Authors: Wendy Potocki
“I’m glad you’re here,” he admitted.
“I am, too,” she responded, turning her head and allowing a sweet kiss.
“TV?” he said, taking the remote and turning on the wide screen.
“Sure, why not!” she answered, leaning against him.
Bringing one arm around her, he channel surfed, stopping on what could only be described as a romantic movie.
“This one has your name all over it,” he remarked, setting down the control.
Melissa tried to pinch the flesh around his ribs, finding it difficult to locate any loose enough to grab.
“Ouch!” he cried, laughing. “What was that for? It wasn’t an insult! I thought you’d like it.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Like watching football is so erudite and makes you superior,” she sassed, not letting him getting away with the perceived slight.
“You always this thin-skinned?” he asked, caressing her cheek.
“Yes, why?” she answered, playfully feisty.
“Just wondering what it’s gonna be like. You know, in the future,” he stated, bending over for another kiss.
Giggling, she rolled away.
“And what makes you think there’ll be a future?”
“Oh, so it’s like that?” he said, grabbing her hands, and pulling her towards him.
“Yes, it’s exactly like that,” she replied, staying in diva mode.
With Missy relaxing in his arms, Todd planted a kiss on the side of her head.
Suddenly serious, she looked up. “What do you think is going to happen?”
“You mean, with the case?”
“Yeah, with Kurt and Justin and Tina and Collette … do you think they’ll be found?”
“Yes,” he assured, picking at a long lock of hair dusting her cheekbone. “I’m positive they’ll be found. Alive,” he added for good measure. “Have no doubt whatsoever.”
“That makes me feel better, but still … this is all so sad.”
“I know,” he replied, cradling her head in his hands. Pressing his cheek against hers, he eased her head down until it was upon the cushion.
“Why did Una come here?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Isn’t it out of the way for a dance school? Wouldn’t a big city make more sense?”
“Logistically, I suppose, but it wouldn’t give the space. She could be planning on renting rehearsal rooms out to companies. Add in the summer intensives,” she said, prattling off possible reasons for Una’s locating Velofsky’s in an off-the-beaten-track town. “Then there’s the fact the land was given to them to use. The trustees of that guy’s estate are letting her use it.”
“What guy?” he asked, cuddling next to her, not being able to make much sense out of what was on the screen.
“Belmont. Irwin Belmont,” she responded as she tried to understand the plot of the movie that was almost over.
“Irwin!” Todd yelled. Sitting up, he snapped his fingers. Hitting the side of his head, he berated himself for not connecting the name sooner. “I wonder if that’s who Manny was talking about!”
“Manny?” she asked, raising herself up on her elbows. “He said something about Irwin Belmont? When did you talk to him?”
“A couple of days ago. I was trying to get a handle on The Innocents and had a chat with him about Barbara Moore and what happened to her. It occurred to me that no one had ever questioned him, and I thought he might be able to give some insight into the group and what went on.”
“And did he?”
“No, and that’s when I decided to leave it to the big boys. I was mixing everything up and making something out of nothing. Like Mulligan leaving town …”
“He left town?”
“Skipped is more like it. Owed money, and I went off about how he was another victim, and wanted everything impounded and sealed. What a yutz I am!” he said, shaking his head.
“You are not! Sounds perfectly reasonable to me,” she comforted.
“Yeah, well, that’s because you’re not involved in the investigation … no offense or anything,” he said giving her a quick peck.
“None taken. And I think him leaving is suspicious … money or no money. Where’d he go?”
“Have no idea. Back to where he came from.”
“Who came from where?” Joan asked, carrying a tray with tea and holiday cookies. “Oh, ‘
On the Wings of an Angel
!’ I love this movie! It’s so sad when the angel gives his wings to the little boy who’s sick and always wanted to fly!”
“Yeah, you would,” Grant grumbled, loping to the couch and taking a cookie.
“What did you say?” his wife challenged.
“Nothing, dear,” he muttered. “Now where’s the remote?” Finding it, he sat back down, flipping the stations.
“Honestly!” Joan sighed, a sly smile on her lips. Setting the tray down, she grabbed the toy away, making her husband scoot over to give her room. “We let our guests decide what program they’d like to watch,” she reminded, placing the remote within arm’s distance of Melissa. “Now who were you discussing?” she inquired demurely.
“That architect that used to live here,” Todd answered, taking a freshly-baked cookie from the tray.
“Irwin Belmont?” she responded, surprise registering in her voice.
“Belmont?” Grant asked. “Why were you discussing him? You kids aren’t thinking of buying one of the houses he designed, are you? Hear his have resale value.”
Seeing the embarrassment creep into Melissa’s cheeks, Joan poked him with her elbow.
“Please excuse my husband. He’s working on his flexibility by seeing how many times he can insert his foot in his mouth.”
“Sorr-reee!” Grant apologized, easing against the pillowed cushions.
“Now as you were saying,” Joan prompted.
“ We were just talking about Velofsky’s, and Melissa reminded me that it was Belmont’s land.”
“Yes, it was held in a trust,” Joan explained. “From what I heard, they agreed to her using the land and buildings for the school. Well, they had to, I mean, she did renovate the property to include all those studios, and performance center.”
“
They
?” Todd asked. “Who exactly are
they
?”
“Don’t know. Trustees? Lawyers? Judge? Have no idea who’s in charge, do you?” she said turning to her husband.
“Oh, am I allowed to speak?” he jibed. Clucking her lips together, she rolled her eyes, chuckling as he continued. “I don’t even know if the trustees are alive anymore. Used to know who they were,” he said scratching his head. “Is this important? Would have thought why those kids made those calls to their parents would be occupying your time,” he observed, taking the cup of tea from his wife.
“Anna’s theory is that they didn’t make them. She thinks Viktor’s behind it. She thinks he’s a demon,” Melissa commented. Taking an iced gingerbread reindeer, she nibbled the edges.
“And Anna is who, again?” Grant asked.
“Una Velofsky’s
grandmother,” she replied, lowering her voice. “Now what does she think he is? A les-sshy,” she slurred.
“A what?” Joan inquired, biting off the tip of a Christmas tree shaped sugar cookie. Todd merely stared, squinting at her as if his date had grown another head.
“A leshy,” she said more distinctly, raising her shoulders. “And I have no idea either, but that’s what she said.”
“Well, let’s see. Grant, go get the laptop.”
“Yes, dear,” he seethed through clenched teeth. Lumbering through the house, he returned with the computer. Placing it in front of his wife, she flipped back the top.
“You wouldn’t happen to know how to spell that, would you, Melissa?”
“Nope, but that’s what she said. She’s convinced it’s Viktor behind everything. She even warned Zoe.”
“She did?” Todd asked, watching her over the rim of his tea.
“Yes, but Zoe just thought she was crazy.”
“And you don’t?” Grant asked.
“Not really. I just think she’s being dramatic.”
“And does Una think the same thing? Is that why she was tearing into him?” Todd asked.
“Don’t know, but I think she has her own reasons for being upset. They used to be an item.”
“Really? Are they still together?” Joan inquired.
“Not that way. They’re only still together because of ballet …”
“Szelak! That was the name!” Grant exclaimed, his memory coming to full fruition. ”There was a stipulation that when and if the trustees died, the trust would pass to somebody named Szelak.”
“That’s weird,” Melissa remarked, happily munching on the legs of her cookie.
“Why’s that, dear?” Joan remarked.
“Because that’s Viktor’s last name. And I do remember hearing something about that. When they were talking, she said he was responsible … or helped secure the land … something like that. I didn’t know what she meant.”
“Interesting,” Todd stated, intently listening.
“Leshy?” Grant prompted his wife. “Have we made any progress on that front?”
“Oh, right, right, right! It says that a leshy is a forest creature. It has glowing eyes and can shift shapes.”
“Can what?” Todd asked.
“Shift shapes,” Joan replied. “You know, like those shapeshifters in those movies you used to like to watch. Where those demons would change form and …”
“Become someone else. Yeah, I get it. But those are movies.”
“Well, I’m just reading what it says, and it says that that they can assume the forms of familiar people … even imitate their voices ..” she stated, her tone trailing off.
“Well, then that explains it!” Grant jested, raising his hands up in the air.
“Guess so,” Todd agreed.
“Yes, well,” Melissa said, trying to play mediator. “Did I mention that Anna Tritta is about eighty years old?”
“Senile?” Grant queried.
“No! I didn’t mean that at all. I just mean, that she wasn’t born rich, and she might have grown up listening to these kinds of stories. Probably heard these tales when younger, and when she got older, she sort of mixed what was happening with things that she’d heard when a child.”
Joan gave a sharp nod.
“That’s a very astute observation, Melissa. I concur. I think that might be exactly what happened.”
“I sort of like it,” Grant said, warming up to the idea of woodland creatures changing form. “So this leshy can change into anything?”
“Pretty much. It actually is said to ‘read your mind and change forms—appearing as someone that you know.’ This way …”
“You relax and think it’s a friend … and then he eats you!” he said biting into the cookie as if launching a vigorous attack.
The group laughed, entertained by his antics.
“Exactly!” Joan tittered, handing Missy the remote. “And even though we’ve discovered that we’re surrounded by evil forest creatures, you still get the honor of choosing what we watch. You know, the more I think about it, the creepier that legend becomes. If it were true, then I wouldn’t know if you were you, or if Todd was Todd, or if Grant was really Grant?”
“Oh, you’d know alright. Here
,
” her husband responded, giving her a big kiss on her lips.
“Oh, you!” she said, laughing. “I guess I can relax. Definitely is the man I married. Although I was sort of hoping it wasn’t,” she teased.
Melissa slowly skipped through the many channels. The odd thought was making her uncomfortable. How would she know? Out of the corner of her eye, she studied Todd. Although he looked like the man she was dating, he really could be anyone.
Chapter Fifty-seven
“Hello, Melissa! Back already?” Joan greeted, giving the girl laden with packages a hand. “Guess you stopped shopping because you couldn’t carry anymore?”
“Pretty much!” she answered giggling. “There were all these sales! At least I got some bargains.”
“That’s good, honey. Was just about to start baking more cookies. Our family goes through them so fast that I have to keep making batches to stay even with the demand. Then there are those relatives about to descend; wouldn’t do to have them go home hungry. Of course, I’m referring to Grant’s side of the family. They’re mean to begin with. Add in hunger, and you’ve got some pretty irate customers!”
Both laughed at her husband’s expense. Since he was out earning a living, he’d be none the wiser.
“So if you’re still interested in watching me bake …”
“Absolutely! I’ll just be a minute.”
“You know where to find me.”
Missy lugged the bags upstairs, discarding her white ski jacket and woolen accessories. Giving her hair a quick brush through, she jogged down the stairs ready to make some serious holiday treats.
Plunging in with both feet, she was happy that Joan let her do most of the work. Taking the lead in measuring out the ingredients made her feel like the adult she longed to be. Imagining how wonderful it would be to have her own place and be in charge of her decisions, it didn’t seem so scary right now, but perhaps it was because there was so much going on. Compared to kidnappings and murder, juggling her paycheck to cover expenses seemed like child’s play.