"Dangerous Rhythm" by Joyce Hinrichs and Jean Sweeney

By Jean Sweeney

Hope and Dottie, the time-traveling teachers from Sedona, Arizona’s Garnet Canyon School of the Arts, indulge their craving for adventure and passion for classic movie musicals when they travel to 1934 Hollywood and the set of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers’ latest song and dance collaboration. Amid RKO Studio’s bevy of celebrities and the art deco-inspired Big White Set, they team up with eager sleuth Ginger Rogers, to solve The Case of the Bumped-off Dancer.

When Hope and Dottie, along with their dancer friend Tina, decide on a whim to locate their time-travel rock in a Sedona wash in order to visit the set of The Gay Divorcee, research for the upcoming Garnet talent show turns from a madcap caper into a murder investigation. Carmen, the missing dancer, is an enigma: who was she, who were her friends and who was her worst enemy, the person vengeful enough to leave her dead in a soundstage wardrobe closet? Keen and witty Ginger, a great fan of Agatha Christie novels, arranges for Tina to be hired as a replacement dancer and enlists the girls from Sedona as movie-lot sleuths. The inept Detective Chandler is not pleased.
Detecting at RKO and the Hollywood of an earlier time brings Ginger and her partners to the star-studded Cafe Trocadero, a house party at the celebrated Pickfair estate, dress rehearsal for Hope’s favorite “Night and Day” number, a séance to determine if the set is indeed cursed, and trysts in shadowy corners of the soundstage; the suspects mount.

They have limited time to play sleuth, dashing between the two eras as their commitments (and Dottie’s budding pregnancy) permit. During one of their Sedona interludes, after Tina’s flamenco performance, she meets Kyle, a handsome, vulnerable park ranger with an ambiguous past, which makes her doubt her decision to work in movie musicals. Meanwhile, preparations for the Garnet talent show, “From Bell Rock to Broadway: A Sedona Salute to Musicals” continue, featuring selections from 42nd Street, strippers in drag and Hope’s personal tribute to Fred and Ginger with a partner yet to be determined.
Is the perpetrator one of Carmen’s many roommates, her dance partner, a visitor to the set or even the star of the show? Even though Detective Chandler’s investigation wanes, Ginger and pals continue to unravel the truth. With Carmen’s unique pendant as a clue, parts of her violent past are eventually revealed with the assistance of Hope and Dottie’s friend and colleague Frank Begay and his contacts in northern Arizona’s Canyon de Chelly, an extraordinary place of spiritual energy.
After the pieces fall into place, Hope and Dottie are disappointed when justice does not seem to be served. It takes a violent storm at Flagstaff, Arizona’s Riordan Mansion to bring a sort of divine justice and afterwards, a sense of tranquility. Dottie considers the wonders of pending motherhood and Hope fondly remembers her brush with Fred Astaire as they ponder the spider web-like intricacies of the universe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jean Sweeney
• Release date: Jul 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301820887

Jean Sweeney

Joyce Hinrichs, a retired special education teacher and high-school principal, lives in Tempe, Arizona, with her husband. When she’s not reading, writing, or traveling, she enjoys working with disabled young adults and dabbling in watercolors. Jean Sweeney of Gilbert, Arizona, also a retired teacher, has a background in school libraries, curriculum and employment readiness. She works part-time for the local community college district and in her spare time reads, writes, takes dance classes and spends time with family.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Dottie leapt from the rust-colored boulder she’d been sitting on. Her baseball cap tumbled to the rocky ground; her hands clasped her back side.

Her companion jumped to her feet as well. What? Scorpion bite you on the butt? Tina began to examine the rock they’d been resting on while brushing the seat of her own jeans.

Not exactly. Dottie turned toward the third hiker who was a hundred yards further down the wash. Hope! She cupped her hands on either side of her mouth. Get back here right now. This rock is hot!

Be right there! Hope trotted back, leaping over rocks in the wash, her brown ponytail flopping.

The boulder was roughly the size and shape of a small rowboat, pointed at the front, flat at the back with a slight depression on the top that invited one to sit. Its bright orange color stood out among the smooth, gray stones that filled the wash, hinting that this wash wasn’t always as dry as it was today. There were a dozen similarly colored boulders dotting the wash floor in this vicinity, remnants of past rock slides from the cliff towering above them, made of the brilliant red and orange rock that Sedona, Arizona, was so famous for.

Tina placed her hands on top of the red boulder. It’s a little warm, of course. But then, it is sitting in the sun. That’s why you wanted to stop and rest here isn’t it?

Dottie smiled. Yes, it certainly is.

What about the rock? Hope was panting by the time she arrived. What do you mean it’s hot? You mean like sun hot or like vortex hot?

Absolutely magical heat. Dottie patted the flat top of the boulder. I felt a vibration, like an electrical current.

Probably just the baby quickening. Hope pointed to Dottie’s slightly protruding stomach. Four months, that’s about the time.

This is no baby vibration. Sit down and try it yourself.

Hope slid her bottom onto the top of the boulder, rocked back and forth, and settled in. A smile widened on her face as she stared at Dottie. You, little mother, are correct. This rock is trembling with supernatural energy. I can’t believe it! Hope jumped off the rock and raised two hands in Dottie’s direction for high-fives. We’re in business again!

Woo-hoo! Dottie slapped Hope’s hands. Where shall we go this time?

Tina sat down on the purportedly enchanted rock to watch the celebration. What on earth are you two crazy women talking about? My ass is perched on a rock like all the other red rocks in Sedona. Nothing supernatural about it.

You couldn’t be more wrong, Hope said. Get ready for the time of your life.

Chapter 2

Dottie stopped short on the crowded sidewalk of RKO Studios, causing Tina to run into her. It’s like a circus parade.

Indeed it is, but even more amazing, a nineteen-thirty-four circus parade in Hollywood. Tina rubbed her nose where it had bumped the back of Dottie’s skull. Who would believe this?

All three stopped to stare at the odd collection of characters streaming by them along the narrow main street. Women in pioneer dresses walked side-by-side with friends in ballet tutus. Cowboys held hands with hula girls. Men in tuxedos accompanied women with Turkish towels wrapped around their heads. As if to give credence to Dottie’s circus observation, two young men in trapeze-artist tights jostled past her with brief apologies.

All that’s lacking is a string of elephants. Hope grabbed Dottie’s arm to pull her friend along.

Nice butts, Tina observed before the tights disappeared into the crowd. And look, here come the clowns. Harpo Marx sauntered toward them, bright checkered jacket flapping in the breeze, yellow curls fluttering, in animated conversation with a laughing woman wearing a maid’s ruffled apron and cap. The girls gaped but kept moving against the flow of pedestrians.

You know, we probably look as strange to them as they do to us. Hope pulled on the brown ponytail sticking out of the back of her Arizona Diamondbacks baseball cap. Like her, Tina and Dottie both wore denim shorts and t-shirts. Dottie’s t-shirt fell halfway down her thighs and Tina’s, short and tight, showed off a pierced bellybutton below the Sedona loves Dancers stretched across her chest. All three wore white athletic shoes which looked as foreign as pixie slippers among the oxfords and wedge-heeled sandals of the other women.

Tina’s springy mop of long black frizz was unsuccessfully held out of her face by an orange beaded scrunchie. Dottie ran her hand over her own short cap of red curls, but they remained as unruly as ever. You are absolutely right, Hope. We fit right in.

They stepped off the curb to allow three giggling teen-aged girls in bathrobes to pass. Each had a cigarette in her hand and a flowery scarf tied around a head full of bobby pins.

Man, I forgot about pin curls. Tina tucked a wild bit of hair behind her ear.

And cigarette smoke. Dottie waved her hand below her nose.

A lot of things have changed in seventy-five years, Hope observed. This is just the beginning of the culture shock one can expect when time-traveling.

I guess you’d be the expert, Tina said.

A car horn sounded behind them. Tina, Dottie and Hope jumped back to the sidewalk as the crowd parted for a small, red convertible making its way down the street. The driver honked again and grinned as the black Chow in the passenger seat barked in reply. The car rolled slowly by, the driver exchanging greetings with many of the pedestrians while his companion continued to bark with abandon, dotting the red paint of the car door with drool.

Tina leaned into Hope’s ear as they followed the car’s progress. I think that’s Clark Gable.

Really? Wow, he’s gorgeous. Hope gawked.

No wonder the girls flocked to Mexico with him, Dottie said.

They did?

That’s the story. Dottie shrugged.

A small man in a Derby hat, oversized coat and toothbrush moustache leaned seductively over a tiny waif dressed in rags, her short, brunette hair styled in tight finger waves. She smiled as she took a cigarette from his mouth and put it into hers.

Charlie Chaplin? Tina asked.

Could only be, Hope answered.

Hey, I smell food. Dottie interrupted their gossip. And, as usual, I’m hungry. Let’s duck in here and get lunch. She steered them through a nondescript doorway into a cluttered cafeteria.

Must be the studio commissary. Not much ambiance, huh? Hope glanced around the large and noisy room, painted a sickly yellow-green with a cracked linoleum floor of black and white squares, and cluttered with dozens of metal chairs and tables. All appeared to be full at the moment.

Dottie had already cued up behind half a dozen cowboys and two carpenters at a short deli-style display case in the corner. Hope and Tina ordered coffees and commandeered a small table in the corner that three men in khaki jungle-explorer garb were vacating. They were clearing off the dirty plates and cups from the previous occupants and wiping down the table with piles of napkins when Dottie arrived carrying a huge bowl of ice cream covered in chocolate syrup in one hand and a glass of tomato juice in the other. She smiled as she set them down.

There’s brownie under that ice cream. She pointed her spoon at the mound of vanilla and fell into her chair.

Dottie, we just ate breakfast an hour ago. How can you be this hungry already? Aren’t you even a little bit morning sick? Hope handed her a fistful of napkins.

Not anymore, Dottie said. I’m just hungry and horny and pregnant. I’ll thank you to remember that I am eating for two.

Sometimes it seems like you’re eating for six. Maybe you’re expecting quintuplets, Tina said.

Doctor says there’s only one, but who knows. Dottie licked chocolate sauce off the back of her spoon. The more the merrier as far as I’m concerned.

I’m not sure how much trust I’d put in a doctor who says it’s OK for a pregnant woman to travel more than seven decades into the past. Tina scowled.

Well, I didn’t exactly mention time-travel, Dottie confirmed between bites. But he did say it was fine for me to travel when I told him I was going on a long trip. I figured that was the same thing. In fact, travel through a time vortex seems less stressful to me than taking a jet, all that waiting around in airports and sitting for hours on an airplane with only one available bathroom.

And we did add extra black onyx to our crystal amulets for safe passage, Hope said.

Tina pulled on the satin cord around her neck until she held a handful of colorful stones entwined with silver wire in the palm of her hand. You guys are unbelievable. How on earth did you ever figure out that this combination of rocks could serve as a passport to the past?

Just a little magic we learned from a shaman friend of ours. You know Frank Begay of the Raven Wellness Center? Dottie asked.

Samantha Begay’s uncle? You learned how to travel through time from Samantha’s Uncle Frank?

Indirectly, Hope said. We learned it from one of his followers a while back. He doesn’t know for sure that we know.

Although he may have an inkling. Dottie scraped brownie from the bottom of the bowl with abandon. He is a shaman after all.

Hope nodded. And why should shamans have all the fun, right?

Dottie gulped her tomato juice and held the glass in front of her for closer inspection. I really crave tomato juice these days. Must be the salt. She picked up the shaker and added more along with a squeeze of lime.

Hope’s nose wrinkled in disgust watching Dottie alternate between the juice and her chocolate sundae. We thought the gig was up when a flash flood destroyed our travel vortex.

Tina nodded. The pile of rocks you took me to last month, right?

Yeah, Hope answered. There used to be a cave in that spot on the cliff that we traveled through, but it was destroyed in a rock slide. When Dottie discovered that ‘hot rock’, we knew the magic was still there.

Dottie pushed her empty ice cream dish away and wiped up the brownie crumbs she had dropped on the table. The moment I sat on that rock, I knew it was a remnant of the vortex that was there before the cave-in. I could feel the electricity. And you thought it was just the baby moving.

You were absolutely right. And here we are. Tina began swinging the amulet of crystals before Dottie’s nose like a hypnotist. "And now we can observe the actual filming of The Gay Divorcee. Imagine, just think of it and you’re there. That’s magic, all right. What fun!"

This is serious research, not just fun, Hope said. I want to do the ‘Night and Day’ number in the school talent show. It’s so romantic. I can just picture Will and me on stage. She began humming the song and swaying from side to side until a blond woman from the next table reached over and grabbed Tina’s amulet in mid-swing.

Chapter 3

Say, that’s an interesting piece of jewelry. It’s really just a blob of rocks, but so pretty when it catches the light. The woman pulled the cord out of Tina’s hand and began swinging it over her table. They sparkle like true gems. Where’d you get this?

Got it at a little rock shop in Arizona. Tina reached for the amulet. It’s custom made. Some even say it’s magical.

The blond snatched the necklace out of Tina’s reach and swung it toward her companion. What do you think, Hedda? This is kind of pretty, isn’t it? Unique.

The companion, a tall and slender woman with a frizz of gold hair, pulled her large glasses down on her nose and peered over the black frames with startling green eyes. It might be nice done in sapphires and rubies, but I’d dump the black cord.

The blond swung the amulet before her eyes again. I suppose you’re right. She handed it back to Tina. It is unusual, though. You’re kind of unique yourself, aren’t you? What do you call that hair style, anyway? She turned her chair around to include Tina, Hope and Dottie in the conversation. You girls working a production here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.

Oh, no, we’re just visiting. Hope pointed to Tina’s head. And that hair style is called a ponytail.

The blond laughed. Her blue eyes glowed with humor. That’s a good name for it. Looks like a good way to keep your hair out of the way, but I’m not sure I like the comparison of my head to a horse’s rear end. That hair ornament is rather pretty, though.

It’s called a scrunchie. Tina removed it and handed it to the blond who immediately wrapped it around her own hair, creating a short, white bristled tail that stuck straight out from the back of her head.

How do I look, Hedda? The blond girl laughed. She stood up, addressing people at neighboring tables. Do I look like a pony to you? She enjoyed the attention as her neighbors laughed and pointed.

Where’re you visiting from? her older companion asked them. Paramount? I hear their commissary has lousy food. Lots of their people come over here to eat. By the way, I’m Hedda Hopper. She trained her green eyes on Hope. Who are you?

Ms. Hopper, so glad to meet you, Hope gushed. I’m Hope Bloom. My friends are Dottie Stout and Tina Ortiz. We’re all teachers at a private art school in Arizona. Tina and I teach dance and Tina dances professionally. Hope turned to the blond woman. Are you Ginger Rogers, by any chance?

Yes, I am Ginger Rogers. She clasped Hope’s outstretched hand. It occurred to hope that it might not have been common for women to shake hands in nineteen thirty-four. "It’s so nice to be recognized by a dance instructor. You know me from the Carioca in Flying Down to Rio, I’ll bet."

Hope pulled her hand back before offering it to Hedda Hopper. "Of course, we all saw you in Flying Down to Rio. You were wonderful."

Ms. Rogers, Tina interrupted, are you working on The Gay Divorcee right now?"

Call me Ginger, hon. Yes, we’re right in the middle of rehearsals. I just happen to be off today, but I came in to lunch with my good friend, Hedda.

Have you started the ‘Night and Day’ number yet? Tina asked.

No, Fred and Hermes are still working out some of the steps. A crease sprang up between Ginger’s brows . I’m surprised you know about that number.

Hope shrieked. It’s always been my favorite!

Excuse me? Ginger looked further confused.

"I mean from Broadway. You know, from The Gay Divorce, on Broadway." Hope backpedaled.

"Hedda, I don’t remember that number in The Gay Divorce, do you?" Ginger turned to her friend who looked up momentarily from her notebook and pen.

"I don’t remember either, but I do know that many of the songs were changed. I guess we could ask Fred. He was in the Broadway production. I do know that the producers wanted to divorce themselves, pardon the pun, from the concept of a divorce being a happy thing so that’s why it’s now called The Gay Divorcee. New moral codes and all that, you know."

Of course. Hope nodded. "We are great fans of The Gay Divorcee, though. That’s what we came to see. Where are they rehearsing?"

Hope ducked just in time to miss being hit by a flying Derby hat. What the hell!

I’m out of here! The scream came from the front door. I won’t be pushed around like this!

A tall, skeletal man in a white shirt and bow tie smashed both hands on the top of the table nearest the door. The occupants jumped up and moved away. That little bitch is going to take everything I have. Do you hear me? Everything I have now and everything I’ll have in the future. He sat in one of the vacated chairs and put his head in his hands.

He stood again and addressed the room. I’m out of here folks. I’m saying goodbye. This is the end of me in Hollywood. A man approached him, talking softly and pushed him gently toward the door. No, I’m back to London, Bill. Ollie can come or he can stay, up to him. He faced the room again before he turned to go. It’s all just a game, folks. Remember what I’m telling you. This is not real life. Real life stinks! He ducked out the door.

Hope picked up the Derby and handed it to Ginger with questions in her eyes. Ginger brushed it off with a smile. Stan Laurel. Yes, poor Stan. He’s having such a tough time. His wife is suing him for divorce. Looks like Lois has a good lawyer, too. He’s furious. Of course, he has only himself to blame. Everyone knew he was messing around with Virginia Rogers. Knowing that probably makes him even madder. She set the hat in the middle of the table. We’ll just leave it here. He’ll come to his senses and be back for it later.

Think he’ll really go back to England? Hedda scribbled furiously in her notebook.

Ginger hesitated for a minute. Maybe he will. He’s awful mad. But then he’s mad a lot lately. Who knows what he’ll do?

Tina smiled. I predict he’ll stay and Laurel and Hardy will become legendary comedy stars. Dottie and Hope glanced at one another and smiled.

From your mouth to God’s ear. Ginger pointed to the ceiling as she stood. Got your story, Hedda?

Oh yeah! Hedda snapped her notebook closed and got to her feet. Thanks to Stanley, the gossip pages will sizzle. She was tall, a head taller than Ginger. Where are you off to?

I’m going to the set. I want to talk one more time to Walter Plunkett about the new gown. Ginger’s face lit up. I’ve got some great ideas. It will look wonderful on me. Wait till you see it!

Hedda left the cafeteria after hugs and cheek kisses. Ginger turned to Tina, Hope and Dottie. You girls want to tag along? I think they’re rehearsing the ensemble number for The Continental today. It’s very nice. And the set is grand. Come along and I’ll sneak you in.

Hope hopped to her feet. Thanks, we’d love to, wouldn’t we girls? Dottie and Tina nodded.

Hope and Ginger walked down the crowded sidewalk ahead of Tina and Dottie. The star was much smaller than Hope had imagined, several inches shorter than Hope herself. She wore a slender tweed skirt that fell just below her knees with a pale blue silk shirt tucked in and held with a narrow leather belt. She wore ankle socks and brown leather loafers. Her walk was graceful and athletic. Nearly everyone noticed her as she passed, maybe because she radiated such energy or maybe because she still wore the scruffy ponytail.

I usually don’t go to the commissary. I bike down to my mobile dressing room to eat most days, Ginger said. But I always make an exception for Hedda. She’s good to me in her column. Maybe because my mother gave up that job for her shortly after we came to Hollywood. Anyway, Hedda only writes the best stuff about me. Not like that bitchy Luella Parsons. I won’t give her the time of day. She raised her hand to her hair. Oh, I forgot to give you your ponytail thing. She ripped it out and handed it to Tina who was making every effort to control her curls by hand.

Never mind. You keep it. It might come in handy for biking.

You’re right. It might. Ginger slipped it on as a shiny orange bracelet. Thanks. Here’s the production stage door. I’m going to Walter’s office so you three are on your own from here. Try to be invisible. Stay around the edges so you don’t get in the way. And don’t tell them I’m the one who let you in.

Tina put her finger to her lips. We won’t tell a soul.

Chapter 4

Ginger used a key to open a door distinguished from dozens of other doors only by a large thirty-two painted in the middle. Shh! She warned them one last time before disappearing down a long hall to the right.

Tina, Hope and Dottie pressed themselves against the wall for a few minutes. To their left they heard the distant sounds of people shouting, horns blaring and feet tromping. Hope pointed toward the commotion and Dottie and Tina followed her down a long, dark corridor.

They entered a huge, high-ceilinged warehouse that held an elaborate white stage front surrounding a huge wooden dance floor. Shiny white stairs at the back of the dance floor led to a second stage spreading in an arc in both directions. Every few feet there was a sparkling column encircled by ropes of plastic ivy. A revolving glass door in the center of the facade aligned with the staircase. Strands of fuchsia flowers trailed down from fake balconies on the rising two-story set.

Dottie stopped to stare. Ginger’s right. This is grand.

Hope stopped at Dottie’s side. It’s a real art-deco fantasy. It looks even grander in real life than it does in the movie.

I see the musicians and the dancers are here. They must be about ready to begin the rehearsal, Tina said. Let’s find a spot out of the way where we can watch without being discovered.

They inched their way around the edge of the set trying to look as much like furniture as possible. Keeping their eyes on the floor, they stepped carefully over electrical cords, instrument cases, and coffee cups. They settled themselves into some folding chairs in a shadowy area between the band and the stage.

This is perfect, Tina whispered. We can see the whole dance floor from here.

The set was teeming with people and, although several were shouting and pointing, there appeared to be little order. The musicians were sliding chairs and music stands around, warming instruments, and chattering loudly. Dancers milled around on the wooden floor. Some were practicing moves, but most were slouched on the floor, stretching and conversing. Some seemed to be napping. Women wore shorts or dancing tights, men loose pants and tight knit shirts.

Hope’s eyes darted, her mouth gaped, childlike. Gosh. Don’t you wish this was the dress rehearsal? I just loved those Continental dresses, didn’t you? The ones with the flames on the bottom?

Tina placed a hand on Hope’s arm. I loved those princess gowns. I always wondered what color they were. You have to guess when the movie is black and white. What do you think? Were The Continental outfits black and white or red and white?

I’m thinking red and white would be striking, Hope answered. And that beautiful dress for the ‘Night and Day’ number? I assume that’s the one that Ginger is conferring with the designer about today. Remember it? The backless one with the ruffles on the bodice and sleeves? I loved that dress. I thought for so long that it was white and then I realized it could be any pastel color.

I pictured it pink. But, you know, Ginger would look good in a pale blue.

"I also loved that black satin dress she wore in Roberta, the one with the jewel on the front. It was so sexy. But come to think about it, it might have been blue or maybe even purple, for all I know."

Dottie nodded agreement. Purple would be cool. When did they start making Fred and Ginger movies in color?

"Not until Swing Time. That’s two years from now."

What a shame, Dottie said. It sounds like they missed a lot of beautiful costuming.

That they did. Tina’s attention was drawn to a group of especially noisy people stepping from the back of the glowing white set only a few feet from their hiding place. The group of four men stopped in front of them.

So where is she, Tito? The tall man in a blue cardigan seemed to be in charge.

A short, thin man mopped his forehead with a large handkerchief. How the hell should I know, Mark? I’m just her partner, not her keeper. She was here this morning. I saw her. Ask Ann. I think she drove here with her.

Ann! Mark shouted toward the lounging dancers. A young woman wearing red shorts and a bandana to hold back her short brown bob, stood up in the middle of the dance floor. He motioned his hand in the air. Get over here.

What’s going on? Dottie whispered.

Looks like someone’s in trouble, Tina answered.

Hope shushed them and leaned back as far into the shadows as her metal chair would allow.

Ann trotted over the dance floor, leaping over several bodies along the way.

Yeah, Mark? She chomped on her gum. You need me?

Mark spoke slowly, trying to control his anger. No, Ann, I need Carmen. Do you know where Carmen is?

Ain’t she here? Ann turned to the dance floor and looked over the crowd. She rode in with me this morning. She’s got to be here. Carmen? Carmen? You out there?

No one answered. Few paid any attention at all.

That’s funny ‘cause I been here over an hour. Did you check the commissary? How about the john? Maybe she’s having a smoke in the street?

Tito shook his head, his pencil moustache wiggling like a caterpillar. She doesn’t smoke.

Mark exploded. Then where the hell is she? You have fifteen minutes to find her or we’ll have to call the whole rehearsal off. There’s no sense practicing one couple short and I’m not paying all these people to sit around and wait for one inconsiderate dancer. John and Mel, get a couple of light men back here to fix these spots like they’re supposed to be. What a God-awful mess! Mark stomped away with John and Mel following in his footsteps.

Oh, my God, this is horrible. Tito continued wiping his face with his handkerchief. If that stuck-up bitch causes me to lose this job, I’ll kill her. She never thinks about anyone but herself. Now she’s got us both in trouble with Mark and the whole crew will have to pack up and go home and we’ll all lose a day’s pay.

Ann stomped her foot. Stop sniveling, Tito. She’s got to be here somewhere. I hope she’s not sick or nothing like that. We got ten minutes to find her. We’ll get everyone to help. She turned to the dance floor, put a hand on each side of her mouth and shouted. "Hey, you guys. We need to find Carmen Lane. You know her, Tito’s partner, the quiet one with the black bob and big