The Dance by Barbara Steiner Page B

you sure the postcard was from her?” Hank asked.
    Julie looked as if she’d never questioned that it was. “I—I guess so. It looked as if she’d written it quickly, and it didn’t say much. I think I still have it at the studio. It was postmarked in London. I know that. I tried to read the date, but it was smeared. You don’t think—” Julie couldn’t finish the sentence.
    â€œI can think anything where Madame Leona is concerned.” Bryan reached for some cheese. “I don’t like the woman.”
    Julie thought of something else. “A lot of people didn’t know Ilene was married once. Her ex-husband lives in Syracuse. I think he still carries a torch for Ilene. He called me last month, asking about Ilene, asking me if I’d heard from her. The last time he’d talked to her was in September. He seemed worried. I gathered Ilene did keep in touch with him.”
    There was another pause in the conversation. Then Melanie changed the subject.
    â€œAnd Paulie—we actually came to talk about Pauline McMasters.” Melanie shifted in her chair. Bryan could tell she didn’t feel really comfortable questioning Julie.
    â€œWhat a waste of a talented life.” Julie shook her head. “She stopped in to visit just before she—just before—I was busy. She seemed anxious to talk to me. Afterwards, I felt bad, of course. I could have given her a few minutes. I knew she wasn’t getting along with Leona. I heard one blow-up they had. But Paulie, despite being a fine dancer, was never easy to work with. She didn’t respond well to pressure, and she needed a lot of approval, a lot of attention. Leona isn’t one to pamper anyone, even a good dancer.”
    â€œThat’s true,” Melanie added. “As smart as Paulie was, as talented, she didn’t have as much self-confidence as she should have had. I was always having to talk her into trusting herself. And she was very superstitious. She was always talking about luck—good luck, bad luck. She carried charms and—”
    â€œOh, I’d forgotten.” Julie jumped up and hurried out of the room. The whole group looked at Melanie, but she shook her head to indicate she didn’t know what Julie had forgotten.
    Julie was back in seconds. “A few days after the accident, her parents stopped by—they were a mess—but they thought I might understand this. Paulie did stay and talk to me a lot. I’m sorry, Melanie. I know you and Paulie were close. The Highway Patrol had given them Paulie’s purse—it was thrown clear of the—the fire.”
    Melanie took the note that Julie handed her and shared it with Bryan. He hoped Melanie was all right. Her face was white and the circles under her eyes even darker. The note was handwritten in blue ink, a flowing, feminine style.
    Melanie nodded. “That’s Paulie’s handwriting.”
    Bryan read it aloud. “I divorce myself from the influence of this place. I care nothing for what is here; nor bother myself with judgment. Also, I seek no communication with what might surround me. It is all beyond my eyes; it is all beyond my ears. I am the garden which I tend. I am also its wall.”
    â€œHer parents asked if I thought it was a suicide note,” said Julie. “I told them no way was Paulie suicidal.”
    Melanie slowly shook her head in agreement. “But it doesn’t make any sense to me. What’s this it’s stapled to?” She lifted the note.
    Hank and Seth moved to look over Bryan’s shoulder. “It’s two tarot cards,” said Melanie. “The Nine and the Six of Swords.”
    â€œYou know the cards?” Seth asked. “Melanie, you’re always full of surprises.”
    â€œPaulie and I played with them for a time. It was fun.” Melanie took the cards and the note. Her voice was hoarse, an octave lower, caught by emotion.