Wicked Stage

by Michelle Dayton

  She turned off the camera, already planning to come back every half hour or so to see the room come to life. She knew the shelves would soon be filled with books and drinking glasses. Wendice’s tennis trophies and photographs would be on prominent display. Margot’s wicker sewing basket would have to go on one of the tables or the fireplace hearth.

  Webb was consulting with a group of sound technicians toward the back of the theatre. She waved at him, which he ignored. It would be a different story if the camera was in front of her face, of course.

  The testimonials were more fun than usual in the afternoon, because the actors were now in costume. Both Olive and the actor who played Halliday had trouble with their costumes for the first scene—until they realized the garment bags had been mislabeled and they’d put on their understudy’s clothes. “Thank goodness.” Olive laughed for the camera. “Of course I can’t fit into skinny Kat’s dress.”

  By late afternoon, Jess had more than enough great footage for the day’s webcast. The actors would be working well into the evening, but she didn’t have to. I’ll head on back, get this wrapped, and then dive into the voiceprint research, she thought. But then her phone rang.

  She glanced down at the screen and sighed. Drew’s cell phone. Not ideal timing, but she hadn’t talked to her baby brother in ages. No one had picked up when she called her dad’s on Christmas Day. She told herself that maybe they were all at Mass when she called, but possibly her dad was still holding a grudge and didn’t listen to her message. She hoped Drew wasn’t upset with her too.

  She stepped out into the lobby. “Hey, you.”

  “Hey yourself.” As always, Drew’s voice sounded like he was on the verge of laughter. “Did I get the time zone right? Are you finished with work?”

  She shrugged on her coat, preferring to talk with him on the anonymous streets rather than in the theatre. “Just about.”

  “Where are you staying while you’re there?” he asked.

  Not seeing any harm, she told him the name of their hotel.

  “Perfect!” Now he did laugh, loud and long. “I’ll see you there in about an hour.”

  Jess stopped moving. Hell, she stopped breathing. “What?”

  “Oh,” Drew teased. “Didn’t I mention that I was calling from Heathrow? Surprise!”

  * * *

  Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Jess paced around the hotel lobby for the sixteenth time, earning a concerned glance from the concierge.

  What was she supposed to do with Drew? Normally she’d be overjoyed to see him, but now? Five days before a risky theft? No! One day into a Hell Week where she’d be working twelve hour days? No! Shit, shit, shit.

  Drew didn’t even know about Adam.

  True to his word, her brother sailed through the revolving door of the hotel lobby almost precisely an hour from when he called. “Jessie!” His face lit up when he saw her waiting and he dropped the handle of his suitcase and dramatically threw open his arms.

  An unwilling giggle burst through her lips and she dashed over for a huge bear hug. “Hi, Drew.” He lifted her into the air and swung her around, something he’d done ever since she was sixteen, he was twelve, and he’d finally grown taller than her.

  “I cannot believe you did this,” she said, pulling back. He grinned down at her. He looked good, healthy and bursting with energy. Just over six feet tall, he was lean and wiry. He had the same wavy dark hair as she did, the same big brown eyes and dark lashes. In their late teens and early twenties, they’d often been mistaken for twins.

  He examined her face carefully and then burst out laughing again. “You’re so not happy I’m here.”

  She sighed. It was no use lying to him. He’d been her closest confidant for most of her life. He knew every facial expression she had. “I’m always happy to see you,” she said honestly. “But right here, right now...uh...things are complicated.”

  “Mm hmm,” he said. “I had a feeling.” He slung one arm around her shoulders, dragging his carry-on with the other. Then he led her straight to the pub next door.

  Perched on a bar stool, he ordered them each a bourbon before meeting her eyes and waving an index finger in her face. “Let’s recap, shall we? A year ago you were Ms. Mopey, living on my sofa in Sarasota, having just been fired and embarrassed. I still have the Tribune article where they called you ‘amoral’ framed, by the way.” She snorted. “Then, in March, you hustled your vigilante self back to Chicago with some sort of crazy plan to get justice.”

  He paused to take a gulp of his drink. “How am I doing so far?”

  She shrugged. Pretty good, actually. She’d been determined to find out who set her up and she was willing to break the rules to do it. That little walk on the wild side had been how she met Adam.

  Drew went on. “In your cinema-worthy takedown of a crooked mob-involved businessman, you managed to get yourself shot.” He glared at her. “I still haven’t forgiven you for taking those years off my life, by the way.”

  She laughed. She didn’t much like getting shot herself, but diving in front of the bullet meant for Adam had saved his life. She’d do it again in a heartbeat.

  “Next thing I know—” Drew sniffed “—you tell Dad you’re going to recover from your injury at some cottage in Wisconsin with girlfriends. I’m calling bullshit on that.”

  Jess looked down and took a sip of bourbon.

  Drew leaned closer and stage-whispered, “We both know that I’m your closest girlfriend, Jess. Liar liar, pants on fire.”

  “Liar liar, pants of fire?” She laughed and raised an eyebrow. “Very mature.”

  He raised a mirror eyebrow right back at her. “Maturity? Not something I’m often accused of. Where were we? Oh yes, with you lying and vanishing. Since last summer, you’ve been out of Chicago, traveling around, doing some sort of—” he lifted his hands and formed finger quotes “—consulting work.”

  He slurped his drink and clapped his hands together. “There’s only one thing that makes sense, Jessie.” He waggled both eyebrows now. “There’s a man.”

  She paused, not seeing any way around telling Drew about Adam. Besides, she was in love. She wanted to talk about it to her best friend. Her lips curved up. “Fine. There’s a man.”

  Triumphant, Drew leaned closer. “I knew it. Now, be honest. Is he my type?”

  Jess pictured Adam’s chiseled face and broad shoulders. “He’s everybody’s type.”

  “Well, well, well.” Drew smacked his bourbon glass against hers. “Cheers to that. Can’t wait to meet him.” His teasing face straightened to an earnest stare. “Is it the real-deal love and all that?”

  She swallowed, hard, but didn’t look away. “Yes. It’s...everything.”

  His face softened. “Wow.”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  Drew cleared his throat. “Well, now, you’re gonna make me cry.” He crossed his arms over his chest and re-assumed his investigating tone. “That’s part of the answer then. On to why all the mystery? Why haven’t you introduced him to anyone? And where’ve you been? What’s happened to my workaholic ‘I love Chicago’ sister?”

  Jess paused again. God, how was she supposed to answer this? Drew knew her too well to believe vague lies. Plus, she’d never lied to him before and she didn’t want to start now. She wanted to tell him everything, the whole truth. She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye. “I want to talk to you about it. I really do. But, Drew, you can never tell anyone else. Ever. I’ll tell you what’s going on with me, but it’s a secret you need to take to the grave.”

  He rolled his eyes and opened his mouth.

  “No, Drew,” she said sharply. “Think about this. You can never tell a boyfriend or anyone else in our family. It’s that important.”

  All of the teasing and the silliness disappeared from
his face. “You don’t need to spell it out,” he said quietly. “If it’s your secret, I’d keep it.”

  She laid a hand over his on the bar. “I know.”

  “Let me in. I’ve missed you, Jess.” He glanced down and shrugged. “To tell the truth, I’ve been feeling a little abandoned.”

  Jess squeezed his hand, a knot of guilt twisting in her stomach. She’d completely disappeared in the last six months. Too caught up in Adam and the jobs. But that couldn’t last forever. If she still wanted to be close with Drew, he had to know about her new life.

  She made up her mind. “OK. Let me start at the beginning, when I went back to Chicago last March.”

  * * *

  It was after midnight when Adam got back to the hotel that night. His blue eyes were half-closed, evidence of the exhausting day of rehearsals and acting both on-and offstage. But they still brightened when they saw her awake and perched on the edge of the bed. “I thought you’d be sleeping.”

  Nope. She’d actually been sitting there since jet lag had claimed Drew and sent him to sleep in a room of his own a few floors down. She’d whipped up the day’s webcast in record time and then just stewed, stomach churning, preparing for the inevitable fight with Adam. He was going to be furious with her for telling Drew everything.

  “H-hi,” she stammered.

  “What’s wrong?” Adam sat down next to her, eyes narrowed. “Something with Webb?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing related to the job.” She closed her eyes. Best to just blurt it out quickly. Rip off that Band-Aid. “Andrew’s here. In the hotel. He flew into London as a surprise and to find out why I’ve been so MIA lately.”

  She opened one eye to see how Adam was taking it so far. His eyes were now wide and his jaw was clenched. Not good. She shut her eye and kept going. “I told him everything. About us and about our partnership and the jobs.”

  She wanted to peek again, but fear kept her lids tightly closed. “You’re probably furious and I’m sorry. I know it’s valid for you to be pissed because another person knowing about you is a risk. But I’m asking you to trust me that Drew won’t ever expose you. Not now and not in future, no matter what happens with us.”

  She started talking quicker, stumbling a bit over the words. “I would never tell anyone else about this. Just him. I can’t lose him by lying or telling him half-truths—”

  “Of course you can’t,” Adam said.

  Huh? He didn’t sound mad. At all. Surprise popped her eyes open.

  Adam was watching her face with an expression that was a combination of weariness and humor. “I know what Andrew means to you, Jess. I’d never ask you to give him up.”

  Relief clogged her throat. “I thought you’d be so angry.”

  He shrugged and smiled. “I felt a little flash of fury, I won’t lie. But I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said in Chicago. About wanting us to be real.”

  He put a hand on her ankle. “Watching you develop a relationship with Tony has been incredible for me. For a long time, before I met you and when Tony was in jail, I wasn’t close to anyone. Now I have you, I have him back, and the two of you are building your own thing.” He paused to swallow. “It’s more than I ever...well.” He cocked his head. “How could I deny you the same thing with Andrew?”

  She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her face into his neck. The tension she’d been carrying for hours left her body so quickly she felt limp. “I love you. Thank you for understanding.”

  He held her tightly. Then, to her surprise, he circled back to something she’d blurted out. “What did you mean, ‘no matter what happens with us’?”

  She sighed against his neck. “I meant that even if...you know...we didn’t make it in the long haul... Drew still wouldn’t tell anyone. His discretion isn’t dependent on us being a couple.”

  He stiffened and pushed her away. “Now I am getting a little pissed.”

  Jess blinked. He wasn’t kidding. His face had turned to stone. “Hey,” she whispered, pulling him back against her. Was it wrong that she kind of liked that this was what made him mad? “I can’t imagine a future for me without you in it, OK? But we haven’t really talked about...uh...long term stuff. I just wanted you to know that no matter what, all of your secrets are safe with me.”

  A moment of silence. Some of the stiffness receded from his muscles. Finally, Adam tipped up her chin and kissed her hard on the lips. Over and over, bending her backward onto the bed. When he paused, hovering above her, she opened her eyes. He stroked her cheek, ran a thumb over her bottom lip. “When this job is behind us, Blondie, we’re going to have a talk about that ‘long term stuff.’”

  Chapter Eleven

  Two days before the dress rehearsal, they had a midnight meeting at Tony’s apartment. Adam watched, bemused, as Jess proudly introduced Drew to Tony, Frank and Jonno. If any of the men thought it odd for Jess to be so open about their little team of thieves, at least they hid it well.

  In the limited amount of time Adam had spent with Drew so far, it was easy to see why he and Jess were so close. In some ways, Drew reminded Adam a little of Tyler Ryan. Half his personality was “happy puppy”—he bounded around with endless energy and curiosity. But the other half was snarky and witty and sarcastic. He was quick and quippy and clearly shared some of Jess’s brilliant DNA.

  Also, there was no way Adam could be anything less than thrilled about Drew’s appearance because it made Jess so damn happy. For a moment, he wished the whole crew could just meander down to a pub and share a relaxing or raucous night on the town.

  Not tonight though. They had a problem to solve.

  He waited until there was a pause in the group’s chatter before loudly pulling a chair away from the table and sitting in it—a clear segue to the “work” discussion. “We’ve got a problem,” he said. Tony, Frank and Jonno joined him at the table. Jess and Drew perched on stools next to the small breakfast bar.

  Tony groaned. “You too? Shit. We’ve got a bit of a situation ourselves.”

  Adam sighed, not surprised. It was fairly typical for last minute issues to arise. “Yours first. What’s up?”

  Jonno spoke, looking down at the table. “I’m out,” he said. “My daughter’s eight months pregnant and she called today. There are some complications. I’m goin’ home to be with her.” He looked up briefly at everyone and then down at the table again. “Sorry for lettin’ you guys down.”

  Jess stood and went over to give him a one-armed hug. “Of course you need to be there for your daughter. Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. You’re doing the absolute right thing.”

  Across the table, Adam met eyes with Tony. He was fairly sure his uncle was thinking the same thing. “We’ll miss you, Jonno,” he said sincerely. “But it’s not a deal-breaker. Unlike the Cotswolds estate which is large enough and unknown enough to force a two man job, I can do the Webb town house on my own. It’s a small house, I’ve been in it before and I know where the panic room is. If I have no problem with the exterior entry on dress rehearsal night, I can do it on my own.”

  Tony relaxed and nodded. Jess frowned a little, but she didn’t argue.

  Jonno stood. “Best of luck to all. I’m takin’ the train to the airport. Gonna buy my way onto the first flight out.”

  He shuffled to the back of the apartment to pack. Tony cracked his neck. “What’s the other problem?”

  Jess flipped open her laptop. “It’s with the voiceprint.” She beamed at her brother. “Drew helped me figure out how it’s working.”

  Drew puffed out his chest. “I’m a real estate agent in Florida,” he explained. “Several of my recent clients installed panic rooms with biometric security.”

  Jess displayed a folder with all of the audio samples taken from the recording device ou
tside the town house’s panic room. “So far, we have samples of four different phrases that Webb has said to open the door. They’re all famous quotes from Shakespeare. For awhile, I was assuming that he just had a certain number of acceptable phrases and we would be able to use a recording of any of them.” Tony and Frank nodded, following along.

  She blew out a breath through her nose. “But we no longer think that’s what’s happening. Drew noticed that the one phrase we’ve heard him use twice—the one from Julius Caesar—both happened on a Tuesday.”

  Drew piped in. “So now we think that the phrase is particular to a day of the week. He does Macbeth on Monday and Julius Caesar on Tuesday, Hamlet on Wednesday, blah blah blah. We can’t be entirely sure, of course, because he hasn’t accessed the panic room on every day of the week. For example, he hasn’t accessed the panic room on a Sunday.”

  “Which is the big problem,” Adam finished. “New Year’s Eve, Opening Night, is a Sunday and right now we don’t have the right phrase.”

  “Our only hope is for Webb to access the panic room earlier in the day on New Year’s Eve so we’ll have the phrase ready for that night,” Jess said. “But that’s a pretty big hole.”

  Drew said, “So we need to think of a reason to make him open the panic room that morning so we can record the right phrase.”

  Jess and Adam exchanged amused glances. Drew certainly didn’t waste any time in jumping in as an adhoc team member.

  “We gotta use the little brat again, right?” Tony asked.

  Adam had been thinking the same thing. Katrina was really the only option that made sense. “Yeah. We need to give her a good reason to ask Webb to get something out of the panic room for her that day.”