I followed him to the table. “Coffee anyone?”
“And ruin a nice buzz?” Abby giggled.
“O’Dell. You’re coming to the cast party after the show tonight? Creston Players are springing for the spread.” Penny swallowed the last bit of her dinner.
“I’ll be there. How was the Stroganoff?” I asked.
“Best I’ve ever had,” Alex said.
Abby and Penny nodded.
“I’ll tell Henry.”
Out of curiosity, I texted Pauli to see if he discovered what kinds of jobs Otto Junior had during his time in Ohio and Pennsylvania and if there was any indication he’d ever lived in New Jersey. The remainder of the dinner service was uneventful with few customers, none of whom seemed talkative, many of whom left by seven fifteen to finagle good seats for the show tonight. I was fidgety, organizing the pantry shelves, wiping down the bar, and rearranging the artificial flowers on each table.
“Earth to Dodie. Come on down,” Benny said.
“Guess I’m distracted.”
“You’ve been wiping the same spot for the last five minutes.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.” Benny took the sponge out of my hand. “Have you eaten anything today? Take a seat and I’ll bring you some Stroganoff.”
I plopped onto a barstool. “I’m not really hungry. Maybe a seltzer with lime—”
“Oh no you don’t. You’re gonna eat. I can’t have you calling in sick and leaving me to referee Wilson and Henry.” He folded his arms across his chest. “It’s been a rough week for you,” he said kindly.
I agreed. I jumped up. “I’ll get my own dinner, but thanks for the offer.” I had no intention of passing out invitations to my personal pity party.
20
By ten o’clock, I figured Bill would be approaching his entrance in Act Two, and Pauli would be mesmerized, once again, by Janice’s performance as Sweet Apple, Ohio’s heroine. Offstage, it looked like the athlete actor from Creston was out of the picture. My cell binged: Can’t find jobs for Otto Jr. no Jersey connection, Pauli texted. I was disappointed that he’d found no trace of Junior’s work or life in New Jersey.
“So take off already,” Benny said.
“Sure you don’t mind closing?”
Benny scanned the dining room. “There’s nothing happening here. Henry may shut the kitchen early.”
“I’ll cover for you tomorrow night,” I said.
“Thanks. I’ve wanted to take the princess to that new movie. The one with the talking furniture? She’ll get a kick out of it,” Benny said.
“Fun. Go make plans.”
I stuck my head in the kitchen to let Henry know I was off duty, blew Benny a kiss, and grabbed my bag. I texted Gillian that I was on my way to retrieve the concession cash.
Slipping into Bill’s BMW was like sinking into a warm bubble bath—comfort, relaxation, and a sweet aroma. My Metro usually smelled of takeout food. I pushed thoughts of my old companion out of my head, and cruised down Main Street. Etonville was a ghost town tonight. I hoped that meant there was a full house at the show.
As I neared the park, I scoured the adjacent streets for a parking space. No way was I going to end up near a vacant lot or deserted neighborhood this time. I’d find an illegal spot if I had to. After all, it was Bill’s car. He wouldn’t have himself ticketed, right? As the parking gods were with me, a Jeep was leaving a prime location a block from the stage on the opposite side of the park from the site of my Metro’s demise. I checked and double-checked the locks on the BMW and headed toward the raucous sounds of music and audience guffaws. I listened. It was the reprise of the “Kids” number with much of the company on stage. I approached the back side of the portable dressing stalls where a handful of actors were milling around, whispering, or dashing into stalls to repair make-up. I saw Abby, Edna, and a couple of guys from the Creston Players.
“How’s it going?” I murmured to Edna.
“It’s a 10-2,” Edna said.
I assumed that was a positive response.
“Good reception,” she said.
“Wilson?” I asked cautiously.
“Like a pro. He hasn’t missed a beat,” Abby said. High praise coming from someone always fast to criticize and slow to compliment.
One more show after tonight. “Is the chief around?” I scanned the area. He should have been hanging out, waiting for the curtain call unless he intended to get dressed down by Penny.
“Well, we had a situation.” Edna and Abby exchanged looks.
Not another crisis! “What happened?”
“There was a pile-up out on the highway—” Abby began.
“Multiple vehicles. A code 10, a code 20 and an 11-79,” Edna said firmly. “They asked for backup from Etonville PD.”
“What’s that mean—?”
Abby harrumphed. “For Pete’s sake, Edna. Tell her the—”
“Trauma cases,” Edna said and adjusted her costume.
“So Bill never went on tonight?”
“Duty called,” Edna said and skittered off. “Got to get back on stage.”
“Who’s taking his role?” I asked.
“Walter doubled up another cop since he didn’t have any lines,” said Abby.
Poor Bill. He had to miss his moment in the spotlight. Just when he was beginning to enjoy himself. I gulped and stared over Abby’s shoulder. “Is that…?”
She jerked her head around. “Dale.”
“What’s he doing here?” I croaked.
“Word is he’s out on bail. Walter spotted him at intermission. Guess he couldn’t stay away. I hear he’s been drinking, and is angling to pick a fight tonight,” Abby said.
“He’s not a flight risk?”
“Not in that condition. Anyway, he must have a good lawyer,” Abby murmured.
His bald head was a prominent spot of white. “I think he’s missing his—”
“Toupee. Yeah.” Abby dashed off.
Whoa. Dale must be really loaded to show up in public without his hairpiece. He was weaving his way through the trees, definitely unsteady on his pins. He stopped and seemed to focus, heading straight for me. Uh-oh. I had two choices: I could beat it out of here and hope that Dale wandered off or stay and waylay any attempt on his part to “pick a fight” by interrupting the performance. Who knew how angry he was? He’d lost his role in the show, his business, his standing in the theatrical community, and maybe his freedom if convicted. I decided to be proactive.
I marched through the stand of trees, and raised a hand to halt his forward progress. “Hey Dale. You can’t be back here while the show is going on.”
He squinted at me, his face finally registering my identity. “If it isn’t Dodie O’Dell. Private eye,” he said sarcastically and hiccupped.
“Dale, let’s get you some coffee.” I had no idea where I was going to find coffee, but it seemed like a good way to keep him occupied until the curtain rang down for the final time.
“You told Lola about me didn’t you? About Ruby and me.”
Was he confessing to more than the financial fraud? “What do you think I told her?”
“I’m wise to you. All of you.” He swung an arm in a wide arc, encompassing the stage, the park, and all of Etonville. He moved forward, now just feet from me.
“Shhh! Bye, Bye, Birdie’s not over yet.” From the corner of my eye, I could see Alex conducting the band as they began the final chorus of “Rosie” with Lola and Wilson in a sweet embrace.
“I should be out there singing.” He looked mournful, and for a brief moment, I almost felt sorry for him. “Instead of…who is that anyway?” He peered around me.
“Wilson. From the Windjammer,” I said with pride.
“They got a cook to replace me?” He let out a howl that would have carried into the
house if the combo hadn’t struck their last notes. The audience erupted in cheers.
He stepped to me threateningly, yanking on my arm. “You’ll pay for this.”
I wrenched myself away from him, falling to the ground in the process, landing on my sore shoulder. “Dale! Stop.”
He loomed over me. “Stay away from me. Stay away from Lola.”
He was going to jail, and Lola was my best friend. “That’s it. I’m calling the police.” I whipped my cell out of my purse, but before I could tap on the numbers Dale ran into the trees. I reached Suki on dispatch, and relayed my run-in with the erstwhile actor. She alerted Ralph, who was already on duty at the park. But probably more focused on the musical than on security. I was shaky as I brushed myself off, smoothed my blouse, and cut through the back of the set to the refreshment stand where Gillian was simultaneously watching the curtain call and tapping away on her cell phone. I collected the night’s profits and released her.
The audience was on its feet, cheering and applauding. I joined in, smiling at Wilson and Lola as they took their final bow. The curtain fell, lights flicked on, and the crowd morphed into a noisy mass of humanity.
Lola spotted me and waved. I waved back. I sat down on a folding chair to wait for the cast to deposit costumes into Chrystal’s ready hands. I texted Bill to see how he was doing. It must have been some kind of catastrophe to call in support from neighboring towns.
One of the Creston Players attached an iPod to speakers, and music poured into the night. More stage lights flashed on, the curtain opened, and the cast, in street clothes, whooped it up, dancing, and generally having a good time. They deserved it after the numerous Bye, Bye, Birdie crises! I glanced around—I hoped Dale had removed himself from the scene.
Penny and Edna erected a folding table, and the Creston Players laid out a feast. They’d offered to host the company party tonight, and supplied food and drinks. The Etonville park service, with the encouragement of a donation, agreed to keep their security and maintenance on call for an additional hour and a half after the show closed. Time enough for the cast to party. The Etonville police department’s contribution was Ralph, who positioned himself by the food table and munched on fried chicken legs.
Wilson glided past with a plate of pasta salad, and pointed at me. “Do-dee, I am coming back to dance with you!”
Before I could respond, he receded into a cluster of actors. I wandered to the concession stand where the Players were dispensing lemonade and sodas.
“Hey, O’Dell.”
“Hi Penny. Nice party.” I flipped the tab off my drink. The Creston Players had indeed provided quite a spread.
She made a face. “Agreed. The ELT offered to bring stuff, but the Players said they were taking care of everything.”
Penny was in my head again…but I didn’t mind tonight. I was happy to see everyone celebrating. “Congratulations on finishing another ELT season. Looks like the show was a big success.”
“Great box office. It means we don’t have to be slaves to the audience. We can do more daring stuff,” Penny said triumphantly.
“Like what?” I asked slowly.
“Walter thinks period pieces, classics. He’s writing a new show based on the Titanic,” Penny announced.
Yikes! Did Lola know about Walter’s ideas? “What about a nice romantic comedy? Something that will be an audience pleaser.”
Penny chuckled. “O’Dell, you slay me. Don’t you know by now that if the theater isn’t taking chances it stalemates.”
“You mean…stagnates?”
“Whatever.” She looked off. “Hey, you guys get down out of those trees.” She pushed her glasses. “Rookies.” She tromped away.
The music shifted, and Wilson took center stage in the midst of a group of actors. He proceeded to do a solo dance, then dropped to his knees and threw his body back and forth in a Haitian break dance. The cast hooted and cheered. Hello theater, good-bye Windjammer. Maybe Wilson did have a new career as a performer.
“I’m thrilled to see everyone relaxing, but I can’t wait until this night is over.” Lola collapsed into a folding chair, kicked off her sandals, and kneaded the soles of her feet.
“Been a hectic time,” I said.
“I’ll say. What with the weather, replacing Dale, and then his arrest…” Lola stopped.
“Did you know he was here tonight?”
Lola froze. “Here? In the park?”
“Angry and tipsy,” I said.
“Oh no.”
“Yeah. He lawyered up and got released on bail,” I said.
“Did you speak with him?” Lola asked.
“Oh yeah. He accused me of ratting him out to you. Then he got feisty so I called the police station. Suki said she’d alert Ralph.” We glanced at the food table where Ralph had segued from chicken to finger sandwiches. “No sight of Dale since then.”
Lola shook her head and replaced her shoes.
“Listen, I don’t think Dale murdered Ruby. And if he’s only convicted of charges related to scamming clients, well…that’s not so bad.”
“I suppose,” Lola said.
I quietly presented all of the evidence that Pauli had gathered, along with my instinctive analysis. Ruby’s threat to get revenge, the restraining order, her moving around after Otto’s death, the simultaneous movement of Otto Junior, and my belief that someone was coming after me via the car incidents. That same someone knew what I had found out. There were simply too many unanswered questions. “Charging Dale completely ignores Ruby’s past.”
“And what about Otto’s son?”
“Pauli hasn’t found any evidence of an Otto Heinlein, Junior living in New Jersey,” I said.
Lola was silent, staring at the group dancing and eating. “But you think he’s involved somehow?”
“I don’t know, but I’d sure like to know where he is.”
“Have you told all of this to Bill?” Lola asked.
“Most of it. I texted him to see what’s happening with the accident on the highway, but haven’t heard back.”
Walter gestured from the stage, and held up a glass of lemonade. “Lola dear, could you join me in a salute to our theatrical partners?” Now that Dale was out of the picture, Walter was more confident as far as Lola was concerned…too bad for Jocelyn. Her romantic possibilities were diminishing rapidly. And Walter was clueless.
Lola raised her voice. “In a minute.” She leaned into me. “Dodie, if what you are saying about the Metro fire is true, you are a sitting duck. You need to get security to stay by your side. Don’t walk off alone tonight.”
“I’ll be careful. You’d better get up there and help Walter ‘salute’!”
Lola sighed and trudged to the stage.
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
I looked behind me. It was Alex, snacking on cheese and crackers. “Yes. It’s so great to see everyone letting their hair down.”
“Especially the newer members of the theater. We veterans take openings and closings in stride.” He ate a piece of cheese.
“But it was a pretty extraordinary thing you did, taking Ruby’s place like that,” I said.
“Me? I’m just an ordinary musician. Ruby was the true star.”
“Yes, she was.” I lifted my soda can. “Here’s to the true star.”
Alex lifted his plate. We clinked.
Wilson grabbed my hand. “Do-dee! I told you I come back for you!”
I wasn’t in the mood to dance, but Wilson was dragging me to the stage where a bunch of actors and crew were twisting and whirling and shaking. As an excellent dancer, Wilson was a smooth partner, twirling me away from him, and then back to his substantial body, dipping me, lifting me in the air. My head was spinning! I landed on my feet and Wilson rotated me away again. I bumped into Pauli and Janice, so lost in each other that
neither one was visibly disturbed that I landed between them.
“Hey.” Pauli said.
“Oops! Sorry!” I shouted. The music was so loud conversation was nearly impossible. “Hi Janice. Having a good time?” I didn’t wait for an answer. Her beaming smile said it all.
“Well…you two have fun.” I stepped away—toward Wilson’s outstretched hand.
“Wait! Like…I found some things.” Pauli leaned into my face.
“Text me.”
“Got it,” he danced away with Janice.
My neck hairs were jumping, and it wasn’t the sassy music. I had to get to Bill and tell him about Otto Junior possibly stalking, and murdering, Ruby. He would resist my theory, but I had to make him listen.
The number ended. “Thanks for the exercise,” I said to Wilson.
“Do-dee! You are ze best partner.”
“Thanks, but I know better. You could be on Dancing with the Stars. The dancing chef!”
Wilson threw back his head and let out a belly laugh.
I moved to the outer edge of the party. If I could locate Ralph, I’d have him walk me to the BMW. My cell rang.
“Bill! I was about to text you again. I heard about the wreck down on the highway and—”
“Where are you? What’s all the noise?” He shouted into the phone.
“I’m at the cast party at the park. Where you’d be if you’d gone on tonight,” I said.
“I know, but duty called. Listen, can you cut out and get over here?”
It sounded urgent but it was also my opportunity to make a case—
“Dodie? You still there? Because I have something to tell you.”
Uh-oh…could that good news or bad news?
“It’s about the Metro.”
My heart thunked. “My Metro?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Where are you parked? Get someone to walk with you,” he urged.
Again I scanned the party. Things were hopping and music was blaring. I couldn’t find Ralph.
“Be there soon.” I clicked off.
I swung my bag onto my shoulder. I didn’t see Lola or Wilson either. They must have melted into the crowd of partiers. I was standing on the upward slope—behind the folding chairs—on the outer rim of the well-lit, portable, seating area. I looked toward the street. The BMW was a block away. I’d promised Lola and Bill that I wouldn’t walk alone—but what the heck.
Just in Time Page 24