by Gibson, Jo
“Who else uses arrows?” Nita looked puzzled. “Indians, and sportsmen, and . . . I can’t think of anyone else.”
Judy frowned slightly as she answered. “Cupid uses arrows.”
“Cupid?” Andy raised his eyebrows. “I bet they didn’t think of that. Do you mind if I tell my uncle?”
Judy shrugged. “Go ahead. I just thought of it because Michael sang that song about Cupid last month.”
“How about Robin Hood?” Linda frowned slightly. “Did they steal anything from Deana?”
“Her wallet’s missing. You might be onto something, Linda. But Robin Hood stole from the rich and gave it to the poor. And Deana wasn’t rich.”
“But they might have thought she was.” Ingrid sighed enviously. “She sure spent a lot of money on clothes.”
Mr. Calloway glanced at his watch. “Okay, guys. Let’s break this up. It’s almost midnight. Who’s going to follow Ingrid home?”
“I will.” Michael spoke up. “I’ll do a caravan with Mary Beth, Ingrid, and Becky.”
Mr. Calloway looked puzzled. “But they’re in the other direction. Wouldn’t it be better if you followed Judy home? She lives right next door to you.”
“I have to go to Becky’s house anyway.” Michael explained. “We’re going to take a couple of minutes, and go over her new material.”
“Tonight?” Carla looked surprised.
“We have to do it tonight,” Becky said to all of them. “I’ve got an audition at Laughs Galore tomorrow night.”
“Congratulations!” Mr. Calloway looked pleased. “It’s a good club, Becky. I’ve met the owner and he treats his people right. But we’re going to miss you if you get the job.”
Becky laughed. “No, you won’t. If I get the spot, he only wants me for Sunday nights. And that means I can still work at Covers . . . if you want me.”
“Of course I want you. You’re the best comedian we’ve ever had, and the audience loves you.”
“Let’s just hope they love me at Laughs Galore.” Becky looked a little nervous.
“They’ll adore you, just like we do—I already told you that.” Michael slipped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a little squeeze. Then he turned to the group. “She’s on at ten-thirty tomorrow night.”
Carla spoke up. “Do you want us to come and laugh at all your jokes?”
“That’s really nice of you, but . . . well . . . it’s really not necessary.” Becky looked slightly embarrassed. “Michael’s coming, and he’s really all the audience I need.”
Mr. Calloway shook his head. “Nonsense! The more laughs you get, the better your chances are. I’ll be there.”
“Me, too.” Vera nodded.
“I’ll bring Nita, and we’ll invite our older sister and her husband.” Berto spoke up. “That’ll be four more.”
Ingrid nodded. “I’ll come. How about you, Mary Beth?”
“Sure, if I can ride with you. Are you in, Judy?”
“Of course,” Judy nodded.
One by one, everyone promised to come to Becky’s audition. It was the first time one of their group had auditioned for an outside job, and they were all prepared to give Becky lots of support.
“Okay.” Mr. Calloway stood up. “Does everybody have rides arranged?”
Carla nodded. “We’re all set, Mr. Calloway. Judy? Will you help me lock up the office?”
“Sure.” Judy was slightly puzzled. Carla had never asked for help before. But when they got to the office, Carla turned to her with a frown on her face.
“They’re going on with the contest, aren’t they?”
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Judy looked at Carla in surprise. “What makes you say that?”
“Becky. Deana’s only been dead for twenty-four hours, and she’s already moving in on Michael.”
“I noticed that. But maybe Becky’s just nervous about her audition. Michael’s always helped her with her new material.”
“At midnight?” Carla raised her eyebrows. “Well . . . we’ll see. She hasn’t said anything to you about giving her points, has she?”
“Not a word.”
“If she does, I think you should warn her to be very careful. I’ve been thinking about what you said about Cupid, and it makes some kind of crazy sense. It’s possible Deana was killed because she was going out with Michael.”
“You think one of the group killed her because they were jealous that she was winning?”
Carla shrugged. “I don’t think anything. I just pointed out that it’s a possible connection if your Cupid theory is right. I’d warn her myself, but . . . well, you know how the other girls feel about me.”
Judy nodded. It was true. The other girls really didn’t like Carla, and they’d laugh in her face if she tried to warn them.
“Will you just think about it, Judy? The girls all like you, and they’d listen.”
“I’ll think about it,” Judy promised. She smiled at Carla. “It’s really nice of you to be so concerned, especially when the other girls have been so nasty to you.”
Carla shrugged, and then she grinned. “Well, I have an ulterior motive. If any more girls get killed off, Mr. Calloway might decide to close Covers down. And I really like this job.”
Four
When Judy pulled into the Laughs Galore parking lot, she was surprised to see Becky’s yellow Toyota parked by the rear door. Michael’s old white Lincoln was parked next to it, so they hadn’t driven here together. Perhaps Carla was wrong, and Becky wasn’t planning on trying to snare Michael, after all.
Judy found a space between Mr. Calloway’s big black Cadillac and Andy’s full-sized red Blazer, and squeezed her gray Volvo in. It had been a sixteenth-birthday present from her adoptive parents, the safest car that money could buy. Of course, Judy would have preferred some wheels that didn’t make her feel like a well-to-do, middle-aged matron. The expensive Volvo set her apart from the rest of the high school crowd, but Judy solved the problem by telling everyone that she was using her mother’s car.
Getting out of the Volvo was a slight problem since the spaces were all designed for compact cars, and she was flanked by two huge American vehicles. It took some maneuvering, but she managed to wiggle out without getting any grime on her best jeans and sweater.
The back door was locked, and Judy walked around to the front entrance on Ventura Boulevard. The bright blue Laughs Galore building had been a small theatrical playhouse for most of its existence, and it had been converted to a comedy club several years ago. Mr. Calloway had once told her that location was everything, and Judy could see why Laughs Galore was so popular. This wasn’t the ritziest area of Ventura Boulevard, but it was only a short drive to the famous restaurants and shops. Judy doubted that the rent was very expensive—after all, Laughs Galore was right next door to a cut-rate muffler shop. But the building had easy access to several freeways, and it was in the right location to attract a lot of business.
“Judy! Wait up!”
Judy turned and waved as she saw Linda and Mary Beth racing across the street. Mary Beth had driven her lime green Volkswagen Bug, and she’d found a parking spot in front of a dry cleaners with the slogan, We’re sixty years old but we don’t have wrinkles.
“This is very nice.” Linda gazed up at the marquee, and sighed. Laughs Galore was featuring the comedy of Hank Brothers, a comedian the girls had never heard of. “Do you think I’ll ever see my name up in lights?” she asked.
Mary Beth grinned at her. “Of course you will—especially if your parents buy a sign.”
“Very funny.” Linda glared at Mary Beth, but then she started to laugh. “I just hope Becky’s as funny as you are tonight.”
When they got inside the lobby, they found Mr. Calloway waiting for them. He’d arrived early and reserved three tables for the Covers crowd. As he led them through the crowded showroom, Judy gazed around her in awe. There had to be at least a hundred people here. At five dollars a head, Laughs Galore was pulling in s
ome decent cash, especially since every table seemed to have a round of drinks, and waitresses were hurrying back and forth, filling orders.
Judy was pleased as she joined the middle table. Everyone who worked at Covers had shown up to watch Becky’s audition. Berto and Nita had brought their older sister and her husband, Vera was there with a handsome guy she said was her brother, and even Carla had shown up. Naturally, Carla was alone.
Mr. Calloway ordered a round of soft drinks, and Judy nursed hers slowly, like everyone else. Although she had plenty of spending money, she knew none of the others could afford to pay for more than one outrageously priced Coke.
Mr. Calloway table-hopped between acts, and when he came back to their table, he looked a little nervous. “Now remember, girls . . .”
“We know, Mr. Calloway.” Linda grinned at him. “We’re supposed to laugh at all of Becky’s jokes, whether they’re funny or not.”
“You got it.” Mr. Calloway sat down next to Judy, and took a deep breath. “What time is it?”
Judy glanced at her watch, which was difficult to see in the dim light. She stretched her arm toward the candle on the table and finally managed to read the dial. “It’s ten twenty-five. They should be doing Becky’s intro any minute now.”
Just then the lights came up, and Howie Thomas, the owner of the club, came out. He’d been a comedian in the fifties, and he was still pretty funny.
“We’ve got a little surprise for you tonight. One of my best buddies is here, and he owns a teen club in Burbank called Covers. Stan Calloway and I have been good friends for years, and he’s got a real eye for upcoming talent. Stand up and take a bow, Stan.”
Mr. Calloway stood up and everyone applauded. Then he sat down again, and muttered to them in an undertone. “That’s show biz, girls. I only met him once, and that was ten years ago.”
“Stan brought us his best stand-up comic, Miss Becky Fischer. Becky’s a doll, folks, and she’s a very funny little lady. Let’s all give a hearty Laughs Galore welcome to . . . Becky Fischer!”
“Where’s Michael?” Carla leaned close to Judy to whisper.
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen—there he is!” Judy pointed to the best table in the room, only inches from the stage. “He just sat down. He must have been backstage with Becky.”
Before Judy could say any more, Becky came out on the stage. She was wearing a sweater three sizes too large for her, and a shirt that was a hopelessly awkward length. There were huge horn-rimmed glasses on her face, and she peered at the audience near-sightedly. Her beautiful blonde hair was covered with an ugly brown wig, and she walked flat-footed in her brown lace-up oxfords.
“Hi?” Becky’s voice was small and tentative, as she looked out over the crowd. “My name is Ludmilla Grooch, but you can call me Lud.”
There were titters from the crowd. And then Michael called out, “Hey, Lud. You doing anything after the show tonight?”
Becky smiled, fluffing her awful brown wig. “Sorry, but I’m busy. I’ve got an appointment at the car wash. They let me go through for half price, because I walk.”
The audience started to laugh, but Becky kept a perfectly deadpan expression on her face. “It’s great for my hair, and it gets my clothes clean, too. And sometimes I even . . . but I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this.”
“Tell us!” A table of guys sitting in the back of the room started calling out at her. “Come on, Lud. Tell us!”
“Well . . .” Becky gave them an eager smile. “Sometimes I even take off my clothes. And the attendants are so nice. They leave because they don’t want to embarrass me.”
This time, the whole audience roared. But Becky frowned. “No, honest. The guys at Benny’s car wash are real gentlemen. They even cover their eyes when they run for their cars. And after they leave, I just press that little button for the hot wax. You see, I met this girl, and she said it cost her fifty dollars to get her legs waxed. So I figured . . .”
Becky didn’t have time to finish her sentence before the whole audience roared again. But something about Becky’s routine was beginning to bother Judy. She glanced over at Carla and winced. As usual, Carla was wearing a shapeless sweater, a baggy skirt, and her horned-rimmed glasses. Her hair wasn’t as awful as Becky’s wig, but it was the exact same color. And Carla was squinting at the stage, the same way Becky was squinting at the audience. Was it a coincidence? Judy hoped so. If it was intentional, Becky was doing a very spiteful imitation of Carla.
Judy looked over at Linda, her best friend at the club. Linda was frowning, too. They exchanged worried glances, but Carla was laughing, right along with the rest of the audience. Perhaps they were wrong?
Becky’s routine lasted another ten minutes, and Judy winced all the way through it. When Becky left the stage to a burst of thunderous applause, Judy felt sick. Becky’s routine had been excellent. She’d been funnier tonight than she’d ever been at Covers. But Ludmilla Grooch was Carla. Judy was sure of it, although Carla didn’t seem to realize that. She was clapping right along with the rest of the audience.
Becky came out to take a curtain call, and the audience applauded again. Then she hopped down off the stage, ran over to Michael and kissed him. On the lips.
Judy frowned. Michael seemed surprised at the kiss, but he didn’t pull away. He just hugged Becky tightly as he kissed her back, and then he pulled out a chair for her so she could sit down.
There was one more routine, and then a fifteen minute intermission. During the intermission, the Covers group met in the lobby to congratulate Becky. She’d taken off her brown wig and horned-rimmed glasses, and she was beaming as she accepted everyone’s congratulations.
“That’s a great routine.” Mr. Calloway patted Becky on the back. “Why didn’t you do it at Covers?”
Becky grinned and slipped her arm around Michael’s waist again. “Because it’s new. Michael’s been helping me with the jokes almost every night. And I didn’t want to do it at Covers because it’s based on Carla.”
Judy glanced over at Carla. Had she heard? Apparently not, because she was still smiling. Judy couldn’t believe Becky was being so cruel. She hadn’t even bothered to lower her voice.
“Becky?” Howie Thomas came rushing up, his round face flushed with exertion. “They loved you, kid. Can you work Sundays at nine?”
Becky absolutely beamed. “I’d love to, Mr. Thomas.”
“What do you say we go to my office right after we close, and work out the details? It shouldn’t take more than a half hour or so.”
“Sounds good to me.” Becky turned to Michael with a smile on her face. “I’ll meet you at the apartment in a couple of hours, okay?”
“Don’t you want to go out for a celebration?” Mr. Calloway asked. “I’ll take you all out for pizza, my treat.”
Becky shook her head. “We’ll have to take a raincheck. My older sister’s gone for the weekend, and I’ve got the keys to her apartment. Michael’s heading over there right now to put a bottle of champagne on ice.”
“You drove here? By yourself?” Carla looked worried.
Becky nodded. “Of course I did. And I’ve got a full tank of gas with a locking gas cap, so you guys don’t have to worry. I’ll see you all tomorrow night. And thanks for coming, okay?”
Everyone started for the door, but Becky called out to Judy. “I need to talk to you, Judy.”
“Yes?” Judy hung back as the others began to leave.
“You might as well mark me down as the winner right now. After I get through with Michael tonight, he’s going to be in no condition to even look at another girl!”
It was past midnight by the time Becky left Laughs Galore, but she was so happy, she wasn’t a bit tired. Mr. Thomas hadn’t offered her the salary she’d hoped to get, but it really didn’t matter. She’d be working at two clubs instead of just one. Twice as many people would see her now, and the audience at Laughs Galore was older, which meant she might be able to make valuable contacts.
&nb
sp; The moon was almost full, and Becky smiled as she walked across the parking lot. It was a perfect night for romance, and she had her bases covered. Her parents thought she was spending the night with a girlfriend. Since they left for work at seven in the morning, she wouldn’t have to be home until tomorrow afternoon. Twelve hours with Michael should be enough to win that contest.
There was only one other car in the parking lot, and Becky was sure it belonged to Mr. Thomas. Who else would drive a silver Jaguar with a license plate that said YUX? She walked past the Jaguar, wondering when she’d be able to afford a luxury car, and headed toward her bright yellow Toyota. It was a hand-me-down from her mother which her parents had given her at the beginning of the summer when her mother had replaced it with a newer model.
Becky looked into the window to make sure that no one was hiding inside before she unlocked the door. Michael had made her promise to be extra careful since she was driving alone and she’d forgotten her cell phone. She was pleased by all the extra attention she was getting from Michael. He was an absolute hunk, and she was crazy about him. Of course, she was also crazy about Bill Emmerson, and Craig Jensen, but they were seniors at Burbank High, so she’d have plenty of time for them next year.
Becky got into the car and locked the doors behind her. She wasn’t really worried. Deana had been killed miles from here, but it couldn’t hurt to be careful. She started her Toyota, put it into gear, and drove out of the parking lot with a triumphant smile on her face. When she arrived at Covers and confirmed that she’d spent the night with Michael, the girls would have to declare her the winner.
She didn’t hear the noise until she’d turned on Sepulveda and was heading up the pass. At first she hoped it was just the uneven road, but the bumping got worse with each passing second. A flat tire. And it was almost twelve-thirty in the morning. The houses in the pass were set back from the road, and she doubted that anyone would open their door at this hour. Why hadn’t she taken the freeway, where there were call boxes every mile for emergencies?