Shadowed Seats: (Oliana Mercer series Book 1)

by Marguerite Ashton

  I fished my phone out of my pocket and texted Austin. “Need to see you now.”

  Hunger pains hit my stomach as I searched the fridge, eyeing the pasta salad and pork tenderloin Mom had fixed before she left.

  I made a plate and finished just before the doorbell rang.

  It was Austin.

  I let him in and talked about my visit to the police station. “What else happened. Austin? There’s something you’re forgetting. Or not telling.”

  “I didn’t kill her,” said Austin, pacing by the front door.

  “Just think about it. Was there anybody else around? Did you talk to anyone else after you left Devin?”

  “The only thing I remember is that while I was talking to Devin, she set her bottle down. She started getting loud, waving her hands. Telling me that James needed to be responsible for his part in getting her pregnant.

  “I told her that she should’ve been on birth control.”

  “You’re a jerk.”

  Austin stopped pacing and looked my way. “I’m less of a jerk compared to River Fuller. She threatened Devin.”

  “Was this Saturday?”

  “Yep. River took another shot at her as I was leaving. The sicko warned Devin not to be by a flight of stairs when she was around. River wanted her to lose the baby.”

  Anger rolled through me. My best friend died knowing that someone wanted to hurt her. I’d heard enough. “Why didn’t you help Devin? Or were you still being an ass?”

  “I tried to help. When I turned around, Devin was on her way out. River saw me, walked away and I left.”

  “That’s it? You’re acting like you don’t care.”

  “What was I supposed to do?”

  “Tell a teacher. If you’d stepped in, Devin might still be alive.” I took a deep breath and exhaled. “Did you tell Detective Tanner about River.”

  Austin nodded. “And the cops still want to pin this on me.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The worst part is, my girlfriend thinks I did it.”

  “No. I don’t.” I reached for Austin’s hand and rested my head on his shoulder.

  “Are you afraid of me?”

  I shook my head. “I’m confused about everything that’s happened over the last few days. Not to just Devin. But to me. Things you don’t know about.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Not now.”

  Austin kissed me on the lips. “I better get home before my parents realize I’m not in my room. Love you.”

  “Love you.”

  Austin slipped out the door, closing it softly behind him.

  River. She had access to everything regarding the play.

  I needed to find out what happened.

  Chapter 5

  Lead Role

  The next morning, Mr. C stopped me in the hallway just before I entered my history class. “Oliana, I need you step down as student director.”

  “I’m sorry I was late. I can explain—”

  “You need to take over as lead.”

  My stomach knotted. It just didn’t feel right stepping in for a part that Devin was meant to play. “There are at least two cast members who can take her place.”

  “You’re the only one who knows the entire script.”

  I wasn’t so sure I believed that. Everyone on the set knew the play. And I could count on one hand how many wanted the lead more than I did. “Can I have some time to think about it? Devin’s funeral’s next week.”

  “I need an answer now. If we don’t keep our performance date, we’ll lose the funding for the drama department, which will stop our donations to the children’s charities. Also, before you call me insensitive, I overheard Devin was a victim of bullying. I discussed this with the others and they want to keep the play going as a tribute to Devin.”

  A few feet in front of me, a teacher stepped out of his room and ordered a group of kids to settle down.

  “Okay. I’ll do it,” I said.

  “Devin will be missed.” Mr. C dropped his chin to his chest. “Heck, I knew she was right for the part the minute she did the audition. We’ll make sure that the audience knows how much we miss her.”

  I looked over at the trophy case, zeroing in on the trophy our school won at state last year for best color guard. Devin’s solo performance had helped give the extra points needed to win.

  My anxiety about dishonoring Devin’s memory by agreeing to take her place had ceased. Her memory was still solid, with the school and me. I’m making the right decision. The best part of all was my chance to see what happened the night Devin died and to follow-up on Austin’s lead about River Fuller. “She would’ve liked that very much.”

  Mr. C shifted his weight onto his other leg. “I’m proud of you. You’re going to Reyersen—the best drama school to wet your feet and prepare you for the red carpet. If I’ve taught you anything during these four years, you’d know that you only get one chance in this business to ride that red carpet to Hollywood. What are the rules in the film industry?”

  “Be to the set on time, learn my lines and don’t try to tell anybody else how to act.”

  The bell rang, I shot into the classroom and claimed a seat in the back.

  Mrs. Lynn eyed me for a second and returned to her power-point.

  That was close.

  I caught sight of Devin’s empty chair as I reached into my backpack for the script. A feeling of sadness seeped in as my eyes rested on the lines Devin had repeated more than a hundred times.

  I’m tired of hurting. I want to feel something different.

  You were hurting more than I realized, my friend. I’m doing the play for you.

  After school, I hurried to the bathroom, changed out of my clothes and into costume, trying not to think that Devin had worn clothes like this the night she died.

  I checked the mirror.

  No alterations needed.

  I scooped up my belongings and left.

  Voices carried from the ramp as I entered the auditorium and found my way backstage. People stood in small groups, practicing their lines, but their hearts weren’t in it.

  I felt the same way. My only hope was that the caffeine from the energy drink I had during lunch would get me through this.

  “Come on people,” Mr. C said getting out of his seat. “Where’s your zest? Our first live performance is around the corner.”

  River walked up to me, handed me my clipboard and removed one of her earbuds. “I guess Mr. C’s stage pet gets two roles for the play.”

  Rock music leaked from River’s headset.

  I scanned through the papers and realized that once again, the schedule wasn’t on top. “I’d rather be the stage pet than a bully. I heard what you wanted to do to Devin. Push her down the stairs so she’d lose the baby.”

  Abe, the school janitor, passed by us, pushing a wide broom across the floor. His shoulders slouched forward, supporting his long silver hair that he kept in a ponytail.

  “That’s a lie,” said River.

  “About a month ago, Devin showed me a screen shot of your messages to her. How she wasn’t good enough for James. That she was ugly and it’d be better if she just hung herself. I told the detective about you. And if the cops want to know more, I’ll be glad to tell them about the information you’d tried to pump me for since they’ve been together.

  “The more I think about it, it was you who switched my pages around on my clipboard. You talked to Devin right after Austin did. It was you that had the problem with Devin’s pregnancy. I’m beginning to think that you had something to do with her death.”

  River lunged for me, grabbed my hair and pulled, her nails grinding on my scalp.

  Pain splintered the top of my head as my right fist hammered her face.

  She broke through the punches, shoving me backward onto a prop table.

  I got to my feet. “You had my clipboard the night Devin was murdered. You checked the schedule to see when she was working. That was the last night she was due to perform unt
il warm-ups the day of the show.”

  Mr. C stepped in between us. “What’s going on here?”

  River adjusted her music note pendant and wiped the blood from her lip. “Nothing. Everything’s handled.”

  “Like hell,” Mr. C said handing River his handkerchief. “Are you two so stupid that you want to get suspended with graduation being less than a week away?”

  River took the handkerchief and held it to her lip. “I said something that wasn’t true and Oliana called me on it.”

  Mr. C turned to me, his eyes flashing disappointment. “Is that true?”

  I had no proof that River did anything. To me, it all made sense. The things she did and said to Devin. And she didn’t deny my accusations about the chart. “Yes.”

  “River, go tighten up the sounds,” Mr. C said, his voice dripping with anger.

  River took two steps back, turned, shaking her head as she left.

  “It’s just us now, Oliana. Tell me the truth.”

  I want to so bad Mr. C. “I know I’ve disappointed you but what River said is the truth.”

  “Since you’re lying to me, get up on stage and nail every single line for scenes 1-4. Miss a line, and I’m reporting you two to the office.”

  Fear silenced my words as I watched my drama teacher disappear through the curtains, which only meant he was headed for his favorite front row seat.

  Soon, the play began. I put on the wig, gathered my courage and stepped on stage. I found my mark and waited for a scene involving a nasty breakup to finish.

  In the rafters, a clanging sound silenced the auditorium.

  “Get down,” someone shouted.

  Screams erupted as people cleared the stage.

  Before I had a chance to react, I was tackled to the floor.

  A second later, a loud crash as something hit the stage.

  A gust of wind and debris whipped my face as I looked up in the rafters. A wire dangled near a light, swinging from side to side, like a headless snake. Below it, the speaker once held by the wire had shattered into chunks of all sizes.

  My hands shook as I stood, focusing on where the speaker had landed.

  It landed where I was standing.

  An hour after the incident, cops had finished their search of the building. Still shaken, I hung out backstage, replaying in my mind about discovering the journal, the fight with River, and the freak accident with the speaker; all in the same week as Devin’s death. So much for enjoying my final days as a high school senior.

  If this was the everyday reality waiting for me out in the world, I wasn’t interested. Was I just having a bad week or was this another hint that only horrible things await me in my future?

  Mr. C warned me about needing a thick skin if I wanted to make it in this industry. But the way things were going, I preferred an emotional shield to combat what was happening.

  Another round of noise played above my head. I watched as the crew finished sweeping the stage while others were being interviewed by police. Up on the catwalk, Abe and the other janitors double checked the stability of the lights and speakers.

  Minutes later, Abe walked up to Mr. C, with a concerned look etched on his face. He placed something in my teacher’s hand. It looked like the wire that once held the speaker. Both men chatted as Abe pointed at the spot where the speaker once held its place.

  I rested my arm on the railing, trying to hear their conversation.

  No luck.

  Moments later, Abe turned and left.

  Mr. C glanced over his shoulder and made his way over to me. “The wire was cut.”

  I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and opened them. There was no reason to ask the next question that was on my mind. It was apparent it was done on purpose. “Was I the target?”

  The others came over and joined us, listening intently.

  “I don’t know. The superintendent is thinking about cancelling the performance,” said Mr. C.

  “No,” we all said in unison.

  “We’ve all worked hard to make this happen,” I said.

  “If we’re told to shut down because of safety concerns, I won’t have a choice.”

  “Then we’ll host the play somewhere else.” I pointed to the map identical to the one hanging outside the auditorium. “Playwright Donald Steen kept his dream alive. You’ve lectured us over and over about him not giving up. Our message about bullying needs to be heard. Why can’t this be our dream?”

  “This is different.”

  “Different how? The writer received death threats, nasty phone calls, but he made it work.”

  Mr. C held up his hands. “Slow up, Oliana. I understand your passion and everyone who has worked their butt off to put this play together. But we almost you, too.”

  “What about tonight’s rehearsal?” asked one student.

  The police liaison for the school entered the auditorium and stood off to the side.

  “Rehearsal will continue,” said Mr. C.

  Cheers erupted from everyone.

  “It’ll be a dry run until police are done talking with my sound people,” said Mr. C raising his voice over ours. “Now, let’s get through this final scene.” He turned to me. “Give me a thirty-second count instead of fifteen before entering.”

  I nodded, placed myself behind the drapes and waited for my turn to go on stage. Out of the corner of my eye, a flashing red light caught my attention. I cocked my head, squinting to identify the object tucked away behind the ceiling mount supporting the curtain track.

  A camera.

  I had hid behind the curtain and managed the stage for four years and never noticed the camera. Yes, cameras were hidden throughout the school halls, including the auditorium in glass orbs watching our every move. But had this one captured my fight with River? What about the night Devin died? Hope filled me as I reveled in the possibility of finding proof that River was the person responsible for Devin’s death.

  “Oliana? You missed your count,” Mr. C called from his seat.

  My attention returned to the stage, drinking in the disapproving looks from cast members. Their stares were singeing what confidence I’d built up for this moment. I suck.

  I bolted out onto the stage, grateful that my latest discovery hadn’t shocked me enough to forget my lines. Memories of Devin delivering this final scene flooded me. It was as if she was standing next to me, urging me to finish this scene without guilt and give the best performance I could manage.

  The pained look on Devin’s face after she told me about the bullying flashed in my mind, making it easy to envision the person in front of me as River.

  “This is who I am. I may not have the looks of a runway model, but I’m beautiful on the inside. You pick on me because you’re unhappy. You’re not gonna hurt me anymore,” I said, jabbing my finger in the air.

  Clapping pounded my ears as Mr. C walked up on stage and gave me a high five. “Well done, Oliana.”

  “Thank you,” I said watching River exit the auditorium. “Can I go now? I’ll be back first thing for last rehearsal.”

  “Tomorrow. 6:15 a.m.”

  I grabbed my belongings, ducked out of the auditorium and scanned the halls for River.

  Nothing.

  Abe was next on my list. Maybe he’d answer my questions about the camera. I sprinted down the hall toward the janitor’s warehouse. The metal door leading to the outside was opened.

  I watched as Abe dropped trash bags into the dumpster and locked up the entrance.

  “Oliana.” Abe shuffled in my direction. “Don’t tell me there’s another problem.”

  “Oh no. I’m here because I noticed that there’s a video camera in the auditorium backstage.”

  “It’s been there for at least three years.”

  “Did the police check it out?”

  “Yep.”

  “Was it turned on the night Devin was killed?”

  “It turns on by motion. When that happens, I get a message on my phone, and I can view t
he activity.” Abe’s bushy eyebrow arched. “What’s this about? You in trouble or something?”

  “No. I just think the police might have missed something. Can you help me out?”

  “If we’re not causing trouble, I’ll show you what I got,” said Abe leading me toward his desk. He sifted through the paperwork until he retrieved his phone. He tapped the screen and handed it to me. “The files are in the cloud. Camera one is backstage. Camera two is the auditorium.”

  I scanned through the dates and times listing activity until I came to the one I needed. As I watched people moving around backstage on the video, I caught a glimpse of the back of a girl’s head. A clunky braid.

  River.

  I skipped some of the empty footage until I saw movement twenty-four minutes later. Austin and Devin were standing by the stairs leading off the stage, having an animated discussion. A few seconds later, Austin walked away, and River came back into the picture and exchanged words with Devin.

  When Austin returned, Devin walked past him as River left.

  Did the police interview River?

  I toggled to the file for Camera two, which switched to a view of the stage and the ramp leading up the left aisle towards the entrance of the auditorium.

  Every muscle tensed as I watched River toss her backpack over her shoulder, disappearing up the ramp and into the shadows covering a row of seats. Why would River leave during rehearsal? She’s in charge of sound and needs to be on set to help sort out sound cues. Once again, I skipped a few clips until I saw River re-enter the auditorium. This time, without her backpack.

  I checked the time.

  Twelve minutes.

  That gives her plenty of time to dump something and come back. “Can you send me a copy of the files? I want to take this to the police.”

  “I suppose. Not sure there’s anything different on there than what I sent the cops.”

  I punched in my email address and handed Abe his phone. “Thanks.”

  Soon I was outside standing in front of the dumpster used by the janitors, stepping over cigarette butts that littered the ground. Digging through trash was not on my list for today. I looked down at the costume. My discussions with Mom on being a lady in a dress failed to come rushing forth. Probably because she always talked about it while pulling me out of trees. How about if I just don’t bend over. I kicked off the wedges, climbed inside and began my search for anything that looked like a clue. The more I thought about it, the more I felt like an idiot; stepping in mushy food, sinking until I was knee deep in carrots and spaghetti.