Now it was time for Act Three. Why did I have a feeling things weren’t going to remain this calm?
***
The sense of foreboding remained with me as I geared up for the final act. As The Shining Twins changed my costume, my phone buzzed again. I quickly pulled it out, hoping it was another text from Clarice. I wasn’t disappointed.
Jerome was kicked off Cascade Falls because he had a violent temper.
All that stuff he said about being an accountant was a lie. I wasn’t surprised. But was Jerome behind everything that was happening here?
He and Arie have a turbulent, on-again off-again relationship.
Was Jerome trying to ruin this play so Arie wouldn’t be successful? Maybe he’d secretly acted supportive, all the while wanting to humiliate her in public. Murder was a pretty drastic way to embarrass someone, though. Unless Scarlet’s death had been an accident. The thoughts collided inside my head until I didn’t know what to think.
I didn’t know if my theory was correct or not, but I knew something felt off.
“What are you up to?” I whispered to Jerome as we waited for our cue to start.
“What are you talking about?” He looked genuinely confused, just like any good actor might.
“I know who you are,” I hissed.
His eyes widened. “I’m Jerome.”
“People are going to hear you from the audience,” Sharen said.
Jerome and I stared at each other, doing a silent stand off.
“You’re on!” Karen pushed us both on stage.
I eyed Jerome before the act started, not breaking my gaze. I needed to show him I was confident, unafraid, and willing to go after him with everything in me. I wasn’t satisfied until Jerome looked away, something close to panic racing through his gaze first.
The play continued, feeling both wooden and electrified. I couldn’t describe it. The tension between us felt real. It was real. Yet, each of my movements felt weighed down as I anticipated what might happen.
I counted down the minutes until the end of the play. Finally, we reached the part where the Specter pulled out a gun, threatening anyone who came closer to me.
I stared at the gun. I remembered my middle school production of Oklahoma where someone had switched out the fake gun for a real one. As I gawked at the pistol in Jerome’s hands now, my entire body tensed.
What if there were real bullets in that firearm?
Jerome pointed it at Bennie. “Get away from her,” he ordered.
I held my breath as I gaped at the barrel.
The guy playing Bennie’s boyfriend stepped in front of her. “Over my dead body.”
Best original line ever. I mean, really, this play was a knock ‘em out of the park, one-of-a-kind masterpiece. I bit my tongue.
My thoughts were quickly distracted as Jerome raised the gun, his finger poised on the trigger.
Everything inside me was screaming that something was wrong. What if someone had swapped out the gun? How could I know for sure?
I knew a lot was riding on this play—right now, my life remained at the top of the list—but aside from safety concerns, I knew Paulette had staked everything on the success of this production.
If I was wrong, I could ruin things for Paulette. But if my suspicions were right and I didn’t do anything, I could die.
“No!” I yelled, some kind of primal instinct to survive bursting through me.
Before Jerome pulled the trigger, I tackled him. He fell to the ground, the gun still in his hands.
Please let it be loaded with blanks, I prayed. As we struggled, the barrel jabbed me in the stomach. If there was a real bullet in there … it could easily end my life.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Jerome muttered.
“The gun—”
Just then, it fired.
I held my breath.
I waited to feel pain but felt nothing.
As I heard gasps from the audience, I glanced over.
Money rained down from the ceiling.
Money? From the ceiling? Just what was going on?
“I didn’t know there was a real bullet. I promise,” Jerome whispered.
Based on the fear in his voice, he was telling the truth.
“Who else handled it?” I demanded.
“The twins gave it to me.”
Could the twins be behind this? I knew they were strange. That they had an offbeat sense of humor. But what motive would they have?
“This is the best play ever,” someone exclaimed from the audience.
“So realistic,” someone else said.
“Free money!” yet another voice said.
“Arie’s behind this. It has to be her,” Bennie whispered. “I bet she’s in this with Roberto.”
But why would Arie hide money in the eaves above the auditorium?
That’s how Scarlet had died, I realized. She’d been up on the catwalk because she knew there was money up there. When she’d said everything would be working itself out soon, it was because she thought she’d be coming into some money. For a young starving artist, having cash could seem like the answers to every problem.
I glanced down as a piece paper currency floated to my feet. It was a $100 bill.
Just like the ones Larissa and Peter had found.
Someone had been counterfeiting money.
They’d been using the printing press. The machine had sucked up too much power and that was why the lights kept flickering off.
That would explain the strange noises and the electrical problems.
And the man who died, Oliver Cartwright … maybe the person behind these crimes used a generator inside to avoid the power going off again. That could explain the death by carbon monoxide.
My pulse spiked.
The most important question remained: Who?
Arie? Roberto? Paulette? Jerome?
No. There was an even better suspect, someone who’d been right in front of my eyes the entire time. It was …
I jerked my head up, looking for the culprit.
Bennie crept toward the shadows and out of the spotlight, her eyes as wide as the construction buckets I used. What if her name wasn’t like Bennie from Benny and the Jets? What if it was Benjamin, as in money?
She worked the newspaper here. Probably knew about the printing press. She was about my height and, with a wig, she could pass for me. Plus, the paper I’d seen her drop—the one she claimed was for a scrapbook—would have been the perfect size and consistency for a sheet of counterfeit bills.
“It was you,” I whispered, even though I knew she couldn’t hear me.
She’d gotten the message without hearing a thing. In that moment, I saw the truth in her gaze. She was behind this.
I took several steps toward her, and, to her credit, she remained where she was.
“I’m on your side, Gabby,” she mumbled when I reached her.
I shook my head. “You gained my trust, only to use our conversations against me.”
“Don’t be crazy, Gabby. I would never do this.” She took a step backward, away from me.
“But why did you leave one-hundred dollar bills lying around the school? Would you have been that careless?” I shook my head again, facts colliding in my head. “Unless you left them out on purpose. Unless you wanted someone else to find them and try to use them for a purchase. It would almost be a test run for you and it would ensure you were less likely to be caught.”
“I’m really not that smart.” She let out a nervous laugh.
“You’re working with someone. You couldn’t do all this alone.”
“Gabby …” Her eyes implored me.
“How could you do this, Bennie?”
“I …” Bennie took off in a run toward the exit at the back of the stage.
I couldn’t let her get away. “Stop her!” I yelled.
I hiked up my habit and sprinted after her.
The Twins stood there, staring at me with that helpless expre
ssion on their faces.
Then, without visible collaboration, they held out their arms in unison and clotheslined Bennie.
Bennie’s feet flew in the air before she hit the ground.
“We call that our Wonder Twin move,” Sharen informed me.
I grinned. The Shining Twins? The Wonder Twins? I didn’t care who they were at the moment. “You two just saved the day. Make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.”
They nodded and grabbed her arms, even as she struggled against them. When Bennie looked at me, fire blazed in her eyes.
“I overheard you talking to Paulette one night, and I knew why you were here. If anyone was going to catch us, I knew it would be you. I tried everything to stop you. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”
At that moment, Charlie hurried onto the stage and took over. Thank goodness.
I wanted to think this mystery was done. But Bennie hadn’t been behind all of these acts herself. Who had helped her? She’d said us.
I peered out into the audience in time to see a man wearing all black casually walking toward the back door. I did a double take. I recognized the man’s gait. He’d worked as a tekkie and had access to the backstage …
I closed my eyes, trying to remember exactly what he looked like. His face flashed into mind. Now that I thought about it, the man had the same pert nose as Bennie did. Her brother maybe? My guess was that this was a family business. As he glanced back, I saw a tattoo snaking up his neck. It was him!
“Someone get him!” I shouted, pointing to the man in the back.
As soon as I said the words, Riley, Garrett and Chad rushed from their seats. They split up to corner the man. When he saw he was surrounded, he stopped. In one fluid motion, he tried to dart over the chairs—and the audience members—but a man stood and grabbed his collar first.
“You owe me money,” the man sneered.
He must be the man from the bar! I wasn’t totally educated in counterfeiting, but I did know that criminals often tried to sell fake money to other people. Had that man been a client?
As the police rushed into the room, I sat down on the stage. My job was done.
The audience broke into thunderous applause.
Had they all thought this was part of the play?
I decided to roll with it.
I stood up and took my bows.
CHAPTER 38
“The cast party wasn’t exactly supposed to be like this,” Paulette said, her gaze scanning the cafeteria.
“The good news is that I heard several people say how exciting the play was,” I told her.
“I have to second that, Gabby,” Charlie said, approaching us from outside. “That was the most exciting play I’ve ever seen. Good work.”
“Who was that man in the audience?” I asked her.
“Bennie just spilled everything. He was a potential client who wanted to buy the counterfeit money.”
“The other thing I’m not clear about is the man in the orchestra pit. How does he fit?”
“He was a friend of Bennie’s. After he died, Bennie’s brother—the man with the snake tattoo—panicked. He decided to put him in the orchestra pit in order to make it look like the school really was haunted.”
“They were desperate to make a buck, weren’t they?”
“Literally.” Her smile faded. “And no hard feelings between us, right? Like I said, I just followed the evidence.”
“I understand. However, you’re officially off any future invite lists. Sorry.” I winked.
She let out a soft chuckle. “Parker’s back at home, by the way.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Is he?”
Charlie nodded. “I guess your friend made him realize what he already had at home.” A hint of a smile tugged at her lips. “I’ve got to run. I’ll be in touch.”
I watched her walk away before Paulette turned back to me.
“None of this could have happened without you,” Paulette told me. “I knew you’d figure out who did this.”
“I almost didn’t.”
“But, the important thing is that you did. I can’t believe they were using that printing press the whole time to counterfeit money.”
I nodded. “It’s true. Bennie’s parents were con artists. She told me she ‘lost’ them four years ago, but what she really meant was that they’d been locked away after being found guilty for fraud, among other things. Bennie confessed to the police that she and her brother found those plates while cleaning out their parents’ house. Bennie remembered the press was at the school and knew exactly what they needed to print fake currency. They couldn’t move the press from the school—it was too heavy. So the only alternative was to use the press here. The problem was that you’d just purchased the property and started to use part of it for the play.”
“So, at first, they were just trying to scare us off?” Paulette blinked as she waited for my response.
I nodded. “That’s right. They were trying to make it look like the place was haunted so they could get rid of you. The electricity going out was just an unintentional perk of the whole operation. Bennie and her brother reworked the wiring to run power back to the old newspaper classroom. They accidentally tapped into the same circuit that the auditorium was on, though.”
“What about Scarlet?”
“Scarlet caught them in the act of storing the money up in the eaves of the building. It was the perfect place to keep the money because no one would ever think to check there. My guess is that Scarlet wanted part of the cut, and they weren’t willing to give it to her.”
“So they killed her?”
“Instead, they rigged the railing, knowing she’d try to get some money for herself. When she did, she fell. They changed her clothes to make it look reminiscent of The Wizard of Oz, which also helped to play into the ghost rumors. They were really quite clever when you think about it. Everything looked like it could have been accidents. There were enough doubts in everyone’s mind to keep people scared.”
“The yellow gasoline?”
“Sometimes people dye gas so they can tell it apart from other liquids they’re storing. Apparently, that’s what they did. The brother was a mechanic on the side. The fact that they brought in a generator that leaked a yellow trail of gas was just an eerie coincidence. The message on the mirror, however, wasn’t. They decided to play this up for all it was worth. As soon as they heard about the ghost—which Arie continually mentioned—they knew they had to use the story to their advantage.”
“Then they blamed you for everything that happened?”
“Bennie realized I was looking for answers. Because I kept disappearing to investigate, I was the perfect choice. I was acting suspiciously because I was undercover. They used scare tactics like locking Arie and I in the closet, leaving that torn photo in the room, putting a real bullet in the gun, the wet footprints leading to the bathroom, and sending the SWAT team to Garrett’s house. They had a whole bag of tricks and they weren’t afraid to use everything inside to try and spook us.”
“Speaking of Garrett, how did they know about him?”
I shrugged. “I guess the same way they knew I was a crime scene cleaner. Bennie must have started doing her research. There are some articles about me online. They used everything they found out about me against me. They even planted my business card—I’d guess Bennie took in that night I saw her stumbling from the band room—in the pocket of the man found in the orchestra pit.”
She sighed and shook her head. “I was naïve enough to use Bennie’s brother to fix your van. She told me he was a mechanic, so I figured I’d give him some business. Little did I know … ”
“At least it’s all over now. The Secret Service is coming in to claim all the money. The investigation is being turned over to them.” I studied my friend for a moment. “So, now that all of this is over, will you do another play?”
She hesitated a moment before nodding. “I’d like to.”
“If you do I have the perfect person to
help you.”
“Who’s that? Please don’t tell me Arie. She’s being investigated for plagiarism, fraud, blackmail, extortion. Maybe more. I overheard her moaning about something as some men in suits led her away.”
I wanted to say, “Poor Arie,” but I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it. “No, I wasn’t talking about Arie. I was talking about Donabell Bullock.”
She blanched. “You’re kidding?”
I shrugged. “Not really. I think she could use an outlet.”
“I’ll think about it then.”
I hesitated, but there was something else I had to mention to her. “Paulette, I’m worried about you. All the pills. The drinking.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “You knew about that?”
“I put it all together. Paulette, I’ve seen how substance abuse can ruin a person’s life. My father was essentially absent for most of my childhood because he drank so much. He was there physically, but mentally and emotionally, he was gone.” I squeezed her hand. “I don’t want to see that happen to you, Paulette. Life is too short to waste it.”
“I flushed all the pills two days ago, Gabby. I realized they were just making me feel numb, but they weren’t really addressing any of my issues. I was so stressed out about disappointing my father and having trouble coping.”
I placed my hand on her arm, feeling a speech of “After School Movie of the Week” proportions coming on. “I really think you’re going to find your place, Paulette. I know that life can be—”
“If it isn’t Gabby St. Claire.”
I snapped from my soliloquy and turned toward the deep voice. Paulette’s dad approached us, a huge, proud grin stretched across his face. “Mr. Zollin. So good to see you.”
He pumped my hand up and down. “You haven’t changed a bit. You’re still a firecracker. Still doing whatever you set your mind to.”
I glanced at Paulette and saw her face fall. “Really, Paulette was the one who made this all happen. I just did what she told me.”
Her eyes brightened. Mr. Zollin put an arm around her shoulders. “I’m always proud of my girl. Not so much of a girl anymore. A grown woman who’s more than capable of taking on responsibility.”
“You mean it, Daddy?” Her eyes were hopeful as she looked at her father. “Even after the dinner cruise fiasco?”
Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 08 - Foul Play Page 24