Theater Nights Are Murder

by Libby Klein

  I looked around. “I would say he was right on.”

  “I wanted to ask your opinion. Does that note sound like my dad to you?”

  I felt an uncomfortable knot form in the pit of my stomach. We had run down every lead we could find, and all signs pointed to Duke’s death being suicide. I couldn’t lie, but I also didn’t want to give her false hope either. “To be honest, I didn’t know your dad. But the couple of times I talked with him, he was very excited about Kevin’s visit. He had written a play and he wanted Kevin to see him perform it.”

  Kevin was focused on the floor, but I thought I saw a drop of water fall to his feet.

  “He clearly loved his grandson very much, and I know he was proud of him.”

  Abby’s face lit up with thanks. “He and Kevin had a pretty special relationship. Dad regretted not getting to see me grow up all those years he was on the force. Kevin was his second chance.”

  Kevin looked up and I gave him a smile. “He wanted to show you the play he’d written about his time on the force.”

  Abby laughed. “Oh, we know all about it. Dad has been regaling us with his true crime stories ever since he retired a few years ago. I had to tell him to cut back on the grisly murders and riots and stick to the safe topics, like robbery and breaking and entering.”

  “I was under the impression that Duke was mainly on the vice squad, arresting gamblers and smugglers.”

  “Oh no. He was on vice for about twenty years, but he started out as a beat cop and got called into whatever crime happened in his jurisdiction. He used to obsess over this one robbery in 1963: First Bank of Sea Isle. He called it the one that got away. They never caught the two guys that did it and they made off with a half a million dollars. I bet it’s in his play.”

  I stared at her for a long minute.

  “Are you okay?” she asked me.

  I nodded absently.

  Sawyer placed her hand on my back. “What is it?”

  “I think we know why Duke was killed.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  I left the theater early and went home to search for Duke’s script. Aunt Ginny had thrown hers in the trash, but mine had to be around here somewhere. Unless Aunt Ginny had destroyed it. Or Mrs. Galbraith had thrown it out. Or Figaro. Figaro could have done any number of things with it. My eyes were burning. I can’t keep getting up early to exercise and make breakfast, then stay up late. I finally had to concede that tomorrow was another day. I made sure the porch light was on for Aunt Ginny. That car was still out there. I was beginning to think it was abandoned. I made a mental note to call and have it towed away in the morning. Then Fig and I went up to bed. I decided not to work out in the morning and set my alarm for an hour and a half later. I was beyond exhausted and no one wants puffy eyes on Valentine’s Day. I stretched out on the bed toward all four corners, something that was just starting to not feel lonely, and Figaro curled up in the crook of my neck and purred me to sleep.

  I woke up before the alarm with him curled into my back. It was such a small thing, but it brought me great joy. “Do you want a Valentine’s Day treat?”

  Figaro worshipped the treats. As long as they had no nutritional value, weren’t a disguised health supplement to clean his teeth or dissolve hairballs, or had a pill stuffed into them. I felt him stretch and meow. He started to purr before I could get the bag in my hand. I fed him a couple while telling him what a pretty boy he was. “You’re my fluffy valentine, aren’t you?” He gave me a tolerant look while chomping the shrimp nugget on one side of his mouth. I left him a few more on the nightstand and went to get ready for my day.

  I was giddy. There was a surge of excitement flowing through me like it was Christmas. I pulled up a YouTube tutorial on Valentine’s Day makeup. I wanted to look beautiful and romantic today, like I just stepped off a magazine shoot. I followed the instructions exactly. When we were done, the presenter looked like the spokeswomen for celebrity makeup and I looked like a Disney villain. I washed it all off and started over with a much more reasonable goal. Namely, don’t look like the sea witch.

  Today was going to be special. I pulled on black pants—real pants. Pants with a zipper and buttons. There was a lot of spandex, but it still counted. I’d finally discovered the secret to getting pants to fit: buy bigger pants. I topped off the outfit with a wine-colored, flowy tunic and black heels that I would regret wearing by ten. Change in plans: I took off the heels and put on flats. I only wear heels when I want to impress someone. I left the room, then came back in and grabbed the heels because you never knew.

  Aunt Ginny was in the kitchen, working her way through a valentine box of Russell Stover. She was wearing a dark red swing dress and red bedroom slippers. I walked over and gave her a hug.

  “What’s that for?”

  “I just love you.”

  “I already ate all the caramels.”

  “That’s okay. Where’d you get that?”

  “The biddies and I went to the VFW last night. They were giving them out to all the ladies.”

  “The biddies?” I reached for the coffee beans and tried to act cool. “Who might that be?”

  Aunt Ginny took out a dark chocolate ball. “We know you call us ‘the biddies.’ Thelma thinks it should be our gang sign. We’re having jackets made.”

  I started the water and opened a can of tuna for Fig, who was putting on the full-court press. “My sweet boy gets a special breakfast today.”

  “What are we having?”

  “You’re having an insulin shot. I’m making strawberry cheesecake pancakes with heart-shaped sausage patties and heart-shaped lobster quiches.”

  The front door opened and the three biddies chattered their way down the hall. I made a fist and gave them a peace sign over my heart and they returned it. “Good morning, everyone. What brings you here so early?”

  “Ginny invited us for breakfast.”

  I cut my eyes to Aunt Ginny.

  “Did I forget to mention that?”

  The kettle whistled and I poured the water over the coffee grounds while the ladies filled me in on the events of last night after I left. They’d stayed up until the wee hours, reminiscing and talking about what might have been.

  Aunt Ginny poured cream into her coffee. “One thing I know, Royce wasn’t going to marry me either way. He had a roving eye and big dreams that didn’t involve me or staying in town.”

  Mrs. Dodson took a sip of her coffee. “I just wish it hadn’t been me. I was intoxicated by his charm and his good looks and I let myself believe there were real emotions behind his flattery.”

  Mrs. Davis held her coffee cup aloft. “Well, we’ve all been there.”

  The biddies joined in the toast and I lifted my cup along with them. I got an email response from Dr. Melinda. Her encouragement was to focus on the real issue, my health and not my looks. Plbbt! I read part of the message out loud. “ ‘There is a lot more to weight loss than the medical community understands, and they now know that the old calorie/exercise model is outdated and doesn’t fit every circumstance.’ ”

  The ladies raised their mugs and we toasted again. Dr. Melinda wanted me to make an appointment for some time next week. I added that to my mental to-do list.

  The front door chimed just as I was putting the heart-shaped pans of lobster quiche in the oven. Sawyer dragged herself around the corner looking like someone who’d won the lottery but lost the ticket. “What’s wrong. Didn’t you get your valentine gift of the day?”

  Sawyer dropped onto the stool at the island. “I got it.”

  Aunt Ginny poured Sawyer the last cup of coffee. “Was it something terrible?”

  Mrs. Davis lowered her eyes. “Was it dirty? Is that the problem?”

  Sawyer shook her head. “No. It was a dozen roses and an engagement ring.”

  We all yelled in surprise. “An engagement ring? Adrian proposed?”

  Tears welled up in Sawyer’s eyes. “Not Adrian. You were right. The gifts were from my neig
hbor, Mr. Vartabedian. He needs a green card or they’re going to send him back to Bulgaria.” Fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” I put my hand on her shoulder and rubbed her back. “Did you say yes?”

  Sawyer jerked her eyes to me and her mouth flopped open. I started to giggle. She tried to keep a straight face, but the biddies started tittering and she let out a snicker.

  We laughed for a good ten minutes. When we finally calmed down, Sawyer said, “Adrian thinks I’ve been cheating on him with Mr. Vartabedian.” And we all started up again.

  I had met Sawyer’s neighbor once when she was out of town and I went to pick up her mail. He was about ninety pounds and a hundred years old, with a shock of white hair that stood straight up on top of his head, and he smelled like cabbage and boiled eggs.

  When we calmed down for the second time, Sawyer picked up her coffee and said, “Did you know there’s a bathroom scale on the front lawn?” That was all we needed to start laughing again. No one else knew why it was funny, but we laughed anyway.

  Georgina waltzed into the kitchen wearing a white dress with a red scarf covered in hearts tied around her neck. “What’s so funny?” That set us off a fourth time.

  While I made the pancakes, I told everyone about my talk with Duke’s daughter last night and my suspicions that there was something in Duke’s script that got him killed. No one had seen my copy of the script, but Mother Gibson said she thought hers was home on her dresser. “I’ll look for it when I get back and bring it tonight.”

  Sawyer poured us both another cup of coffee. “What are you doing today? Do you want to go for coffee? After we have this coffee.” Sawyer held up her cup.

  Her audacious wantonness with coffee was one of the many things I loved about her. So we made plans to go out that afternoon to cheer ourselves up from our lack of weight loss and appropriate male suitors. Then everyone helped me with breakfast. And when I say helped, I mean they got in the way and ate like they were at Benny’s all-you-can-eat buffet.

  Mrs. Galbraith let us know she did not approve of Figaro’s official orange companion vest being blinged out with rhinestone hearts, and she did not approve of him being in the dining room while the guests were eating. I peeked through the door and saw Figaro standing on his hind legs and pawing at Chigsie’s very expensive sport coat, trying to coerce some sausage from him.

  I was about to retrieve the pest when a loud banging on the front door interrupted me. “Who in the world is that?” The biddies and Sawyer followed me into the hall to see what the commotion was about.

  “Police, open up.”

  I threw the door open to find Amber on my porch flanked by two officers I didn’t know. “What’s going on?”

  She handed me a search warrant. “I need to look around.”

  “Oh look, one more visit and you get a free hoagie. What could you possibly want in my house?”

  “We’ve been on the trail of a couple of art thieves and I have reason to believe they’re staying here.”

  “I don’t have any art thieves here.”

  Mrs. Galbraith stepped forward. “Now wait a minute, Poppy. I told you things were missing from the Swallowtail suite.” She jerked her eyes in the direction of the parlor, where Joey and Val were stock-still in the doorway, watching.

  “Yeah, but . . .”

  Amber cut me off. “Were you aware that many of the homes in this neighborhood have been robbed over the past three weeks?”

  Aunt Ginny hollered from the back of the foyer, “It wasn’t me!”

  Amber stepped inside and the officers took off, one up the stairs and one down the hall. “We’ve been following the thieves since the APB came out of Rehoboth that they were heading this way. They’ve been hitting B&Bs up and down the East Coast for months. All reported small, expensive antiques missing.”

  “How did you know they were staying here?”

  “We’ve been staking out the whole neighborhood.”

  I looked outside at the car across the street. “Is that why that’s been there?”

  Amber’s commanding facade slipped and she snapped at me. “Yeah, and you almost blew the whole op with that ridiculous blanket.”

  “Well, you should have told me.”

  “It’s called undercover, McAllister!”

  Officer Consuelos, who hadn’t been on the porch when I opened the door, came up the steps with Bunny Ainsworth in handcuffs. “She climbed out the upstairs window and jumped from the drainpipe. I caught her when she tripped over a bathroom scale lying in the yard.”

  One of the other officers was coming down the steps behind Chigsie, who was also in handcuffs. Chigsie was bleeding from a cut on his forehead. The officer met my stare. “He tripped over the cat.”

  Figaro trotted down the steps and tried to trip Chigsie again. The third officer went up and brought down a shopping bag full of jewelry and stolen antiques—and my expensive new bathrobes—and Amber read the pair their rights.

  Mrs. Galbraith stood off to the side, shamefaced, wringing her hands in her uniform apron. Aunt Ginny started poking through the bag and Officer Consuelos had to tell her to stop before she contaminated the evidence.

  Bunny lost her refined demeanor and had a few artful phrases for Amber. Needless to say, she denied having any knowledge of the events and blamed it all on Chigsie.

  Chigsie said he didn’t take anything; it was all done by Bunny.

  Amber silenced them. “I saw you both with my own eyes when you came back from robbing the Queen Victoria.” Then she turned to me. “They set up guided tours of prospective marks to check out the security and valuables. Then Bunny excuses herself to use the bathroom, and while she’s alone, she stashes the items in a giant purse.”

  While Amber was postulating on how brilliant she was to unravel the crime, Figaro was pawing at Chigsie’s coat. Chigsie couldn’t do anything in handcuffs, so he shook his leg at Fig. “Get off me, you stupid cat.”

  Figaro’s claw got stuck and he ripped a hole in the lining. Aunt Ginny’s antique silver candy dish fell out and landed at Figaro’s feet.

  Aunt Ginny pointed at the sport coat. “I think there’s your giant purse.”

  Mrs. Galbraith was so upset, she had to sit down on the steps. Aunt Ginny smacked Chigsie’s hand. “How dare you steal from me, you heathen!”

  Amber flushed a little pink and said she had to get them down to the station for processing. Officer Consuelos was staying to collect statements and go through each room looking for evidence.

  I snuggled Figaro, who wasn’t the least bit interested in being snuggled. He still had sausage on the brain. Mrs. Galbraith apologized to Joey and Val for jumping to conclusions. They took it in stride. Joey said, “I thought it was weird when I came out of the shower and found Bunny in our room. She said she must have got the rooms mixed up. I thought she was trying to see me naked.”

  Val took his hand. “That broad would have to go through me first.” Only she didn’t say “broad.”

  After a while, the biddies left to take naps. They wanted to be fresh for their big surprise ending since they didn’t get to do it last night. Sawyer and I cleaned up the dining room.

  Aunt Ginny said she was feeling poorly and too full to help, so she flopped in a dramatic pose on the settee in the front parlor. Then she overheard me telling Sawyer I was meeting Gia for a special coffee date in less than an hour. “Sawyer, tell Poppy she has to choose between Tim and Gia. No one likes a love triangle.”

  Sawyer raised her eyebrows.

  I hollered back, “I’ve only been home six months!”

  “Who can’t decide in six months?”

  “Besides, no one said anything about love. It’s not a love triangle. It’s more of a make-out triangle. Oh wait. That sounds worse.”

  Sawyer grinned but made no comment.

  Aunt Ginny was full of advice from her fainting couch. “If you learned anything from me last night, it’s that men are not worth ge
tting giddy over. Don’t let a man cause drama in your life.”

  Someone rang the doorbell and Aunt Ginny used all the energy she’d recovered in the past three minutes and popped up before Sawyer and I could get over there to answer it. Royce stood on the front step with a dozen roses in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other. “Please forgive me, Ginger. I was such a fool.”

  Aunt Ginny’s hand flew up to her throat. “Oh, Royce. Well, I don’t know. You hurt me pretty bad, not to mention Edith.”

  “I’ll make amends with Edith, but you can hardly hold me accountable for leaving when I didn’t know about the baby.”

  “Well, that’s true enough.”

  Aunt Ginny took the roses and chocolates from Royce and handed them to me and Sawyer.

  Royce took Aunt Ginny’s hand. “Alas, my fair one, the course of true love never did run smooth.”

  Aunt Ginny tittered. Her eyes met mine and she shut it down.

  “Come to brunch with me?” Royce pleaded.

  I piped up on Aunt Ginny’s behalf. “She’s way too full and feeling kinda poorly.”

  Aunt Ginny tittered “Poppy, you’re such a kidder. I’m fine.” She shot me some daggers, then turned sweetness and light back to Royce. “I’d love to go to brunch. Let me get my wrap.” She reached up and took her white wool wrap off the coat stand. Royce helped her into it and led her out the door. She poked her head back in before she shut it. “Do what you want with the men . . . and don’t eat my chocolate!”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  “Keep a special eye on Figaro. Ever since he found that candy dish he’s been unusually good.” Figaro was sitting pretty on the steps, watching me get my coat. He hadn’t tried to stalk me, swat me, or wriggle out of his vest once since Amber left. “If that isn’t proof that he’s up to something, I don’t know what is.”