Murder in the Theater (Cold Creek Book 4)

by Christa Nardi

  “I asked her about that – not quite that directly. Other than making her uncomfortable, she didn’t indicate Thompson had come on to her. Her response was avoidance. She moved away from him, stuck with friends, and so on. It’s possible he never had the chance. Unfortunately, she also said Dr. Patrissi accused her of having an affair with him, so if she told her belief to the prosecution, they may think they have a better motive.”

  Kim shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. Marty said any time he brings up Melodie, Isaac shuts down with a ‘Leave her out of this’ response. It doesn’t help that when Marty asked his sister about Melodie, she didn’t have a clue Isaac had a girl friend.”

  “Maybe Isaac is being protective – doesn’t want the police – or Marty – to focus on her as an alternative to him. From the students’ perspective, Isaac and Melodie are a couple, but did you bring every guy you dated in college home to meet your parents? Or meet the parents of each of them? In my family, that would shout ‘commitment’ loud and clear.”

  Kim chuckled. It took a few seconds before the blush when I mentioned her dating history faded. Then her mouth turned pouty. “You’ve got a point. Come to think of it, I haven’t met Marty’s sister yet or anyone else in his family. And he hasn’t met anyone in mine.”

  “Big issue in my family is I met Brett’s parents and sibs first. I think they were even upset I met Madison before them. Hopefully Thanksgiving will appease them. But the assumption is still of commitment.”

  “Have you and Brett discussed commitment?” I could tell she was staring at me.

  “No. And here we are!”

  I pulled into the first parking space and jumped out of the car to avoid any further discussion about commitment. I could see her car and it looked like new. Kim shook her head at me as if to say “we’ll come back to this” as we checked out her car. She went in to take care of her bill and I left.

  We met up again at the Grill and I diverted the conversation back to Isaac. I still felt I knew so little about him.

  “What does Isaac say about Thompson? About the theater? Did you get a chance to talk to him?”

  “Some. The first few days he was in jail I went with Marty to visit him. At first Isaac kept reassuring Marty, telling him it would all be okay. You know what shape Marty was in. Isaac told Marty he didn’t do it and he hasn’t changed his story. For those first few days, he believed the police would figure it all out and let him go.”

  “I guess he knows better by now. But what else did he say? It could be important and so far, we don’t have his perspective.” I exhaled in frustration. “Did he suggest anyone who might have killed Thompson?”

  “He didn’t. Isaac’s version of that night is what Marty told us. He’d called Thompson and they’d agreed to meet to discuss Isaac’s involvement in the play. Isaac knew no one had come forward to audition for the part and Thompson was stuck. He’d already spent a lot of money and tickets had been sold. Isaac was sure Thompson was worried someone – either the Board or his wife and in-laws – would pull the plug on the theater.”

  “He didn’t say who told him this?”

  “No. Anyway, they set up the time and he drove up to Altavista. When he got to the theater, the door was locked. Isaac said that was odd and he could see lights on in the back. Nobody answered when he knocked on the back door either and he tried to call Thompson but got no answer. So he went home. That’s his story and it hasn’t changed.”

  I shook my head and played with my food. “Kim, what else did he say about Thompson or the theater?”

  She finished chewing and took a drink. “He told us what everyone else did about Adelaide, how she started the community theater, and how wonderful she was. He mentioned her a lot in fact. Maybe she told him to call Thompson.”

  “That would make sense. We’ll have to ask Adelaide about it. I can call her tomorrow.” I rolled my hands and signaled her to continue.

  “No surprise, and no help to the defense, Isaac was pretty clear about his opinion of Thompson. Incompetent, power hungry, and negative to the bone. Isaac admitted he regularly got in arguments with the man, usually when Thompson berated someone else in the show. And that was apparently very often.”

  “The blow up when Thompson kicked him out? He told Isaac he didn’t portray the miserly side of Scrooge and needed to practice being more negative. Isaac let him have it – verbally – and suggested Thompson should play the part as his personality was a great match, except there’d be no redemption.”

  “So he didn’t think the ghost visits would benefit Thompson?”

  “That’s what Isaac says he meant. The district attorney is interpreting it as a veiled threat, and the way it was repeated by some, if not in the context of “A Christmas Carol,” it could sound that way.”

  “Sticking to the play context, did you ever figure out if there was a Marley for Thompson? Someone who worked with him and tried to get him to change his ways?”

  Kim shook her head. “Closest, as far as I could tell, would be Adelaide, however nothing seems to indicate she had any influence on him. Just the opposite, she was influenced by him to form the corporation and such.”

  I nodded agreement. Their relationship was old news.

  “Back to Isaac. How did he get involved last year and this year with the theater?”

  “Like we heard from the other students, the students in Fine Arts are told about auditions. Students could be involved every year, but usually students in the same year get together and go audition. If Thompson was as negative and critical as we’ve heard, I’d guess it’s a different group each year – no one really wanted to go a second round with Thompson.”

  “That goes along with what Miles and Melodie told us.”

  “Did Isaac mention Adelaide or Laura Patrissi or their relationship to Thompson?”

  “The early days, he strived to be positive about everyone. He didn’t have a negative word for anyone – well, anyone other than Thompson that is. Since then, he told Marty to look more closely at Dr. Patrissi, without giving Marty any other information. Isaac also mentioned some woman on the Board who argued with Thompson a lot, someone who wasn’t involved with the production side of the theater.”

  “Gracie Meem? She’s the only one we’ve talked to who fits the description.”

  “One other person might. Marty and I met with Iris Quicken. She’s a mousy accountant-type who serves as secretary of the board and handles the correspondence. She has her CPA, but Gracie is trustee and treasurer and controls the money. I don’t think Iris ever stepped foot in the theater except the day we were there interviewing.”

  “Hmmm. I wonder if she could be ‘irabacus’ who posted on Thompson’s blog? I need to check the blog again. Any chance you could call her and bring up the user name. It probably is no big deal, but I’d feel better if we identified all the people incited by his blogs. And if she never stepped foot in the theater, how would Isaac know if they argued unless it was online?”

  “That would make sense. We both know though there is less inhibition about verbal aggression online than in a face-to-face situation. We also both know inflammatory comments or bullying online can give way to physical aggression offline.” Kim nodded as she spoke.

  We used the few minutes while we waited for Rebekah with our check to write down questions for Marty to ask Isaac. We needed to move quickly. Jury selection was set for next week along with Isaac’s move to Lynchburg for trial on Monday.

  I dodged further questions about commitment from Kim. Back home, though, I continued to think about it. For sure, the family Thanksgiving shouted commitment. I was contemplating if I was ready for that step when my mother called. She’d figured out the menu and wanted me to figure out how to make it happen. Although they had a single unit, the kitchen in the unit was very small.

  We problem-solved the physical logistics some on the phone. We could move the furniture in the main room to fit a portable table and chairs for the six of us. Of course, she wa
nted all the traditional foods – turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, salad, plus breads and desserts. If Kaylie, Kevin, and I each brought some of the main foods, the need to cook anything would be minimal. The kitchen should be sufficient for us to arrange stuff and the microwave would work to heat anything we needed.

  Drained when I got off the phone, Charlie demanded and got my attention. We went for a quick run in the neighborhood so I could de-stress. Next thing I knew Brett called. I shared what news I had and my latest thoughts on suspects.

  “I can add a little Sher. Briana Dooley was Thompson’s administrative assistant, what we used to call a secretary. She is 30 years old, attractive, and has her hopes set on making it on Broadway or at least off-Broadway. From what she included in her statement, Ms. Dooley tolerated Thompson, his rudeness, and his advances to cultivate his connections. She volunteered in her statement that with his death, she had no reason to stay in Altavista. She has an alibi for his murder – she got a speeding ticket in Richmond that evening and the officers remember her. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. There are plenty of people with motive. Thing is, the evidence against any of them would be just as circumstantial if they can’t prove where they were. That leaves anyone who wasn’t with someone with a problem.”

  “True. But as far as we know, only Isaac knew Thompson would be there that night at that time.”

  “And how many people knew Thompson was often there at night?”

  Brett chuckled at my persistence, then sighed. “Touché! For Marty’s sake, I hope something comes up, or it will be up to the jury to make the call.”

  “I keep hoping something will break before it goes to jury. Admin here are on Grant’s case and want answers from me I don’t have. They’re ready to be judge and jury in advance. If it goes to trial, everyone will get stirred up and it likely won’t help anyone.”

  “In the meantime, how do you feel about company tomorrow? I have to go to North Shore.”

  “That would be great!”

  We chatted a while longer, mostly about Madison and the holidays. I fell asleep with positive thoughts and hopes for a quiet day.

  CHAPTER 20

  I’d managed to avoid Grant and the other administrators for a day, but my luck ran out. Grant stomped into my office as soon as I sat down.

  “Sheridan, what can you tell me? Cramer and Coulter’s offices are calling me non-stop. You need to handle this!” He huffed and struggled to get his breath.

  I took a deep breath. “Jim, I read the paper this morning. There isn’t even a mention of the murder, never mind who was arrested or that he’s a student here. Our justice system doesn’t work quickly. The investigation is in Altavista, not here.”

  Little did they know two faculty and several other students were also involved. I wasn’t going to tell Grant though. His face red, he shook his head and shuffled away obviously not satisfied with my answer. I threw up my hands in despair. There really wasn’t anything I could do.

  Coffee in hand, I made it through my class and even managed to get some work done. I was back on Thompson’s blog when Max came by.

  “Sheridan, some lady came by here Friday. She yelled your name and Kim’s. When she couldn’t find you, she started cursing and called you names. Is she a patient of yours?”

  “Max, what are you talking about? Start at the beginning, please. What did this person look like or want?”

  He bounced the way he does when he’s excited. “She … she waved her arms and yelled. She kept yelling your names.” His arms waved as he spoke.

  “What did she look like?”

  “I think she was ‘Goth’ – you know, dressed all in black, a black dress and boots. Black hair. That’s ‘Goth’ right?”

  “It could be, but not always. What else did she say? Did she talk to anyone?”

  “No, no. She ran through the halls and yelled your names. Like she was putting a curse on you. Maybe not ‘Goth’ Maybe a gypsy or a witch. Wait. She was too pretty to be a witch.” He looked serious for a second and added, “No not a gypsy either, she was all in black. Gypsies like bright colors.”

  I chose to ignore all the stereotypes he had thrown out. On a hunch, I pulled up Dr. Patrissi’s college website with her photo on my other screen.

  “Max, could this be the person?”

  “She’s not wearing black there. This person looked older. But there’s definitely a resemblance. Hey wait! That crazy woman is there! That’s her!”

  He pointed to a picture on the screen of Thompson’s blog. It was of Dr. Patrissi, Thompson and two others.

  “Who is that guy? Why is he dressed that way?”

  “That’s Will Thompson, Max. The man who was murdered.”

  Max’s jaw dropped and he waved his hands. “Maybe she is the one he wronged. No, they arrested a student for the murder. She must be crazed from her grief.” As he spoke his expression went from confused to pensive to satisfied while he alternated between shaking his head and nodding. He reminded me of a bobble doll.

  Although calm with his last statement, he looked at me with wide eyes. “Sheridan, grief or no, she was screaming your name and Kim’s. You better be careful.”

  “Thanks Max. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He walked away and I continued my search of the blog to see if I had missed anything. Each post was equally as negative and narcissistic as the previous one. Despite profane retorts to the post, no one had posted “I am the murderer” or threatened Thompson in any way. I shook myself out of the murder, collected my materials, and with a fresh coffee went to class. Sometimes it is nice to have the structure of a schedule.

  After class, Kim came by my office. She didn’t have anything new to report on the case but seemed off, preoccupied. I shared Max’s comments about Dr. Patrissi and her behavior. Kim’s smile drooped.

  “Kim, it’s nothing to worry about. I can call her later and see what she wanted.”

  “I agree. Not exactly professional though and she may be the killer.”

  Kim looked out my window and then back at me before she continued. “Marty is all wound up again. He and Mendelson met and Mendelson suggested a plea bargain. As if that wasn’t upsetting enough, Mendelson told him Isaac will be moved to Lynchburg on Friday, with jury selection to begin on Monday. Marty is beside himself. They have no defense other than Isaac’s statement and attacking the prosecution’s evidence as circumstantial.” The shake in her voice and clenched hands conveyed her tension.

  I took her hands and held them. “All we can hope for is a break before Monday. We have lots of questions and innuendo to go for reasonable doubt. I hope Isaac didn’t agree to a plea bargain. That should be the last resort.”

  “Heck, no. Marty blew up at Mendelson and told him not to even mention it to Isaac as yet. The thing is, Mendelson threatened to quit. Marty’s worried he might do that.”

  I nodded. Mendelson might have good reason given Marty’s behavior, but would not be good for Isaac.

  “Look, I’m hungry and pretty sick of Georg’s offerings. It’s a beautiful day outside, probably one of the last nice days to go for a walk. How about we get out of here, go for a walk, and get lunch at the cafeteria? If nothing else, our mood might improve.”

  “Okay. I need to be back within an hour though. I’ll grab my wallet.”

  Kim walked away, shoulders slumped. I pulled up Dr. Patrissi’s web page and used the office phone to call her. When she didn’t answer, I left a message I heard she was looking for me and the office number. I walked to Kim’s office to find she was with a student. She waved me off so I was on my own for a walk and lunch.

  Outside, a mild breeze hinted at the arrival of colder air. With the leaves off the trees, the sun was bright and I put on my sunglasses. I took several deep breaths of the crisp but not yet bone-chilling cold. Lost in thought, I didn’t notice someone come up behind me until he or she grabbed me from behind. Black flowing cape and hood, all I could register was that
the person was about my height with a mask that reminded me of Darth Vader.

  “You are too nosy. Stop asking questions before you get hurt.”

  The voice was muffled at least in part from the full mask and I couldn’t recognize it or even be sure if it was a man’s or woman’s voice. He or she didn’t wait for a response, but pushed me and then kicked me. I fell to the ground as my attacker walked away at a quick pace. The black cape was full length and the person had on black shoes with no heel, which might have been part of the costume.

  I righted myself and caught a glimpse of the person entering the arboretum. Too far ahead of me and not exactly a threat, I brushed off my clothes and continued to the cafeteria. I tried to recall anything about the person that might help identify them. The only smell I’d been aware of – a musty odor – was likely from the cape, not the person. Once they took off the costume and showered, the odor would be gone.

  With a bowl of minestrone and half a tuna sandwich, I made my way through the maze of tables to an empty one. The soup was hot and tasty, the sandwich a little soggy. I’d taken the last bite when Dr. Gorganz sat down.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  I pointed to a chair. “Not at all.”

  I took a deep breath and hoped he didn’t think me odd for doing so. No musty smell. I dropped my napkin and as I picked it up, I checked his shoes. Blue and gray running shoes.

  “Any good words on the case against Isaac? He didn’t do it you know.”

  “We know. All the evidence is circumstantial, but he’s the one in jail. Adelaide suggested you might play the part of Ebenezer?”

  Dr. Gorganz looked away and then sipped on his coffee before he answered. “I could. I might.”

  I waited, hoping for some elaboration. “But will you?”

  After a few seconds, he answered, “Only under duress. Only if Isaac can’t.