The Body Finder

CHAPTER 25

THE DAY OF THE DANCE WAS LIKE A DREAM.

Violet woke up alone. She realized that Jay must have left sometime during the night, and she’d stayed where she was, curled up contentedly on the couch, basking in the warmth he’d left behind.

As she stretched and finally forced her nebulous thoughts to clear, she remembered Jay’s new car. She was thrilled for him all over again as she easily recaptured his image in her mind’s eye, that childlike enthusiasm on his face as he showed off his new toy. She smiled to herself at the memory of it. She couldn’t wait to ride in it, with Jay behind the wheel.

She couldn’t wait to go to the dance.

She spent a lot of the day fielding text messages from her friends…and forcing herself not to call Jay, allowing the expectancy to build to a crescendo, the suspense filling her senses as intoxicatingly as any narcotic. She was giddy by the time she was slipping into her dress.

Her mom made several appearances, camera in hand, to take pictures of her getting ready. It seemed to be exactly what they needed as a family, something to take their mind off all the tragic and frightening events of the past weeks. Even her father, who still had reservations about her going, couldn’t stop telling her how beautiful she looked when her mom dragged him in to see Violet all dressed up.

Her dress was simple enough: a soft, flowing, black jersey fabric with a narrow Empire waist and a halter top that created a V-shaped neckline. The crisscrossing straps in back held up a scoop of fabric that ended in a soft wave, exposing a generous length of nearly bare skin from her shoulders to below her midback. It clung to Violet’s body in all the right places, and the hem all but covered her strappy sandals, for which Violet was now grateful, knowing that it would also cover the ugly, unavoidable ankle brace she would be forced to wear.

The effect was not only elegant but dramatic.

Violet felt like a princess.

Not like one of Lissie’s band of nauseatingly counterfeit princesses, but like a real one. From a fairy tale.

A really, really sexy fairy tale.

Her mom helped Violet to pin back her hair, leaving wisps of strategic curls to fall loose, framing her delicate porcelain face perfectly. And for the first time, probably ever, Violet was grateful not to have the same stick-straight hair that all the other girls had. Her eyes were striking, with smoky charcoal liner and a luscious coat of lash-lengthening mascara that outlined the flecked emerald green of her irises. The color in her cheeks had little to do with the makeup she wore, since she was flushed with excitement.

Her dad poked his head in just as her mom was crouching down to help her fasten the tiny buckle of her shoe, the final touch.

He whistled approvingly. “I’m starting to have second thoughts again. I’m not sure I should be letting you out of the house like this.” He smiled, but his eyes were tearing up a little, and Violet knew that he was comparing her to the little girl she once was.

Her own eyes started to burn, and she fanned her hands in front of them. “Stop it, Dad! You’re gonna make me cry too.”

Greg Ambrose took a cleansing breath and composed himself before announcing, “Jay’s downstairs waiting.”

With her father on one side, and the handrail on the other, Violet descended the stairs as if she were floating. Jay stood at the bottom, watching her, frozen in place like a statue.

His black suit looked as if it had been tailored just for him. His jacket fell across his strong shoulders in a perfect line, tapering at his narrow waist. The crisp white linen shirt beneath stood out in contrast against the dark, finely woven wool. He smiled appreciatively as he watched her approach, and Violet felt her breath catch in her throat at the striking image of flawlessness that he presented.

“You…are so beautiful,” he whispered fervently as he strode toward her, taking her dad’s place at her arm.

She smiled sheepishly up at him. “So are you.”

Her mom insisted on taking no fewer than a hundred pictures of the two of them, both alone and together, until Violet felt like her eyes had been permanently damaged by the blinding flash. Finally her father called off her mom, dragging her away into the kitchen so that Violet and Jay could have a moment alone together.

“I meant it,” he said. “You look amazing.”

She shook her head, not sure what to say, a little embarrassed by the compliment.

“I got you something,” he said to her as he reached inside his jacket. “I hope you don’t mind, it’s not a corsage.”

Violet couldn’t have cared less about having flowers to pin on her dress, but she was curious about what he had brought for her. She watched as he dragged out the moment longer than he needed to, taking his time to reveal his surprise.

“I got you this instead.” He pulled out a black velvet box, the kind that holds fine jewelry. It was long and narrow.

She gasped as she watched him lift the lid.

Inside was a delicate silver chain, and on it was the polished outline of a floating silver heart that drifted over the chain that held it.

Violet reached out to touch it with her fingertip. “It’s beautiful,” she sighed.

He lifted the necklace from the box and held it out to her. “May I?” he asked.

She nodded, her eyes bright with excitement as he clasped the silver chain around her bare throat. “Thank you,” she breathed, interlacing her hand into his and squeezing it meaningfully.

She reluctantly used the crutches to get out to the car, since there were no handrails for her to hold on to. She felt like they ruined the overall effect she was going for.

Jay’s car was as nice on the inside as it was outside. The interior was rich, smoky gray leather that felt like soft butter as he helped her inside. Aside from a few minor flaws, it could have passed for brand-new. The engine purred to life when he turned the key in the ignition, something that her car had never done. Roar, maybe-purr, never.

She was relieved that her uncle hadn’t ordered a police escort for the two of them to the dance. She had half expected to see a procession of marked police cars, lights swirling and sirens blaring, in the wake of Jay’s sleek black Acura.

Despite sitting behind the wheel of his shiny new car, Jay could scarcely take his eyes off her. His admiring gaze found her over and over again, while he barely concentrated on the road ahead of him. Fortunately they didn’t have far to go.

Even the parking lot at school had an entirely different feel as the cover of night began to fall in a sheer dark curtain, allowing the distant twinkling of the stars to break through the dusky sky. Violet could hear the music migrating out from the open doors of the gymnasium as couples paraded into the dance.

Jay patiently led Violet inside, showing his student ID, and then helping Violet with hers, to the two teachers manning the door and checking identifications. Once inside, Violet was surprised at herself. She had expected her hypercritical eyes to devour everything and mentally tear it to shreds, from the cheesy décor to the dorky DJ playing the music and trying to be “hip” to what the kids were into. Right down to the obnoxious and unpleasant Queen Lissie.

But she didn’t. She kind of liked it, in all of its tacky splendor.

She let Jay lead her to the photographer, a man in a cheap suit with a greasy comb-over-style hairdo. They had their picture taken in front of a backdrop of draped tulle in shades of pink and red, and flanked by freestanding white-probably Styrofoam-pillars that were meant to look Greek and tragically romantic. Instead, they looked tragically shabby, as if they might crumble at any moment from years of overuse. But Violet didn’t care about any of it; she could hardly breathe whenever she glanced sideways at her arrestingly handsome date.

When they were finished they saw Chelsea and Claire. Actually, the two overly wound-up girls came running right at Violet, screaming with excitement to see her. As if they didn’t see her every single day.

“Oh…my… God, Violet! You look amazing!” Claire gushed at her, and Violet tried not to be insulted by the insinuation that it was so far-fetched for her to look good.

And then Jules walked up with her date, a senior from another high school, and Violet almost didn’t recognize the tall, leggy bombshell towering over her. Jules wore an almost sinful black dress with a bustier top that left little to the imagination and no room for a bra of any kind. Before this moment, Violet hadn’t even realized that Jules had boobs, let alone full-on cleavage.

“Wow!” Claire breathed, unable to say anything beyond that single word. And suddenly Violet wasn’t so insulted, because Jules’s transformation had actually left Claire, the girl who always had something to say, completely speechless.

The music was loud, and the bass was up way too high, making everything from floor to ceiling vibrate. They had to raise their voices just to hear one another.

“Yeah, Jules!” Chelsea said in a voice thick with envy. “Go away, you’re making the rest of us look bad.” She winked at Jules’s date wickedly. “I bet you just want to eat her up, don’t ya?”

He stared at Chelsea with bewilderment and glanced back at Jules for help.

“Just ignore her,” Jules explained over the noise from the sound system. “She doesn’t get out much.”

Chelsea tried to look hurt by Jules’s words, but she couldn’t quite pull it off. “I’m just sayin’, Jules, he’d better watch his back tonight, or I might be trying to take you away from him.” Chelsea loved to play the potentially bi-curious card, even though everyone knew she liked boys far too much to go to bat for the other team.

“Gross!” cried Claire, who wasn’t pretending at all. Claire hated it when the conversation deviated too far off her straight and narrow path. The operative word being straight.

“Don’t worry, Claire-bear,” Chelsea soothed condescendingly. “I’m not going to hook up with Jules.” She wrapped her arm around Claire’s waist and then said suggestively in her ear, “I’m much more likely to make a move on you.”

“Eww!” Claire shrieked, shoving Chelsea away. “Get away from me!”

“Leave her alone, Chels,” Jules interrupted. “Or you’re gonna make her start her ‘It’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve’ speech. And, sorry, Claire, but none of us really want to hear that.”

Jay pulled Violet close to him as they listened to the familiar, playful bantering. He slid his arm around her waist from behind, and let his lips gently tease her earlobe while no one was paying attention to the two of them. Violet wanted to turn around right there, in his arms, and forget this whole dance thing altogether.

“Hey!” Chelsea’s voice interrupted them, and Violet jumped a little, realizing that everyone was staring at them. “Did you hear me?”

Violet leaned forward on her crutches and away from Jay, still feeling bemused by the close and intimate contact. “What?” she asked, trying to focus on what had been said.

“I said, ‘I gotta pee.’ Let’s go to the bathroom,” Chelsea repeated as if Violet were some sort of imbecile, incapable of understanding normal human speech.

“Keep it up, Chels, and none of us is gonna want to hook up with you tonight,” Violet promised jokingly.

Chelsea grinned at Violet. “I like the way you think, Violet Ambrose. Maybe you’ll be the lucky girl I choose.” And then she turned to Jay. “Don’t worry, I’ve got her from here,” Chelsea announced. Jules and Claire followed.

Violet laughed and glanced back at him. “I’ll only be a few.”

Jay gave her a skeptical look that no one else would have even noticed, as he assessed the three girls who would be escorting Violet. And then he finally nodded. “Okay, I’m gonna show these guys my car.” He was beaming again. “I’ll be right outside, but I won’t be long.”

Violet did her best to keep up with the trio ahead of her, but it was hard on one high heel and two crutches. Finally she yelled at them exasperatedly, “If you guys don’t wait, I’m not going!”

They all three stopped and turned around.

Chelsea tapped her lovely silver shoe impatiently. “Hurry up, Violet, or I swear I’ll take you off my list.”

IN PLAIN SIGHT

SHE WAS EASY TO SPOT, THE GIRL, CHIEF AMBROSE’S niece. She was the only girl at the dance on crutches.

She was pretty. Beautiful even, he thought longingly as he studied her. She had the air of a girl who had no idea how seductively appealing she was to the men of this world. He liked that…her innocence.

He’d been watching her since she’d arrived, keeping his distance in case she somehow managed to recognize him from that day in the woods, when he’d chased her. He still couldn’t figure out how she’d known he was there. He’d been so careful, creeping stealthily behind her, and then somehow, some way, she’d known, and she’d run. But even then, he almost had her.

At least until her boyfriend showed up.

He knew, of course, that she hadn’t seen his face out there. He knew that there was no way she could identify him. If she could have, she would have done it already. But there was no point in taking chances…not when he was so close.

It had been hard to wait, frustrating. He’d been forced to bide his time until those watching her slipped, letting down their guard just enough to give him a chance to move in quietly.

And here he was. At last.

The dance was turning out to be more fun than he’d anticipated. He felt like a kid in a candy store, as lovely young ladies floated past him in colorful shades of chiffon and taffeta. They looked like mouth-watering little confections. Only, he couldn’t have any of them.

He could only have one of them. He just needed to be patient…to wait until he could get her alone.

None of them even seemed to notice him there, at their dance, barely affording him a first glance, let alone a second. He blended into the background, an everyday fixture that hardly deserved notice.

It was the perfect disguise. All dressed up as himself.

He kept a close eye on her, on Violet, on his Violet, trying not to have his attention sidetracked by the other blossoming girls all dressed up in women’s bodies. He could smell their youthful essence, and it was distracting.

He observed his girl interacting with her friends, playful and carefree. He watched her boyfriend pulling her close, kissing her on the neck.

And then he saw her leaving. Not all alone, but not with her hovering date either.

He felt a blistering flash of energy course through him, and he lifted himself away from the wall.

He followed in their general direction but was careful to keep a good length of space between them.

Mentally he prepared for what he was about to do.