by Laura DeLuca
“Hey.” He peeked at her from the corner of his eye with a silly smirk on his face. “We’re married.”
Rebecca laughed, but the idea hadn’t completely sunk in with her yet either. “I know. Sort of strange, isn’t it? I don’t feel any different.”
“That’s because it hasn’t been consummated.” Justyn winked, and Rebecca felt her cheeks flame. When he turned more serious, it only made her heart flutter with unrequited passion even more. “Becca, this is the first day of the rest of our lives together. We really are partners in every way possible now.”
“Yes,” Rebecca whispered. “And the ceremony couldn’t have been more beautiful, Justyn. You and Darlene did an amazing job putting everything together so quickly. I don’t think things could have been more perfect even if we had stuck to the original plan and spent two years and thousands of dollars on a big fancy wedding.”
Justyn nodded. “I originally felt like I was letting you down, but you’re right. We get all the pomp and circumstance we need with the characters we play on the stage. For the people we are in our real lives, this simple service with only our closest friends and family was much more fitting.”
“Exactly,” Rebecca agreed.
Rebecca and Justyn spent the rest of the ride chatting about the handfasting. The whole time they drove, Rebecca half expected Carmen to pull up beside them and start revving the engine for a drag race. But while there were tons of cars heading into Cape May, Rebecca didn’t catch a glimpse of their friends the whole way there. There was still no sign of them when they pulled into the city parking lot. Rebecca figured they must have gotten a larger head start than she realized. It felt strange walking to the theater without Carmen and Tom, and Rebecca found herself loitering in the parking lot in case they were about to turn the corner.
“We can’t wait for them all day,” Justyn told her, reading her thoughts. “They’ll catch up, but we should head over there. Fernando will have a nervous breakdown if the guests start showing up before we do. So come along, Mrs. Patko. Let’s get a move on.”
“That’s Mrs. Hope hyphen Patko, if you don’t mind,” Rebecca reminded him.
Rebecca allowed Justyn to guide her across the pebbled walkway, but she couldn’t help peering over her shoulder one last time. Both Carmen and Tom were fast drivers, and Justyn was too nervous to go even a mile over the speed limit after his recent trouble with the law. Normally, even with the head start, they would have beaten them to Cape May. It seemed odd their friends hadn’t arrived yet. Rebecca started having visions of popped tires and car crashes, but she told herself she was being her usual paranoid self. Knowing Carmen, she had probably stopped at some adult shop along the way to surprise Rebecca with some novelty item such as edible panties or flavored lubricants to help make her wedding night more interesting.
The silly thought made Rebecca smile, and by the time the familiar steeple-like towers of Tamilio’s came into view, she had forgotten all about her anxiety. Fernando’s car was already parked in his regular spot, and when they tried the door, they discovered it was unlocked. Inside they found the newly promoted head chef who had taken Albert’s place wiping his hands on an apron. He gave them a curt nod as he shoved a rack of lamb inside the industrial-sized stove, but he didn’t say a word. Most of the kitchen staff still treated them like they had the plague. Rebecca ignored him. She wasn’t about to let his unfriendly attitude ruin her special day.
As they continued moving down the corridor that led to the dining room, Rebecca heard voices in the distance that only grew louder as they approached Fernando’s office. The door was wide open, so it was hard to ignore the fact there was an argument in progress. So much for peace and good vibes on their wedding day. Already, trouble was brewing at Tamilio’s. It made Rebecca wonder if having the reception there was such a good idea after all.
“Pay day is Friday, Steve.” Fernando said, his tone firm. “Today is Monday. You’ll have to wait for your next check like everyone else.”
“I need the money now.” Rebecca peeked into the room in time to see Steve slam his fist against Fernando’s desk. The vibration shook the picture frames. It was obvious Steve had to force himself to calm down before he continued, “Can’t you give me a loan? You can take it from my check next week. Please … Fernando, if I don’t have the money by tomorrow, they’re going to take my car. Petya has no idea this is happening. It could cost me my marriage. My whole life will go down the shitter.”
Fernando shook his head. “I’m sorry you’re having troubles, Steven, but even if I wanted to help you, the restaurant is closed, and I don’t leave that kind of cash lying around.”
“Bull shit!” Steve didn’t bother to control his temper any longer. With one swipe of his hand, all of Fernando’s papers went flying. With the muscles straining behind his white wife-beater, he made a foreboding presence compared to the short middle-aged man he was having a faceoff with. “I know you have a safe here. I should just—”
“You should just stop right there,” Justyn interrupted, unable to stand silently anymore. He stepped into Fernando’s office with his arms crossed. His pierced eyebrow rose in concern. “Is everything okay, Fernando?”
Steve shot Justyn a look that sent chills down Rebecca’s spine. “Don’t you two ever learn to mind your own damn business?”
“Everything’s fine,” Fernando insisted. “I believe Steve was just leaving … while he still has a job.”
“Yeah, I’m leaving. But don’t think I’ll forget about this, Fernando. You can splurge for a party for some kids who were here for one summer without a second thought. But when a loyal employee like me who’s been here ten years asks for help, you blow me off? Man, that’s just wrong.”
Steve shook his head and shoved Justyn on his way out the door. Rebecca was sure her husband would have reciprocated had she not been clinging to his arm.
“Let it go, Steve,” Fernando warned. “Don’t push me too far.”
“Push you too far.” Steve snorted. “I’m the one who’s been pushed to the limit because of these brats you had to hire. But you just wait. You’ll be sorry.” He eyed each one of them in turn. “You’ll all be sorry.”
Chapter Thirty
“I’m so sorry about that.” Fernando dabbed the sweat from his forehead as he led them into the dining room. “That was the last thing you two needed to deal with on your wedding day. I can’t believe Steve would behave so horribly.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Rebecca assured him. “We’ve dealt with worse in the last few weeks.”
Justyn rolled his eyes. “You can say that again.”
“Well, let’s hope things turn around for you now,” Fernando encouraged, then added, “Say, where are Tom and Carmen? I was expecting you to all arrive together like you normally do.”
Fernando peered over their shoulders as though he hoped Tom and Carmen might somehow magically appear there. Rebecca could only assume he was worried he would be shorthanded if they failed to show up. Justyn was quick to quell his fears.
“They must have taken a detour. Or maybe they’re stuck in rush-hour traffic.” Justyn shrugged. “It could be pretty much anything with those two. But don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll be here any minute. They wouldn’t bail on us.”
That settled Fernando down, and he was smiling again when they arrived at the double doors of the theater. The large room seemed eerily empty with neither cast nor audience to fill the vast space. The lights were dimmed, the large velvet curtain closed, and the silence so complete Rebecca was certain she could hear the ocean waves breaking even through the thick walls. It gave her a chill for reasons she couldn’t quite explain. However, once they were inside the dining room, Rebecca found the three of them weren’t entirely alone. Victoria was already busy folding linen napkins and laying out place settings. She gave them a shy half-smile and adjusted the spaghetti straps on her dress when she noticed their approach. Rebecca left Justyn with Fernando to discuss seating arrangements and
headed over to help Victoria, glad to have the chance to talk to her alone.
“I was wonderin’ if anyone else was gonna show,” Victoria teased. “Thought maybe I’d get stuck doing all the work myself.”
“No, we would never do that to you,” Rebecca promised before grabbing a few napkins of her own to fold. When Victoria didn’t say anything else, Rebecca continued, “I was surprised to see you at the ceremony today. It means a lot to me that you came. Especially considering everything you’re going through. And now you’re helping with the reception too? You’re a good friend, Victoria. Thank you.”
Victoria concentrated on her cloth origami, but her cheeks were touched with pink. “Aw, it’s no big deal. Gotta stay on my new teacher’s good side, you know? Darlene woulda never let me forget it if I didn’t go.”
Rebecca snickered. “Yeah, Darlene doesn’t make it easy for anyone to say no, even when they want to. I hope she didn’t strong-arm you.”
“Nah, I wanted to be there.” Then, still embarrassed, Victoria announced, “I’m all out of napkins. I’m gonna run out to the linen closet and grab a few more. Be back in a sec.”
Rebecca watched her go, confused by Victoria’s dual personalities. One minute she acted like they were best friends and the next she was cold and detached. She assumed the Latina was one of those enigmas she would never figure out entirely. Victoria smiled as she ambled away, but Rebecca had the distinct feeling she was trying to avoid being alone with her. It was like Victoria couldn’t get away from her fast enough. Rebecca wondered if she blamed Justyn for Albert’s death, like everyone else did. Of course, if that were the case, why would she put in an appearance at the wedding or offer to help with the reception?
“Justyn.” The sound of Fernando’s voice snapped Rebecca out of her reverie even though he wasn’t speaking to her. “Why don’t you head down to the cellar and grab a few bottles of wine? A few red, a few white. Some dry, some sweet. Toward the back on the right-hand side you’ll also find champagne. We want to have a decent selection of spirits for your guests, even if the bride and groom both abstain. And speaking of spirits, let’s hope Mrs. Hamilton behaves herself today.”
“I wouldn’t mind if Grace made an appearance,” Rebecca said with a light laugh. “She’s been nicer to me than most of our co-workers.”
“Becca actually saw Grace when she was stuck in the freezer the other day,” Justyn revealed. “It seems the doctor’s wife has developed a fondness for my new bride.”
Fernando guffawed a little too loudly and shook his head. Despite being the owner of the building, he appeared to be one of the only people on the staff who didn’t really believe in the ghost. He always found more plausible excuses for Grace’s mischief, and even though he had brought her up, he was ready to move on. Or maybe it was the talk of the freezer incident that made him suddenly seem so jittery.
“Yes, well the live guests are my only concern at the moment,” Fernando told them. “So, Justyn, why don’t you go ahead and fetch that wine?”
“Sure thing, Fernando.”
Justyn winked at her before jogging out of the dining room, and Rebecca felt her heart flutter again. She admired his firm derriere until it disappeared around a corner. She almost wished the reception were over already so they could head to the hotel suite for their brief honeymoon and celebrate their new marriage more privately. That sounded like more fun than catering to family and friends for hours. Rebecca only tore her gaze away from the doorway and turned back to Fernando when her boss cleared his throat and gave her a nervous chuckle. He shifted his weight, and Rebecca had the distinct feeling he was uncomfortable being alone with her. He glanced down at his watch.
“It’s after four already,” he declared. “I should go unlock the front doors in case anyone stumbles in a little early. We wouldn’t want people to think they have the wrong establishment.”
Fernando was gone before she had time to agree or disagree. Suddenly, Rebecca found herself alone in the huge theater room. It appeared much larger when it was so barren, and certainly a lot creepier. The closed curtain on the stage shifted ever so slightly, even though there was no breeze, and Rebecca wondered if Grace was making her presence known. The thought of her friendly ghost was a lot less intimidating than the other visions running through her head. With the lights so low and the room unbearably silent, it was hard not to think back to the night of her debut performance. She could almost hear the creak of Wendy’s body swinging on the rafters. She could practically see Scott’s vacant eyes staring back at her after she slipped down the trap door during the dress rehearsal of Demon Barber.
Rebecca shook her head to try to still the terrible memories. The past was the past, and this was her wedding day! She should be thinking about her future with Justyn, not about ancient history and especially not about—
“Muuuuurdeeerrrr!”
Rebecca practically jumped out of her skin when the music erupted from the surround sound speakers. It was so loud she had to cover her ears, but even that didn’t block the appalling refrain. Murder from Hyde continued to blast across the dining room, so loudly the wine glasses on the tables started to rattle. The thundering sonata would have been an odd occurrence under any circumstances, but what made it really strange was that it was the actual soundtrack from the Broadway rendition of the play. Fernando used it for the first few rehearsals, until everyone was sure of their lines. After that, a boxed orchestra without any vocals had been their normal backup. Nevertheless, suddenly Rebecca found herself serenaded by a group of invisible British commoners hunting for a serial killer.
Rebecca tried to remember where the controls were so she could turn off the music. She even climbed behind the stage to look, but it was dark and there was no sign of a CD player. She was starting to think the switches were in the hidden balcony above her where the spotlights and other technical supplies were stored. Since that room was off limits to everyone but Fernando and the lighting guy, she decided to head to the kitchen until her employer returned. That way she could get away from the noise and make herself useful by grabbing some additional place settings.
Even as Rebecca inched down the hallway, the music still boomed. Somehow the stereo must have also gotten stuck on the repeat button because instead of skipping to the next track, Murder played again in endless repetition. It was unnerving, and it definitely added to the disturbing atmosphere of the nearly deserted Victorian mansion. Being alone was starting to get to her, and Rebecca found herself wondering why Justyn hadn’t returned from the wine cellar. Not to mention the fact that there was still no sign of Tom and Carmen. Even traffic shouldn’t have delayed them for this long.
Rebecca shivered and smoothed the lace of her wedding gown before she opened the pantry, but it didn’t stop her hands from shaking. The porcelain rattled as she pulled the dishes down from the shelves. There was no sign of Victoria anywhere near the linen closet only a few feet away. All of a sudden, everyone in the building had simply vanished. Rebecca couldn’t help it. She was starting to freak herself out a little, and the background music wasn’t helping. It was like she had lapsed into a bad episode of The Twilight Zone.
“Rebecca!”
The distressed voice startled her so much Rebecca dropped a whole stack of dishware. The plates shattered into shards at her feet, but she didn’t have time to fret over it. She turned and found Fernando ogling at her, his eyes wide and wild. His bald head was covered in sweat, but for once he made no effort to wipe it dry.
“Fernando? Wha-what’s wrong?” Rebecca stuttered.
“We have to get out of here.” He grabbed hold of her arm so tightly it cut off her circulation. “It … it’s Joe! Joe is dead!”
Rebecca was too shocked to stop her boss from dragging her down the hallway. “What do you mean? Who’s Joe? What’re you talking about?”
When Fernando didn’t answer her, Rebecca forced her legs to plant against the floor. Fernando turned to her with a combination of panic and frustration
etched on his features, but he finally gave her at least half an explanation. “The chef,” he clarified. “I went to check on how dinner was coming along, and I found Joe … dead. God … I think … I think someone shot him. The blood … it was everywhere!”
Rebecca remembered the young man they’d passed on their way in. He couldn’t have been more than a few years older than her. How could he be…?
Rebecca’s hands flew to her mouth to stifle a scream or a gag. She wasn’t sure herself which one would have emerged if she hadn’t controlled herself. This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t. Not again. She was so overwhelmed at first she barely noticed when Fernando started pulling her toward the exit again. When she came to her senses, Rebecca realized she couldn’t leave. A fear far more potent than that of losing her own life took over.
“Wait. Let me go!” Rebecca struggled to break free from the death grip her boss had on her wrist, but he only held her tighter. “Fernando, stop! I have to find Justyn!”
Fernando shook his head almost violently. “You can’t worry about him right now. I’ll come back and look for him after, but I’m getting you out of here first. You know that’s what Justyn would want. Think about your baby!”
“No,” Rebecca insisted, even though a part of her knew Fernando was right. “I can’t leave! Not without Justyn! I won’t leave him alone with some maniac on the loose.”
“Listen to me!” Fernando gripped her shoulders so tightly it was painful. He was surprisingly strong considering he was at least a foot shorter than her. Rebecca tried, but she found it impossible to wriggle free from his grasp. “You can’t stay here! It isn’t safe!”
Despite her constant struggles, Fernando managed to drag her into the kitchen. They quickly approached the rear exit. Along the way, she caught a glimpse of a white sneaker peeking out from behind the large oven. It was still attached to a denim-covered leg, both of which were stained with something obviously more than kitchen grease. An angry red puddle was spreading out around the fallen chef’s leg, and there was a spattering the same terrible color sprayed upon the white walls where he must have been standing when…