Obsessed (9781617732393)

by Gibson, Jo

  As Carla locked the back door behind her, she glanced around. Michael must have parked on the street because her car was the only one in the parking lot. They hadn’t known she was here, and that was good. Michael had no idea she’d seen him kissing Heidi.

  Carla got into her car, but she didn’t put the key in the ignition. She sat there, under the cover of darkness, and thought about Michael and Heidi. Michael was her best friend, the guy she was beginning to trust and love. Somehow she had to protect him and keep him from falling into Heidi’s trap. Michael was fascinated by Heidi, and Carla couldn’t blame him. Heidi was beautiful, and talented, and her family had plenty of Hollywood connections. If all things were equal, Heidi would be a perfect match for Michael, but things weren’t equal at all. Heidi didn’t care about Michael. All she cared about was herself. Michael might think he was dating the perfect girl, but he was bound to end up with a broken heart.

  It was hot in her car, and Carla rolled down the window. It was a perfect summer night in Southern California with a full moon casting romantic shadows over the palm trees that lined the parking lot. Things would be much better if Michael broke up with Heidi. Then Michael would be with her, and he might just . . .

  Carla groaned and put her romantic thoughts firmly out of her mind. Michael wasn’t with her. He was with Heidi. And Heidi was the wrong girl for him. If she wanted to save Michael from future heartbreak, she had to think of a permanent way to break them up.

  Heidi smiled as Michael began to sing another love song. He was so cute, and he had a wonderful voice. Heidi was sure that Doug Emery, her father’s record producer friend, would love Michael. If she could get him an audition.

  Naturally, Heidi had fibbed a little. She didn’t really have an audition lined up. But that should be simple enough to arrange if she told Daddy that she wanted to give her new boyfriend a shot at the big time. Daddy would do anything she asked, now that she’d broken it off with Derek Peters. He’d hated Derek with a passion. But he liked Michael. He’d told her he thought that Michael was a very nice guy.

  Heidi shivered a little. Daddy had been very angry when he’d found out she’d gone to a party at Derek’s apartment. She guessed she really couldn’t blame him. If she’d known that the police were going to raid the party, she never would have gone.

  Naturally, Daddy had grounded her. He’d even threatened to hire a bodyguard to make sure she didn’t get into any more trouble. But that was all in the past. Daddy liked Michael and he approved of her new romance. Of course Michael was a bit of a nerd, but it gave her great pleasure to take him away from Carla.

  The song ended, and Heidi smiled up at Michael. It was a tender smile, full of promise. “I think you’re going to be great, Michael. All you have to do is get more emotion in your love songs.”

  Michael looked a little puzzled. “Whatever you say, Heidi. But how should I do that?”

  “Look at me when you sing. And pretend that you’re completely in love with me.”

  “That shouldn’t be too hard.”

  Heidi’s smile grew wider. She was winning, and Carla was losing. There was no way Michael could think of Carla when she was coming on to him. It was a game she was playing, a test of her power to attract any guy she wanted. Keeping Michael away from Carla was a real ego trip for her.

  Michael had flicked a few switches before they’d stepped out onto the stage, but he hadn’t really bothered to light them like a stage act. Heidi moved her chair to a position directly under the overhead spot and got ready to sing with Michael. His face was in shadow, and he looked so handsome, she got a lump in her throat. Michael was good, and perhaps he’d make it . . . as long as she helped him. With her father’s connections, they could even land a spot on television. The talk shows were always looking for musical numbers between the guests. Their television appearances could lead to bigger and better things, like their own show. Anything was possible.

  As Michael sang, he gazed at her admiringly from the shadows. Heidi basked in his attention, and got ready to join in on the chorus. But just as she was about to open her mouth to sing, Michael stopped abruptly.

  “Did you hear something?”

  Heidi listened for a moment, and then she shook her head. “No. What’s the matter?”

  “I thought I heard someone moving up on the catwalk.”

  Heidi felt a prickle of alarm. What if someone had heard them singing and come in? “Did you lock the door behind us?”

  “I think so.” Michael nodded. “I’ll go and check it.”

  Heidi began to shiver slightly as Michael got up. For some strange reason, she didn’t want to be alone on the stage. She felt like a sitting duck, right here under the bright spotlight. As Michael went down the steps into the audience, she almost got up to join him. But that was silly. There was no one here except the two of them.

  “It’s okay. The door’s locked.” Michael’s voice floated up from the darkness. “Wait there, Heidi. My throat’s dry. I’m going to get us a couple of drinks from the kitchen. What do you want?”

  Heidi took a deep breath. She still felt uneasy. “Apple juice, if they’ve got it.”

  “Okay. I’ll be back in a second.”

  Heidi heard Michael’s footsteps travel across the floor. The kitchen door creaked as it swung open, and then there was only silence. She imagined Michael flicking on the kitchen light, and rummaging around in the cooler, looking for her apple juice. Why hadn’t she asked for something simple, like tap water? That would have taken much less time.

  And then she heard it, stealthy footsteps high above her head. She almost screamed, but then she remembered Andy talking about the squirrels that lived in the tree by the side of the building. The noise she’d heard was probably the squirrels, scampering across the roof.

  What was taking Michael so long? Heidi shivered again, and wished she’d brought a sweater. The air conditioning was on and it was cold up here on the stage with only two spots to light it.

  There was another sound, and Heidi held her breath. She didn’t like being out here all alone, but she knew it would be foolish to move out of the light. She might trip over a cable and hurt herself. If she sat here quietly, Michael would be back in just a moment.

  And then she heard the sound of breathing. It sounded very loud in the stillness, and she began to panic.

  “Michael?” Heidi’s voice was low, barely more than a whisper. She didn’t want him to know that she was frightened. But there was no answer. Michael was still in the kitchen.

  Suddenly the spots went out, plunging the stage into darkness. Heidi jumped as she heard a loud snap, high overhead. A cable had broken! She opened her mouth to scream, but before she had time to utter a single sound, a heavy arc light hurtled down to crash on top of her head.

  Eleven

  It was Monday noon, and the cast and crew were sitting around the round table at Covers. Mr. Calloway had called them in, to tell them what had happened. Only one person was missing and that was Michael.

  Carla shivered, and glanced around her. Although they were only a few feet from the stage, no one was looking at the spot where Heidi had died.

  “Where’s Michael?” Linda asked the question that was on everyone’s mind.

  “He should be here any moment.” Mr. Calloway looked grim. “He called about fifteen minutes ago, and said he was just leaving Detective Davis’s office.”

  “They let him go?!”

  Winona looked shocked, and Carla knew that the rumors were flying again. She took a deep breath and tried to explain. “Of course they let him go. The only reason he had to go in was to give Detective Davis his statement. After all, he was a witness.”

  Just then the front door opened, and Michael came in. He looked tired and haggard, and Carla knew he hadn’t had any sleep. She patted the empty chair next to her, and Michael sat down gratefully.

  At first no one seemed to know what to say, but after a few moments of uncomfortable silence had passed, Mr. Calloway clea
red his throat. “Would you like to tell us what happened, Michael?”

  Michael nodded. “I’ll tell you what I know, but that’s not much. It’s like I told Detective Davis. I was in the kitchen, pouring Heidi some apple juice, when all the lights went out. Then I heard a terrible crash, and I called out to Heidi, but she didn’t answer. It took me a minute to get to the light box. It was dark, and I had to feel my way. I turned the lights back on, and then I . . . I saw what had happened.”

  “Oh, my God!” Linda’s voice was shaking. “And you . . . you found her?”

  Michael nodded, and Carla reached out to squeeze his hand. She could tell he was having trouble speaking.

  “The arc light was down on the floor of the stage, smashed to pieces. And then I saw Heidi. She looked like . . .” Michael swallowed hard, “. . . like a fallen angel, all crumpled up on the stage.”

  Michael stopped and swallowed again. It took him a moment to gain control of his voice. “I guess I was trying to fool myself by feeling for her pulse. It was pretty clear that she was dead. The arc light was heavy and it fell right on top of her . . . her head.”

  “That’s enough, Michael.” Andy patted his shoulder. “You don’t have to go into the details. You found her, felt for her pulse, and then you called the police. Is that right?”

  Michael nodded. “After I made the call, I went back to her. I was going to stay right by her until the police came. That’s when I noticed the arrow.”

  “You didn’t see the arrow before?” Andy frowned slightly.

  “No. But maybe I just didn’t notice. I can’t say for sure whether it was there or not, when I first found her.”

  Andy nodded. “What did you do then?”

  “I just stared at the arrow for a minute. I think I was in shock. I’d thought Heidi’s death was an accident, but when I saw the arrow, I knew it was murder. And then I remembered the noise we’d heard when we were singing and I panicked. I ran out the door and waited for the police on the street.”

  “Noise?” Mr. Calloway raised his eyebrows. “What kind of noise?”

  “Footsteps. Above the stage. It sounded like someone was up on the catwalk, walking around.”

  “What did you do when you heard the footsteps?” Andy opened his notebook and began to write.

  “I went to check the door, but it was locked and I didn’t see anybody lurking around. The noise had stopped by then, and I figured that it had been caused by something natural, like an animal running across the roof, or a tree branch rubbing against the building.”

  “But it wasn’t something natural.” Linda shuddered. “What you heard was the Cupid Killer! It’s a good thing you waited for the police outside. He might have come after you!”

  “You’re wrong, Linda! The Cupid Killer wouldn’t touch Michael. He only murders Michael’s girlfriends.” Winona blurted out what almost everyone was thinking. Then she looked very embarrassed at what she’d said. “Sorry, Michael. I’ve got a big mouth.”

  “Maybe, but I’m afraid you’re right.” Michael looked grim. “I should have grabbed Heidi and ran out the door. But I didn’t know that he was up there.”

  “Of course you didn’t.” Carla reached out to pat his hand. “There’s one thing that puzzles me, though. How did the Cupid Killer get in if the door was locked?”

  “Maybe I just thought I locked it. I’ve gone over it a million times in my head, but I’m just not sure.”

  Andy looked very sympathetic. He could tell that Michael was agonizing over whether he’d locked the door. “Hey, Michael . . . it doesn’t really matter whether you locked the door or not. I’m almost sure there’s a way inside without a key.”

  “That’s right.” Berto spoke up. “Andy and I are almost certain that someone’s been breaking in. There’s been a lot of food missing, and we think somebody’s been cooking in the kitchen.”

  Andy nodded. “The pots and pans tipped us off. They’re always washed, but sometimes we find them put back in the wrong place.”

  “I guess it’s time to ask some questions.” Mr. Calloway looked around the table, and sighed. “Look, gang . . . I expect to have some missing food, once in awhile. I don’t pay that much, and I’ve always told you that if you’re hungry, you can have a meal on me, right?”

  Carla nodded along with everyone else, but she began to get terribly nervous. She held her breath as Mr. Calloway continued.

  “I’ve never really bothered to keep a complete inventory, but lately things have really gotten out of hand. Andy and Berto told me that food has been disappearing every night. I really hate to ask, but . . . have any of you been coming in after hours to eat?”

  One by one, they shook their heads. There was a long silence, and finally Carla spoke up. “Mr. Calloway?”

  “Yes, Carla.”

  “I’ve noticed something, too. But I didn’t want to say anything before now. Some of the petty cash has been missing, and I’ve been making up the losses out of my own pocket. It hasn’t been much . . . only a couple of dollars a day.”

  “Carla!” Mr. Calloway looked shocked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Carla sighed. She knew she should have reported the loss. “I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble. And I was sure the money would be returned, sooner or later. I knew it had to be someone who worked here, because everyone knows where I keep the key to the cash drawer.”

  “Right.” Mr. Calloway nodded, and he faced the group again. “I want you to tell me if any of you have taken money out of the cash drawer. You don’t have to worry. I’ll understand. And I’ll let you make it up out of your paycheck.”

  There was another uncomfortable silence, and then Andy spoke up. “I’m sure that no one on the kitchen staff took any money. We’re all friends, and we’re a pretty tight group. If someone needed money, they would have asked me for a loan.”

  Linda, who was the unofficial leader of the talent, shook her head. “None of the talent took any money. I’m sure of it.”

  “And no one on the crew did.” Marc Allen began to frown. “We’re a tight group, too. And I would have heard about it.”

  Carla sighed deeply. “Someone took that money. I count the cash every night, and there’s always two or three dollars missing.”

  “When did you notice the missing money?” Andy looked up from his notebook.

  “A couple of weeks ago. At first, I thought I’d made a mistake, so I started counting the money twice. I do it once when I come in, and once when I leave at night. It’s all there when I leave, but it’s gone when I come in the next day.”

  “How about a former employee?” Michael raised the question. “Somebody who used to work here could be coming back to eat and steal money from the cash drawer.”

  Mr. Calloway shook his head. “That makes sense, except for one thing. There aren’t any former employees. No one’s ever quit. And I’ve never fired anyone. Most of you started when Covers opened, and you’re all still here.”

  “But Judy’s not here anymore.” Vera’s voice was shaking. “Judy’s a former employee.”

  “Judy Lampert?” Carla’s mouth dropped open as Vera nodded. “But Vera . . . Judy’s dead! Dead girls don’t eat food, and they certainly don’t steal money out of petty cash.”

  Vera looked a little embarrassed, but she stuck to her guns. “What if Judy’s like the Phantom of the Opera? Maybe we just think she’s dead. Linda told me she found some blankets folded up in one of the dressing rooms, and it looked like someone was sleeping in there. Maybe it’s Judy.”

  “It’s not.” Carla shook her head. “Judy was killed in her car. We told you it burned, remember?”

  “I know. But how do we know that Judy didn’t crawl out? She could be hideously deformed like the Phantom was. And she could be hiding out right here at Covers.”

  “Come on, Vera.” Michael patted her softly. “You’re not making sense.”

  “But I am! Judy said she was the Cupid Killer in that note she left! And then the police f
ound an arrow in Liz’s body. There was a second arrow last night, and that proves that Judy’s still alive!”

  “You’re wrong, Vera.” Andy looked very serious. “Judy’s dead. We can swear to that. Michael and Carla and I saw her body. We identified her for the police.”

  Vera swallowed hard. Her face turned pale, and she looked absolutely horrified. “Oh, my God! That’s even worse!”

  “What’s even worse?” Carla looked puzzled.

  “If Judy’s dead, then she’s . . . she’s haunting us! And she’s murdering people from her grave!”

  Marc Allen began to laugh. It was clear he didn’t believe Vera’s theory. “I love it! If Judy’s spirit is hanging around, I want her to show me how to fight the backdrop for the Covers logo.”

  Carla could tell that Vera was ready to cry. Tears welled up in her eyes as she turned to Marc. “Don’t laugh, Marc. It’s scary! My aunt used to talk about ghosts and I never really believed her, but . . . but I do now!”

  “Take it easy, Vera.” Michael reached out to hug her. “Tell us why you’re so frightened.”

  “I . . . I was the last one to leave on Saturday night. And I saw Judy. I know I did.”

  Linda frowned. “Come on, Vera. You didn’t really see her. You just thought you did.”

  “I did see her!” Vera shook her head. “I left my purse in the office, and Andy let me back in to get it. The light was on in the kitchen, and I started to open the door to turn it off. That’s when I saw her. Judy Lampert was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich!”

  “Well, that explains where all my dill slices have been going.” Andy began to chuckle. “They were Judy’s favorite pickles.”

  “Go to hell, Andy!” Vera gave him a dirty look, and promptly burst into tears. “I don’t care if any of you believe me or not. But I saw her! And it scared me half to death!”