A Dance of Life

The first thing I notice about people is their shoes. Yes, I know it's weird but a person's shoes say a lot about them.

The detective that's questioning me has new shoes; little to no creases on the charcoal leather. He's either new to the job or he cares about his appearance enough to buy new plain black shoes once in a while.

"Ms. Allard?"

"Sorry, what was the question?" I ask him. I genuinely couldn't remember; I had gotten wrapped up in my analyses. His clean-cut beard and overly starched shirt push me towards the latter. No judgment there, not only women should care about their appearance.

"Can you describe his appearance and what he was wearing?"

Oh, right. He wants a description of the man that killed my boss. Hmm. "He was on the tall side, maybe about 6 feet, wearing a worn-out baseball cap. He had grey-blue tired eyes and a nose that looked like it had been broken a few times," the detective raises a brow at that statement and writes something in his notepad. He gestures for me to continue. "His smile was also crooked with a few chipped teeth; the top front incisors and the bottom canine. He wore joggers and a sweatshirt, both on the dark grey side. His shoes... his shoes were really peculiar. They didn't match the outfit; they were really old looking loafers with a small hole on the left foot."

Mr. Williams, my boss, wasn't the nicest person but he didn't deserve to die. He had a family; wife, three kids, and a dog. I can't imagine what they must be feeling.

“Did he have any enemies that you would have known of?” the detective asks.

I laugh slightly then immediately regret it; this is obviously not the time to laugh. “No, sir, I don’t think Mr. Williams had any enemies. He might not have been considered as kind but he was a good person. He never even fired anyone unless they were terribly insolent.”

“Okay, that’s all for now. Stick around, if we have any more questions we’ll let you know. If not, then you’ll be free to go.”

I nod quickly and shuffle to the service counter where the 3 other waitresses that were working tonight are seated.

“He’s cute.”

“Are you serious, Franky? Is that what you’re thinking about right now?”

She shrugs, “Anything to distract me from this crazy stuff. Let me go see if he needs coffee…”

I shake my head at her bravery, if I could even call it that. Francine McGrath, self-proclaimed bad girl. She isn’t really; she just likes people to think she is. She pairs her attitude with her black Doc Martins and gothic makeup. Mr. Williams had even allowed her to customize her uniform to suit her style. “As long as you don’t scare any customers away,” was all he said, so she switched out the white apron for a black one and black knuckle gloves.

“This is so crazy,” Bella says from behind me, her palms are cupping her heart shaped face and her small eyes are opened in fear. “I’m scared, what if the man comes back?”

Patricia smiles at me over Bella’s head. “It’s going to be okay, B, I’m sure the police would be watching this area for a while. There’s no need to worry.”

Pat was the mom out of all of us; she was constantly taking care of us and making sure everyone was okay. She has also been my roommate and best friend for the past 2 years. I met her in the second year of college and after a few awkward interactions we became good friends and moved in together. She’s a sneakers type of girl, different styles and colors depending on her mood but sneakers all the same.

“How about we all have a sleepover tonight? Watch a movie, do our nails…?”

I groan, “Pat you know I have to wake up early tomorrow to get to the studio, my audition’s in less than a month and I need all the practice I can get.”

“Please, Annelise,” Bella begs. Sometimes Bella can be as thick as her block heels and as selfish as someone who just spent their list dime on some Louboutin’s. “I’m going to need company this night unless I wouldn’t be able to sleep.

“Sorry, Bella but I can’t compromise on this.” I tell her sympathetically.

She scuffs in annoyance and walks away towards one of the booths, her heels clicking on the vinyl flooring. I roll my eyes and eye Pat. “Why would you suggest that?” I ask, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. “You know what my calendar looks like.”

“I’m sure your instructor would excuse you with the night you just had.”

“Maybe but I can’t excuse myself. You know how long I’ve waited for this audition; my whole life has basically been building up to this audition. My grandma danced as the lead and so did my mom, I can’t let them down.” I tell her slowly. “You know this.”

“Yeah, I know. I also know that that is a tremendous amount of pressure you’re putting on yourself and it’s not healthy. Your mom –“

“Please don’t talk about what my mom would have wanted right now,” I say under my breath.”

She pauses as she examines my face. “Fine,” she finally says, “But can’t you stay at Frederic’s place, just for tonight? I don’t want it to seem like I’m kicking you out of our apartment but I think we need this… even if you don’t think you do.”

“I’ve never spent the night at his place; we’re trying to reduce the temptation to have sex.”

Pat sighs, clearly exasperated with me. “Well, I doubt either of you would be thinking about that tonight. Just think about it and give him a call, let him know the circumstances and I’m sure he’ll understand.”

She busies herself with cleaning the counter and I know she’s done talking about it. I grunt and move away. I know she has a point but that only makes me more irritated. Frederic and I are saving ourselves for marriage, we aren’t engaged yet but I know it’s only a matter of time. We met at the 2017 Passion Conference and started dating a year later. I gather courage and send a silent prayer to God.

The phone barely gets through the first ring before he picks up. “Hey, babe,” his voice sounds tired, as if he had just woken up.

“Sorry if I woke you up.”

“Nah, it’s all good. You know I love hearing from you at any time of the day, what’s up?”

“Uh, Patricia and the girls are having a sleepover at the apartment but I have to be up early tomorrow and…” I decide to stop beating around the bush, “Can I please sleep at your place? Just for this night?”

“What?”

I can’t tell if he’s asking in shock or because I hadn’t spoken loud enough, either way I don’t particularly want to repeat myself. “Something happened at the diner and the girls need to be together… for support.”

“So why don’t you stay with them?”

“Because I have to train early tomorrow morning; I don’t have time for ‘girls time’.” His hesitation is surprising me, to reassure him I tell him I’ll stay on the couch and not his bed.

“Of course not, I’ll stay on the couch. It’s fine. What time do you want me to pick you up?”

“Is thirty minutes okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. See you.”

“Sorry, for the inconvenience,” I say but it turns out he’s already hung up.

I walk back to Patricia. “He said alright and that he’ll pick me up in about 30 minutes.”

“That’s good.” She gives me a small smile, “I’m sorry if I seemed harsh before but it’s only because I care about you, okay? But I care about

Bella and Franky too, so when I see away for everyone to be happy I take it.”

“It’s okay, I understand.”

“Alright ladies,” the detective calls from behind us, Franky is a little way off with a sour look on her face. I guess he didn’t want the coffee. He gestures towards us to come closer so he can address us all without raising his voice. “Let’s go over this one more time, shall we? My partner and I have compared notes and we’re satisfied but just to make sure…” He taps on his notepad for emphasis.

We all stay quiet, I had told him everything I knew and I assume the others had done the same. “Why were you guys the only one left in the shop with Mr. Williams?”

“We always work Friday nights, it’s the busiest shift so more money,” Pat shrugs. “Mr. Williams was here this night because he needed to wrap up a few things in his office. I’m the one that normally locks up and opens up Saturday morning cause I have an early shift.”

“Who else works on Saturdays?”

“If I’m free I take a shift but I normally have classes or practice?” I pitch in.

“Classes? On a Saturday?”

“Ballet classes or practice,” I specify.

“I come in in the afternoon,” Bella squeaks.

He nods then turns to Franky, “And what about you, Ms. McGrath?”

“I only work on Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. I’m never free to take a shift on Saturdays,” she tells him.

--------------------------

After a few more useless questions Detective Russel and his partner, Detective Rivers, let us go. Not before giving us their business cards and making us promise to contact them if we hear or remember anything.

“That was so scary,” Bella sighs, “I thought they’d just keep on asking questions.” She was fanning herself with her hand in an attempt to cool herself down. Somehow I doubted that it was working.

“Bella,” I start but decided there’s no point of reprimand her. “You guys can have the sleepover; I’m sleeping at Freddie’s place.”

I notice Franky’s expression starts to change so I stop her before her mind can travel further. “We’re not doing anything. I just need a quiet environment so I can sleep peacefully and wake up early.”

“Are you down for a sleepover, Franky?” Pat asks her with a wide toothed smile, “To get our minds off all this craziness.”

“Why the heck not,” she replies with a small laugh. “I’ll text my parents and let them know. Also, I don’t think we’re going to have work for a while, not until Mrs. Williams decides what to do with the place that it.”

“Nah, I don’t think that’ll be the case. It’s a family business so it would still run unless the family decides they don’t want it anymore. It would definitely be closed for a while though, maybe until after the funeral,” I argue, grabbing my hoodie from my locker.

They murmur in agreement, grab their stuff and we head out. We reach Franky’s car and they give me a hug one by one, Patricia being the last one. “Call me when you get there, okay?”

I chuckle into her neck and reassure her that I will. “I’ll send you a text before I sleep as well.”

“Good luck tomorrow!” they shout through the wound down windows as they drive away.

I text Frederic, asking where he is but I don’t get a reply. I try calling him but it takes me straight to voicemail. He’s probably driving and his phone is on do not disturb, calm down.

“Do you need a ride?” I turn to find Detective Russel leaning against his car, his partner is already inside seemingly asleep.

“No, thank you, but my boyfriend is coming. He’ll be here any moment.” I really hope that’s true.

He nods his head, gets into his car and drives off without a second glance.

I pull my hoodie tighter around me as a slight wind picks up. Luckily my apartment isn’t very far so I reason that if Frederic doesn’t show up in ten minutes I’d walk the few blocks there.

I call his number at two minute intervals to no avail. 5 phone calls later, I’m still at the diner. A thought pushes me to call the girls to come pick me up but I push it aside; I’m going to ruin their night very soon anyways so there’s no need to rush.

I start my journey home, making sure to keep to the streetlights. I’ve never walked home this late before and I have to admit that serenity is calming. After walking about a quarter mile a putrid smell invades my nostrils. It’s coming from beside a mailbox that’s next to a street light. I move into the shadows to try and escape the smell when I’m grabbed from behind.

A hand covers my mouth to stop me from screaming as I fight against the person. Fear overtakes me and I’m scared that I’ll black out. The person pushes me against the wall and pulls out a knife. Although his face is in the shadows he raises a finger to it, gesturing for me to be silent.

A torrent of thoughts run through my head as he puts the knife against my throat with one hand and raises my skirt with the other. A sob escapes my throat but I’m terrified to fight against him. I don’t want to die. I glance down at my exposed thigh and catch sight of his shoe. It’s the same one from the diner! From the man that shot my boss.

His weight pushes against me and I close my eyes and pray for mercy.