Hidden Riches

puff, then handed it back. “I’ll show you around. The building’s mid-nineteenth-century. It used to be a popular music hall.” She headed away from the stage, down one of the narrow corridors. “It started getting run-down after vaudeville died, barely escaped the wrecking ball a couple of times. After—” She pushed open the door to a dressing room. Putting her hands on her hips, she watched Will untangle himself from a torrid embrace. “Desertion,” she said, “is a hanging offense.”
    Will grinned and slipped his arm around a curvy woman in a tiny red dress. “Lorraine was helping me run lines. I’m up for a mouthwash commercial.”
    “You were on duty, Will. I’ve had my shift and Lea doesn’t come on until after midnight.”
    “Okay, okay.” With his date in tow, Will squeezed through the door. “Catch you later.”
    Jed didn’t bother to disguise his admiration of Lorraine’s hips, which were swinging like a pendulum.
    “Pop your eyes back in your head, Skimmerhorn,” Dora advised. “Someone might step on them.”
    “In a minute.” He turned back to Dora when Lorraine had swiveled out of view. “His shift for what?” Jed asked.
    “For keeping Mom out of the caterer’s hair. Come on, I’ll take you up to the fly floor. There’s a wicked view of the stage from there.”
     
    As the evening wore on, Jed stopped questioning the fact that he was enjoying himself. Although he didn’t like crowds, had no use for parties and making conversation with strangers, he didn’t feel any impatient urges to leave early. When he ran into the Chapmans in the first balcony, he concluded that they were also enjoying themselves.
    “Hey, Jed. Happy new year.” Mary Pat kissed him, then leaned on the rail again to watch the action below. “What a party. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
    Jed checked out her view. A swarm of people, streams of color, blasts of noise. “The Conroys are—unique.”
    “You’re telling me. I met Lea’s father. We jitterbugged.” Her face flushed with laughter. “I didn’t know I could jitterbug.”
    “She didn’t have to do much more than hang on,” Brent commented. “That old guy can move.”
    “He’s probably got enough fuel in him.” Jed caught a glimpse of Quentin below, with a party hat jauntily tilted on his head.
    “Where’s Dora?” Brent asked. “I haven’t seen her since we got here.”
    “She moves around. Indigo wanted to dance with her.”
    “Indigo?” Mary Pat leaned farther over the balcony to wave back at strangers and toss confetti.
    “Can’t miss him. He’s a giant, bald black guy in red leather.”
    “Oh. Oh, ” she repeated after her quick scan located him. “God, I wish I could dance like that.” She propped her elbows on the rail and moved her hips gently to the beat.
    “Anything turn up yet?” Jed asked Brent.
    “It’s early.” Brent nursed a beer. “We’re sending the picture around. If he’s got a sheet, we’ll have something after the holiday. I did some legwork myself, looking for a matchup on known sex offenders or B and E men. Nothing yet.” Brent looked down in his empty glass, adjusted his horn-rims. “Let’s go get a beer.”
    “Oh, no you don’t.” Mary Pat popped up from the rail and grabbed Brent’s arm. “You’re going to dance with me, Lieutenant. It’s almost midnight.”
    “Couldn’t we stay up here and neck?” Brent dragged his feet as his wife pulled him along. “Listen, Jed’ll dance with you.”
    “I’m getting my own woman.”
    By the time the three had managed to elbow and squeeze their way down to the orchestra level, the lead singer was shouting into the mike, holding up his hands for silence.
    “Come on, everybody, listen up! We got one minute until zero hour, so find your significant other—or a handy pair of lips—and get ready to pucker up for the new year.”
    Jed ignored the din and a couple of interesting proposals from solo women and cut through the crowd.
    He saw her, stage right, laughing with her brother as they poured champagne into dozens of outstretched glasses.
    She set down an empty and picked up another, turning to see that the band had full glasses to toast. And she saw him.
    “Will.” With her eyes on Jed’s, she pushed the bottle at her brother. “You’re on your own.”
    “There’ll be a stampede!” he shouted, but she was already walking to the edge of the stage.
    “Get ready, people!” The singer’s voice boomed out over