The Prima - Chapter Five

The next morning, Trixie prepped to interview people involved with the ballet, while Dan would stay with Katarina.

“Director Pierre Léontard,” Dan said, biting into a bagel. “The background check I ran last night says his real name is Peter Leon. He fancied it up with the French variation to sound more important and give him street cred in the industry.” Dan rolled his eyes. “The funny thing is Trix and I encountered someone with a very similar name over twenty years ago. Definitely not the same guy though.”

“I didn’t even make that connection,” Trixie grimaced at the memory. “I had forgotten about him.”

“He’s a pompous ass,” Katarina said, sitting on the sofa and braided her hair. “He’s always trying to tell me how to move. Like I, the prima ballerina, don’t know how to move!”

Trixie sipped her coffee and slathered a bagel with cream cheese, aware of Katarina eyeing her food. She had brought plenty of bagels and offered one to the dancer, but unsurprisingly, Katarina had declined, preferring to nibble on a banana and a slice of cantaloupe that she had requested Trixie get for her.

“Who else hates you?” Trixie asked before taking a big bite of her bagel.

“Everyone,” Katarina sniffed. “The prima is always hated because we get the best of everything.”

“Who really hates you?” Trixie clarified.

“Angela. Julie. Marie. Carla.”

“Carla – she’s the one who got your sandwich? The food poisoning?”

“Yes. The dumb cow thinks I tried to poison myself and purposely gave her my sandwich.”

“Is she another understudy?” Dan asked.

Katarina snorted. “Not hardly. She is no threat at all. She will never be a prima. She will never be more than a second-string corps dancer. We just both happened to order turkey sandwiches that day.”

“Second string? Trixie asked. “Like in sports, where the second string is the middle of the pack.”

“Basically,” Katarina agreed. “If I was going to poison someone, that bitch Angela would be my target!”

Dan and Trixie exchanged a glance.

“I so much as sniffle and she’s drooling to take over,” Katarina stabbed her melon with the fork. “She waits for an illness or injury so she can push me out the door!”

“We’ve already talked to Angela, so let’s move on. Anyone else? You mentioned Julie, but she’s background, er, corps, right?”

Katarina nodded and took a drink of her water. “She is too nice to me. She hates me because she knows she will never be as good as me. But no one is that nice naturally.”

Trixie made a note. They didn’t have time to interview the entire troupe. The final performance was the following day. They had to keep Katarina alive and safe.

***

“Are you sure you don’t want some real food?” Dan asked. “Got plenty of extra bagels here.”

“I cannot,” she sighed, her eyes on the carb-laden treat.

“You ever eat real food?” he asked.

Sadness crossed her face “No. Not if I want to stay prima. I gain a pound and Rick will complain even more about having to lift me. If my leotards fit differently, it’s like chum in the water and the sharks circle to take over. Maybe once I retire, I can enjoy food again.”

“Life is short,” Dan said quietly. “And so is the career of a prima. But you shouldn’t deny yourself physical pleasures, and eating a New York bagel, especially this bagel, is one of those pleasures.”

“I…” she kept staring at it, as Dan smeared cream cheese on it.

Dan held it out to her and she swallowed as she stared at it. Finally, she reached out and took it, her hand shaking.

“It won’t hurt you,” he said softly.

He smiled as she raised it to her lips and bit into it. Her eyes closed and she moaned as she chewed.

“My God,” she murmured, picking up a napkin and dabbing at her mouth. “That’s amazing.”

“Best deli in the borough,” he said smugly.

She took another bite, and then another, and within minutes she had devoured it, moaning and murmuring to the point Dan’s thoughts had wandered deep into a sexual nature. Something about watching her enjoy the breakfast so thoroughly, turned him on. She was quite pretty, he thought, when she wasn’t being a bitch.

He handed her a cup of coffee, which she sipped. She refused the orange juice.

Dan chuckled as she licked the cream cheese from her fingers.

“That’s was…so good. Beyond,” she finally said.

“See what you’re missing?” he teased.

She nodded. “Yes, but I can’t eat that every day.”

“I’m not saying you need to,” he sipped his coffee. “But maybe you can stop denying yourself every pleasure known, and learn to enjoy simple things on occasion.”

“And what sort of simple things do you enjoy?” she asked coyly.

Dan felt a stir below his belt. Don’t sleep with the clients, he thought. Trixie would have his head—both of them. He had made the mistake on occasion, and really didn’t need to repeat it. Trixie always found out and would go off on him and how it was bad for business.

“Plenty of them. And I work out all the time, because of it. I won’t deny myself an occasional indulgence out of some kind of fear,” he answered.

He was distracted as she delicately licked a bit of cream cheese from the corner of her mouth, wondering what her lips would feel like against his. He generally preferred his women curvier but once her walls were down, and he saw her humanity peek through, he found himself thinking about Katarina.

“And what are your indulgences, Mr. Mangan?” she asked, fixing her dark eyes on him.

Suddenly Dan had trouble focusing. “My indulgences?” he repeatedly stupidly.

“You are in excellent physical condition; you are exceptionally good looking and I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. You strike me as a man of flesh.”

“Man of flesh?” he chuckled. That was a new turn of phrase.

“I think your indulgences are of the flesh, am I correct?” She smiled at him.

Dan’s thoughts took a hard left turn to where he shouldn’t. Trixie would kill him, he thought. But the way she was looking at him, in her thin tank top and leggings…small, pert breasts catching his eye…

“I don’t sleep with my clients,” he said softly.

She giggled. “Liar.”

“If the circumstances were different, I wouldn’t hesitate.” He looked her in the eye.

She moved closer to him. “Are you sure about that?” she purred.

***

Fifteen minutes after leaving Dan’s apartment, Trixie was at the theatre, and tracking down Pierre Léontard. He was yelling at the lighting guys, having them inch light streams over left and right.

“Mr. Léontard,” she called, approaching him.

He turned, eyes sweeping over her and turned away.

“Mr. Léontard,” she put an edge to her voice.

“I’m busy. Francis will get you whatever you need.”

“Mr. Leon!” she snapped.

That made him turn, eyes wide.

“Yes, I know your real name. Now I need ten minutes of your time, and I need it now.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the petite blonde.

“What do you want?”

Trixie pulled out her phone and hit record. “Talk to me about Katarina.”

“That stuck up bitch? She thinks she knows more than me about the dance!”

“So do all directors hate their primas?” she asked.

He sighed, running his hand through his short brown hair. “It’s not unusual. We each think we know better about the dance. Sometimes we can get along. Mostly not. But that bitch is a special kind of diva. She makes everyone here miserable, including me.”

“Why not leave?”

“I was here first!” he snapped. “Frances brought in that bitch and it’s been a nightmare ever since! But directing a troupe with a true prima is better than not, and there aren’t many openings. So, it’s best to stick it out and suck it up.” His fingers tapped against his leg.

“Would you prefer Angela?”

“God, no. She’s as bad as Katarina, she just sucks up more to me. But I wouldn’t trust either to hold my coffee. Either one would poison it.”

“Any idea who’s out to get Katarina?”

He laughed bitterly, his eye twitching just little bit. “Everyone. Everyone hates her. Everyone has access to the rooms and food. You could arrest anyone here and they’d probably be guilty of trying to hurt her.”

Helpful, Trixie thought.

After a few more minutes of his ranting, Trixie thanked him for his time and left. She headed for the rehearsal rooms, where she found a number of the dancers already warming up. Most were willing to talk to her, but it was more of the same. Everyone hated Katarina, no one fessed up, and everyone pointed her to someone else.

With a sigh, she sat in her car and turned on her laptop. Her fingers skimmed over the keys as her hotspot connected. She ran a few more background checks that Dan hadn’t yet, and reviewed financial records of Katarina, Pierre Léontard, Frances Smith, Angela and a couple others.

While the checks were running, she headed over to Katarina’s hotel room. Since she still had the key, she let herself in and began a thorough search. The night before she had only grabbed a few things, but now she pulled on latex gloves and began to search through Katarina’s luggage. Numerous leotards, extra ballet shoes, many heavily worn, a few pieces of loungewear. Expensive designer slacks and blouses hung in the closet, along with shoes that Trixie would never wear but knew Honey would appreciate.

Katarina had her phone on her, but Trixie found the dancer’s tablet and turned it on. Searching through the browser history, Trixie paused.

“Well, I’ll be,” she muttered. Whipping out her own phone, she sent a fast text to Dan. Hot lead. Keep Katarina there. Heading back.

***

Katarina swallowed hard as she stared at the screen on her tablet, as Trixie held it up to her.

“You’ve been orchestrating the whole thing,” Trixie said quietly.

She shook her head vehemently. “No, No, I haven’t!”

“Then why is your browser full of research on snake’s native to New York, not to mention where to get dead ones? I found the skin in your bag yesterday, but at that point, we were willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Tears filled the dancer’s brown eyes. “You don’t understand.”

“Then make us understand,” Dan snapped. She had been less snotty this morning, actually flirty, and he was almost growing fond of her. “Do you know how serious this is? A girl is dead, another was sickened, you’re wasting thousands of the company’s dollars on us—”

“No, no! that’s not true!” Katarina took a deep breath. “I admit to the snake. I love snakes. I just needed…a distraction, a way to get Frances’ attention. I didn’t feel like Frances was taking me seriously, and I didn’t know he was bringing in you two! I swear, to you both, it isn’t me. I only did the snake because I like them and thought it would make Frances take thing more seriously. I swear, I didn’t do the rest of it!”

Trixie sighed. “She has a valid point, Danno. There’s no other evidence that I could find. Nothing to indicate she had anything to do with the rest of the incidents. No itching powder, or poison of any kind.”

Katarina nodded. “I swear, it wasn’t me. I just wanted Frances to take it seriously! A dead snake was harmless, no one else got hurt!”

Dan rubbed his temples. It was too early in the morning for a headache.

“What’s the next step?” Trixie asked.

Dan sighed and glanced at his watch. “She’s due at the theatre in half an hour.”

“Go ahead and take her. I’ve got some reports running I need to check on.”

Dan nodded, understanding. Trixie’s intuition had her following up another lead.

***

Trixie checked her files, skimming through the financial records. No unusual deposits for anyone. No red flags of sudden wealth.

But then her eyes stopped and she re-read her report. A slow smile spread across her face. A thought connected in her mind.

“Follow the money,” she murmured. “It’s not always who’s got money coming in, but who’s got the money going out, and where that money is going?”

She sent a fast email to Rabbit, the off-the-books hacker they used when they needed him. This required speed, and Trixie was running out of time.

Trixie drummed her fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. She flipped through the files again, double checking.

Her email pinged ten minutes later. Opening it, she chuckled. Rabbit came through as always. A secondary account under a different name, but the deposits matched.

Studying the reports, she picked up her phone, sending a payment to Rabbit’s anonymous third-party payment account. Time to make some calls.

“Hi, it’s Trixie Belden. I think we’ve got our man,” she said to the first person.

***

Dan escorted Katarina to the stage, his eyes sweeping the troupe as they took their places. The curtain was about to go up. Léontard was higher strung than usual, raising Dan’s suspicions. Trixie didn’t trust him after their discussion. Francis was sweating more than usual, he was on his second handkerchief, mopping nonstop at his forehead. It was their final performance in NYC, tomorrow the troupe would get some sightseeing done, and the day after, they’d move on to Washington, D.C.

Angela was shooting death stares at Katarina. Several of the women were eying Dan hungrily. Dan had found a slip of paper in his pocket with Candy’s number written on it. He wondered if any of these women had regular boyfriends. He guessed not, given their tour schedule.

“Break a leg,” Julie said cheerfully to them.

Katarina ignored her.

The dancers moved onstage and Dan knew the curtain would be going up in a few seconds. As the music swelled, Trixie hurried up to him.

With the dancers onstage, she flipped through the reports on her laptop, showing him what she found.

“I talked to the Board,” she shouted in his ear. “It definitely him!”

“We’ll grab him after the show,” Dan answered, bending down to respond. “Let the show go on, I don’t want to tip our hand. Keep your eyes open, in case he makes another move against Katarina.”

Trixie nodded and slipped into the shadows, to take her spot on the other side of the stage.

***

After the final curtain calls and bows, and Katarina was beaming, her arms full of flowers tossed to her on the stage, Dan escorted to her dressing room, after a quick sweep for booby traps. Katarina began her stretches immediately, a big smile on her face as she did so.

“Did you see them? Hear them?” she asked for the sixth time. “They loved me!”

“You were amazing,” he told her, again. He kept an eye on the door, trying not to notice as she stretched her limbs to keep her muscles from seizing. Since their flirtation this morning, he had had to focus very hard when she was nearby. But watching her contort her body and stretch the toned limbs was making it difficult.

“This is why I do not quit! This is what makes it worth it, hearing their shouts, and their love!” she beamed. “This is why I work so hard!”

Dan privately wondered if the suffering was really worth it for some adoration.

The three rapid knocks followed by two more at the door made him tense. It was Trixie.

“Come in,” he called.

The door opened and Francis came in, followed by Trixie. Francis was red faced and sweating as if he had run a marathon. He clutched another handkerchief, rubbing it at his face. His tuxedo shirt was soaked at the neck. Dan wondered if there was ever a time when the man ever didn’t sweat, from anything. It was repugnant.

“Katarina!” he beamed but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Her eyes were cool as she stared at him. “What do you need, Frances? Did you hear them? Did you hear that crowd? How they love me? How they adore me? I hope you think about that the next time you complain about me to the board!”

“Of course, of course. You’ve been marvelous this whole time,” he assured her. “We’ve had full houses both nights, because of your name!”

“So, you’d agree she’s integral to the success of the company?” Dan asked.

“Absolutely, absolutely. Without Katarina, we’d have no prima!”

“So why have you been sabotaging her?” Trixie asked.

Frances paled. “What? What? I—would never—how could you ask me that? I brought you in to find out who’s doing this!”

“You were sloppy, Frances. When we checked all the financials of everyone, we checked for deposits. What we didn’t check until today, were transfers out.”

“Out?” he squeaked. “To who? What are you talking about?”

There was a knock at the door.

“Right on time,” Trixie smiled. Walking to the door, she opened it a crack, then stepped aside to let in Julie, one of the corps dancers. Julie hadn’t taken her stage makeup off yet but she wore her sweats over her leotards to keep her muscles warm.

“You wanted to me see, Katarina?” Julie chirped, in her usual friendly manner.

Katarina scoffed. “No, why would I?”

“I thought…” her voice trailed off as she realized who all was in the room. Trixie stood in front of the door as her eyes darted towards it.

“You’ve made large deposits via bank transfers to an account that we tracked to Julie’s brother.”

Frances’s face burned cherry red as he rounded on the dancer. “I told you! I told you it could be tracked! I knew your brother’s account wasn’t secure enough and you’ve been bleeding me dry!”

“I also made some calls to members of your board. Frances, you’ve been claiming Katarina’s expenses are exceeding the allowance and begging for additional monies.”

“What?” Katarina gasped. “How dare you! I have always stayed within my allowance or I pay for things myself!”

“Funnily enough, those same amounts match what’s been going to Julie. What I haven’t worked out,” Trixie said, “is the why. Julie’s not a prima, and from what we know, has no chance of it. So, what does she have on you? My guess is that she knows you’re the one sabotaging Katarina, and you’re paying her off.”

Frances did a good imitation of a fish, Dan thought, his mouth opening and closing but no words coming out.

“You have no idea the pressure I’m under!” he blurted out. “My God, the pressure to sell out every show, stay under budget, while dealing with this bitch of a diva and the vicious little whores underneath her!”

Katarina’s mouth dropped open as Dan’s eyebrows shot up. Trixie’s eyes narrowed.

“It’s like a swimming pool full of sharks!” Frances shrieked. “The whining, the crying, the backstabbing, the sexual bribes, trying to keep enough people happy that the Board doesn’t fire me!”

“Back up. Sexual bribes?” Trixie asked, grimacing.

“These stupid whores offer themselves up to me at every turn,” Frances snarled, “wanting a bigger role, a better role, a raise, they just whore themselves out to advance their careers!”

“Okay, that’s enough of insulting the women,” Dan said sternly. “Is someone other than Julie blackmailing you?”

“Julie,” Frances spat. “That wh-woman overheard a call with the Board, and has been blackmailing me ever since!”

Julie opened her mouth to protest but quickly shut it when she saw Trixie glaring at her.

“Over what?”

Frances pointed at Katarina, his expression murderous. “That one! That washed up hag is bleeding us dry!”

Katarina gasped, paled, then her cheeks flushed red in humiliation.

“The Board wants to fire her but without her we’d have no prima, and no sales! She’s old and slow but she’s all we can afford! I have pleaded with the board to understand we can’t afford someone more talented and younger!”

“You’re paying out thousands of dollars to keep that hidden?” Dan asked. “I’m not buying it, Bub. What the real scoop?”

“You slept with someone,” Trixie said. “And Julie found out. Or was it Julie?” Trixie turned to the ballerina who had been silent this whole time.

Frances’ face flushed red. “I had too much to drink one night! Julie spotted me with Angela, going to my room. She threatened to tell the board!”

“And fraternizing is a no-no? What about all the dancer hook ups?” Dan asked.

Frances shook his head. “No, it’s strictly forbidden between management and employee.”

“Hence you, and pretty much anyone else.”

Frances nodded miserably.

“So, you were screwing Angela, Julie found out and is blackmailing you. Why have you been going after Katarina? You can’t afford to replace her, so why get rid of her?” Dan asked.

“Because if I leave of my own accord, they do not have to pay me a two-million-dollar settlement fee,” Katarina said suddenly. “If they fire me before I turn thirty, unless I blatantly violate the morals clause in my contract, they owe me two million dollars.”

“That’s a heck of a payday,” Trixie murmured.

“And you don’t have it,” Dan said to Frances.

Frances shook his head. “Between Angela bleeding me dry and—” he stopped abruptly.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, what else?” Trixie demanded.

“He gambles,” Julie blurted out. “He’s in deep debt to a loan shark and he borrowed against the funds of the company!”

“So, you’re bleeding him dry with money he doesn’t even have?” Trixie asked incredulously.

Julie shrugged. “He’s a disgusting worm who tries to fondle the girls and lure them to his room. Figured I should cash in.”

“Say again?” Dan asked.

“That’s a lie!” Frances shouted. “You traitorous, nasty little—”

Dan leapt forward to catch the man as he tried to attack the dancer, who shrieked. Trying to take advantage of the distraction, Julie bolted for the door but Trixie was ready and slammed the taller girl into the door, before forcing her to her knees.

“I think we’ve got enough.” Dan had Frances on his knees as well, his wrists zip-stripped, the overweight man staring daggers at Julie. “Kat, do you want to press charges? At the very least, we need to notify the Board.”

“I…” Katarina sighed. “I do not know. I thought at first but now…he’s so pathetic. And dealing with that little trollop seems to be a nasty punishment.”

Dan was impressed. He had been waiting for a screaming fit of rage to lock the man up.

“Let’s make some calls,” Dan said.

***

An hour later, Frances was in cuffs and arrested for embezzlement, harassment and intent to harm, and Julie was arrested for extortion. Dan suspected there might be a couple of additional charges coming. A few calls to the Board and an emergency meeting later, and he had called in the NYPD. Frances tried to bluster his way out of the charges, Julie pleaded, but Dan held them until the NYPD arrived to arrest them. Trixie took Katarina back to her hotel. One of the Board members would be there in the morning to talk to the group as a whole and start the hiring process to find a new director.

It was almost one in the morning by the time everything was wrapped up.

Dan had just taken a cold beer from the fridge and popped the top off, when there was a knock at his door. He sighed, his plans for a late-night snack of cold pizza put on hold.

He groaned. Who would it be this late? Trixie wouldn’t knock, she’d just barge in, or text to see if he was up. While he was exhausted, he was also energized, and planned to pack away some pizza and a couple beers before going to bed. Then he planned to sleep in late tomorrow. The sofa wasn’t great for long-term sleeping and he was ecstatic to have his bed back tonight.

At the second knock, he rose and went to the door, his hopes dashed that they would go away.

He was startled to see Katarina standing there.

“Kat?” he asked. “What’s wrong?” Looking into the hallway, he pulled her inside quickly. “Are you all right? Did something else happen? How did you get into the building?”

Her answer was to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him full on the lips, catching him off guard. He relaxed into it for a long moment, pulling her closer, when his upstairs brain recovered.

“Uh, what are you doing?” he murmured against her lips.

She pulled away with a mischievous smile, her brunette hair flowing around her shoulders. “Luckily, I came in the door as someone went out, otherwise I would’ve called you. Has it been so long since a woman kissed you that you don’t know what it means?” she teased.

“Enlighten me,” he said dryly.

Her long fingers ran down the front of his t-shirt, and Dan was well aware his body was starting to respond. He hadn’t seen Jazz in a couple of weeks and his body was lonely.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” she said softly. “I like being around you. And since I’m leaving some time tomorrow and may never see you again, I wanted something fun to remember you by.”

One dark eyebrow went up. “Because almost being murdered was fun?”

She laughed and pressed herself against him, kissing his lips gently. “Not the kind of fun I mean.”

“I can’t sleep with my clients,” he said softly, staring into her eyes and cursing his body’s betrayal.

“Technically I was never your client,” she said. “Mr. Hevia hired your company.”

“Semantics,” he murmured, as her hands dropped lower.

“No strings,” she whispered against his ear and Dan groaned inwardly. He hadn’t called Jazz in a couple of weeks and this weekend was his monthly poker game. Dan’s body was responding to Katarina’s touch, and his ears were as sensitive as a Ferengi’s. Dan knew he was lost.

“Why not?” he smiled and drew her closer.




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Author’s Notes
- HUGE thanks to Trish taking this on to edit!
- Word Count, 4,403


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