by Rayna Morgan
His grin spread, producing dimples in his cheeks. "You do have your own unique take on things."
"What's your take on it?" she asked him.
"I tend to think we only get one shot at it all, but I don't spend much time thinking about it one way or another. I figure I'll find out how it all works soon enough. Right now, I'm happy spending part of this time around with you."
She smiled, raising her glass in the air. "To us, enjoying this time around. Now, it's your turn. What are you afraid of?"
"Afraid of not taking care of my little girl, of not protecting her. I know I can't shield her from life, and that's okay. I want her to experience living to the fullest. I just want to be able to keep her out of harm's way along her journey, and to help her find a sense of peace."
Maddy nodded, thoughtfully. "It's getting harder to do with all that's going on. Everyone's lives are so full of desires and fears; it's hard for people to find any peace. You seem content with your life. What's your secret?"
"When the world ripped away the source of my happiness, I had to go to a place outside the world for solace. I find my peace inside now, and it doesn't have anything to do with possessions and appearances."
"And do you have peace now?" she asked, looking deep enough into his eyes to get lost.
"Sometimes, not all the time."
"Are you happy?"
"More times than not."
"What makes you happy?"
"Getting up in the morning knowing what I have to do that day," he responded. His voice was soft and measured. "Thinking I'm doing what I was put here to do."
"What do you wish for?"
"To be as good as I was created to be,” he replied.
"Do you ever achieve that?"
"Sometimes."
"What does it feel like?"
"Like it's worth all the mistakes I might make trying to do it again."
• • •
When the last of the sparks died out, Maddy stood up, returning Scott's jacket. "The Ranch is beautiful, a place for ever-aftering, but I should go home. I'm working the early shift tomorrow."
"Does that mean you have to get up by nine to be at the store by ten?"
"Don't make fun of me, Cowboy," she scolded, propping her hands on her hips. "Us city chicks may not get up at the crack of dawn, but we more than make up for it once we get our engines purring."
"Sunrise is a beautiful time of day."
"Maybe you can prove that to me sometime when I don't have to get up and go home."
One corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin. His eyes went through her making her feel light-headed. "It would be my pleasure, ma'am."
Walking out to his truck, she laid her hand gently on his shoulder. "I had a great time today."
"Me, too. The kind of time I haven't had for too long."
They were quiet during the ride along the ocean to Maddy's house, enjoying the beauty of moonlight glimmering on the water; two people comfortable enough with each other to have no need for conversation.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lea had time to swing by the Theatre before she met Paul and Tom for burgers and a brew at the Landing. She didn't want to interfere with Tom's investigation, but she knew the only way to help Angelo was to find someone with a bigger reason to kill Barrett. The most likely place to find that person was the Theatre.
She expected to find it dark and deserted but was hopeful of finding a lingering staff member or two who might give her answers to her questions.
Pushing open the door to the main staging area, she was surprised to find a beehive of activity. School-age children filled the stage, parents watched from the seating area, stage hands moved sets into place, and the beat of music playing on a boom box filled the auditorium.
She headed toward the office area when she saw the Director's Assistant headed downstairs in front of her.
"Hey, Dianne.”
"Hi, Lea, how are you?"
"Confused. I expected to find the Theatre dark today after what happened."
"Oh, no. Julia's keeping everything going on schedule. The Theatre's always booked months in advance. We have engagements through the end of the year."
"But surely the play won't continue."
"No, none of the cast wanted to do it without Barrett, and Julia was afraid there was too much negative publicity. The Young Players group jumped at the chance to use the facilities for those weekends."
"The young people who are on stage now?"
"Yeah. Mostly junior college and high school students, but they've got kids as young as elementary school. They've already done their annual production. This will give them a chance to do some improvisational theatre which is excellent training."
"You mean where there's no script and no rehearsal?"
"Exactly. They make up the plot, characters, and dialog as they go. Sometimes they use a suggestion from the audience to get started. I've seen improv done by young people that's much funnier and more creative than by seasoned actors. They come up with the craziest stuff."
"Will they be able to advertise in time to get tickets sold?"
"Julia's offering to exchange tickets for the play Barrett was in for the Young Players improv. Any ticket-holders who aren't interested will get a refund. Of course, relatives of the young actors are anxious to get tickets. It will be a sell-out in either event."
"How is Julia holding up, arranging all this in addition to the funeral?"
"Julia is Julia. I've never seen anything faze that woman; she's unflappable."
"How are you doing? You've worked for Barrett for some time, haven't you?"
"Four years. When I met him, I was working as an Assistant for a Director who signed on to do a production here. It ran for eight weeks. As soon as it was over, my boss left for England on a long-term contract. I would have loved to live abroad but I wasn't invited. London is full of people who could fill my role. Luckily, Barrett was impressed with my work and offered me a permanent position as in-house Director's Assistant."
"How has it worked out for you?"
"The crew is the best I've ever worked with. Most of the actors have been wonderful. And I've learned more about the business side from helping Julia on occasion."
"Have you ever tried your hand at acting?"
"I was never bitten by the acting bug, but I have a sister who wanted to be an actress since she was five years old. She's had minor parts in movies and supporting onstage roles but never made it big. She's beautiful," Dianne went on, showing Lea a picture on her phone. "She could have easily made it in modeling."
Lea concurred before posing more questions. "Did you enjoy working for Barrett?"
Dianne bristled. "That depended. He was fabulous on stage; acting at its best, honestly."
"And off stage?"
"He could be an arrogant bastard."
"Something of a flirt, like many actors?"
"More like a blatant womanizer in his case."
"Julia was strong enough to put up with it?"
"She's a strong woman alright but believe me, I'm sure she extracted her pound of flesh one way or another."
"The person I'm here to find out about is Angelo Russo, Barrett's business partner. Did he come to the Theatre often?"
"I've only seen Mr. Russo a couple of times but on both occasions, I liked him. He's quite charming but sweet; not egotistical like Mr. Mason."
"What were those occasions?"
"Once several weeks ago. He, Barrett, and Julia held a meeting behind closed doors; some business dealings, I'm sure."
"And the other occasion?"
"Opening night. He always has a bouquet of flowers delivered the night of every opening. This time, he brought them in person."
• • •
Instead of finding answers, all Lea was doing so far was creating more questions about her client. She walked down the hall with Dianne trying to figure out what approach she should take when she saw a solution on the bulletin board. A sign read
‘Volunteers Needed: Ticket Sales, Intermission Refreshments’.
"I'd like to help," she said, pointing to the sign. "Where do I sign up?"
"I'll take you over to ticket sales right now. I'm sure the volunteers will be happy for some extra help." A thought flashed through her mind. "If you're interested, you could help with the annual membership event coming up next month. It's a five-course dinner and entertainment. Julia goes all out to wine and dine the guests to promote full season subscriptions. The number of subscribers dictates how many productions can be done throughout the year."
"If Julia doesn't have all the promotional material for the event,” Lea suggested, “I'd be happy to create what she needs as my donation."
"Wow, I know she'd be thrilled. She hasn't done the invitations or programs yet because we're still waiting for responses from the entertainers. A lot of it is last minute work. With all that's been happening, Julia probably hasn't given it much thought. I'm sure you could be a great help."
"Should I talk to her about it now?"
"She's not here. I'll leave her a note telling her what you're willing to do. If you give me your cell number, I'm sure she'll call you."
Lea was buoyant returning upstairs. She now had a valid reason to be present at the Theatre without raising undue suspicion or alarm. Deep in thought, she almost collided with two youngsters jumping off the stage.
"Heads up, ma'am, if you don't want to be run over by these kids. If you're on your way out, I'll help you through this maze."
From the swollen eye and bruised cheek, Lea deduced that she was looking at the man involved in her sister's traumatic encounter. "You must be Eddie King."
He looked surprised. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"I'm Maddy's sister," she said reaching out her hand. "She told me about the incident at the Finish Line."
"Then you must be the one," he stood back, giving her a once-over. "Everybody's talking about the brave bitch at the Marina."
"I'm not that brave," Lea insisted.
"Beg your pardon, ma'am; it's not you they're talking about; it's the border collie."
Lea laughed. "She is experiencing a certain notoriety around town."
"I was headed to the Tap Room for a brew. Could I buy you a drink? It's the least I can do since you've probably saved me from being called to testify in court. The threat on your life should be enough to keep Hector's ugly mug off the streets."
"I'd like that. It's a beautiful day to enjoy the Harbor. I'm meeting my husband there in an hour; the timing is perfect. I'll follow you in my car." She was careful not to mention the other person she was meeting.
• • •
They grabbed a table on the covered patio, an easier place to talk than the room displaying sporting events on big screen TVs. Lea ordered the happy hour wine; Eddie selected one of the beers posted on the wall board.
After the waitress had delivered their drinks, Eddie leaned forward resting his elbows on the table. "Rumor has it your snatch had something to do with your sister seeing my assault in the alley."
"Yes, I'm afraid it did. The first time I saw him, he delivered a warning of what might happen to her if she testified."
"Then what were you doing searching for him at the Marina?" His face portrayed his opinion of her recklessness causing her to blush.
"In retrospect, I admit trying to find him was a woefully ignorant thing for me to do."
"You knew his attack on me was brutal enough to put me in a coma?"
"I never imagined I would be confronting him face to face. I only intended to determine his location so the police could apprehend him."
"Why didn't you ask for their help instead of going after him yourself?"
"He threatened my sister's life if I told anyone."
"Did you have a reason to look for him at the Marina?"
Lea blushed. Each time she told her story, it sounded more unfeasible and ridiculous. What, indeed, had she been thinking? She had begun to question her typically good judgment.
"The smell of fish on him the night he threatened me was the only clue I had."
Eddie leaned back assessing her like someone in the market for a used car. "Pretty intuitive. I give you kudos for that. You got more brains than street smarts."
His acknowledgment made her feel better. She found herself liking this mild-mannered man. "Glad to hear you give me credit for being more than a bonehead."
"No one's denying you produced results. The police would have got their hands on him eventually once they traced his fingerprints and put out an APB, but they were never going to get a confession from the bozo. He knows too well what happens to anyone who rolls over on his boss."
"Both my sister and I will be going to court. She was able to identify him from his mug shot. Now he's facing two charges; my assault as well as yours."
"There was something I didn't understand about his attack on me. Maybe you could shed some light." His eyes glued on hers giving her no chance to evade the question. "What was your sister doing in that alley to begin with?"
She took a deep breath. He wouldn't like the answer if she gave him the whole story. She opted for a partial truth. "She met a friend there. They wanted a private place where they could talk. In fact, he's the one who summoned the medics when they found you unconscious."
"Are they the ones who called the Detective?"
"No, he showed up after the ambulance, but she knows him. He's a friend of ours."
"Hmmm." Eddie sat back, stroking his hand across his chin. "You know, that copper had the balls …" He cupped his hand across his mouth. "Excuse my French … had the nerve to accuse me of having something to do with Barrett Mason's murder."
"I'm familiar with the case," she responded vaguely.
The sudden rush of color to his face startled her. "I mean I'm lying in the hospital after almost getting my ticket punched, and he's trying to make me the fall guy."
"I'm sure he was only following procedure. They interviewed everyone associated with the Theatre."
"I got bent out of shape lying there listening to his accusations but there wasn't much I could do about it. He used those innuendos to put pressure on me to turn over the bookie's name. It raised my blood pressure. The nurse told him to leave."
"I've had experience with how irritating the police can be," she sympathized. "Did he provide any reasons for suspecting you?"
"He thinks I was trying to cancel out a debt, but I made arrangements to pay it off months ago. I had no motive."
As much as her husband downplayed the validity of woman's intuition, it was in full play at the moment. Eddie might be trying to profess his innocence thinking she was a pipeline back to Tom but she believed him.
"You proved yourself tracking down my assailant. Would you consider tracking down Barrett's murderer to get me off the hot seat?"
"I'm already looking into the murder for someone else, but my sister might be willing to help. You need to understand neither of us is licensed."
"I'm not looking for someone with a license; I'm looking for someone with brains. How much would your sister charge me?"
"She'll do it gratis to prevent any conflict of interest."
Eddie thanked her and left. Lea texted a message for her sister. "Hope you're having a good time with the cowboy. I've got a client in the Barrett Mason murder. So do you. Not a word to Paul or Tom. By the way, you're working for free. Talk to you tomorrow."
• • •
Lea needed to find out more about the incident at the Pre-Opening Dinner. She tapped Margaret Patton's number into her phone. After sharing mutual shock over Barrett's death, Lea got to the point. "What do you know about the candles on his table?"
"I put them there myself."
"Really?" That was not the answer Lea had anticipated.
"I was following the instructions I received."
"What instructions?"
"When I opened the kitchen to start food preparation, I found a typed note on the counter
, together with three candles."
"What did the note say?"
"Hold on a minute. I'll give you the exact wording. I'm sure the envelope is still in my purse."
She returned in a moment and read the message: 'Please help us with the good luck ceremony. Put these three candles on a tray. When the mushrooms are being presented, deliver the candles to Barrett Mason's table. Make certain the shortest candle is closest to Barrett. Light the candles and walk away.'
"No signature?"
"None. When the time came, the waiters were busy serving. I took the candles to Barrett's table, placed them as specified, lit them, and returned to the kitchen. Does that have something to do with what happened at the Theatre?"
"I have no idea but if nothing else, someone wanted to scare him."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
There was no mistaking Tom's frame of mind when he entered the holding cell. He threw a clipboard on the table and sat across from the burly unshaven man divested of his dripping clothes and wearing prison garb. The thug revealed his ranking on the dumbness scale by flipping sarcastic, "Come to spring me from this flea-bitten excuse for a motel, copper?"
The Detective gagged on the strong smell. He yelled at the jail-keeper, "Didn't you hose this guy down? It smells like a fish market in here."
"We figured his swim in the drink cleaned him off," was the reply.
"You figured wrong. He took that involuntary dive into the Marina right next to the landing dock where fishermen throw out their bait at the end of the day. Unless you want to turn into fish bait yourself, I'd suggest you make sure he gets a bath when I'm through with him."
Never a man to be trifled with, the Detective's mood had gone from bad to worse. In his ignorance, the thug missed the warning signals. "It's about time you sprung me. I got work to do on my boat."
"By the time you get out of here, they will have auctioned off your boat as deserted property, or chopped it up for firewood."
The prisoner's eyes blazed as he tried to stand. Tom pushed him back hard enough the chair almost toppled. "Sit down, Hector. You aren't going anywhere."
"So you know who I am."