Murder Takes Center Stage

by Tracy D. Comstock

  Emily headed by to her place, trying to not let her misgivings about tonight's plan overwhelm her and send her scrambling to back out. This was their best chance to get Annabeth and Jeweliah to confess. She quickly changed into an outfit more befitting a girls' night than a day in front of the classroom, fussed with her hair some, and did a smoky eye thing with her makeup, hoping to impress Tad while she was at it.

  After a quick bite to eat, she grabbed an extra-large bottle of water to compensate for her earlier Dr. Pepper indulgence and was just heading out the door when she saw Helen climbing into her Ford Explorer. Helen waved and Emily called, "I guess Tad got hold of you?"

  "He did, and I'm happy to help. I'm relieved that you haven't yet called the police in. I think Jeweliah is a very troubled child, and I know that if we can get her to confess to us first, things will go much better for her because we can be sure of getting her help." Tears glistened in the counselor's eyes. "I hate that one of our students is going through something so terrible. I really didn't think Annabeth could be involved in such devious acts, but it's true that she has changed a lot since high school. Still, I really liked her. Admired her, even."

  "I know the feeling," Emily agreed. "But bitterness can do terrible things to people, as you well know." After being held captive by a mom desperate to keep her son, Helen had seen firsthand the trauma caused by holding on to bitterness and rage. "Are you heading to rehearsal now?"

  "Actually, Sapphira herself called me right after I got off the phone with Tad and asked to meet with me while Jeweliah was at rehearsal. I'm hopeful I can get some real information out of her, and I find it reassuring that she seems to be thinking of her daughter first for once."

  "That will definitely make it easier for Tad to talk to Jeweliah."

  "Yes, I even suggested that Tad bring Jeweliah home while I was talking to Sapphira, and she agreed. But you need to be careful, Emily. I don't want to be the one doing the rescuing this time."

  "I promise I won't be alone. Gabby and Destiny will be with me the whole time, as will Violet."

  "Still, watch your back, okay?" Helen headed in one direction, while Emily went the opposite way towards rehearsals. Once again, prickles between her shoulder blades plagued her, but she tried to shrug them off, assured that their plan was solid and they were doing the right thing. By the time this night came to a close, Bodley's murderers would be behind bars or else seeking much-needed help. One way or the other, it would all end tonight.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Tad and Gabby were waiting for her just inside the doors to the Encore Playhouse. They hunkered down to go over the last-minute changes to Helen's part in the plan and to decide on some leading questions that Tad could ask Jeweliah. By the time the other crew members began to arrive, Emily had managed, for the most part anyway, to calm her nerves and turn her focus toward getting through their final rehearsal.

  She helped Destiny go through the costumes with Ms. Lowe, who was on hand for any last-minute alterations. Gabby and Albert helped Mr. Greenbalm set up the area where he would be selling his pastries at the next night's performance. Tad, Susan, and Ray double-checked props, lighting, and sound effects. Annabeth had just put the students in position for a run through of the first scene when Tad came up to inform them that the candlestick was missing. "I locked the props up myself last time," Destiny protested. "How did this happen?"

  "Oh, it was here when we first handed them out," Tad told her. "Lyndsey says she laid it down on a table backstage, and now it's gone."

  "We have to move forward with rehearsal. We have too much to go over tonight to waste time looking for it. Surely it was just accidentally misplaced this time. Don't you think?" Emily asked the others.

  "I'm positive that's what happened," Destiny agreed, "but let's keep our eyes peeled."

  Not saying anything to anyone else, they moved on with rehearsals. Emily spent the entire time running from one spot to another to make sure that everything else was in place, that the sound effects and accompanying music they had decided on played at the right times, that the foyer and lobby area were set up for both ticket and pastry sales, and that the students could be heard from all areas of the auditorium.

  "The costumes look spectacular," she told Ms. Lowe and her mom as they all sat in a back row. "You guys did some amazing work."

  "It was nice to help with a school production again," Ms. Lowe told her sincerely. "I hope you'll let me be involved with the next play you put together."

  "I will definitely pass your name along," Emily assured her. "But I hope that this is the last time I'm in charge!"

  "This has definitely been one for the books," Susan agreed. "I, for one, will be glad when it's over."

  "You're preaching to the choir," Emily assured her mom. She knew that if her parents caught wind of her plans for after rehearsal, they would insist on being involved, but she didn't want to spook Jeweliah or Annabeth by telling more people. This was one of those times where she would have to ask for forgiveness after the fact.

  Destiny and Annabeth were kept busy calming nerves and slowing down line delivery, but for the most part, the entire play came off without any major glitches, other than the missing candlestick. As the final act neared its conclusion, Gabby sidled up and whispered in Emily's ear, "I talked with Albert. He said that Annabeth was lurking around that table earlier. Do you think she might have that candlestick stashed somewhere?"

  "I guess it's possible," Emily said. "But don't worry. I think we have safety in numbers."

  "That's what Colonel Mustard said," Gabby moaned. "Let's be extra careful. Sure you don't want to call the police?"

  "And tell them what?" Emily countered.

  "True. All we have are suppositions. Let's pray that we can get a confession out of this. And when we do," she added," you and I are on for a real girls' night out."

  "Definitely," Emily agreed fervently.

  After she, Destiny, and Annabeth delivered a final pep talk to the students, they began filtering out. Soon, only Tad, Jeweliah, Destiny, Annabeth, Violet, Gabby, and Emily were left in the large auditorium. Tad explained to Jeweliah that he was her ride home, and she agreed easily enough. She had flubbed a few of her lines and seemed extremely tense all evening. The sooner she unburdened herself to Tad, the sooner they could get her help. But would she talk to Tad? With a quick hug and a whispered word of encouragement for Tad, the two left.

  Gabby took Violet in her car and left right behind them. Annabeth and Destiny were driving to the restaurant together, since Emily had her own car. She sent the others ahead, wanting to check the prop cabinet one more time and to do a quick search for the missing candlestick. She wasn't worried about being alone as she knew where everyone else was. Still, she made sure her phone was secure in her pocket and that the front doors were locked before she went backstage.

  A quick search of the tables in the backstage area and the floor underneath did not turn up the candlestick. The prop cabinet was secure, but now she would have to find a replacement candlestick before tomorrow's production. She thought of what Albert had told both her and Tad—and now Gabby—about Annabeth being the last one in the prop room and then in the area where the candlestick went missing tonight. This had to be further proof that she was behind all of this, right?

  As she went about straightening the costumes that the students were to have hung up before leaving, she ran through the questions she and Gabby had brainstormed to help draw Annabeth out concerning her feelings about Bodley. They were certain that once they told her that Jeweliah had confessed to Tad—and please, God, let that be what was happening right now—that Annabeth would break down and admit to being the mastermind behind everything. Now she just had to wait for Tad's text letting her know that the confession had been made by Jeweliah. She sent up another fervent prayer that Jeweliah would trust Tad enough to finally let go of this crushing guilt that was clearly weighing her down.

  Stacking a last shoe in place, she began to wonder
if she should have let Destiny in on their plan for getting a confession from Annabeth. Although those two were close and it concerned her that Destiny might give a heads up to Annabeth, she now worried that Destiny would be extremely upset with her when she realized she had been dragged into a plot to trap her friend. And Violet might be upset with them too. Still, she had to work every day with Destiny. Should she send her a text or call her? Give her at least a small heads up?

  Before she could decide, a sound in the hallway had her freezing in her tracks. But everyone had left, and she had locked the front doors. The only other person that had a key was Destiny. Did Annabeth overpower Destiny and take her keys? She looked around frantically for something to defend herself with, but there was no way she could get the prop cabinet unlocked in time. She reached for her phone to call for backup, but she hadn't had time to dial a single number before a figure stepped through the door, backlit by the hallway light.

  "It's me," Destiny said quietly, and Emily let out a huge sigh of relief.

  "Oh, thank goodness," Emily exclaimed. "I thought that maybe…" She trailed off as she realized she couldn't explain her fear of Annabeth without telling Destiny about their plan for tonight. But the more she thought about it, she had left Destiny alone with Annabeth and possibly put her in danger. She owed Destiny an explanation.

  Taking a deep breath, Emily started in. "Destiny, look, I need to tell you something important, and I don't want you to get upset. Okay?"

  "Okay," Destiny said slowly, adjusting the purse strap on her shoulder and looking doubtful.

  "I know I was taking forever, but I was trying to decide whether to say something to you or not. Where's Annabeth?" she asked suddenly, wondering if she should be worried about Annabeth walking in on their conversation.

  "She's waiting in the car. She said she had a few calls to make, so I came in to check on what was holding you up. I'm sure Gabby and Violet have a table secured for us by now."

  "Probably, but I think it's important I tell you this before we leave. You see, tonight isn't only a girls' night out. We sent Tad to take Jeweliah home so that we could get a confession out of Bodley's murderer tonight. You see, we've figured it out. We know who was behind all of this."

  She didn't know what reaction she was looking for from Destiny, but it definitely wasn't for her to slam the door to the prop room and look so angry. Did she already suspect Annabeth? Was she willing to defend her, even knowing she had committed cold-blooded murder?

  "I figured you had it all worked out by now. That's how you work, isn't it? Constantly sticking your nose into other people's business?" Destiny glared at her, a hatred in her eyes that Emily had never seen before.

  "Well, I mean, yeah, we think we have it all figured out. But I don't think I am known for sticking my nose in other people's business." Emily was both confused and irritated at Destiny's attitude. They weren't talking about stealing someone's pencil in grade school here—they were talking about first-degree, premeditated murder. This was not a time to stay blindly loyal to one's friend, especially as they hadn't been close friends all that long. Or had they?

  "Did you know Annabeth before coming here?" Emily asked her. Destiny was still standing with her back to the door, rummaging in her purse. She was afraid Destiny would try to call Annabeth and warn her that the jig was up. She was now questioning whether they had it all figured out after all. Had Destiny been a partner to Annabeth and Jeweliah's plans?

  "No, I never laid eyes on Annabeth before moving to this godforsaken town.," Destiny spat at her, still not looking up from her purse, nor moving from in front of the door.

  "Look, Destiny, you have to be reasonable here. You haven't even been friends with Annabeth that long."

  "What does that have to do with anything?" Destiny asked, finally looking Emily straight in the eye. The pure venom that was reflected there finally caused Emily to take a step back.

  And then she heard that same sound that had brought chills to her scalp the other night when she had been locked in this very same room—a low, evil chuckle. Stupidly, she looked around for the old dummy that she had originally thought was laughing at her. But, of course, the police had taken the dummy off for testing for fingerprints. No, the laugh was coming from Destiny. She had obviously been the one to lock her in this room before. Was she a stooge, blindly following Annabeth's orders, or did she have some kind of vested interest in getting rid of Bodley that Emily didn't know about?

  "Is this about Bodley?" Emily asked, feeling truly frightened for the first time since Destiny had walked in the room. She clutched the phone in her hand tighter, hating to draw attention to the fact that it was in her hand. But Destiny noticed the movement.

  "Not as smart as you thought you were, huh?" Destiny said, laughing again. "And I'll take that phone, thank you very much."

  Although she was scared, especially since Annabeth might come bursting in at any moment, there was no way she was backing down from Destiny. She was smaller than Emily in stature. Although they were close to the same height. Still, with Destiny's hurt ankle, she should have no trouble getting past her and out the door. If she could lock herself in a bathroom, she could call for help. She took a step toward Destiny, prepared to fight her way out of there if necessary, but before she could shove her phone in her pocket, Destiny yanked something from her purse and swung it at Emily's head.

  It was the candlestick! Emily ducked just in time to prevent being clocked in the temple, but the candlestick, hefty enough to cause some damage even though it was a prop, connected with her phone, sending it flying across the room, the screen shattering on impact. The thought of having to replace her phone yet again filled Emily with almost as much rage as being locked in a room with a candlestick-wielding maniac who had some ridiculous amount of loyalty to her friend.

  "I can't believe you'd stand by Annabeth, even after knowing what she's done." Her voice was shaking, but she wasn't sure if it was from fear or anger.

  "Annabeth? You don't get it, do you? Annabeth may have hated Bodley, and for good reason, if you ask me, but she didn't kill him."

  And finally, like the clueless heroine in some horror movie, the truth finally dawned on Emily, a moment too late. "So you…?" It seemed incomprehensible. This sweet lady she had worked with all year was the one who had murdered Bodley? Why?

  "Yep, I killed him," Destiny confirmed smugly. "And now I'm going to kill you."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Emily stared at the candlestick in Destiny's hand, willing her brain to make sense of what was happening. Destiny had killed Bodley. Why? Why would this young woman, who had never lived in Ellington prior to this school year, want to kill the local boy made good? Was it all for Annabeth's sake? And as for killing her? Destiny was her friend. She trusted Destiny. This could not be happening.

  "I love watching you try to make sense out of this all." Destiny gave that low, evil laugh again, and Emily felt sick to her stomach.

  "Were you behind everything? The knife that cut Bodley? The food poisoning? All of it?"

  Destiny shrugged as if all those incidents were no big deal. "Yeah, but unfortunately, things didn't work out like I'd planned. I'd hoped that Jeweliah would be the one cut by the knife, and the poisoned pastry was meant for Bodley alone. I didn't mean for Violet to get sick. But as for who shot Bodley? I did, with the revolver, on the stage." She laughed loud and long this time, and somehow, that bold laugh was even more chilling than the softer chuckle.

  "Like you'd planned?" Emily asked, stuck on the first part of Destiny's declaration. "Don't you mean like Annabeth planned? And why would you want Jeweliah to be harmed? Wasn't she in on this with you?"

  "This has nothing to do with Annabeth!" Destiny screamed, brandishing the candlestick as if she was going to strike Emily for not understanding. "This all has to do with Lance."

  "Lance? Who the heck is Lance?" Emily asked, truly bewildered. "And where's Annabeth really? Did you hurt her too?" Now that she knew Annabeth was
definitely not the mastermind behind all of this, she was worried for her safety and doubly thankful that Jeweliah was safe with Tad.

  "I already told you, Annabeth had several calls to make about a job opportunity. She'll be busy for a little while, but still, we better get this show on the road. I don't want her coming looking for us and messing things up. How else can I frame her?"

  "How do you plan to do that?" Emily asked, once again casting her eyes around the room, searching for something to use as a weapon.

  "Knowing you, you've told not only Gabby, Tad, and Helen but probably your parents and half the town about your suspicions that Annabeth is behind all this. I even thought you suspected Jeweliah at one point, but surely you aren't that dumb." Emily felt her cheeks burn red, and Destiny laughed yet again. "Oh, you thought they were in this together? Priceless. Maybe I can work that to my advantage. You see, once I've killed you, I'll take this candlestick with me and make sure Annabeth not only touches it but takes it to her home to be returned at rehearsals tomorrow night. Thanks to you deciding she's the guilty party and my anonymous tip to the police that she has the murder weapon, she'll be under arrest. Albert will tell the police how Annabeth was always the one messing with the props."

  "Because that's what you told him," Emily realized.

  "Of course. The poor idiot thinks I'm really falling for him. As if," she scoffed.

  Emily's heart went out to the "poor idiot," but at the moment, she had more pressing concerns—like figuring out how to survive this. "They'll figure out the truth, Destiny. We may be a small town, but our detectives are not exactly Barney Fifes."

  "No, they won't figure me for the murderer. That's what makes this so perfect. I didn't know Bodley before moving here. I have absolutely no ties to him outside of the play. No one will ever suspect me."