“I know, doesn’t it?” Jules said, looking around himself, hand on his hip. “I was worried at first, but the community really bonded together for the reopening. And it did allow me to make some changes I’d been wanting to do for years.”
I took a quick walk around the room, mouth watering in approval. I picked up a bag of chocolate covered cherries and carried them to the counter. “I think I could use these for tonight.”
“Oh?” Jules asked, ringing up the sale—applying a huge discount as he did.
“I agreed to fill in for a sick girl in the local Christmas play,” I said. “I think I’m in way over my head.”
“Nonsense,” Jules said. “You’ll be fantastic.”
“If you can deal with Lawrence Jackson,” Lance put in.
“I didn’t know you knew him,” I said, surprised. “I’ve only been at one practice, but he does seem a little tough on everyone.”
“He’s a slave driver,” Jules said with a shake of his head. “I used to take part in the plays a good, I don’t know, five or six years ago. I couldn’t handle Lawrence yelling at us all the time. He made more than one person go home crying in my time, and from what I hear, he’s the same way now, if not worse.”
“Really?” I said. I’d felt like crying myself, but that had little to do with Lawrence and a lot to do with my poor, battered body.
“There was this one girl, Mandy Ortega. He used to berate her all the time, just because she had trouble keeping her weight down.”
“As if that even matters,” Lance grumped.
“That’s who I’m replacing,” I said.
“She’s probably had enough by now,” Jules said. “I’m surprised she’s lasted this long without popping him in the nose. If he would have talked to me like that, I know I would have.”
Speaking of popping, I opened my bag of chocolate-covered cherries and popped one into my mouth. It was absolute bliss.
“I’m not sure I’m going to make it through this,” I told them once I swallowed. “It’s a musical, which no one bothered to tell me before I signed up, by the way. I feel like someone has run me over with a very large truck, multiple times.” I rubbed at my back, which was smarting just thinking about it.
“You’ll be fine,” Jules said. “Be sure to hydrate often. And if you aren’t taking any vitamins, I’d suggest starting to do so now.”
“And get lots of sleep,” Lance added.
“Thanks,” I said, chewing on another cherry. “I’d better get going. Practice starts soon and from what everyone keeps telling me, the director doesn’t like it when you’re late.”
“Keep with it,” Jules said as I headed for the door. “You’ll be thankful you did.”
“I hope so,” I said, before waving and leaving Phantastic Candies. I felt much better with candy in hand, yet I had a feeling it wasn’t going to do me much good onstage.
I drove to practice and pulled into a lot that was a lot fuller than I’d expected at this hour. I checked the time to make sure I wasn’t late, and found I was still almost an hour early. I got out of my car and started for the entrance when I noticed Lawrence talking with Randy, who appeared to have sobered up. They were standing near the front of the building and didn’t see me. I hoped Randy was apologizing for how he acted yesterday, because maybe then Lawrence would treat the rest of us better.
I left them to it and headed inside the cast entrance. Prudence was leaning against the wall just inside, looking weary.
“Am I late?” I asked, glancing around. There were quite a few people here, all of them already in costume.
“Not if you didn’t get a call from Lawrence,” she said. “He wanted a few of us here early to get some painting done. I should have known it was a smokescreen. He had us up onstage running lines within minutes.”
“Good.” I breathed a sigh of relief before realizing how that must have sounded. “I mean, good about me not being late. Not so good he tricked you.” I paused and frowned. “Why didn’t he call me?” If he thought anyone needed more practice, I should have been at the top of the list.
“Probably didn’t have your number,” she said before nodding toward the back. “You should get dressed before he sees you out of costume. Maybe he’ll think you’ve been here the entire time and will go easy on you.”
“I can hope,” I said, starting for the back, but stopped when I noticed Robert red-faced, standing with Santa and Trisha. I edged closer, not wanting to be seen, but curious as to what was going on.
“Leave her alone,” Robert was saying, voice tight as if he’d been saying it over and over again for quite a while. “She’s not interested in you.”
“Give her time,” Santa said. “It’s not like she has any better options around here.” He covered his smile by taking a drink out of huge mug.
Robert took a threatening step forward. It was surprising to see him defend someone else so vehemently. I’m not sure he would have ever done the same for me back when we’d dated. “I’m warning you . . .”
Trisha put a restraining hand on his arm and whispered something into his ear. Robert smiled and pointed a finger at Santa, yet another warning, but at least he didn’t rush him, fists flying. Not that I thought Robert could hold his own, or had ever been in a fight in his life. Chances were good that if he were to pick a fight with Santa, he’d lose.
It should have ended there, but Santa couldn’t seem to help himself. “You know,” he said, turning to face Trisha. “We should spend more time together outside of practice to work on our chemistry. We’re supposed to be married, and I don’t think it comes off onstage.”
“I don’t think so,” she said with a disgusted look. She was in full Mrs. Claus attire, but was anything but the loving wife at the moment. Then again, Santa wasn’t being a very good Mr. Claus. He wasn’t Billy Bob Thornton in Bad Santa bad, but he was getting there.
Robert ground his teeth together. “Don’t make me hit you, Chuck, because I’ll do it.”
“Oh really?” Santa—Chuck, apparently—stepped forward and puffed out his chest. “Let’s see where that gets you.”
I was about to step in when the good-looking elf I’d noticed yesterday appeared and put his arm around Trisha. “You know, you don’t have to deal with these losers if you don’t want to.”
She shrank away from his touch and moved closer to Robert. “I’m fine right here, thank you very much.”
“Suit yourself.” He turned to Chuck, seemingly unperturbed by her rejection. “I need to talk to you for a few minutes.” He started back to the dressing rooms without waiting for a response.
Knowing I’d be caught eavesdropping if I remained standing there, I hurried down the hall and slipped into the women’s dressing room. I closed the door, and then put my ear to it so I could listen in if they stopped outside to talk. I was the only one in the room, thankfully.
The sound of footfalls approached. I waited, but the door to the men’s dressing room across the hall opened and closed. I held my breath and waited, hoping to catch a word or two, but if Chuck and sexy elf were talking, they were keeping their voices down.
With a shrug, I turned and started to get dressed myself. I didn’t even know why I was interested in their conversation. I didn’t care about Robert anymore, so it wasn’t like I was worried about how his love life was progressing. And when it came to the conversation happening across the hall, it was unlikely it had anything to do with him or Trisha anyway.
Maybe Rita was rubbing off on me; she was the gossip queen and would love to know about all the drama going on backstage. If I slipped her a few juicy bits here or there, she’d go easier on me the next time I did something stupid.
My costume was sitting on the counter with my name written on a sticky note sitting on top of it. Someone had taken it in overnight, like Lawrence had wanted. I half-feared it would be too small now, but when I slid it on, the outfit fit perfectly. Whoever had done the job had done good work. Lawrence himself had been the one to
pin it before I left the night before, so I wondered if he was the one who’d fixed it. The man had to have some redeeming qualities, didn’t he?
I left the dressing room—pausing only a second outside the men’s door, but it was quiet inside—and headed out front just as Lawrence called everyone to the stage. I took my place beside Prudence after sneaking another chocolate cherry. She looked me up and down and gave me a thumbs up and smile.
“Looks good,” she whispered before turning to the front to await Lawrence’s command.
He paced up front, scowling and rubbing at his forehead like he had a killer migraine. He kept glancing at the stage and muttering to himself. I guess his talk with Randy hadn’t gone all that well. Maybe it hadn’t been so much an apology as a last-ditch effort to regain his role.
Finally, Lawrence stopped and bellowed, “Where is everyone?”
I glanced around the stage. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Claus was present. Nor was Robert. The good-looking elf was frowning down at his feet, so he was done talking with Santa in the back, though the not-so-jolly man wasn’t on stage with us.
“Uh-oh,” Prudence said. “Lawrence hates it when there’s a no show.”
Sure enough, the director busted a gasket. “What is wrong with you people? Don’t you understand how pressed for time we are? Do you want to make me look like a fool while you bumble around the stage like a bunch of middle-schoolers who never bothered to learn your lines?” He sucked in an angry breath and turned to Dean, the poor crewman he’d berated yesterday. “Find them.” And then he spun and stomped off.
Uncertain what to do, the cast wandered away, talking in low voices. I saw Asia and Prairie huddled together, talking to one another. I stuck with Prudence, since she was really the only friend I seemed to have here.
“Where do you think they went?” she asked, thoughtfully. “Chuck was here earlier. I can’t imagine him skipping out now.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I saw him arguing with Robert earlier. He’s missing too.”
“As is Trisha.”
“Maybe they’ve decided to duke it out,” I said with a shrug. It sounded like something Robert might suggest, but I doubted he’d ever go through with it. “That elf over there was talking to Santa in the dressing room just before we started, so maybe he knows what happened to them.”
“Let’s find out,” Prudence said. “I’d like to get practice started soon. Lawrence will hold us all night otherwise, and I have things to do this evening.” She started for the good-looking elf, who was currently standing alone, still frowning.
I was about to follow her when I caught a glimpse of Robert heading for the side entrance. He had a backpack thrown over one shoulder, and while he was still wearing his elf outfit, his green shoes were gone. He didn’t so much as look behind him as he hurried out the side door.
An odd sense of loss pooled in my gut at the sight of him leaving. While we might not get along, he was one of the few people I knew here. It was strange to think I could be upset about seeing Robert’s back, but there it was.
I headed for the door, hoping to call him back, or at least ask him why he was leaving. I get that he was upset about Santa hitting on his newest girlfriend, but was it worth throwing away his role in the play? I had no doubts Lawrence would fire him on the spot the moment he realized what was happening.
I pushed open the door and flinched against the blast of cold air that rushed inside. A car—Robert’s I imagined—fishtailed as it sped out of the lot and down the street. I was already too late.
A scream tore through the building behind me then, causing me to jump. I spun and saw the flood of people heading to the back, toward where the scream had originated. Not to be left behind, I hurried to catch up with Prudence.
“What happened?” I asked her.
“I don’t know.”
Just as we reached the dressing rooms, one of the female crew members staggered out of the men’s side, hand over her mouth. She was only able to point back into the room, before she rushed away, tears streaming down her face.
Prudence and I looked at each other, and then started forward as one, most of the rest of the cast following at our heels. I pushed open the door and saw the nightmare-inducing tableau that lay on the other side.
5
“Why would anyone want to kill Santa Claus?”
I stood next to the cast entrance, arms crossed over my chest, listening to the shocked murmurs of the cast and crew in a state of disbelief. Asia wasn’t the only one who couldn’t believe Santa was dead. A part of me had known what to expect when I’d opened the door, but to see it was nearly enough to kill my childhood memories.
Sirens were nearing and they couldn’t get there fast enough. I was shivering, standing in my elf outfit, by an open door in mid-winter, without a coat. The backstage area had felt oppressive with it closed up, hence the open door, but I was beginning to wonder about the wisdom of the decision. Still, while it might be cold and windy outside, there was something to say for natural light. It kept the shocked gathering from getting too down.
Lawrence was pacing back and forth in front of the dressing rooms, not letting anyone inside. He appeared beside himself, but I don’t think it was because of the dead man as much as it was the fact his play was ruined. He’d cursed poor dead Santa at least twice in his nervous ramblings, which said a lot about his character, if you asked me. I mean, who does that?
“Who do you think did it?” Prudence asked, coming to stand next to me. She’d pulled on a shawl and was huddled in it, looking more like a fragile old woman now than she’d had since I’d met her.
“I don’t know,” I said, though I was pretty sure I did. Robert was gone, as was his girlfriend, Trisha. The good-looking elf who’d gone into the dressing room with Santa was standing near the stage, frowning at the floor hard enough, I was surprised it didn’t crack. Did that mean he knew something? Had he been inside when Robert had burst in on their conversation? Maybe he was beating himself up because he let the two men fight it out, and now, one of them was dead, the other on the run.
Of course, that was all speculation. Maybe Robert had a perfectly good excuse for sneaking away quickly like he had. But whatever it was, it had better be a really good one or else he would be in some serious trouble.
“Can’t say he’ll be missed much,” Prudence said with a shake of her head. “It’s still a shame, of course, but he wasn’t well-liked.”
I nodded absently. I kept trying to imagine Robert attacking Santa, or as he should be known, Chuck. I couldn’t seem to do it, however. It wasn’t the sort of thing Robert did.
A pair of police cruisers pulled into the lot, an ambulance right behind them. I pushed the door open the rest of the way and steeled myself for what was to come. I was hoping Paul Dalton would be one of the responding officers; he always made these sorts of things easier for me. Much to my dismay, however, it wasn’t Paul who stepped out of the nearest cruiser.
“Here we go again,” Officer John Buchannan said as he approached the door. “Can’t you stay out of trouble, just once?”
“I didn’t do anything,” I said, eyeing him. He’d never liked me all that much, and while he’d stopped accusing me of every crime in town, there was still a distrust behind his eyes I didn’t like. I doubted it would ever go away, no matter what I did.
“The victim inside?” Officer Garrison asked, joining us. Her voice was as husky as ever and she smelled vaguely of smoke. She, much like Buchannan, wasn’t my biggest fan, and I wondered if he had something to do with that. She wouldn’t even look my way when she spoke, choosing instead to address Prudence.
“He is,” I answered, loudly as to get her to look at me. “No one’s touched anything since we found the body.”
Buchannan motioned for the paramedics, who’d stopped outside, and as a group, they headed for the men’s dressing room where Lawrence was waving them over. Buchannan paused, lowered—and surprisingly, softened—his voice and said, “Make su
re no one leaves.”
With a nod and a shiver, I closed the door and planted myself in front of it, Prudence at my side. It wasn’t the only entrance to the building, but it was the most accessible. I wasn’t even sure the front doors were unlocked since Lawrence made such a big deal about them yesterday. Everyone was hovering around backstage—everyone but Chuck, Robert, and Trisha that was.
“I bet Randy did it,” Prudence said, rubbing her hands together to warm them.
“Why do you say that?” I asked. I’d seen him outside earlier that evening, talking with Lawrence, but hadn’t seen him since. I supposed he could have snuck inside and waited for Chuck to be alone, and then struck, but it seemed a little far-fetched at the moment, especially considering Robert’s flight.
“He wasn’t happy about losing his part in the play,” Prudence said. “He blamed Chuck for it, as if the other man was responsible for his drinking. Did you know he used a vodka bottle to dent Chuck’s car door? Then, when it broke, he tried to stab it through the tire, but was too drunk to finish the job.”
“When was this?”
“Second night of practice. Man has shown up ever since that night, drunk as a skunk. If anyone had it in for Chuck, it would be him.”
Admittedly, he did sound like a likely suspect. If it wasn’t for the fact I’d seen Robert fleeing the scene, I’d think he’d be the most likely. It would have been hard for Randy to get inside, kill Chuck, and get out without anyone seeing him, but it was possible. If he’d waited in the dressing room, he could have hidden away until the good-looking elf left the room.
I glanced at the man in question and wondered if he had seen Chuck’s death, but disliked the man so much, he was willing to hide it. He’d sounded a little tense when he’d told Chuck they needed to talk.
“Maybe he wasn’t murdered,” I said, unconvincingly. It would be kind of hard to stab yourself in the back.
Death by Eggnog Page 4