All I Ask

by KT Webb

  He could put on an act around Aria and pretend to accept that she’d found someone else, but that didn’t mean he had to stop trying to get her back. The relationship she had developed with her mysterious boyfriend was exciting and dangerous; that was the only reason she was drawn to someone like that. The deeper she traveled down that path, the harder it would be for her to see the truth. Drew would do whatever it took to get her away from the man who was threatening to keep him from giving her the life that only Drew could provide.

  Aria returned to her apartment to find everyone fast asleep. Rather than trying to get comfortable in the living room, she went back to her bedroom and buried her face in the pillow D’Angelo had used. His scent still clung to the sheets. She looked at the ring on her finger. It wasn’t an engagement ring; it was much more.

  The ring had once rested on her mother’s finger, then against her father’s chest. D’Angelo not only rescued her from the fire but also managed to save an irreplaceable heirloom she’d thought was lost forever. Aria knew she’d never heard her father talk about a man named D’Angelo. Whoever he was, she was certain D’Angelo wasn’t his real name. For whatever reason, he didn’t want to tell her who he was.

  She knew her friends would question her for wearing the ring, so she slid it off her finger and onto a chain she had in her jewelry box. If she wore it around her neck, they’d be less likely to ask her where it came from. Aria laid down again, thinking about the things D’Angelo told her. Someone had killed Karen, and he seemed to think she could be targeted too.

  Aria curled up in bed, thinking about what the coming weeks could bring. The investigation into Karen’s murder could implicate whoever D’Angelo was afraid of; if it did, he would be able to put it all behind him. In the living room, she heard someone stir and begin to move around. Soft footsteps approached her bedroom door. Aria looked toward the opening to see Christine standing in the doorframe.

  “Hey, I saw you were gone,” she whispered.

  Aria slid over in her queen-sized bed and gestured for Christine to join her. Despite their age, it was almost as though they were teen girls at summer camp as Christine climbed under the blankets and laid on her side to face her friend.

  “Are you okay?” Aria was concerned.

  “I don’t know. I think I’ll be okay. I woke up, and all I could see were Karen’s eyes,” Christine shuddered, “All I can think about is who might have done something so terrible.”

  Aria was quiet as she thought about the last time she saw Karen Moreau. Any tiny detail could help the police with their investigation. The problem was, Aria didn’t care enough about what Karen was doing to pay any attention to her. She knew the actress made a snide remark to Drew about Aria, and the two had a heated exchange. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Nothing brought to mind any cause for concern.

  “The police will find out what happened. In the meantime, we need to stick together. You’re welcome to stay with me as long as you need, really.”

  Christine snuggled into the blankets, “Your bed is more comfortable than mine anyway.”

  They giggled for a few minutes, trying not to wake the two men in the living room. It wasn’t easy. Aria and Christine had only known one another for a few months, but their friendship had developed quickly. When good friends start laughing about something, it’s easy for them to find a hundred other things to laugh about for no reason. They finally gained their composure and began to drift.

  “Aria?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  They were asleep within seconds.

  A lot had happened in the two weeks that Christine had been staying with Aria. The memorial service for Karen had been noteworthy, to say the least. Thousands were in attendance though only a handful seemed truly shaken up about losing her. The difference between being impacted by death and actually feeling the grief of losing someone you love is never more evident than when a celebrity passes away. Christine had most certainly been affected by her death, but she wasn’t grieving her loss.

  There were times when she wondered if she would ever forget the sight of that dead body. It haunted her dreams and left her breathless when it tore her from her sleep. Christine was beyond thankful that Aria insisted she stay with her; every time she woke from one of the horrific nightmares, her friend was there to calm her down. Nothing was more terrifying than waking from a dream that seemed real only to discover the things in those dreams are in the world outside the mind. Aria seemed to understand that more than anyone Christine had ever met.

  Aria had experienced her own share of trauma. Christine knew it bothered her sometimes that she couldn’t remember the details of what happened to her father and the family friends who were killed that fateful night. All Christine could think was how much she wished she could forget the vision that changed her life. At first, she tried to dismiss her feelings as dramatic; but Christine couldn’t help how it affected her. No matter what she did or where she went, she could see the lifeless corpse and smell the putrid odor.

  Performances had resumed during what would have been the second week of the run. The atmosphere was different for everyone. The carefree excitement that often accompanied Broadway productions had evaporated. Christine could feel it in the way the crew kept a watchful eye on their set, she could see it in the way the actors glanced over their shoulders. Everyone was on edge.

  Christine noticed a marked difference in Aria’s behavior. She was distant and jumpy. Christine assumed it was the tragedy and subsequent transition back into performing that had affected her friend. But there was something else looming over her, something she couldn’t explain. To make matters worse, Drew had become extra attentive to Aria. It made Christine uncomfortable to catch him watching her friend. Patrick reassured her that Drew was probably just trying to keep an eye on her; he was an old romantic who seemed to fancy Drew as a discarded lover pining for the one who got away. Christine didn’t feel that way at all. Drew looked at Aria like a shiny prize that he had to work hard to win. The glint in his eyes told the story of a man who would stop at nothing to take the trophy, even if he didn’t win.

  As they prepared for their second full week of performances, Detective Pahl came into the theater to speak with Patrick. He had some more information about Karen’s death that he thought they may be able to help with. In addition to the crushed larynx and fractured hyoid bone, they’d found evidence that indicated the killer wore black leather gloves. Fingernail scrapings didn’t reveal any foreign skin cells, but the material underneath them gave them another complicated clue. The person who strangled Karen Moreau wore expensive black leather gloves.

  “Do you happen to know if any of your cast or crew are known to wear gloves that may match that description? None were found when we searched the building, so that rules out a pair that may have been used for the production unless some have gone missing?” Detective Pahl looked between Patrick and Christine.

  “Everything is accounted for. I double-checked after you completed your investigation, just in case we had to replace any props that were taken for evidence,” Christine explained.

  “And I can’t think of anyone who would wear leather gloves, though that could be any number of people during the winter months,” Patrick shared.

  “I figured it was a long shot, but had to ask,” Detective Pahl told them, “We’ll let you know if we find anything else.”

  Patrick looked at Christine after the Detective left. There were so many variables at play that they couldn't determine if anyone in their cast or crew was the murderer.

  “Should we ask everyone about the gloves?” Christine asked.

  Patrick shook his head at her, “Not yet. We have a show to do. A packed house deserves actors who aren’t preoccupied with yet another dead-end clue about Karen. They’re already nervous enough.”

  “You’re probably right. I just hope the police figure this out soon, I don’t like the idea that we coul
d be working with a murderer every day.”

  When the performance was over, and everyone had removed their costumes, Christine had to do her inventory. Patrick stayed in the theater to wait for her and Aria to be done so he could make sure they got home okay. He and Drew took turns escorting them safely between the Majestic Theatre and Durant Theater.

  Aria was in her dressing room. It had been a rough couple of weeks; she’d gotten text messages from D’Angelo but only a few calls. She’d not seen him since the night he gave her the ring. There was nothing worse than not knowing where he was. If there was a killer on the loose, he could be a target. He kept telling Aria he had to keep her safe from whoever this mysterious murderer was; what if he was on the list for his association with her? She was thankful Christine had been staying with her at the theater. Aria had grown accustomed to the idea that D’Angelo was somewhere nearby; having him absent left the theater feeling empty and foreboding.

  Something had been nagging at her conscience after Patrick talked to everyone about the leather gloves worn by the murderer. The only person she could recall wearing leather gloves was the one person she knew couldn’t be the killer. D’Angelo had worn gloves for the majority of their time together. The last few times she saw him, he hadn’t been wearing his gloves. In the back of her mind, she felt the thought beginning to form; he was often secretive. Aria wondered if it was at all possible that D’Angelo could be a murderer in disguise. She shuddered at the thought. Memories of his gentle touches and whispered words filled her with a certainty she couldn’t deny. D’Angelo wasn’t a murderer. He couldn’t be.

  Aria had to believe that it was just a coincidence. The difference had to be his growing level of comfort with Aria or his desire to actually feel her skin when he touched her. He was moody and mysterious, but she couldn’t believe he was a murderer. The thought that he could have anything to do with Karen’s death made her nauseous.

  She finished getting changed just as a knock at her door made her jump. Everything seemed to startle her now. Aria took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s just me. I’m finishing up with the costumes. I just wanted to let you know I’m almost done,” Christine called through the door.

  “Okay, wait, I’m changed, and I haven’t brought my costume back. Hold on,” Aria held the dress up and carefully put it back on its hanger.

  The door opened, and Aria stuck her arm out to hand over her costume from the final act, “Thanks, I’ll get this one put away, then I should be pretty much done.”

  Christine made her way back down the hallway toward the stage. She’d left her clipboard sitting on the prop table, but when she returned to it, she found a letter addressed to her. She looked around to verify that she was indeed alone. There was no one to be seen. Christine opened the letter with shaking hands. She already knew who it was from.

  Dear Christine,

  I know you have become close friends with Miss Durant over the past few months. I’m relieved to know she has someone like you with her while I am away.

  I write to you to ask your assistance with an urgent matter, Aria is in danger. The more I dig into the past, the more confident I become that she is the obsession of a dangerous man. Do not let her be alone with Andrew Overland under any circumstances.

  Your friend,

  D’Angelo

  Christine felt an uneasiness creep into her soul. She hadn’t been secretive about her distaste for Drew, but she’d believed it was just her personal bias getting in the way of her friends' potential happiness. Now to have D’Angelo come out of nowhere and insist that Aria could be in danger because of Andrew made her wonder if her intuition had been right. Christine thought about D’Angelo asking that Patrick not cast Aria opposite Drew; how long had the composer suspected there was something sinister awaiting Aria Durant?

  Christine put the note in her pocket. She decided to ask Aria if she knew D’Angelo. The tone of the letter seemed like a desperate attempt to keep Aria from being around another man. If he was genuinely concerned for her safety, why wouldn’t he show himself to expose whatever secrets he thought Drew was hiding? In her mind, neither man seemed all that trustworthy. She would do as D’Angelo asked and keep Aria safe, even if it meant keeping her from the composer himself.

  D’Angelo and Madame Rossi met in her apartment after he called her with an urgent request. Lena hadn’t seen him face to face in many years, and she was anxious to see what the years of isolation had done to him. He told her he’d found something in old police reports that may help them prove that Andrew Overland had something to do with the death of Alfonse Durant and the Overland family. They’d long suspected foul play, but nothing ever came of it in the police investigation. No evidence was found that gave them the definitive ability to label the case as arson.

  “What have you found?” She asked as he sat in partial shadow.

  “I got my hands on the original investigative report conducted by the fire marshal. He was convinced they had an arson case, but the police didn’t buy it. Because the kitchen had been remodeled, they accepted the theory that something hadn’t been hooked up correctly or there was a faulty appliance,” he explained.

  “Yes, I already know these things. What else did you find?”

  “I called that fire marshal and spoke with him. He said it was his expert opinion that the fire originated in the sitting room, not the kitchen. That entire side of the house was essentially demolished during the explosion and subsequent water damage from putting out the flames.”

  Lena knew there had been some discrepancies in the police findings and the report from the fire marshal, but she didn’t realize just how different the theories were.

  “Without an incendiary device, the police refused to label it as arson. Did the fire marshal say what he thought could have caused the blast?” She asked.

  “No. He said it was impossible to know. I’ve been thinking, though, if a bomb were brought into the house, it would have had to have been brought in by the Overland’s or placed somewhere before their arrival,” D’Angelo paused, “They gave him a metronome that night.”

  “Why didn’t you mention that before?”

  “It didn’t seem to be important. It was a gift. They wanted to show their appreciation.”

  Lena thought for a few moments, “I’m going to need to do some digging into the evidence. If there is any mention of that metronome, we may be able to prove they were murdered once and for all.”

  D’Angelo knew it was a longshot. Most of the information he’d uncovered was circumstantial. It was a word he’d grown to despise. The events in London were never pursued because everything was circumstantial. Andrew Overland happened to be in the middle of a performance on Broadway when the rest of his family went up in flames, his absence was considered circumstantial. Karen Moreau was murdered, and the only person who seemed to benefit from her death was Aria Durant; the girl Andrew had kept track of obsessively while living in London. Circumstantial.

  “We need to be prepared for the possibility that Andrew isn’t actually responsible for any of these things. Just because someone is capable of murder doesn’t mean they are a murderer,” Lena reminded him gently.

  “Trust me when I say that he is capable of anything.”

  His plea to Christine had been risky, but he knew that if anyone were going to care enough to help him, it would be her. D’Angelo knew that keeping Aria away from Drew was the best way to ensure her safety, but it wasn’t a foolproof plan. The pieces were being moved around the chessboard, and if things didn’t go the way Andrew Overland wanted, there was a powerful possibility that he would end the game.

  Detective Pahl stared at the evidence board. Just once, he wished a murder investigation could be open and shut. The suspect list was practically non-existent. He’d been waiting for something to happen, anything. Every time he thought he had a lead, it turned cold almost immediately. He had the nagging feeling that someone was to
ying with him.

  As if he needed another reason to suspect Andrew Overland, he got an anonymous phone call encouraging that suspicion. The man on the other end of the line wasn’t necessarily considered a reputable source; he wouldn’t identify himself. Detective Pahl had worked with enough tipsters to know they could have information that would make or break a case. This particular caller claimed to have known Andrew Overland when he was younger and insisted that the man had a history of violence and obsessive behavior.

  Detective Pahl was skeptical. Although, he had to remind himself that establishing a pattern of behavior would help his case. The anonymous source suggested that he get in contact with Madame Lena Rossi. He said she had been close to the Overland and Durant families and would be able to give him more information. If it weren’t for the fact that he had no other leads and was trying to catch Overland in his arrogance, he might have completely dismissed the suggestion. He arranged to meet with Lena Rossi at the Webber Academy. Whatever information she may have to share might help piece together the puzzle he needed to solve.