by Gibson, Jo
“Judy . . . I . . . I really have to leave now.”
Michael took a step toward the house. Judy managed to cut him off by grabbing his arm, but it was clear he didn’t want to be close to her. “Come on, Michael. I only did what was best for you, and you ought to be grateful. And I’m so glad to see you again! How about a kiss for old times’ sake?”
Michael gave a bitter laugh. “What ‘old times’ are you talking about? The last time I saw you, you told Detective Davis that I tried to kill you!”
“Please, Michael. I already explained why I had to do that.” Judy got a good grip on his arm and pulled him closer. “Let’s be friends again. It used to be so nice.”
“You’re deluding yourself, Judy. It was never nice. The past few weeks have been a nightmare!”
“I know.” Judy slipped her other arm around Michael’s shoulders, and hugged him tightly. “I’m really sorry about that, but everything’s okay now. Don’t you see, Michael? If you have to go to trial, you can get off by claiming temporary insanity.”
“I’m not the one who’s insane. You are. You killed them all. Not me!”
Judy shuddered at the cold expression in Michael’s eyes, but she took a deep breath and went on. “I’ll wait for you, Michael. I promise. And then we can pick up the pieces and start over. I know we can!”
Michael tried to break away, but Judy just hugged him tighter. She rubbed her breasts up against his chest, and snuggled her body against his. “I don’t care what people say, Michael. I’ll always love you. Forever and ever. Don’t you believe me?”
“Oh, I believe you!” Michael stared down at her, his eyes as cold as glaciers. “Listen to me, Judy. I don’t want your love. I never did, and I never will. All I want is for you to leave me completely alone!”
“You don’t really mean that.” Judy wrapped her arms around Michael’s neck and forced his lips down to hers. A kiss would do it. There was no way Michael could resist her kisses. But Michael’s lips were like granite, cold and firm with no hint of passion. Even though Judy tried to make him respond, kissing Michael was like kissing a stone statue.
And then Michael thrust her back so hard, she almost fell. Judy stumbled and looked up at him, tears in her eyes. “I . . . I don’t understand! You used to like to kiss me! We were such good friends!”
Michael turned on his heel, and walked toward his house. He opened the door, and then he turned back to look at her. “Forget it, Judy. Crawl back in the same hole you crawled out of, and don’t bother me again. I’ll never forgive you for what you did to me!”
Judy gave a deep sigh of resignation as he strode into the house and slammed the patio door behind him. It wouldn’t do any good to pound on the door. Michael wouldn’t let her in. He was still so angry about being locked up in Brookhaven, he wasn’t thinking straight.
There was nothing to do but go home. Judy stepped back through the gap in the hedge, and hurried into her house. When she got to the privacy of her bedroom, she sat down on the bed and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was prettier than any of Michael’s dead girlfriends. With her light blond hair, deep green eyes, and perfect figure, she could attract any other boy she wanted. But Judy wanted Michael. He was the only one who could make her truly happy. And Michael had rejected her. Again.
Tears rolled down Judy’s cheeks, and she didn’t even bother to blink them back. She couldn’t really blame Michael for being upset. He was still a suspect in the murders, and he’d never forgive her for that.
Judy’s mind spun in crazy circles. There just had to be some way to get Michael to forgive her. Life wasn’t worth living without his love. She had to prove to Michael that she loved him more than life itself.
The moment Judy thought of it, she raced to the desk for a pen and some paper. There was only one way to make Michael forgive her. It was drastic, but she would do it. Michael had loved her before. Judy was sure of it. And after tonight, he’d love her again, throughout eternity.
One
Carla Fields surveyed the audience with a smile. Every table was taken and there was a party of six, standing in the back near the entrance, waiting for stools at the non-alcoholic fruit juice bar. The flyer Carla had posted on the bulletin boards of six area high schools had done the trick. Covers was doing booming business.
“Carla?” Mr. Calloway rushed up to grab Carla’s arm. “Has Judy Lampert called in?”
Carla’s smile faded abruptly at the mention of Judy’s name. “No, Mr. Calloway. Isn’t she here?”
“Not yet. And no one’s seen her. Call her house right away. If she’s still there, tell her to get over here on the double!”
“Yes, Mr. Calloway.” Carla turned and went toward the phone in the office. She’d hoped that Mr. Calloway would fire Judy, but he hadn’t. And when Carla had asked him why he’d kept Judy on, after all the awful things she’d done, Mr. Calloway had told her that he couldn’t fire someone on suspicion alone. There was no proof that Judy was the Cupid Killer, and until there was, it wouldn’t be fair to fire her. Mr. Calloway always gave everyone the benefit of the doubt, even if they didn’t deserve it.
Carla sat down behind her desk, and flipped through her file cards to find Judy’s number. Even if Judy wasn’t the Cupid Killer, Carla still had reason to hate her. Judy had lied to the police and that was why Michael had been locked up in Brookhaven.
Working with Judy, feeling as she did, was one of the hardest things that Carla had ever been forced to do. But she certainly wasn’t about to quit the best job she’d ever had. She’d managed to avoid Judy quite successfully in the past few months and so had Andy. Both of them believed that Judy had framed Michael for the murders she, herself, had committed. Proof, or no proof. That really didn’t matter. Carla and Andy were sure they were right.
The phone was answered on the third ring, and Carla recognized the housekeeper’s heavily accented voice. “Hi, Marta. This is Carla Fields from Covers. Is Judy there?”
“No, Miss Carla. She’s gone to work.”
Carla frowned. Judy was probably walking in the door right now, giving Mr. Calloway some excuse he couldn’t refuse to accept. “What time did she leave, Marta?”
“It’s been a long time. I heard her car drive away before Jeopardy started. That was at seven. And now Wheel of Fortune is over.”
Carla glanced at her watch and frowned as she saw it was a few minutes past eight. Had Judy stopped somewhere on the way? She lived less than ten minutes away from Covers.
“Is there a problem?”
Marta sounded worried, and Carla tried to reassure her. After all, she had no quarrel with Judy’s housekeeper. “It’s all right, Marta. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”
But Carla wasn’t as confident as she sounded, and when she hung up the phone she gave an exasperated sigh. Judy knew the show started promptly at eight-fifteen.
“Did you reach her?”
Carla looked up from her desk to see Mr. Calloway standing in the doorway. He looked very worried and Carla knew why. There was no way they could do a show without a stage manager.
“No, Mr. Calloway. Marta said she left over an hour ago. Are we going to cancel if she doesn’t show up?”
“We can’t do that. We’ve got a full house out there. Can you fill in for Judy?”
“Me?” Carla was shocked. “But, Mr. Calloway . . . I don’t know anything about the light board!”
“Neither does anybody else. What do you say, Carla? Will you give it a try? We’ll all help you.”
Carla took one look at Mr. Calloway’s anxious face, and she nodded. “Okay. I’ll try. But don’t blame me if I blow out every circuit in the building.”
“I’m here, Carla.” Andy came up behind Carla, and sat down on a stool. “When Phil comes on stage, you bring up the baby spots. Got it?”
“I think so.”
Carla waited until Phil MacMahon, the club magician, had positioned himself on stage. Then she brought up the spotlights and crossed her fi
ngers for luck.
“Relax, Carla.” Andy grinned at her. “Just leave the spots on until Phil asks for volunteers from the audience. Then turn on the houselights and wait until they get up on stage.”
Carla followed Andy’s instructions carefully. When the three volunteers took their places on the stage, she looked to him for her next cue.
“Go back to the spots now. When Phil pulls the flowers out of his hat, hit them with the magenta filter.”
“Okay.” Carla nodded, and then she turned to Andy. “You should be doing this. You know much more about it than I do.”
“Wrong. I just know about Phil’s act. I watch it every night from the kitchen. Get ready, Carla . . . he’s going to pull out the flowers . . . now!”
Carla flicked the proper switch, and the flowers gleamed with a rosy light. She began to smile as the audience applauded. So far, so good.
“Okay . . . cut the magenta and go back to the spots. He’s going to do a card trick next.”
“Got it.” Carla nodded, and breathed a deep sigh of relief. Everyone had been very cooperative when Mr. Calloway had explained their problem. Almost all of the performers watched the other acts, and they’d all agreed to help. Phil had helped her when Linda O‘Keefe had sung her ballads, and Linda had helped with Rob Crawford’s comedy routine. Berto had put down his apron and tray, and rushed behind the curtain to help with Tim Bradley’s act, and The Alway Brothers, all three of them, had prompted her on Jerry Maxwell’s jazz set. Vera Rozhinski had cued her for The Alway Brothers’ juggling act, and Mr. Calloway had given her instructions for Greg and Gina Carlson’s dance routine.
With Andy’s help, Carla managed to light Phil’s magic act without any major mistakes. She brought up the houselights for the intermission, and grabbed the handkerchief Andy provided to wipe the nervous perspiration from her forehead.
“I never knew this job was so hard. And I’ve still got three acts to go!”
“Relax, kid.” Andy gave her a little hug. “Everybody’s getting their own props, and that helps a lot. The Hot Rocks are up next, and you only have to change their lighting between numbers. And then there’s Nicole Powell. All she needs is a spot on her guitar. The finale’s easy. Just fade to black when Tim sings the last line of ‘Sweet Night,’ and you’re through.”
Carla nodded, but she wasn’t convinced. She kept thinking of all the things that could go wrong. She could hit the wrong switch and plunge the stage into darkness, or the finicky old light board could burst into flames if she brought the lights up too fast.
Thankfully, none of the disasters that Carla had imagined actually happened, and she got through the whole show without doing anything drastically wrong. As she listened to the thunderous applause at the end of the show, Carla felt a swell of pride. She’d never realized that she had any talent at all, and with the help of her friends, she’d managed to light the show!
After the audience had left, the cast and crew gathered around the big round table in the center of the room. It was a Covers’ tradition. Vera mixed drinks, Andy prepared a big tray of leftover food, and they all got together after every performance so Mr. Calloway could critique the show.
Carla took the seat next to Mr. Calloway and opened her notebook. As the assistant manager, it was her job to take notes.
“Forget the critique tonight, gang.” Mr. Calloway smiled at all of them. “I’m very proud of the way you all pulled together to make tonight’s show a success. You’re all troopers. Especially you, Carla. We couldn’t have done it without you.”
Carla blushed as everyone applauded. She really wasn’t used to being in the limelight. Her usual job was to take tickets, usher people in, and run the office. She knew that Mr. Calloway appreciated the work she did, but it was very unusual for anyone else to pay attention to her.
“Thank you.” Carla smiled at everyone. “I just hope I never have to do this again. I was so nervous, I almost lit Linda’s hair with a bright green spot.”
Everyone laughed, including Linda. And then Mr. Calloway spoke up again. “I’ve been thinking . . . the problem tonight could happen again. I think we need an understudy for the critical jobs. What if Andy calls in sick? Do any of you know how to run the kitchen?”
“I might be able to do it.” Berto nodded. “Andy’s been teaching me.”
“Good. How about the bar? Could anyone fill in for Vera?”
“I think I could.” Tammy Burns, one of the waitresses, raised her hand. “Vera showed me how to mix the drinks.”
“But how about Carla’s job? Does anyone know the ticket prices, and how many seats we have in the house?”
There was absolute silence, and Mr. Calloway nodded. “Just as I thought. I think it’s time we hire someone who can fill in for any crew or staff position. Run an ad, Carla, and we’ll start interviewing applicants.”
“Did you find out what happened to Judy?” Andy looked very disgruntled. “She really left us in the lurch!”
Mr. Calloway shook his head. “She hasn’t called in. I called her house again, but the housekeeper hasn’t heard from her, either.”
Carla frowned. She really didn’t care what had happened to Judy, but she couldn’t help being a bit curious. Judy had never failed to show up for a performance before.
“Do you think we should call the police?” Linda looked anxious. “I mean . . . it’s our duty to report her missing, isn’t it?”
“I called them at intermission, but they weren’t very helpful.” Mr. Calloway sighed. “They told me that she has to be missing for twenty-four hours before they can file a missing person’s report.”
“But can’t they do anything?” Linda looked shocked. “I mean . . . what if she got carjacked or something?”
“I talked to Detective Davis, and he said they’d look for her unofficially. I described her car, and he promised to call if . . . ”
The office phone rang, interrupting Mr. Calloway’s explanation, and he rushed off to answer it. All conversation immediately ceased, as everyone listened in on his side of the conversation.
“Yes . . . that’s right. A late model Volvo, dark gray.”
Carla held her breath. She hoped they’d found Judy in the act of committing a crime. At least she couldn’t sweet talk her way out of that! But the next thing Mr. Calloway said made her frown.
“Completely burned? I see. Did Judy . . . oh, no! And you’re sure that it’s Judy’s car?”
Carla exchanged anxious looks with Andy. This sounded serious! And then Mr. Calloway started to speak again.
“Of course I will. The lookout on Laurel Canyon? Yes, I know where it is. I’ll close up right now. If the traffic’s light, I can be there in twenty minutes.”
Mr. Calloway’s face was gray when he came back to the table. He sat down, and swallowed hard. “They found Judy’s car. She went through the guardrail at the Laurel Canyon lookout.”
“But is she all right?” Linda drew in her breath sharply when Mr. Calloway shook his head. “You mean she’s . . . ”
Linda’s voice faltered, and there was absolute silence. The seconds ticked by, and then Mr. Calloway cleared his throat.
“Her car burst into flames when it hit the bottom of the ravine. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but . . . Judy Lampert is dead.”
Two
They all stood in a tight little group by the side of the road, Andy, Carla, Mr. Calloway, and Michael. Andy had called to tell Michael the news, and Michael had insisted on meeting them here. Now they were waiting for the winch to haul Judy’s car out of the ravine.
Carla glanced down, into the canyon, and shuddered. Judy’s body was still inside the burned-out wreckage of her car. When a passing motorist had spotted the smoldering vehicle, a rescue team had been called. They’d climbed down and pronounced Judy dead. Then another team had hooked a steel cable to the wreckage, and a huge tow truck had arrived to pull the car up the side of the ravine.
“Are you all right, Michael?” Mr. Calloway so
unded concerned.
Michael nodded. “Don’t worry about me. I’m okay. I’m just having some regrets, that’s all. Now I wish I’d been nicer to Judy when she came over to see me tonight.”
“Judy came to see you?” Carla was instantly suspicious. She was sure that Judy had been up to no good. “What did she want?”
“She had some crazy theory about how she’d saved my life by getting me locked up at Brookhaven. I didn’t really listen. I just wanted to get away from her. You guys know how hard it is for me to deal with Judy.”
“Of course.” Carla nodded. She understood perfectly. After all the grief Judy had caused Michael, she didn’t see how he could deal with her at all!
“I think Judy wanted reassurance. She kept telling me how much she still loved me, and she tried to kiss me. But all I could think of was getting rid of her. I . . . I told her to get lost. And I said I never wanted to see her again. Of course I didn’t know that she’d wind up . . . ” Michael took a deep breath and shivered, “. . . like this!”
There was an ear-splitting squeal as the steel cable tightened. Carla knew it was only the squeal of metal, but it sounded like the howl of some sort of huge, prehistoric animal. She glanced down into the ravine again, and watched as the wreckage started to move. It was burned so badly, it was unrecognizable. “Are they sure that’s Judy’s car?”
“They’re sure.” Mr. Calloway nodded. “Detective Davis said his men managed to read the license plate. They ran it through their computers, and it’s registered to Judy.”
Andy was frowning as he walked over to the shattered guardrail and saw the path that Judy’s car had taken. “I don’t understand how Judy could have crashed through this guardrail. She had to slow for the curve. And that means she couldn’t have been going that fast.”