My stomach grumbled and I decided it was time to step away from the murder a bit and get myself more into the holiday spirit. I glanced once more at the Whistling Wet Weasel, and wondered if Santa would be spending much more time there, or if he’d found a way to make his own Christmas wish come true.
10
I was happy to see business was brisk at Death by Coffee, even if it meant waiting in line for my eggnog coffee and cookie. It wasn’t much of a meal, but it was better than going hungry. Both Lena and Jeff were working up a sweat as they took order after order—mostly eggnog-related items. Upstairs, Vicki was less busy. Her boyfriend, Mason Lawyer, stood at the counter, talking to her while she rang up a book sale.
As I waited for my turn in line, I glanced at the tree upstairs to find even more gifts sitting beneath it. It felt good to know there were so many generous people in Pine Hills.
Lena gave me a tired smile as I stepped up to the counter. “What can I get ya?” she asked.
I ordered my coffee and cookies and paid before stepping aside to wait for Jeff. I’d have stood and talked a bit, asking her how the day was going and so forth, but the line continued on behind me and showed no signs of easing up. Jeff finished putting my order together and handed it over without seeming to recognize me.
I found an open table in the corner and grabbed it before anyone else could. I brushed away cookie crumbs left by the last guest who’d sat there, and then took my seat, feeling guilty. I should be working, not running all over town, shopping and investigating murders.
But Lena and Jeff did seem to have things under control. No one was forced to wait too long for their order, and when I tried my cookie, I found it to be still warm, so they were keeping up just fine with the baking.
“Can you believe what they’ve done to me?”
I jumped, sloshing a good portion of my coffee onto the table. Rita pulled up a chair and sat down.
“You should be more careful, dear,” she said, with a disapproving look at the spill.
“Thanks,” I muttered, rising to grab some napkins to mop up the mess. “What’s wrong?” I asked Rita as I sat back down.
“I’m banned from the theatre!” Her hand fluttered at her chest like the mere thought gave her heart palpitations.
“Really? By whom?”
“Lawrence Jackson, if you can believe it!” She huffed. “He told me I was a distraction. Me! I mean, how dare he? After everything I’ve done for his production. And that’s not to mention what I’ve done for the theatre. I was the one who’d discovered the wet spot on the ceiling in the women’s room. If I hadn’t, it could have caved in on everyone’s head! And then I recruited you when they wouldn’t have been able to find anyone to take Mandy’s spot. I’m a blessing to that place and he simply can’t see it.”
I sat stoically through her rant before asking, “Why would he ban you?” I was genuinely curious. Rita could be annoying, but her heart was in the right place. She truly did want the play to succeed, even if she often went about it the wrong way.
“I didn’t do a thing to deserve it,” she said. “All I did was ask Lawrence about why he was meeting with Randy Winter in the alley bordering the theatre yesterday. Something passed between them, and I’m pretty sure it was money.”
I gaped at her. “A payoff of some kind?” Had Randy paid Lawrence to off Santa for him so he could take over the role? Why not just fire the man, if that was the case?
“I’m thinking drugs,” Rita said with an assured nod of her head. “I mean, that man has to be on drugs to tell me not to come back. I’m the life of that theatre, whether he wants to admit it or not.”
My eyes wanted to roll, but I kept them in place. “When did this happen exactly?” I asked. She’d said yesterday, but I found that hard to believe. Randy hadn’t seemed thrilled when I’d brought up Lawrence, but then again, if there was blackmail of some kind going on, then I guess it made sense he might not be in a good mood.
Of course, that brought up the question: who was blackmailing whom?
“Just last night,” Rita said. “I went to the theatre, thinking there might still be practice since no one told me otherwise. The doors were closed and locked up tight, so I was going to turn around and leave when I heard voices. I decided to do my civic duty and make sure nothing untoward was happening, and that’s when I saw Randy and Lawrence. Once the money passed hands, I went back to my car and waited for Lawrence to come slipping out of the shadows. He was parked right next to me, so I knew he’d have to come out eventually.” She gave me a self-satisfied smile. “I confronted him right then and there.”
“What did he say?” I asked.
“Nothing! Can you believe he denied it ever happened? I saw him as plain as day and he had the gall to call me a liar.” She harrumphed. “Then he told me I’m not to return to the theatre or he’d call the police on me!”
My mind was racing. Why were Lawrence and Randy at the theatre on a night when there was to be no practice? They weren’t supposed to like one another. You don’t make shady alleyway dealings, especially right after a murder, if you didn’t have something to hide. Could they be in on Chuck’s death together? Or did one of them commit the crime and the other found out somehow?
None of it made sense. I simply didn’t have enough information to go on without jumping to conclusions that would be better left for the police.
“Who gave whom the money?” I asked.
Rita started to speak, paused, and then frowned. “Well, now that I think about it, I’m not sure.”
“What do you mean you’re not sure?”
“It was dark. And they were all hunched together. Since it was in an envelope, I guess I can’t be sure it was actually money. I was too busy trying to hear what they were saying to pay full attention to what they were doing. You know how it is.”
I sighed. As far as we knew, Randy was giving Lawrence his favorite cocktail recipe. Since Rita had only seen an envelope, and she hadn’t thought to check to see who was the one to pass it on to the other, that left me with practically nothing.
“Could you make out what they were talking about?” I asked, hopefully.
“As I said, it was dark.” She said it like the quality of light would impact her hearing. “And they weren’t talking loudly.” She blushed and fanned herself off. “I only heard a word or two and none of it made much sense.”
“So you don’t know why they were back there?”
“Of course not, dear. Why do you think I had to confront Lawrence about it?” Rita heaved herself up. “I should be going. I need to make a few calls and let some very important people know they shouldn’t attend this year’s production. If I can’t be a part of it, well then, no one is going to enjoy it!”
She stormed off, out into the cold, a woman on a mission. I felt bad for her, sure, but also felt bad for anyone who got in her way, including Lawrence. I don’t think he realized what he’d done by getting on her bad side.
But if he was Chuck’s killer, and was paying off witnesses, then my pity would be short-lived.
Noting Vicki and Mason alone upstairs, I finished off my light lunch and then rose. I headed upstairs to join them. Vicki was a theatre pro, so if anyone could fill me in on the ins and outs of theatre life, she was the one. And while she’d only done one play since moving to Pine Hills, there was a chance she’d had interactions with Lawrence Jackson, as well as some of the current cast. Maybe she’d be able to tell me what kind of people I was dealing with.
“Hey, Krissy, how’s the acting?” Mason asked with a wide smile as I approached.
“Exhausting,” I said. “No one told me it was going to be a musical. Every muscle in my body aches, and that includes my tongue from all the singing!”
Vicki laughed. “All plays can be grueling, but musicals are definitely worse. It’s up to the director not to work you too hard.”
Perfect, I thought. “Speaking of directors, do you know Lawrence Jackson? He’s directing the play.�
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“Sorry,” Vicki said with a shake of her head. “I’ve heard the name, of course, but nothing else. Why?”
I shrugged. “I was curious about him, is all.”
“Does it have to do with the murder?” Mason asked, a knowing gleam in his eye.
“It might,” I admitted. “He was seen making what one could construe as a shady deal in an alleyway last night. I was wondering if you knew if he was into gambling or anything.”
“Can’t help you there,” Vicki said. “Are you still going through with the production? I’d heard it was still on despite the tragedy.”
I nodded. “So far, we are. Though I’m not sure I’m going to make it.” I rubbed at my lower back for emphasis.
“Drink lots of water,” Vicki said. “And maybe throw in something with electrolytes. Since you’re singing and dancing, you’ll want to keep your energy up, as well as keep hydrated.”
“Thanks,” I said. My diet of coffee and cookies was probably not the best pre-practice fuel. “I’m worried about how tonight’s going to go. Our Santa was just murdered, quite possibly by someone still working there. How can you get into the holiday spirit with that hanging over your head?”
“Are you going to be asking around about it?” Mason asked, voice growing concerned. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what kind of person I was, and that I wouldn’t be able to leave a murder investigation alone.
“I don’t know,” I said, not meeting his eye. “I guess I will be. It’ll be hard not to talk about it, so it isn’t like I’m going to have to corner anyone.”
“Want some advice?” Vicki asked.
“Sure.”
“Don’t throw accusations around. Theatre people are a tight knit group. Sure, everyone has their eccentricities, so there’s always a little bit of gossip and jealousy going around. But if you start acting like you suspect cast mates of being involved in the murder, you’ll be ostracized from the group and they’ll start protecting one another.”
“Okay,” I said, not liking the sound of that at all. “What do you recommend?”
“Get in close to them,” Vicki said. “You’re new, so it won’t seem strange if you try to get to know people by asking a few questions. If you hang out and listen, I bet you’ll learn a lot more than if you try to badger a confession out of someone. But remember, if there’s one thing theatre people love, it’s drama! Don’t be afraid to let a few juicy tidbits slip if you think it will get people talking.”
“And try not to get yourself hurt,” Mason added.
“I’ll do my best,” I said to his grin. “I should probably get going. Practice comes all too soon and I need to figure out how I’m going to do this.”
“Do you have another minute to talk?” Mason asked.
I checked the clock and nodded. “Sure.”
Mason glanced at Vicki before speaking. “We were wondering if you’d like to have Christmas dinner with us at my place. Will is invited, too, of course. We thought it would be nice to have you two over for a gift exchange and meal. If you already have plans, that’s fine. I know it’s short notice, but we didn’t make the decision until a few hours ago.”
“I . . .” I was touched and found an actual tear in my eye. “I’ll have to ask Will, but I’d love to go.” I looked at Vicki, worried. “That is, if it’s okay with you.”
“Of course it is, silly.” She came around the counter and gave me a reassuring hug. “We haven’t spent Christmas together for years. I thought it was time we started it up again. You’re like family to me.”
I sniffed. It must be from the dust because I surely couldn’t be crying. I wiped my eyes and smiled. “I’ll be there.” Even if Will couldn’t make it, I was determined to make time for them. “Thank you.”
Mason put his arm around Vicki’s waist and drew her in close. “We’ll see you then.”
I left the two lovebirds before I started blubbering. When we were younger, Vicki and I spent every Christmas together. Our families would meet, share stories, and exchange gifts, laughing the night away. I hadn’t realized how much I missed it until now.
I started for the door, but stopped myself short. Vicki was right; I needed to ingratiate myself with the rest of the cast or else I would end up dealing with a whole lot of cold shoulders. If I was going to help Robert, I couldn’t have that.
Changing directions, I headed for the register, which was now empty. Lena and Jeff were currently slumped against the back counter, having finally made it through the line of customers.
If there’s one thing owning Death by Coffee has shown me, it was that people valued their coffee. If I wanted to win the affections of the cast and crew, what better way than to bring them fuel—and warmth—for the grueling evening of practice? And maybe, when it’s all said and done, my gesture will help melt any cold shoulders I might otherwise have encountered.
11
“Hold the door, please.”
Dean jumped at the sound of my voice, but held the door for me as I carefully made my way through the slick snow, into the theatre. I was carrying two large thermoses full of coffee in my hands, and had a sleeve of cups under one arm, a package of sugar and creamer under the other. Sadly, I didn’t have enough hands for cookies or I’d have brought a few of those as well.
“Thanks,” I said, slipping inside and shaking off flakes of snow. It had started up again, and was coming down in a fluffy sheet that had me worried about road conditions when it came time to go home.
“My pleasure,” Dean said, taking the sleeve of cups from me before they fell from my loosening grip. He took a deep breath and grinned. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Sure is. Help me set up somewhere and you can have the first cup.”
Dean scurried off, leaving me to hold the thermoses. I could hear voices throughout the theatre, but couldn’t see anyone. I imagined most of the cast was in the back, getting dressed, while Lawrence was likely up front, making demands of whatever poor crew member he’d managed to snag hold of. I was kind of glad Dean had escaped him this time.
A moment later, he returned, carrying a folding table. I followed him to the back wall where he flipped it open, obviously having done it a time or two. I set down the thermoses and condiments the moment he had the table set upright, and then went about removing the cups from their sleeves. Dean picked up one of the to-go cups and looked at the label.
“Death by Coffee,” he said. “You know someone there?”
“I’m co-owner,” I said with just a hint of pride.
Dean snapped his fingers and looked me up and down. “That’s where I recognized you from. I knew I’d heard of you from somewhere before, but couldn’t place where. Now I know. You’ve been on the news. You helped solve a few murder cases, right?”
“That’s me,” I said, blushing. No matter how many times someone recognized me, I couldn’t get used to the celebrity, no matter how minor. “But I’m here as an elf, so no murder investigating for me.” My voice hitched on the last, and I hoped Dean didn’t notice and take it for a lie, which it was.
“That’s cool.” He nodded slowly, glanced around the room, and then moved to the thermoses. “We used to keep coffee set up back here, but Lawrence didn’t like it. Said it was a distraction. Too many of us would hover around, drinking and gossiping. When he’s not directing the plays, we usually go ahead and have drinks and snacks set up.”
“Do you think he’ll disapprove of this?” I asked, not wanting to draw any more of Lawrence’s ire.
“After the week we’ve had, I think he’ll let it slide.” He peered at the sticker on one of the thermoses and made a face. “Eggnog coffee?”
“It’s actually pretty good,” I said. “The other is regular, so if you aren’t interested, you can have that instead.”
Dean moved to the other thermos and filled himself a cup. He took a sip without adding cream or sugar. “So you aren’t looking into Chuck’s murder then?”
“They got the guy,” I said wit
h a shrug. “I just want to put it behind me and get on with the show. I really do need all the practice I can get.”
“It’s a shame,” Dean said with a shake of his head. “I, like most people here, didn’t much care for Chuck, but you never want something bad to happen to anyone you know, regardless of how they treat you. And now, the entire play is at risk. I know Lawrence wants to go through with it, but the Santa role can’t be played by just anyone. There’s just not enough time for a new guy to learn the part before show night.” Another sip of coffee. “I should get to work before Lawrence finds me.”
“He seems to be hard on you.” I spoke hurriedly before he could walk away. “I never see him yell at any of the other crew.”
Dean shrugged. “He expects a lot more out of me, I guess. I’ve been with the theatre for only a short while, but I work hard. Most of the time, anything that goes wrong, isn’t my fault, yet I’m usually the one who gets blamed for it.” His jaw clenched a heartbeat before he smiled. “Thanks for the coffee.” He raised his cup before turning and walking off.
By now, others were coming in, both from the back, and outside. Prudence saw me the moment she was through the door and hurried over. The snow made her hair sparkle.
“Now, that’s a sight for frozen bones.” She reached for a cup, paused. “May I?”
“Help yourself.”
She grabbed a cup and filled it will eggnog coffee. Unlike Dean, Prudence took hers with near fatal levels of sugar. She took a large swallow and sighed. “It’s getting bad out there. Violet fell on her way in. Just about burst into tears, but ended up coming in anyway. Figured she might go home, rather than face anyone. She never could handle being embarrassed.”
“Is Violet one of the elves?” I asked.
“One of the crew.” She jerked her thumb over toward where Dean was assisting a female crew member whose backside was wet. “Mousey looking one. She’s usually up in the booth with Zander, which is why you haven’t met her.”
“I see.” It made me realize how little I knew about everyone. There were at least a dozen people here whose names I didn’t know. And even when it came to the ones I’d met, I didn’t know last names, Chuck’s included, as bad as it seemed.
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