by Libby Klein
My trajectory flopped me next to Aunt Ginny on the love seat and I rubbed my arm. Iggy had a much more volatile temper than I would have pegged him for. I had half a mind to file a complaint with the Emily Post Institute.
Aunt Ginny gave me a raised eyebrow and said nothing.
The biddies enjoyed their fancy tea biscuits while my stomach growled. I took a strawberry from the side of the plate and popped it into my mouth. It would have been better cooked into jam and spread on a scone, but whatever. Fiona was droning on about Iggy’s master’s degree in electrical papier-mâché or some such nonsense, but I couldn’t shake my thoughts from that life insurance policy. The question that kept rolling around in my head wasn’t why Fiona was the beneficiary for Royce; she was his sister. The question was why did Iggy have the policy on his desk next to all those overdue bills? And why did someone who wore the same shirt with a hole in the armpit for three days in a row suddenly turn into Rain Man when money was involved?
After the sweets course, where I scarfed down one of my gluten-free shortbread cookies. Or maybe three. I was sure I’d worked off at least four cookies’ worth of calories just staying alive at Fiona’s house for two hours. In fact, I ate the fourth cookie and called it even.
I thought I might have to fake an injury to escape, but it was finally time to leave for dress rehearsal. It was an exciting night for the biddies and they were abuzz about the final practice before their “big debut.” They kept snickering to themselves, and the more they snickered, the more nervous I became about what they might have planned.
Aunt Ginny left me in the foyer to powder her nose. I hoped she wasn’t going to try to get into Iggy’s room. She’d never make it past Fiona’s purple nightmare. But a minute later, she raced past me. “Fiona, thank you for a lovely tea. You have a lovely home. We’ll have to do it again sometime. Bye.” Aunt Ginny rushed down the porch steps and hotfooted it to the car.
I turned and gave Fiona a weak smile. “Thank you for your gracious hospitality.” I hoped she’d remember those words when Iggy filled her in on my scouting mission down the hall. I pulled away from the curb and gave a final wave to Fiona, who was watching from the front door. Two windows down, I was being grilled by Little Lord Fauntleroy himself.
Chapter Forty-One
Aunt Ginny recoiled from the passenger window. “Whoa, what’d you do to him?”
“Touched his bobblehead.”
“I hope that isn’t what it sounds like.”
“If it was, I’d be bathing in peroxide right now. Why’d you fly out of there like the place was on fire? You didn’t start another fire, did you?”
“You’re going to have to let that go sometime.”
“Not today.”
“I spotted something while the rest of you were being hypnotized by those Marie Osmond dolls.”
“Their eyes kept following me. I think that house was designed by the Russians for sensory overload training.”
“That would explain why Iggy hasn’t managed to escape. Maybe he has Stockholm syndrome.”
“I don’t even want to talk about Iggy. My arm still hurts.”
Aunt Ginny pulled a framed photo out of her purse. “Look what I found.”
“You stole something from Fiona’s house?”
“It will take years before she notices it’s missing.”
I glanced at the picture, then crawled to a stop in the middle of the road. Calm down. It’s February in Cape May. Rush hour is three seagulls in a crosswalk. “Is that who I think it is?”
Aunt Ginny nodded. “I was so surprised, I dropped a cucumber down my dress. I still have to fish it out when I get home.”
“We have to ask her about this.”
“I doubt she’ll tell the truth. They obviously kept it hush-hush.”
“Y’all said Duke wasn’t seeing anyone, but here he is, cozied up with Fiona at some restaurant, and not that long ago from the looks of it. I want to know why she didn’t mention this when we found that suicide note.”
Aunt Ginny took the picture from me so I could drive. “I want to know how he went on a date with Fiona without Iggy sitting in between them.”
We made a quick pit stop at home so we could change. I had to get on my black pants, black T-shirt, and black shoes—the official uniform of backstage crew. Aunt Ginny rushed off to change into her Donna overalls and I checked email while I waited. Another troll had left me a bad review for the Butterfly Wings B&B. I didn’t have time to deal with it right now, so I tossed my phone in my tote bag. Joey and Val came in holding hands and giggling. They’d obviously made up, thankfully. The last thing I needed was a review that my house split up marriages.
Aunt Ginny finally emerged, and we said goodbye to Connie, who was graciously covering the B&B for a couple of hours, and headed to the Senior Center. We were the last to arrive. Everyone else was in the auditorium. Royce was leading the actors in a few vocal exercises, Bebe was warming the dancers up for their first company number, and Neil was consulting with Mother Gibson over props and stage directions.
I dropped my tote bag in a seat and took the picture from Aunt Ginny.
She was reluctant to let go of it. “What are you going to say to her? You’re not going to tell her I stole it, are you?”
“I might tell her you’re a kleptomaniac. It wouldn’t be your first time, would it?” I issued a challenge with my eyes.
Aunt Ginny blushed to the roots of her dye job. “I’m sure they have a yardstick in the craft room if you’re getting too big for your britches,” Aunt Ginny issued a challenge of her own.
We narrowed our eyes and glared at each other. “Well played, old lady.”
Aunt Ginny winked at me and sashayed down the aisle to find Royce.
I went and sat next to Fiona. She looked up from her crocheting. “I hope Iggy wasn’t rude to you this afternoon. He hasn’t had many girlfriends, plus he was an only child, so he never really learned how to share his toys.”
Does she think I’m Iggy’s girlfriend? “No, he was fine. I think he stayed in his room most of the time.”
She shook her head. “I told him he’s never going to find a wife if he spends all day playing Space Wars.”
I wanted to tell her that the video games were probably not Iggy’s biggest problem in finding a wife. Very few women were going to be attracted to a forty-year-old man who still lived with his mother, but I refrained. I was still stinging from Aunt Ginny’s fat joke.
I handed the photo to Fiona. “Mrs. Sharpe, I have an embarrassing confession to make. I think I accidentally knocked your picture into my tote bag when I was at tea. I just wanted to apologize and return it.”
Her eyes softened, and she touched the glass with a gnarled finger. “Oh, look at him there. This picture is almost five years old. That was our first date, you know.”
“You look happy together.”
“He was such a gentleman. He took me to dinner and to see three of the Four Tops at the Tropicana in Atlantic City. I didn’t know at the time that Duke hated casinos. After he’d been on the vice squad he didn’t want anything to do with gambling. He said it was like taking his work home with him. He was a lifer, you know.”
“What’s a lifer?”
“Being a cop was the only job he ever had. He joined the force straight out of high school. He told me he’d covered just about everything. Robberies, murders, runaways. Once, he got called for a seagull trapped in a house.” She chuckled at the memory.
“Did many people know you were going out?”
“No. He was a very private person. And we only dated on and off for about a year, but it didn’t go anywhere.”
“Were you the one who called off the relationship, then?”
Fiona looked back down at her bright orange yarn and started whipping her crochet hook through the little holes. “No. Duke said he was looking for a companion who could take off at any time and go anywhere. I’m a single mother and Iggy takes a lot of my attention, I can’t be f
ootloose and fancy free.”
I felt a wave of sadness for Fiona. She could have had love again, but she was afraid to take the leap. “I’m sorry.”
She gave me a bright smile. “It was a long time ago.”
Neil finished running the actors through warm-ups and told everyone to take their places to begin final rehearsal. I got set up in the light booth with my headset, my script, and my booklight so I could read my script, and I was adjusting the dial to the moonlight setting for the show opening. I noticed a pink scrap of paper stuck on the side of the cage. I pulled it off and read, “You were warned.”
What? . . . Is someone threatening me? I looked around the cage to see if there were any more notes stuck elsewhere or maybe fallen on the floor. There was a puddle forming under my feet. It was coming through the stage curtain and heading toward a frayed electrical cable from the light board that was skimming the floor. My last thought was, this is gonna hurt. I saw a flash and smelled burning rubber. Then everything went black.
Chapter Forty-Two
I didn’t feel pain. I felt anger. Anger and hunger. Partly because I’d only eaten four cookies and a strawberry, and partly because I thought I smelled bacon. Aunt Ginny was hovering over me and snapping her fingers in my face. “Poppy. Poppy.”
The biddies reminded me of the three good fairies from Sleeping Beauty, tutting and fretting and muttering to each other.
And Georgina pushed her way past Aunt Ginny to take my shoulders and shake me until my head flopped back and banged the floor. “Stay with me, Poppy. Say something.”
“Did somebody try to kill me? Because if I find out someone tried to kill me and I didn’t eat any of those scones, I’m going to be super pissed.”
“She’s delirious. Give her some room.”
“I am not delirious. I’m furious.” I pulled myself up, using the chain links of the cage. There was a pile of shop towels on the floor mopping up the water and the lights were out. I pointed to the shop towels. “Whose water was that?”
Everyone looked at one another like I was speaking Chinese. “I said, whose water was that!”
Aunt Ginny took my arm. “Honey, no one saw anything. Lila saw the spark and then you were thrown to the back of the cage.”
Mother Gibson helped Aunt Ginny lead me to a seat. “We turned off the power and called the rescue squad. They’re on their way.”
“I don’t need the rescue squad!” I was shouting, and there was a loud buzzing in my ears, and I smelled like bacon. I was really annoyed.
Neil came over with the first aid kit and applied ice to the back of my head. “You’re bleeding. You must have cut yourself when you hit the cage. You’ll probably need a tetanus shot.” He flinched and leaned far away from me. “Ginny?”
Aunt Ginny reappeared. “Yeah, she’s pretty mad. What do you need, honey?”
I thought for a few seconds, then gave my list of demands. “I need coffee. Not that crap in the lounge either. Someone go to Wawa and get me an extra-large medium roast with cream and sugar. And I want a sandwich. Get an Italian hoagie from the deli while you’re there.”
Mrs. Davis squatted down next to me. “Honey, you can’t have gluten, remember?”
That was not what I wanted to hear. I was about to make more demands when a very good-looking EMT gave me a smile. “What happened here?”
“I need a sandwich.”
He nodded his head. “I think she’s in shock.”
They took my vitals and wrapped me in a blanket, which I thought was stupid because I wasn’t cold. After a while, Mr. Ricardo arrived with my coffee.
“Thank you. See, you I like.”
Then he handed me a wrapped, gluten-free chocolate cupcake and my opinion of him skyrocketed. I was so excited that I announced to the room, “It’s okay! I have cake.” Cake that I shoved into my mouth, chipmunk-style. As I gnawed through the frosting, my thoughts swirled. Angry thoughts. Revengey thoughts. Thoughts of punching somebody in the throat. I know somebody messed with that light panel. Water doesn’t spill itself. I keep trying to mind my own business and these old ladies suck me back in. I’m not a cop. Why can’t they accept that? There’s not a thing I can do to bring justice for Duke, and now I’ve made somebody mad enough to try to electrocute me. I’m a nice girl. Nice girls don’t get electrocuted.
My thoughts went to Iggy and how mad he was that I’d been in his room. I’m probably the only girl who has been in that room for ages. He should have been grateful. Of course, there’s also Ernie Frick, who I cornered while he was losing money on the horse race. He threatened me, then he drank my whiskey. And the two big guys who are always down in front. I forget their names again. Fred and Barney? That sounds right. Where are they right now? And Blanche threatened me. Well, actually, she threatened Aunt Ginny. That’s okay, I’ll add her to the list anyway.
“You okay, McAllister?”
“Uhhck.” Amber.
“It’s nice to see you too.”
“I ate all the cake.”
“Uh-huh.” Amber turned and spoke with Neil and Aunt Ginny. She was holding the pink scrap of paper from the cage. “And no one saw anything strange? No one lurking around the light booth?” Aunt Ginny and Neil shook their heads and she asked them some more questions about my behavior over the past few days.
Amber crouched in front of me. “You know, you bring this on yourself. What were you and the fossil squad up to that someone would try to hurt you this time?”
“They hustled some bikers playing pool, so I gave them magazines to read.”
“Fine, don’t tell me.”
“Did you check for fingerprints?”
“Check what, McAllister?”
“The cables, the water bottle.”
Amber folded her hands together under her chin. “There is no water bottle.”
“That’s not possible. Then where did the water come from?”
Amber shrugged, then got up and rejoined Aunt Ginny and Neil.
The cute EMT came back and asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital.
“I do NOT want to go to that place.”
He smiled. “Okay. Well, I want you to take it easy for a few days. You’re very lucky. Your rubber girdle absorbed most of the shock. You’re bruised, but you’ll be okay.”
My girdle? I blew on my coffee and contemplated moving back to Waterford.
“Are you sure you’re okay, ma’am? You look pale and your eye is twitching.”
“It does that sometimes.” Like when people call me “ma’am.”
He begrudgingly agreed to let me stay and made me sign a paper saying I’d turned down his generous offer for an inflated medical bill. Everyone left me alone until I finished my coffee. Mostly because I glared at anyone who came near. I was starting to feel a little more like myself, albeit a less enthusiastic version than I was this morning. Aunt Ginny took me to the bathroom and cut my Spunks off me with craft scissors. The stomach panel had fused together like a radial tire and I smelled like the vacuum when the belt slips off the roller and overheats.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Aunt Ginny handed me a wet wipe from her purse and I rubbed it over the tread marks. “No one would blame you if you quit now. We could just leave the lights on one setting the whole time.”
“No, I’m in it with you till the end. But I don’t think those lights are going to work. Some of the cables were pulled out and stripped. I’m pretty sure that’s bad. And I’m not going back in there until it’s fixed.”
“Well.” Aunt Ginny made a face. “While you were drinking your coffee and growling at people, Iggy was rewiring the light board.”
“Say what now?”
“Didn’t you hear Fiona say he has a master’s degree in electrical engineering?”
“No. I tune out whenever Fiona mentions Iggy.”
“Apparently, he not only has it fixed, but he’s made a couple of upgrades.”
“How do we know I wasn’t just on the receiving end of one of hi
s upgrades?”
Aunt Ginny sucked in her cheeks. “We don’t know, honey.”
I marched out of the ladies’ room and found Iggy sitting at the piano. “Did you tamper with the light board because I was in your room?”
He had the nerve to look at me like I was the crazy one. “What? No. And I just fixed it for you.”
“Yeah, I heard you have a master’s degree. How do I know you aren’t the one who rigged it to electrocute me in the first place?”
Iggy gave half a laugh. “You don’t need a degree to pull wires out and pour water on them. Besides, we were both at my house all afternoon.”
“You got here before me. How long does it take to cut some wires?”
I wanted to rip into Iggy some more, but he had a master’s degree in alibis.
Neil took me by the hand and led me away. “Okay, dear. I know you’ve had a terrible shock. Oh, sorry. Poor choice of words. Are you sure you’re all right? We really need to start dress rehearsal now. Why don’t you sit in the audience until you’re ready to join us?”
Neil went to lead the actors in some warm-up exercises while I fumed from my seat. In two weeks, there had been four injuries and a death. Royce, Duke, Blanche, Aunt Ginny, and now me. If we chalked the death up to an accident or suicide, which I didn’t think it was, that was still way too many injuries to be random. The biddies were right: someone was deliberately trying to shut down the play and enough was enough. I had to figure out who was behind these accidents before they had a chance to make another one occur, or one of the biddies “investigated” the wrong place at the wrong time and had an accident of her own.
None of the seniors had any reason to want to shut down the play as far as I could tell. They’d worked too hard on it. Blanche would like to see it fail now that she wasn’t in it, but she’d been hanging out here every day hoping Aunt Ginny would get hurt so she could have her part back.
Fiona would love to have Royce stay home with her, but I didn’t think she wanted it badly enough to harm anyone. And I didn’t think she’d be able to accomplish most of the sabotage by herself.