Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 08 - Foul Play

by Christy Barritt

  I didn’t waste any time engaging in small talk with Clarice. I couldn’t forget what Charlie had mentioned at Paulette’s house.

  “I heard you went on a date,” I started, keeping a watchful eye out for needles.

  She pulled her safety goggles on. “I started to tell you the other day but we got interrupted.”

  “Don’t forget to wear thick gloves,” I told her. “We have to be really careful with the scene.” The job sometimes required living on the edge.

  “Got it.”

  “So, how’d the date go?”

  Her face lit up. “It was great. I think he could be the one.”

  I blinked. I’d been trying to play it cool, but this was going to be much harder than I thought. “Wow. That serious, huh? You’ve got to be careful. You know that, right?”

  “You sound like my Aunt Sharon,” she muttered, her smile slipping. She stepped over the carpet. “What can I do?”

  “Start patching those walls. Everything you need is in that bucket.” I didn’t want her any closer to these needles than she had to be.

  She picked up a patch kit and stared at it a moment. I could tell she wasn’t in a work mindset.

  “So, who’s the lucky guy? Someone you met at the coffeehouse maybe?”

  I watched as she stiffened ever so slightly. “No, you were actually with me when I met him.”

  “That guy who hit on you at the crime scene last week?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “I know! That cute police officer who helped us move the furniture right after the scene was cleared at the shooting out in Chesapeake?”

  Clarice frowned. “It was actually … Parker.”

  I thought I’d have to fake my surprise and indignation, but it came back to me easily when I heard the words roll from her lips. “Parker? Have you lost your mind?” I dropped the carpet I’d just rolled, watching as it spread open again.

  She shrugged, scooping up some putty. Suddenly, she was very interested in working. “No, I haven’t lost my mind. Why would you ask that?”

  “You know he just had a baby. With another woman.”

  She shrugged again. “The baby is six months old now.”

  “But Parker was still with Charlie up until a month ago.”

  “Things were bad between them, though.” Offense stained her voice, but she paused for long enough to glance my way.

  I couldn’t see her eyes because of her goggles, but I felt the death rays shooting from them.

  “He’s older than you,” I reminded her.

  “That’s a plus. Guys my age are total duds.” She turned back to patching holes in the wall.

  I stopped what I was doing, walked over to Clarice, and laid a hand on her arm. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but—”

  She shrugged my hand off. “Then don’t. Don’t tell me what to do.”

  I pulled back. Clarice had never spoken to me like that before. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “Worry about yourself, Gabby. Certainly you have enough going on in your own life that you don’t have to butt into mine.” Derision dripped from her words.

  “That’s not fair, Clarice. I know Parker. I know what he’s like.”

  “He’s perfectly charming. The first time we met, he gave me advice on getting a degree in criminal justice. We realized there was something there.”

  Frustration built inside me. Why couldn’t I get through to her? “Clarice, he’s no good.”

  “Says the woman who’s still obsessed with a man who has no intentions of moving back to this area.”

  My lips gaped open. “I’ve moved on, thank you.”

  “You certainly don’t act like it.” She put the putty down. “You know what, I think I’m calling in sick today. I’m just not feeling this.”

  “Clarice …”

  “Parker warned me that you’d be judgmental.”

  I could only imagine how that conversation had gone. “I just want what’s best for you.”

  “That’s for me to determine.”

  And with that, she left.

  I rested my forehead against the wall, trying to figure out how I could have made that go better. Trying to think of what I should have said as opposed to what I did say.

  I had no idea. Literally. No idea.

  ***

  “Tonight, you need to practice being on the wire,” Paulette said as I stood center stage during rehearsal.

  I tugged at the harness I’d struggled to both get on and adjust. With a final pull at one of the belts around my hip, I stole a glance at Mrs. Baker, hoping she’d object to this unnecessary torture. She shrugged.

  “Don’t worry. We had everything checked out today,” Paulette continued. “It’s safe. Sharen and Karen filled in for you.”

  Sharen and Karen together probably didn’t weigh as much as an empty sack of flour.

  The other cast members took steps back, their body language indicating that they were glad it was me and not them. I couldn’t blame them.

  I cleared my throat. “How long ago did you check the wire?” All it would take was one minute of the stage being out of sight for someone to sabotage something.

  “Just about an hour ago,” Mrs. Baker said. “How’s the harness feel?”

  I tugged at it, dread filling my stomach. “It feels good.”

  “You remember the instructions we gave you?” Mrs. Baker continued.

  I nodded and mentally ran through the safety precautions. Don’t jerk around. No horse play. Nothing unexpected. “I got it.”

  “Let’s give it a whirl then.” Mrs. Baker patted my shoulder.

  This was just … awesome.

  This was the final scene, where the Specter tried to take Elsa McGovernness with him to live in the secret confines of the theater because, of course, he’d fallen in love with her. Even though he was really a person and not a phantom, for some reason we still had to ascend into the ceiling—to make it more dramatic, I guessed.

  I was all harnessed up, but my throat burned and my neck muscles were knit tighter than my grandmother’s old afghan blankets. I was willing to take a lot of risks and do a lot of things to solve a mystery. But this one in particular had me seeing my life ending painfully.

  “Hold Jerome’s hand,” Mrs. Baker instructed.

  Arie smiled up at me from her safe little seat in the audience. “Break a leg.”

  I scowled.

  “What? That means good luck.”

  “Hm hm,” I muttered.

  Bennie leaned closer. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “There was only one glitch when we tested it on Sharen and Karen. Everything’s fine now.”

  The blood drained from my face.

  Before I could argue anymore, I was hoisted into the air. The sudden motion caused a rush of air to leave my lungs. I gripped Jerome’s hand. At least if my wire had been cut, maybe his hadn’t and I could hold on to him for dear life.

  Or I could pull us both to our deaths.

  “Don’t forget, as they hoist you, you’ve got to sing,” Mrs. Baker reminded.

  My mind went blank. What were the words?

  I remembered finding Scarlet below the catwalk. Was that how I’d look when I died? Would someone even add some striped, colorful socks?

  Did Scarlet feel any fear before she died? Did she have a pit in her stomach like I did now?

  I glanced at the stage below. It looked so far away.

  Who was operating the rig on this anyway? Did they know what they were doing? One wrong move and the whole line could give. I could end up worse than Scarlet. I could end up splattered on the stage floor, like some kind of thespian road kill.

  Rose and I could haunt this place together.

  I shook my head. Everyone stared at me, waiting for me to begin. I could hardly breathe.

  “Gabby?” Mrs. Baker asked. “Is everything okay?”

  “It’s okay.” My voice squeaked out, pitched higher than a cartoon mouse’s. />
  “It’s going to be just fine,” Jerome whispered. “I’ve done this a million times before. I only got hurt once.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

  “Gabby?” Mrs. Baker asked again.

  Just then, the line gave a little, sending me free falling. I screamed the girliest scream that had ever left my lips.

  The line caught and I jerked to a halt mid-air.

  “Sorry about that! It was a little glitch,” one of the stagehands called from somewhere out of sight. “Everything’s good now.”

  “Do you want to get down?” Mrs. Baker asked. A worry wrinkle snaked between her eyebrows.

  Everyone stared at me.

  I wanted to scream, Of course I want to get down. Are you crazy? I don’t want to die this way!

  As panic threatened to overtake me, I glanced over at Mrs. Baker’s daughter Larissa. She sat there on the front row, watching me with her eyes wide.

  I remembered sitting in that very place, watching the lead of Oklahoma in awe. I pulled myself together, for the sake of the 13 year old me who’d wanted to star in a play more than anything.

  “No, I’ve got this,” I finally said.

  Dear Lord, please help me survive this.

  Shaky at first, eventually my lines flowed out.

  I kept waiting for the wire to fray. Remarkably, it didn’t. It held me, even as we began to sway back and forth.

  The ending was going to be magical—if no one died in the process.

  As I sang out the last line, the cast broke out into applause. My cheeks flushed.

  “That was wonderful you two. You could really feel the fear and anxiety Elsa felt as she was faced with the possibility of leaving everything familiar behind,” Mrs. Baker said.

  That’s because my fear and anxiety are real, no acting involved.

  I cleared my throat as the wire lowered me back to the stage. I’d never been so glad to feel something solid under my feet. But I also had a rush of adrenaline as I realized that I’d just conquered a big fear of mine. At the moment, I felt like I could do anything.

  “Let’s take a break and then we need to run through all of this again. Meet me back on stage in five,” Mrs. Baker said.

  As the rest of the cast dispersed, Mrs. Baker came on stage. “You’re doing a really fantastic job, Gabby. Especially for someone who had to fill in at the last minute. I always knew you were a natural.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Baker.”

  “And I’ve been meaning to tell you that the guy of yours that you brought by—Garrett, right?”

  I nodded.

  “He seems like a keeper. He looked at you like you could do no wrong.”

  “We’re not actually together. Or, we’re taking it slow, I guess I should say.” I shrugged. “I was engaged to someone else up until a few months ago. But now he’s moved on with his life. I guess I need to move on as well.”

  “You know what Nathanial Hawthorne said, don’t you?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t.”

  “He said, ‘The past lies upon the present like a giant’s dead body.’”

  “There’s wisdom in that quote.” In other words, I couldn’t let the past conquer me and hold me back. That’s exactly what I’d been doing. I’d have to chew more on those words later.

  As the cast gathered, I noticed Paulette slipping backstage. Interesting. Where was she going?

  I snuck backstage but saw no one. Where had she gone?

  I moved quietly through the dark space, my gaze scanning my surroundings.

  Strange. It was like Paulette had never been back here.

  I moved toward the dressing rooms. Slowly, I pushed the first door open. It was dark inside. Whose room was this again? I was pretty sure four other cast members shared this space. I flicked the light on.

  Everything appeared normal.

  I went to the next room, reminding myself to move quickly. I didn’t want people to get suspicious that I was gone. This was Jerome’s dressing room, if I remembered correctly.

  I turned the lights on and examined the space.

  There was no Paulette.

  But there in the corner were some tools—nuts, bolts, wrenches, a hammer.

  I stepped closer, wanting a better look.

  That’s when I heard a voice behind me. “What are you doing here?”

  I swirled around. Arie stared at me with accusation in her eyes.

  CHAPTER 25

  “I thought I saw someone come in here,” I muttered. “I was just making sure everything was okay, that no one was up to any mischief.”

  “How do we know that you’re not up to any mischief?” Arie stepped closer. “I’m beginning to think it’s more than a coincidence that you were picked to fill in for Scarlet’s role. You just happened to be at the right place at the right time, huh?”

  I swallowed hard. “That’s right. Lucky me.”

  “There’s something you’re not telling us.”

  I shrugged. “Everyone has dreams and wants a better life. I thought maybe I could find mine with the theater. You can’t blame me for that.” As the words poured from my mouth, I pondered the truth in them.

  I guess everyone did want something a little more for their future. That’s why we all worked hard and pushed ourselves to do better. I could do better than the position I was in right now in my life.

  “I researched you, you know.” Something gleamed in her eyes.

  “Did you?” I tried to keep the tremble from my voice.

  “I know about your past.”

  So much for being undercover. “It’s not what you think—”

  “You and Paulette were friends. That’s how you got this role.”

  My heart slowed for a minute. “You’re right. We do go way back. I’m sorry we weren’t upfront with you.”

  “Is everything okay back here?” Paulette appeared with a clipboard in her hands.

  “I’m fine,” I started. “I was just making sure everything was okay here when Arie barged in and started making accusations.”

  “I’m just concerned because of everything that’s been going on lately. I’m sure you can understand.” Arie glared at me.

  The noise from the stage area suddenly disappeared. Everyone was probably trying to eavesdrop. Nosy little actors.

  Great. I had an audience at a time when I didn’t need one.

  “Enough of the bickering. We’ve got to run through this again and none of us want to be here all night,” Paulette said.

  Begrudgingly, I left the backstage area and joined the rest of the cast on stage. Everyone looked at the three of us as if we’d been sent to the principal’s office.

  “Everyone in place,” Mrs. Baker instructed.

  I took my place center stage. I noticed Amos had come to pick up Larissa. He waved my way. Unfortunately, the girl had been here to witness the not so flattering moment. My hopes of being a good role model for a member of the younger generation quickly faded.

  Acts One and Two went smoothly. I was able to put everything out of my mind and focus on my performance. At the beginning of Act Three, I had to climb some scaffolding that represented a roof scape (hence the song, “Climb Every Steeple, Scale Every Roof”) with a row of houses below.

  I’d just started the number when I glanced down and saw one of the huge screws at the end of the roof was a good inch from being completely twisted into the wood. Something clicked in my head.

  Those nuts and bolts in Jerome’s dressing room: Could they have been used to hold this part of the set together?

  Before I could think about it, the bottom of the stage collapsed—me with it.

  ***

  I rubbed my hind side. I’d walked away from the accident with a few bruises and a pounding headache. That was the good news.

  The bad news was that the set was a crumpled mess behind me. It could be fixed—maybe. The scaffolding had definitely been sabotaged, and Mrs. Baker had called the police.

  Charlie stood o
n the stage right now, addressing the rest of the cast as if she were an award-winning actress. She paced the glossy wood, a hand on her hip by her gun. Her gaze was intense. The only thing that ruined her tough girl image was the spit up on her shoulder.

  “Someone is trying to harm both this production and the people involved,” she said. “I want to know who. I want to know why.”

  No one said anything for a moment.

  Charlie looked back at the cast. “Does anyone know who might have messed with the set?”

  “We used it for our first run through and it was just fine,” Bennie said.

  “Did anyone see someone messing with it between practices?” Charlie asked.

  I braced myself for what I knew was inevitable.

  “Gabby was backstage doing something when I walked back there,” Arie barked.

  Everyone’s eyes fell on me.

  I raised my hands in defense. “I thought I saw someone go back there. I was just checking things out. Besides, why would I rig part of the set to hurt myself?”

  “What were you doing back there, Arie?” Bennie asked, crossing her arms and sending an accusing look to the has-been starlet.

  Her cheeks reddened. “I was doing the same. I was making sure everything was okay since someone is determined to ruin my play.”

  “Someone’s determined to ruin something,” Charlie muttered. “Where was the scaffolding prior to Act Three?”

  “It was backstage,” Mrs. Baker told her. “We didn’t bring it in until Act Three.”

  “Maybe it was the ghost,” Bennie said. “Besides, a house almost landed on Gabby. Does no one else see the irony in this?”

  “Are you saying I’m like the Wicked Witch who dies in The Wizard of Oz?” I asked. But it was true. A house had almost landed on me. Coincidence? I couldn’t be sure.

  “Ghost or no ghost, whoever is behind these acts needs to be brought to justice. Someone here knows something. We’re going to get to the bottom of this. I promise you that,” the detective said, sounding all Charlie’s Angels tough. Good for her.

  “What should I do? Should I cancel this performance?” Paulette asked, tears glimmering in her eyes.