Chapter 26

I didn‘t scream as I cascaded through the air, my head approaching the ground below. I didn’t even have time to think about was what would happen if I hit, though I’d surely break something. If not my neck, then my arm—or God forbid—my leg. My dance career as I knew it would be over; at seventeen I knew I only had a limited number of years before I was relegated back to the corps de ballet, basically becoming a glorified backup dancer to the principals.

It was a ballerina’s worse nightmare: being injured and having to take time off in the prime of her career. The death of dance.

And if I couldn’t dance, I might as well be dead, too.

I reacted instinctually, pulling my muscles tight while spreading my arms out like wings. I didn’t close my eyes, but looked straight ahead instead of at the floor because I knew it would make the experience less scary. When my face was just a foot away from meeting the hard surface, I felt a hand grip me tightly across the chest and another clutch onto my inner thigh. Then, as if I were being pulled back by a strong bungee cord, my momentum continued to the side and then back upward until I settled into a graceful pose, one toe connected at the knee of my other outstretched leg, arms splayed apart and back arched toward the sky.

Zhara and I barely breathed as we held the pose a few counts, and then he lifted me back upright and set me down gently again on one leg.

“Beautiful you two,” Miss Diane said, nodding approvingly. Today we were working on different lifts and dips, called “fish.” Despite the danger of falling, lifts were actually a lot of fun. Well, if you had a strong partner and trusted him. If you didn’t, then it was more like an extreme sport. Luckily, there wasn’t anyone I trusted more than Zhara.

Even if we did sometimes fight like siblings.

“The dream team is back in effect, bitches,” he said quietly under his breath after thanking Miss Diane for the compliment. Something she didn’t hand out lightly.

After catching our breath, we turned to face each other again and I chasséd toward him before brushing my leg out in front of me and reaching for Zhara’s shoulders. As he lifted me up into the air, I threw my legs up toward the ceiling, balancing over his shoulders and focusing my eyes on his butt.

“Those tights are especially sheer today,” I said, unable to ignore the shape of his butt through the thin fabric.

“If I could dance naked, I would,” Zhara answered back, holding my hips up with his palms. “But naked ballets don’t bring in the same clientele.”

“No, but they’d probably pay better,” I said.

I held my stance as he began to lower my legs, which swung down just to the side of his right thigh. He adjusted himself into a deep lunge, moving his hands lightning fast until one was underneath the backs of my legs and the other held me in the middle of my back. I released my hold on him completely, trusting him to hold me up as I crossed my arms delicately over my chest. A few strands of hair brushed the floor below.

Then, in one swift motion, he pulled me back up and deposited me back on my feet. Another nod from Miss Diane and we were heading over to the benches for water.

“Please, they couldn’t afford me, honey,” Zhara said, continuing our conversation on naked ballets as he collapsed onto the ground and reached for his water bottle. He squirted a long stream of the liquid into his open mouth and then glanced at the window that looked into the studio. “But I could be convinced to do a few private performances for the right audience.”

 I nearly snorted water out of my nose. “Really? Him?” I asked, looking at the cop that had replaced Marcus for today’s detail.

“You know I don’t discriminate,” Zhara said. “And I’m a sucker for a guy with a big gun.”

I rolled my eyes, but glanced around to make sure nobody had heard him. I was still trying to keep the whole investigation thing under wraps at the company. There were already too many reasons for RBC to give the lead to someone else, I didn’t want them thinking I was going to put the whole production in jeopardy, too. The teachers wouldn’t stand for any additional complications, and an open murder investigation would definitely count as a complication.

“Zhar,” I said calmly so as not to draw any more attention to us. “I thought we agreed that was privileged information. Which means you’re privileged to know it.”

“Bitches can’t hear us. They’re too busy trying to be us,” Zhara said, waving me off. He was always doing this. Insisting that we were above anyone else at the company. Well, in the general world, actually. I wasn’t sure if his was a case of severe egomania or if he really saw us as better than everyone else. Either way, it did sort of feel good to be on Zhara’s team. “You gotta admit, we’re on fire lately. Nobody else can do those last two lifts. Looks like a little risk does your body good. We should put your life in danger more often.”

I gave him a look that said I disagreed. “No, thank you. I’ve had enough danger for a lifetime,” I said. But in a way he was right. Oddly, the more my focus had been taken away from ballet, the more focused I’d seemed to be in class. Something about what I’d been doing lately made me suddenly feel more…brazen. I hadn’t figured out what it meant yet, but things were different somehow.

And I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

“Don’t tell me you’re quitting our case,” Zhara said, looking stricken.

“It’s not our case, Zhara,” I corrected him.

“You sure about that?” he asked, motioning over my shoulder.

I turned to see that Agent Walker had joined the cop outside. He was wearing his usual white button-down with a loose, black skinny tie around his neck. I could just barely see the top of his fitted jeans, since the rest of him was hidden behind the wall. He squinted his eyes as he surveyed the room, checking out everybody in their various states of undress. Finally, he found me, and his mouth relaxed into a small smile before giving me a tiny nod in greeting.

“Well hello, officer,” Zhara said, letting out a low whistle. “You didn’t mention your agent was so…yummy.”

“Zhara,” I warned.

“I mean, he isn’t conventionally hot,” he said, still staring at Agent Walker. “But I like me some unusual. “

“Put your sword away, Zorro,” I said. “I don’t think he swings that way.”

“He hasn’t met me yet,” Zhara said, standing up gracefully now that he had an audience to impress. “Come on, let’s play.”

I sighed, but followed Zhara back to the floor. We were still in the middle of class, so I couldn’t leave to talk to Agent Walker anyway, despite the fact that I’d been the one to request the meeting. Twenty minutes later, Miss Diane finally dismissed us for the day.

I went over to retrieve my bag, pulling some knitted bottoms on over my leotard and then slipping my feet into flip-flops. Turning to say goodbye to Zhara, I ran into him instead.

“Whoa,” I said, surprised to see him there. “Whatcha doin’ Zhar?”

“I’m coming with,” he said.

It wasn’t a request.

“I’m not sure he’ll talk around you,” I started, glancing over at Agent Walker, who was smiling at each ballerina as she left the studio. “I haven’t exactly told him I have a partner on the outside.”

“So, introduce me,” he said.

I knew refusing him would be futile, so I sighed again as he fell into step beside me.

“Emmy,” Agent Walker said as I walked up to him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” I said.

Zhara cleared his throat before I even had a chance to introduce him. The agent’s eyes darted over to my friend curiously.

“Um, Agent Walker, this is my ballet partner—” I started.

“And best friend,” Zhara cut in.

I looked at him sideways. “And best friend,” I continued, “Zhara. Zhara this is Special Agent Julian Walker with the FBI.”

“Can I see your badge?” Zhara said almost immediately. After a brief pause, he began laughing, and clapped Agent Walker on the arm like they were old buddies. “Just kidding, bro. I believe you.”

Agent Walker gave me a sideways look as he held out his hand and shook Zhara’s. “Nice to meet you,” he said, finally. Then he turned to look at me. “You said you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah,” I said, leading him outside and into the sun. I was about to suggest we go back to my apartment, but then I caught Scarlett and Preston leaving the studio. They slowed down when they saw us standing around, and Scarlett said something quietly to Preston. Preston didn’t answer, but his expression was conflicted. He seemed angry, but also concerned, like he was trying to decide what to do. As much as it made my stomach do a flip-flop to see him worried about me, I didn’t want to get him involved with anything that was going on. So I turned and pointed in the opposite direction. “There’s a coffee place a few doors down that we can go to. I could sort of use the caffeine.”

Agent Walker nodded and we began to walk away. But after a few steps, I noticed there were three sets of shadows on the sidewalk in front of us. Agent Walker and I both glanced back to see Zhara bringing up the rear.

I looked at my partner, wondering silently what he was doing.

Zhara blinked. “What? I’m thirsty,” he said, like he wasn’t just inviting himself along. Then, he added, “Besides, I’m sort of her partner outside of the studio, too.”

Agent Walker gave us a look like he was genuinely surprised to find this out. Seeing his reaction, Zhara clarified.

“Ew, no. I am so not a vagina guy. I mean, we’re like partners-in-crime. Well, not actual criminals, but like, partners fighting crime. Like Sherlock Holmes and Watson, or Batman and Robin. We’ve even got the tights, see?”

He was rambling now and I was at a loss for how to shut him up.

“Bottom line: We’ve sort of been working on this case together and I know more about serial killers than she does. I watched ‘Dexter’,” he explained, like this gave him the cred he needed to be an integral part of this investigation. “So, you might as well let me stay, because she’ll tell me everything later anyway.”

I placed my hand over my face. I hadn’t planned on telling Agent Walker that I was talking to anyone else about what was going on. In fact, I’d gotten the distinct feeling that I shouldn’t be talking about it at all.

I held my breath and waited for Agent Walker to say something, but he didn’t. When I finally dared to peek over at him, his face was blank, as if Zhara’s revelation weren’t a surprise after all.

“So, what’s up?” Agent Walker asked after the three of us sat down at an outside table. A few of the other dancers wandered over, but they stayed inside the air-conditioned shop, rather than broiled in the heat-filled afternoon like us. For the time being though, we had the area to ourselves.

“I think Kyle’s here,” I blurted out.

“Where?” Agent Walker asked, his voice suddenly serious. He looked around us nonchalantly, but his body had stiffened. I knew he was surveying the area for any sign of a threat. “Do you see him? Is he here now?”

“No. Well, maybe. I don’t know,” I said, getting flustered. “I didn’t mean here, here. He left me a note.”

Agent Walker turned back to me and narrowed his eyes. “A note?”

I nodded. “Zhara and I went to this coffee place yesterday and when we got back to his car, this was inside.”

I handed Agent Walker the piece of paper I’d found and watched as he studied it.

YOU’RE FINISHED, BITCH.

“And this isn’t yours?” he asked Zhara.

Zhara shook his head. “Honey, I’m no one’s bitch,” he said, raising a hand defensively. “At least, not at the moment…”

Agent Walker raised his eyebrow at this and I jumped in quickly.

“It was left for me,” I said. “I’m sure of it.”

The agent stared at the paper again, lost in thought. “Do you have any enemies, Emmy?” he asked me slowly.

“You mean, besides our friendly neighborhood serial killer?” I answered, sarcastically.

“It’s just that…Kyle’s never left threats for his victims before. He doesn’t usually let people know he’s coming,” Agent Walker explained. “It’s more thrilling for him that way.”

“He could change things up, though,” I said. “Right? I mean, he’s sent me letters before.”

“But he never threatened you in them,” he answered. “It’s unlikely that a serial killer would change his MO this much, Emmy. It’s much more plausible that this is from someone else.”

We sat there in silence and let this idea wash over us. Another stalker?

“Oh. No. She. Did. Not!” Zhara said suddenly, a devious smile spreading across his face.

“What?” Agent Walker asked.

But Zhara was focused on me. “Scarlett HO-hanson is calling you out, Step Up style, Em,” he said with a laugh.

Agent Walker looked from me to Zhara. “I have no idea what that means,” he said blankly.

I tried to explain. “There’s this girl, Scarlett. She’s another dancer. And she’s sort of…my competition here at the company. But she’s just a teenager, Zhara. She wouldn’t do something this stupid,” I said disbelievingly.

“You mean, she wouldn’t do anything to knock you out of the running? Yeah, okay,” Zhara said with a snort. “I’ve seen girls do far worse for smaller parts.”

He was right. Sabotage wasn’t uncommon in the ballet world. But Scarlett? We both knew she didn’t like me, but would she do this? I just wasn’t sure.

“I’m going to take this in as evidence, even though I don’t think it’s from Kyle,” Agent Walker interrupted, holding up the note. “In the meantime, lay low. Zhara, since you’re her partner, you should stay with her.”

Zhara seemed to straighten up a little at this, like he’d been given a special assignment from the FBI itself.

“I can do that,” he said, serious now. “Maybe I should get your number…in case anything happens and I need to call.”

I rolled my eyes, but Agent Walker simply stood up from the table. He motioned to the cop of the day, who’d been surveying us from afar.

“Detective Brady will escort you two back to your apartment,” he announced. The guy didn’t say anything, but nodded in agreement. “I have some leads I need to follow, but if anything else comes up, call me. I’m serious. Anything.”

“Oh, we will,” Zhara said, giving him a smile.