Tormented Tango

Tormented Tango by LS Lane

Former prosecutor Aidan Wolf now runs a small legal aid office. Desperate to find his son—missing for five years—he spends his free time searching for his ex-wife and the boy, who’ve vanished in South America.

Defense lawyer Jenna Jacobs rarely loses a case, but she lost Aidan Wolf. Despite all her efforts, she has been unable to undo a thoughtless act that ended their budding romance.

District Attorney Wilson Howell, wife Becca, and their two teenagers live in what he considers near-perfect bliss. But when Howell’s children disappear after all three attorneys receive a series of threatening e-mails, Becca accuses him of putting her precious children in harm’s way. Overnight, his idyllic marriage disintegrates into a battlefield of blame.


Gregory Nisnevich and Teresa Anne Volgenau
Gregory Nisnevich and Teresa Anne Volgenau

The two-four beat of the tango reverberated through the dimly lit room. A lone man at the near end of the bar turned to watch the dancers wander off the floor. One couple remained.

Her deep red lipstick and dark hair complemented her Latin look. The fitted red dress slit up one thigh completed the image of a woman in her element. Her casually clad partner swayed slightly as she glided toward him.

The black rose dropped from her hand as she slid her leg around his. She reached up and caressed his neck. His arm eased around her waist, and his fingers splayed across her upper back. He led her through the provocative twists and turns of the Argentinian dance like a gigolo well versed in its innuendos. They moved in perfect unison from one end of the floor to the other. 

When the music wound down, she threw her head back and again assumed the opening pose. The audience broke into wild applause. Stepping away from her partner, she bowed. The man wobbled and crumpled to the floor. Bystanders rushed to his side while the frowning woman watched. As soon as they helped him to his feet, she shooed them away, wrapped her arm around his midsection, and guided him toward the exit.

A rock song blasted from the speaker system, and the dancers returned to the floor. The lone man picked up the discarded rose and laid it on the bar. He shook his head. Sexy chick. Lousy drunk. Turning back to his lemon-lime soda, he drained the glass, tossed a tip down beside the rose, and walked out.