by Sammi Carter
But we weren’t talking about me, or about Dana and Danielle. I dragged my attention back to Serena and asked, “So your mother still didn’t know who you were seeing?”
“Oh, hell no. Laurence’s dream was to make it big, and back then the Playhouse was about as big as you could get in this part of the world. I wouldn’t have hurt his chances of success for anything.”
“But she knows now?”
“Now, yes. I told her the whole story the other night.”
I sat for a while, absorbing what she’d just told me, but it didn’t quite add up. “That was over twenty years ago,” I said. “And you’re obviously all right, so it’s not as if there was any permanent damage.”
Serena’s eyes met mine again and the pain was back. “There’s no damage you can see.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“He didn’t beat me or anything like that,” she said. “But I was pregnant when we left. I thought he’d be so thrilled, you know? But it was a different world then, and he freaked out. He didn’t mind sleeping with me but he wasn’t about to marry me, and he sure as hell didn’t want a kid with me. He thought it would hurt his chances of being America’s favorite, and that’s what he was determined to become. If all those conservative Midwest folks had found out that he was sleeping with a black woman . . .” She broke off with a sigh of resignation. “I’m okay with it now, but it hurt like hell then.”
“I’m sure it did—on several levels. What happened to the baby?”
“Laurence forced me to have an abortion.” She held up a hand, anticipating an argument from me. “I was young. He just had to look at me the right way, and I felt as if I had no choice. I did argue with him about the baby. I didn’t want to do it. Mama had drilled the idea that life is sacred into me, and having that abortion felt like murder. But I was so desperate for him to love me, I did it anyway.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I did the smart thing and kept my mouth shut.
“Something went wrong with the operation,” Serena said, “and I nearly died. Obviously, I survived, but I’ll never be able to have kids of my own.”
This was a pain I could identify with. I didn’t let myself think about my own childless state often, but it was always like a sword in my heart when I did. I leaned across the space between us and put my hand on hers. “I’m so sorry.”
She nodded without looking at me. “It’s my own fault.”
“You did what you thought was best at the time,” I said. “That’s all anybody can ever do.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“So your mother found out that Laurence was responsible for killing her unborn grandchild.” And Vonetta would have seen it that way. “And she also realized that it was his fault she almost lost you.”
“Yeah.” She smiled sadly. “And you know Mama. I think she was more disappointed when she realized that she wouldn’t ever have grandkids than I was over never having kids of my own—and that’s saying something. When she found out that it was Laurence who had pushed me into the abortion, she freaked.”
“And that’s why she tried to fire him.”
“It has to be.”
“Is that why she’s trying to keep you from talking to people?”
“I think so. She’s kind of touchy about her reputation, you know? She’s worked so hard to fit in, and it wasn’t easy when she first came to town. She was the first African American in Paradise, and a lot of people were skeptical of her—especially since she was a single mother. She’s convinced that if this gets out, people will think the worst of her, and that would devastate her.”
“It’s a different world than it was back then,” I said.
“You know that, and so do I. Mama? Not so much.” Serena glanced at the clock on the mantel and her mood changed abruptly. She bolted to her feet, a ball of tension again. “I’m not even dressed, and she’ll be home in less than half an hour. If you don’t leave now, I’ll never get anything done.”
I still had questions without answers, but I knew a whole lot more than I had when I got there. I let her usher me to the door. On the porch, Max stretched in the midday sun and yawned contentedly. I felt chilled to the bone. Considering their history, I wondered what Laurence had been planning to say to Serena when he got her alone. And I wondered why he’d ordered Vonetta to ban Serena from the theater at the same time he’d been busy making arrangements to see her alone. Something about that didn’t feel right to me, but I didn’t know if it was because Serena had left something out, or because Laurence had been a nasty human being who’d been very good at fooling other people.
Chapter 15
“I don’t have time for this, Abby. And neither, I’m sure, do you.” Vonetta stood and came out from behind her desk, a deep scowl lining her normally smooth face.
I’d come straight to the Playhouse after my visit with Serena, hoping I could convince Vonetta to tell the police about her history with Laurence. Not only would revealing the truth help Richie by forcing Nate to acknowledge that other people had issues with Laurence, but when the truth came out—and it would—it would look a whole lot better for both Vonetta and Serena if they’d been honest about it from the beginning.
Apparently considering the conversation over, Vonetta gathered a stack of papers from her desk and swept from her office. I trailed her into the box office, determined to stay until she talked to me. “You don’t have time not to talk to me,” I insisted. “This isn’t going to go away just because you want it to.”
She pushed the Power button on the copy machine and shot a look at me over her shoulder. “I didn’t do anything wrong, and I refuse to behave as if I did. Go back to the candy store. The police will conduct their investigation and realize that Laurence’s death was an accident. Let’s not turn it into something more.”
I wished I could agree, but I didn’t. “Closing your eyes to the truth won’t make it disappear. You know it’s only a matter of time before the police find out about Serena.”
Vonetta’s head whipped around and she pierced me with a stern look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Vonetta. People will remember their argument from the rehearsal. If I know about Serena’s relationship with Laurence, the police will figure it out too. You and Serena might have kept it all a big secret, but Laurence didn’t seem to think it was as important to hide it as you did.”
Her gaze narrowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I’m talking about Serena and Laurence, and their relationship. The baby. The abortion. It’s all going to come out, and it’s going to look really bad for you when it does.”
She took a deep breath, but the only sign that I’d struck a nerve was the slight flaring of her nostrils. “You’re stepping over a line, Abby. Friends don’t do that.”
Ouch! She knew which buttons to push, that was for sure. But I held my ground. “I’m not trying to offend you,” I said, “but I’m really worried about Richie. The police have talked to him twice now, and he’s terrified.”
“Maybe he has reason to be.”
“As a matter of fact, he does, and it’s a reason you should understand. Nate Svboda isn’t exactly known for his open mind and free thinking.”
She didn’t even blink. “That’s unfortunate, and I’m sorry Richie’s having to go through that, but I don’t see why I should let you throw my daughter under the bus to protect him.”
“I’m not trying to throw Serena under the bus.” I could hear my voice growing shrill with frustration, so I made an effort to pull myself together. “The point is, Serena’s history with Laurence is bound to come out. If the two of you tell the police about it first, they won’t be able to accuse you of lying to hide it later.”
“If Serena’s history with Laurence becomes public knowledge, I guess we’ll know who felt compelled to share it with the world.”
“I don’t plan to tell anyone,” I assured her.
“Then we don’t need to worry. Laurence is the onl
y other person who knew about their . . . relationship, and he wouldn’t have told anyone.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” I argued. “It happened a long time ago. He could have told any number of people about it.”
Vonetta lowered her voice to make sure she wouldn’t be overheard. “You’re forgetting that the reason he murdered my grandchild was to keep his clandestine affair a secret. He didn’t want anyone finding out about his relationship with Serena.”
“Well, yeah. Twenty years ago. I don’t think he was all that worried about it by the time he came back to Paradise.”
Vonetta’s expression grew as frosty as the ice on the windows. “Serena had nothing to do with Laurence’s death. She never even saw him again after that encounter in the rehearsal hall.”
The brittleness of her glare made me uncomfortable, but at least I had her attention. “I’m not saying she did, but once the police find out about their past relationship, they’re bound to think there’s a connection. They’re going to ask questions, and somebody will talk.”
Vonetta swept her gaze over me once more, then turned back to the copy machine. “Then the police will be wrong.”
“Ignoring this won’t make it go away,” I said again. “Both you and Serena have pretty strong motives for wanting Laurence dead.”
Vonetta turned her head slowly to look at me. “You think one of us killed him?”
“I didn’t say that. But somebody’s bound to dig up the truth about Serena’s relationship with him. You’ll be doing both of you a favor if you just go to the police and tell them everything.”
“No.”
I groaned inwardly, wondering how such an intelligent woman could be so damn stubborn. Was she just naive, or was she hiding something? Before I could make an attempt to find out, a harried-looking woman burst through the door carrying a heap of pirate costumes.
“We’re going to have to call Esther,” she announced. “These costumes are too large for half of the chorus.”
“Costumes?” My uneasiness changed direction. They should have been packing costumes away, not making arrangements for alterations.
Vonetta flicked a glance at the pile of clothing in her arms. “Give her a call. Tell her we need her right away.”
The woman disappeared, and I gaped at Vonetta for a few seconds before I could ask, “What are you doing?”
“Working.”
“But—” The copier started running, and Vonetta resumed the journey she’d been on when I came in. She left the box office, crossed the lobby, and turned down the long corridor that led to the dressing rooms. Framed pictures of casts from long-forgotten productions stretched the entire length of the hallway, and earlier this year Vonetta had started a second row. Funny, but no matter how many years had passed, I could still tell you exactly which of those pictures I was in. Maybe my stage debut had been more important than I’d let myself believe.
I hurried to catch up with Vonetta, whose stride was almost Amazonian. “You’re going to go ahead with the production?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t we?”
“Because Laurence was killed right here in the theater. I assumed you’d shut down.”
She glanced over her shoulder as she walked. “The show must go on, Abby. Surely you’ve heard that before. And now I have to start all over and find a new musical director. One that Alexander is willing to work with. That’s not going to be easy.”
“But the murder was committed here. On your stage. One of the cast or crew, or someone connected to one of them, might be a killer.”
Vonetta stopped walking and turned to face me. “You’re entirely too fanciful, Abby. There’s no proof that Laurence’s death was deliberate, and unless the police decide beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was, I’m not going to let myself get swept up in emotion. The accident happened here, on my stage. It was tragic and untimely, and we’re all distressed over it, but I can’t think of a finer way to honor Laurence than to go on with the play and dedicate it to his memory.”
“What if you’re wrong? What if his death wasn’t an accident? You could be putting yourself in danger. You could be putting the rest of the cast and crew in danger.”
“If you’re trying to frighten me, it won’t work. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.” She turned away and tugged open the door to the women’s dressing room. “It’s funny, isn’t it? When I asked you, as a friend, to be in the production, you said you didn’t have time. But you certainly seem to have plenty of time to chase shadows.”
She let herself inside, and I was left staring at the door as it swished shut behind her.
I was both surprised and a little hurt by the venom in that last comment, but I suppose I deserved it. Turning away, I started back up that long hallway. I’d only made it halfway when a loud crash followed by a shrill scream tore through the air. It took about three seconds to decide that both had come from behind the door Vonetta had just entered. Another three to bolt back down the hall and tear through the door.
The main dressing area with its row of dressing tables and lighted mirrors was cluttered, but empty. A rolling rack of costumes had been shoved up against one wall, and colorful plastic stacking baskets tucked into every available space were filled to overflowing with makeup, hair products, hot rollers, hair straighteners, blow-dryers, and things I didn’t recognize. A stack of scripts lay on one of the dressing tables, but Vonetta was nowhere to be seen.
After making sure that she wasn’t on the floor behind the costume rack, I hurried into the attached ladies’ room. I found Vonetta on the floor, her eyes closed and a trickle of blood on her forehead.
I lunged toward her, our argument forgotten. “Vonetta? Can you hear me?” I touched my fingers to her neck, felt the flutter of a heartbeat, and blinked away tears of relief. “Vonetta, are you all right?”
She didn’t move a muscle. Her eyes didn’t even twitch. But at least I knew she was alive.
I dug my cell phone from my pocket and checked for a signal. Nope. Not even one bar. I wasn’t really surprised. Cell phone service was spotty in Paradise under the best of circumstances. I thought about putting something under Vonetta’s head to make her more comfortable, but decided not to move her. I didn’t know what had happened, and I didn’t want to make an injury I couldn’t see worse by moving her.
I got to my feet and headed for the door so I could call for help, but it flew open before I could reach it. Jason Dahl burst into the room, his face a mask of concern. Alexander Pastorelli puffed in behind him, wheezing and out of breath.
Déjà vu.
“Vonetta!” Alexander rushed toward her and knelt at her side. “My God, what happened?”
“I don’t know. I was talking to Vonetta in the hall, then she came inside and I started to leave. I heard her scream, so I ran in to see what happened and found her like this. Somebody needs to call 9-1-1.”
Alexander’s head shot up and he looked at me . . . hard. “You have no idea what happened?”
“None. Why don’t you stay with her? I’ll go call for help.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Alexander said, and the look in his eyes left me cold. “You go, Jason. You stay here with me.”
My legs were shaking so I backed to the sink and perched on the edge of the counter. “You can’t seriously think I did this. Vonetta’s my friend.”
“Yeah, well she’s my friend, too.” As if someone flipped a switch inside him, he went from hard-ass to Mr. Touchy-Feely in the blink of an eye. He brushed Vonetta’s cheek with the backs of his fingers and spoke gently. “Vonetta, can you hear me? It’s going to be okay. Jason has gone to call for help.”
“I didn’t do this,” I said, more to myself than to him.
“No? Well you’ll have a chance to prove it when the police get here.”
Great. Just what I needed. More quality time with Nate Svboda. I had a sudden longing to hear Jawarski’s voice, but I refused to let myself call him.
A few months ago, he’d expressed some doubt about my feelings for him. He’d asked whether I really liked him, or if I just liked the information he could give me about the case he’d been working on. Ever since then, I’d done my best to avoid talking to him about murder and mayhem. Since I hadn’t called to hear his voice before today, I couldn’t very well call now.
But oh man, I wished I could.
Chapter 16
I spent the next two hours answering the same questions over and over again. I’d come to the theater to talk to Vonetta. I’d been about to leave when I heard her scream. No, I didn’t see anyone else. No I didn’t hear anything unusual—except, of course, the scream.
Vonetta had been awake by the time the paramedics arrived, but she hadn’t been able to shed any light on her . . . accident, either. She’d walked into the ladies’ room and something or someone had hit her from behind, that’s all she knew.
The incident raised more questions than it answered. Who would attack Vonetta, and why? Had the spotlight that killed Laurence been meant for her? Or had she seen or heard something when she found Laurence’s body that she didn’t recognize as being important?
The paramedics’ examination hadn’t revealed any serious injuries, but they’d loaded her, protests and all, into the ambulance anyway. By the time Nate had finally let me go, reporters had started to gather, and I’d had to run the gauntlet to get away from them. By the time I made it back to Divinity, Karen and Liberty were up to their eyeballs in customers and orders, and I threw myself into the normalcy of caramel and chocolate, lollipops and gummi bears.
I spent the rest of the day trying not to think about what had happened at the Playhouse. It seemed only fair that I make at least a minimal contribution to the effort of getting Divinity through Valentine’s Day. Luckily, we were too busy for Karen or Liberty to notice how distracted I was. I made three batches of cherry divinity and manned the phone for a while so Karen and Liberty could catch their breath. In spite of my lack of concentration, the divinity turned out perfectly, which was something of a minor miracle. After packing away the pale pink puffs of candy, I helped Karen and Liberty restock the shelves so we’d be ready to go in the morning. I forgot all about looking for the sales slip Karen had written up for Geoffrey Manwaring until I turned the key in the lock at the end of the day. Promising myself that I’d look for it tomorrow, I climbed the stairs to my apartment.