Dance for the Alligator

By Alice Millar

DANCE FOR THE ALLIGATOR is a window into the minds of key characters in a grisly murder. The story is set in a small town on Floridas west coast. LOVELY KNIGHT is a bawdy but beautiful, nude, dancing girl. As ELLIE ROSSI, she goes home to a quiet, middle class, lakeside, residential development from a nights work at the local, sleazy, exotic dancing lounge known as the Death Valley Lounge and Liquor.

NEIL BARNES, a senior detective in the Sheriffs office, Town of Newport, has a difficult time reconciling the story of the lovely wife and mother, with the dancer notorious for her horse and rider routine. The guys play galloping music, make neighing sounds, and paw the floor with one foot when I do the horse with my hands on my knees and my ass facing the crowd, blonde pony tail swinging.

ALISON COOPER, an attractive tourist from London who is also a detective back home, arrives on the scene and is pleased to help Neil with his case. The moment he looked at her he hoped she would play and even more important part in his life.

Meanwhile a cunning, sociopathic murderer, is laughing up his sleeve because his impeccable reputation and his ingenious method of getting rid of the body is shielding him from suspicion. He is depending on his friends, the alligators, but whose side are they on?

The first-person presentation of DANCE FOR THE ALLIGATOR enables the reader to look into the psyche of all the characters, showing places where meanness, fear, jealousy, and aberrant sexual desire hide.

What is the clue that finally makes Neil think the unthinkable? In which arena will he find the murderer? Will it be the boisterous, sweaty, smokey, lounge or the quiet, neighborhood around Orange Lake?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 25, 2001
• ISBN: 9781453582787

Alice Millar

Born in Brooklyn, New York, Alice Millar lives on Floridas Gulf coast, with Mattie, her Welsh corgi. For fifteen years the author worked at a center for the treatment of mental health including addiction. Those subjects remain her literary thread, as in her first book of this series, DANCE FOR THE ALLIGATOR.

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Copyright © 2001 by Alice Millar.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

PROLOGUE

CLAY NORRIS

ELLIE ROSSI—

LOVELY KNIGHT

ROSE THORNE

TONY

ELLIE ROSSI—

LOVELY KNIGHT

MARC TYRONE

NEIL BARNES

PETER ROSSI

ELLIE ROSSI—

LOVELY KNIGHT

ROSE THORNE

CLAY NORRIS

ELLIE ROSSI—

LOVELY KNIGHT

CAROL TYRONE

ELLIE ROSSI—

LOVELY KNIGHT

CLAY NORRIS

ELLIE ROSSI—

LOVELY KNIGHT

CLAY NORRIS

PETER ROSSI

CLAY NORRIS

PETER ROSSI

SHERIFF’S DEPUTIES,

SITWELL AND PAPP

MARC TYRONE

BERNICE MACIK

MOIRA HARPER

IAN HARPER

CHARLIE MACIK

MOIRA HARPER

DEPUTY SITWELL

MARC TYRONE

SERGEANT MATTHEW

HALLOWAY

CLAY NORRIS

SERGEANT MATTHEW

HALLOWAY

NEIL BARNES

SERGEANT MATTHEW

HALLOWAY

BERNICE MACIK

NEIL BARNES

ALISON COOPER

IAN HARPER

PETER ROSSI

CLAY NORRIS

ROSE THORNE

CLAY NORRIS

MATTHEW HALLOWAY

NEIL BARNES

CLAY NORRIS

MATTHEW HALLOWAY

CONSTANCE HUGHES

NEIL BARNES

CLAY NORRIS

MATTHEW HALLOWAY

NEIL BARNES

ROSE THORNE

MATTHEW HALLOWAY

MOIRA HARPER

ALISON COOPER

MARC TYRONE

NEIL BARNES

CAROL TYRONE

MATTHEW HALLOWAY

NEIL BARNES

CHARLIE MACIK

NEIL BARNES

NEIL BARNES

SUE

ALISON COOPER

NEIL BARNES

NEIL BARNES

ALISON COOPER

CLAY NORRIS

IAN HARPER

ALISON COOPER

MARC TYRONE

NEIL BARNES

NEIL BARNES

ALISON COOPER

NEIL BARNES

MATTHEW HALLOWAY

MOIRA HARPER

MATTHEW HALLOWAY

NEIL BARNES

CLAY NORRIS

CRYSTAL PALACE

NEIL BARNES

MATTHEW HALLOWAY

NEIL BARNES

NEIL BARNES

THIS IS DEDICATED TO BILLY, JEANNE, AND GAIL

AND TO THE MEMORY OF BILL MILLAR

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I owe gratitude and offer my thanks to the following people for their help and encouragement: Beverly Kinchen, members of Writers Block, Constance Colgan, Gail DelBalzo, Esq. Vincent DelBalzo, William Millar, Isobel Millar, Chris and Sis Nielsen, Janet Schneider, Gurli Sorensen, Joe Tadio, Sandy Thieman, and Jeanne Millar White.

PROLOGUE

NEIL BARNES

When time allows and the weather permits, I can be found aboard the Miss Tress, my thirty-foot sloop. To the world I‘m Senior Detective Neil Barnes in the Sheriff’s Office of Chasco County, Florida, but I see myself as a seaman, temporarily beached.

The Miss Tress is easier to handle with one in crew, but there’s nothing like the challenge of being on the water alone. She and I are sailing the Gulf of Mexico, heading due west on a warm, sunny day. I’m deeply inhaling the salty air, and you would laugh if you saw me. Under my blue Bimini shade that’s rigged over the stern to help me avoid the sun, I also have a white cotton hat pulled down low over my forehead, and my dark glasses with the earpieces strung together at the back of my head crown a nose smeared with zinc oxide. Only another redhead would understand.

This January morning promises the nicest day of the year so far, and I’m the luckiest of men to be where I am, doing what I’m doing, which is nothing much. Some days anyway, life is good.

CLAY NORRIS

January 5

Good thing the windows are black so nobody can see me. My plan is workin’ perfect but it’ll fall flat if I can’t act natural. Voice and all, I need to cool it. And the breathin’, my chest is heavin’. I have to cut it out. Better I should be thumpin’ my hand on the steerin’ wheel in time to the country rock on the CD player, and stampin’ my foot on the accelerator makin’ the 454 roar. But not now, I need to cool it down, way down. Hard to do.

Don’t let ’er get suspicious. I got ‘er now. She don’t know it yet but she wants the same as I want. You can always tell. Look at her face, ha! Gives it away. She’s hot. When I find the right place, she’ll beg me to give it to her. Truth is, drivin’ with her in the passenger seat of this totally mean truck of mine on a black misty night, listenin’ to music, is my whole dream comin’ alive. I’ll take the gold ball in my hand, glide into first, stroke her into second, and sock it straight into drive. When we leave here, we will not be headin’ home.

ELLIE ROSSI—

 LOVELY KNIGHT

January 5

It’s lucky you were here, I’d hate to phone Pete this time of the morning. I don’t know one thing about cars, and it frustrates the hell out of me when they don’t work." Slinging my bag over one shoulder I used both hands to lift myself to the cab of his truck. It’s two fifteen, a foggy night, Highway 19, Newport, Florida. Doors slammed and headlights burst on in cars and trucks as the Death Valley Lounge closed for the night. Lights turned off inside the lounge and doors were banged shut and locked. High parking lot lights dimmed in haloes created by the damp air. The only bright spot remaining was under the hood of the telephone booth on the side wall where no phone book hung from a useless, dangling chain. The wrung-out staff of nude dancers, musicians, bouncers, bartenders, and servers, gratefully headed for home waving good night to their friends as they went.

Yeah, lucky. Glad to help. It’s sure no time of night for a woman on her own to get stuck, he said. Weren’t you scared? Don’t sweat your car. I’ll get you home safe tonight and tomorrow I’ll find out what’s wrong with it.

He seemed OK. No sign of booze, but then I knew Clay wasn’t much of a drinker. He drives that pearl white truck stroking the stick shift like it was a woman under his hand.

All I could think about really, was me. The damn thing won’t start, it just clicks. Of all the nights. Not exactly a grand exit scene. Thanks for offering to look under the hood back there, but in the dark . . . No need to explain. He knew what I meant. You’re always around when I need help, seems like. Damn car. Nothing ever just goes good. There’s always a hitch.

When I perform at the Death Valley Lounge, my stage name is Lovely Knight. The joint has a corner location on a busy road that crosses U.S. Highway 19. Half the building is a liquor store, and the other half is the lounge I’m talking about. It’s OK, you can think what you want, but for me it’s a stage and I’m an entertainer. Why does being a nurse or a secretary for shit money give a person any more class than me and the women who dance for a living? I make real bucks, salary and big tips. Beat that.

He seemed relaxed, I felt better too. What a night. I could have danced for hours. Even the damn car can’t change that I had my horse and rider debut at last. I’m still excited. How long were you there? Did you catch my new routine?

He turned to me. Didn’t you see me? I thought for sure you saw me in my regular place. You bet I saw your new dance. Do I ever miss anything you do? You were outstanding!

See, now that’s why I always liked him. At least he comes to see me dance. You think Pete would do that? Oh no. Not his sort of place and all that. With the hard work I do, a few kind words make a difference. It would to anybody, but to me just then after my big night, Clay’s words were all I needed to get warm and twitchy all over. I lifted the back of my hand to my cheek to see if it felt hot, pushed loose strands of my heavy blonde hair up behind each ear, took a deep breath, fastened my seat belt, and tried to calm myself. I couldn’t help the way my breast brushed against him when I leaned over to see myself in the rear view mirror. I hope my face isn’t as red as it feels . . . I can’t seem to catch my breath. I shouted above the hard rock he had on. Did you notice when I shook my pony tail and did that prancing step? What’d you think? Really, tell me what you really thought. It felt good to me. Seemed like it was a hit. I shivered remembering the thrill.

Then when I changed from being the horse, I put on my new Stetson to show I was the rider. Did that come across, do you think? I looked at him for an answer and searched his face for understanding. Seeing him from that angle, silhouetted against the truck window, his large bright eyes, his square jaw and weather toughened skin gave me a feeling of security.

Still, I had a hard time keeping my hands in my lap, I kept fiddling with my hair. I mean first the prancing of the high stepping horse and then the proud rider with her chin in the air.

You dream that up yourself? Terrific. It was terr-if-ic!

Thanks, you’re nice to say that. I worked all week on that transition. That’s what we call it in dancing, real dancing. A transition. Obviously a lot of guys got it. Did you hear them shouting, ‘go Lovely, go, go!’ When I waved my Stetson at the end they went crazy. Who would’ve thought a hat would get that crowd on their feet?

My breath was getting ragged and I couldn’t seem to find enough air. Also, I could hear myself running off at the mouth, but trying to stop wasn’t working and my face was still flushed.

I did try to wear it well. Did you notice the angle, how it was way over my eye? What’d you think? Did it remind you of anyone on Dallas? That’s where I first got the idea and right away I knew it would suit me. I felt like a star tonight. Was I a star? Wait! a stab of surprise shot through me. I leaned closer to the glass to look out the window. What turn was that? This road doesn’t go through. You’ll have to go back the other way. Stop! Where are we going?

Sh, sh, don’t you trust me? Just relax. Leave everything to me. You’re high, Lovely, too high to sleep. You need to talk. No use going straight home where everyone else is sleeping. I thought a drive along the beach would cool us both down. We need it. Don’t we deserve to relax a little after working so hard all day? He flashed that big, good guy smile again and looked my way. I believed every word, because that’s how he talks and he can read my mind.

Well, sure, you’re right, we do. Maybe a short drive would help me simmer down. I felt myself jiggle a little on the seat. Are you really excited like I am?

Yeah sure I feel it too. Why wouldn’t I? You’re not just anybody, you’re special to me. You bet I saw your new dance, I’m gonna remember this night for the rest of my life. You’re a star, you proved it tonight. There wasn’t a man in the room could take his eyes off you. I was so proud. I was out there cheering my head off. You must a heard me.

Was it the hat, you think?

The hat? Yeah that hat—sort of lit you up. Sassy like, but it had nothing to do with TV. Nothing. It was you, Lovely, all the way. You got the crowd jumping up. That joint has never seen anything like it. They couldn’t get enough of you. I can’t get enough of you.

He looked right at me again, and I swear he knew I could feel his words all the way from my throat to between my legs, because that’s when it started. His hand moved onto my leg, and he could probably feel hot skin through my jeans. When I didn’t tell him to stop, he rubbed my thigh inside, and I spread my legs apart, just a little.

Feeling better? I know you knocked me right over. His voice was soft and came from deep in his throat. My heart’s still pounding. Let me see if your heart is pounding.

Reaching up, he fumbled with the buttons on my shirt, and rubbing my breasts softly with the back of his hand, I could feel the nipples hardening, but he kept his eyes on the road.

Staring straight ahead too, my hand shook when I opened my shirt and slipped the bra straps down over my shoulders.

ROSE THORNE

January 6

Lovely walked in for her six to two shift, and said hi. I sat at my make-up table ignoring the chipped and spotted mirror while sorting the paychecks into alphabetical order to make it simple when giving them out. Paychecks got to be my job because of being here the longest. Matter of fact, I was the first dancer hired when this joint opened six years ago. So that gives me seniority which is good, but it makes me sort of ‘mother’ which I could do without.

The other girls, on wooden benches between the lockers, changed from jeans, shirts, and sneakers to their dancing costumes. Only us few ‘stars’ have our own dressing tables, the rest use a central gunky, smelly, all purpose table and mirror. Some, combing their long hair-dos and putting on stage make-up said hi to Lovely too, not taking their eyes off the mirrors. Make-up is serious, and the only thing could interrupt is a long drag on a cigarette.

Every hour on the half-hour we do a ‘show’, and it’s a little special. You could tell it was show time by the busy clack of high heels on the grimy tile floor. Crystal Palace leads the 5:30 big do. She was gliding toward the stage entrance looking like a queen, but when she saw Lovely she stopped to talk. You were really great last night. I wish I could come up with a routine like that. Makes you stand out. I loved it.

I like when the women are nice to each other like that, but a voice from the lockers said, She should look out she doesn’t get too full of herself, and that ruined it.

Lovely ignored the remark, but she looked depressed when she said, Yeah thanks, Crystal, some show all right.

Now that surprised me. I thought Lovely would be on top of the world today. I mean the audience went bananas over her new routine last night. I said, What’s the matter Lovely?

Nothing really. You got my check?

No, I don’t.

How come? Don’t bug me, Rose. You got ‘em all right there. Where’s mine?

Sorry, Lovely, Ed took it. He said he wants to give it to you himself. There was nothing I could do. He’s waiting for you in his office.

What now for God’s sake?

TONY

January 6

It always worries me when Ed is so happy he can’t sit still or stop grinning. He’s my business partner and I love him like a brother, but he’s such a schmuck. Ed’s a dapper Dan, young and good looking and always dressed like he has someplace to go instead of this little office that stinks of stale beer, stale coffee cups, and old cigar butts I forget to throw in the garbage. He polishes everything on him from his designer hairdo to his Italian shoes. Thinks he’s a regular bull stud for the ladies, but I ain’t seen signs of it myself.

Me, I wear a baseball cap that has seen better days. I should get a new one, but you know, you get a new hat and already the rest of you looks crummy. One day when I get rid of this beer belly, I’ll celebrate with a new cap. Yeah, sure. .

I was watching the news on the TV that hangs from the ceiling, like over a hospital bed, when Lovely knocked and walked in and Ed jumped to his feet. He ran around his desk and I think he was aimed at a big hug, but she ducked and the best he got was his nose in her ear. So, this is it, I said to myself, Stupido here fancies our new star.

Sweetheart, you were great last night, absolutely great! The whole room was crazy about you. We’re crazy about you. Right Tony?

I had to agree, she was good. Right. Good job Lovely.

Thanks, you got my pay?

No, no, wait Doll. Romeo tried for the hug again, taking her upper arms into his hands. This calls for a celebration. Maybe you don’t know it, but everybody’s talking about you. Soon everybody in every lounge in the business will know who you are. So it’s only right your boss should take you out for some dinner and a drink or two.

Lovely didn’t answer, she frowned, shrugged him off, and shook her head, no.

Yes, Lovely. Do you good to relax a couple hours. You work too hard Sweetheart. Tony will hold the fort here, right Tony?

I aimed a disgusted look at him and nodded my head.

I ate before I came to work, she said. I appreciate it though. Some other time maybe. Give me a rain check. I’d like to put my money in my locker and get changed, if it’s all the same to you.

Ed didn’t know enough to shut up. It’s not all the same to me. Not by a long shot, damn it. What kind of answer is that? Mind your manners, young lady. Your boss invited you to dinner.

After that speech, I guess he figured it was all decided because he walked over to the file cabinet where his jacket hung from the drawer pull on a hanger, and put it on. Come on now, Lovely, if you want we’ll start with a drink. Forget dinner for a while. Maybe later you’ll feel better about it and we’ll eat. We’ll go any place you want, Babe, you pick it.

No, really Ed. No offense, if I could just have my pay envelope please. Maybe some other night.

Don’t make me mad, Baby.

OK, I’ll sit on my ass and shut up for just so long. I pushed my hat up, got to my feet and said, Leave her alone, Ed. Hoo boy, that did it.

Wha—at! You shut up. Me and my main dancer here are going out for a drink, so bug off. Let’s go Lovely. Ed started for the door.

No, honestly, I can’t.

You mean ‘sure Ed,’ don’t you Baby? He stopped walking, brushed back his jacket and stood there with his hands on his hips, glaring at her with a warning on his face you could read real easy.

My turn again. I took the cigar out