too in-depth yet, just trying to cross-reference likes and tags and geotags and all that.”
John’s eyes widened. “Wow, I didn’t realize you had the blog, the brawn, and the brains, O’Leary. Triple threat, am I right, Anita?”
She smiled weakly and tried not to yawn. If they were going to have a male self-congratulation session, she would rather be napping.
“Anyway, I’ll send you what I have,” Patrick responded.
“Great! You two have a good evening. Keep your eyes open and your doors locked.” He waved to them both, then climbed into the cruiser. He pulled slowly out of the parking lot, doubtlessly turning on the cruiser’s lights just to torture the teenaged populace.
Anita smiled. “It’s like some men never leave the sixth grade.”
“John’s a good guy, just a little immature at times.”
They climbed into Patrick’s car for the short ride back to Main Street. Anita tapped her fingers rhythmically on her thigh, watching the familiar sites of her hometown flick past.
“A quickstep, maybe?”
