Midnight Spells Murder

by Mary Angela

  Zo was speechless. One hundred thousand dollars was a lot of money. She had no idea Marianne had secured that kind of deal. Zo respected her for not bragging or making it an issue. Being a local author from a rural state, she could have done so very easily. Zo only knew one author, and it was Marianne. Yet when Zo invited her to speak at the store, she was gracious and even grateful. Her humility made Zo more determined than ever to find her killer.

  “We will figure out what happened last night,” said Zo. “I promise. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s piecing together a story.”

  For the first time since arriving, Emily’s face brightened. She looked a little bit more like a college freshman. She opened Marianne’s planner and took out the Phantom of the Opera tickets. “She would want you to have these. I won’t be going, obviously, and Nikki was her good friend. Mom papered the theater for her, handing out additional tickets to friends and family. She was a lifelong patron and would want the show to be a success.”

  Zo took the tickets. “Thank you. That’s so nice of you.”

  Emily turned to leave.

  “Keep in touch, okay?” said Zo. “If you need anything, just give me a call.”

  “Sure,” said Emily. “I will. And thanks for looking into this. I wish I could do more.”

  “You have enough to do right now,” said Zo. “Leave it to me.”

  After Emily left, Zo scanned the tickets. They were very nice seats, row B. Zo loved the theater. Going would give her an opportunity to talk to Nikki about Marianne’s death and the theater’s plans for the holidays. Zo’s Happy Camper column this week was titled “Spirit of the Season.” It would showcase the upcoming charity events taking place during November and December.

  She noticed a customer looking for a price on a candlestick and went over to assist her. She’d be busy with customers until Harley got there, which left her very little time to find a friend or date to go with her to the theater. The bell on the door jingled, signaling the entrance of a new customer, and Max strode in. Maybe she wouldn’t have to find a date after all. Maybe a date had found her.

  She had to admit, Max’s forest ranger uniform was becoming more attractive every time she saw it. Tangling with authorities a time or two when she was young, she never thought she’d be one of those girls who fell for a man in uniform, but maybe it was a universal thing. Maybe she could only deny its appeal for so long before she became beguiled by the creases in his shirt. They accentuated his biceps just right. Nor could she deny his smile, which was so kind that she was starting to believe it. He might be as good as he seemed.

  “You’re just the guy I wanted to see,” greeted Zo.

  He turned and looked over his shoulder. “Me?”

  Zo smiled.

  “Even with this?” From his back pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper.

  His uniform suddenly looked less appealing. “What is it?”

  He handed her the paper. “It’s a Trip Plan. I’d like you to use it for your nature hikes. It approximates the times and lengths of the hikes. You leave it with an emergency contact.”

  Zo scanned the form: emergency contacts, equipment carried, length of trail. “Harley has all this information.”

  “I’d like to have the information as well,” said Max. “Just to be safe.”

  “I’m really glad you’re coming with us on Sunday,” said Zo. “Then you’ll see for yourself that these hikes are not like yours. They’re not even hikes. They’re nature walks.”

  “Nature is unpredictable,” said Max. “It’s good to plan ahead.”

  Even though Zo didn’t want or need more paperwork, she tucked the form under her counter. The man was obstinate on the point, and she had other things to discuss, like Marianne’s death. But first she needed to take care of tonight. “Fine. I’ll use the form if you go to the Phantom of the Opera with me tonight.”

  His eyes crinkled when he smiled. “I’m flattered you think you need to bribe me to go out with you.”

  “It’s not a date,” Zo quickly replied. “Emily gave me two tickets, and I want to use them to talk to Nikki. She and Marianne were friends, and she might have another perspective on Emily’s dad. He stood to inherit a lot of money.” Zo told Max about Marianne’s book advance and her appointment to change her will.

  “It’s a possibility,” agreed Max. “The medical examiner just determined Marianne died from blunt force trauma to the head.”

  Zo knew it. Someone hit Marianne and left her to die in the dark of night, the bewitching hour. “Does Brady have any idea who might have done this?”

  “If he did, he wouldn’t tell me,” Max muttered. He straightened his shoulders and changed his response. “We’re working on it.”

  “Last night, he acted as if I had something to do with Marianne’s death. Do you think I’m in danger? Or my store?”

  Max didn’t have time to answer. A customer approached to purchase a birdfeeder.

  “That’s a lovely feeder, Mrs. Bixby,” Zo said. Mrs. Bixby was one of her regular customers. She was seventy-five, which was surprising since she still shopped like she was eighteen. Snow, rain, or wind didn’t stop her from making her weekly trek in from the canyon. “The Mountain Blue Bird is sure to visit this winter.”

  “Splendid.” Mrs. Bixby turned over her wallet in her wrinkled hands. “I need more visitors this time of year.”

  Max received a call over his radio. “I need to check on this. What time is the show?”

  Mrs. Bixby raised her sparse eyebrows at Zo. “He’s cute,” she mouthed.

  “The performance starts at seven. I’ll pick you up.” Zo put the feeder in a brown paper bag with the Happy Camper logo on it. “Thank you, Mrs. Bixby. Stop in again.”

  “I’ll be ready,” said Max. “Can I carry your package to the car, ma’am?”

  “And a gentleman, too,” whispered Mrs. Bixby. “He’s a keeper.”

  Zo smiled. She was starting to agree.

  Chapter Six

  That night, Zo wondered what to wear to the theater. She was a casual dresser and loved jeans and sweatshirts, but the opera house meant a nice dress. Though the theater was on the small side, tourists and locals turned out in their finery. Despite the opera house being located in the heart of the Black Hills, Nikki Ainsworth brought in talented theater troupes and big-name shows. She wasn’t afraid to take on Phantom or any other musical, and the newly renovated theater would only help attract larger companies.

  Originally built in 1906, the Spirit Canyon Opera House was home to many popular productions, but at the end of the decade, motion pictures competed for its business. The theater fell into disrepair until a group of Black Mountain College students took renewed interest in the opera house. When they graduated, however, the interest was lost. It would take a local graduate like Nikki to stay for the vision of a thriving theater to be fulfilled. She’d worked tirelessly on the opera house, and after several years, the renovations were finally complete. Zo couldn’t wait to see the finished product. Phantom of the Opera was the first production in the remodeled theater.

  She checked her outfit in the full-length mirror. Dark green on the top and black on the bottom, the dress was lovely. It was short and had a cute ruffle. She had the perfect green earrings to match. They added a bohemian touch and made her feel more comfortable. Plus they turned her green eyes a little greener. She touched her silver necklace. A half-moon, it didn’t really go with the outfit, but she never took it off. It was the only gift she had from her birth parents. Engraved with the name Zo, it was with her when she was found at the police station, and her adopted parents kept the name, unique as it was.

  Hopping into her Outback, she noted Happy Camper was still busy. It was open until ten during Spirit Spooktacular, but Harley was managing just fine. With any luck, she could spend the last hour doing homework. Harley was a committed
employee, and if Zo could keep her at least until she graduated, she would be thrilled. Hopefully, she would keep working long after.

  Dressed in a black jacket and looking very handsome, Max was waiting for her on the porch of his bungalow. He opened the front door, hollered something inside, and walked to the car.

  She rolled down her window. “You ready?”

  “For so many reasons, yes,” he grumbled.

  A screech came from the house. It sounded like a cross between a hurt cat and a caged bird. Max upped his speed.

  “Are you sure?” Zo asked. “It sounds like someone needs your help in there.”

  He shut the car door, his eyes like blue crystals against his dark shirt. “I’m the one who needs help. Duncan’s decided to take up the fiddle.”

  “The fiddle?” asked Zo. “I’m no musician, but I don’t think it has much in common with the guitar besides the strings.”

  “I guess he didn’t notice, because he’s playing that thing like he’s Charlie Daniels.” He turned to Zo, his face a puzzle of emotions. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  Zo backed out of the driveway. “Maybe you could take up the drums. Start a real band.”

  “I’m serious,” said Max. “If this job at Spirits & Spirits doesn’t pan out, I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He faced her. “Could you talk to Jules? Make sure she understands my predicament? With a steady paycheck, he could move out—permanently.”

  “I can talk to her, but when it comes to business, she makes her own rules. My advice to Duncan would be to toe the line.”

  “Ha!” Max laughed. “That guy has never toed the line a day in his life. He reminds me of my brothers.”

  “How’s that?” Zo pulled into an open spot near the opera house.

  “They never listened,” explained Max. “They expected things to just ‘turn out.’ The future was a vague place to them, but not to me. I’m the oldest, and when our dad left, I had no choice but to work and plan for it.”

  She turned off the ignition. “I didn’t realize.”

  He shrugged.

  “Your dad—”

  “—left when I was five. I hardly remember him.” Max buttoned his jacket. “Do you have the tickets? It’s almost seven.”

  He reached for the door handle. Zo guessed he didn’t want to go into detail right now, and it was almost showtime. Still, being an oldest child explained a few of his behaviors. She probably even shared a few. She better understood his need for rules and organization. He needed them while helping his mother raise his younger brothers. “Yes, I have them in my purse.”

  While she turned to the backseat to find her purse, he ran around to her side of the car and opened the door. This is a first. “I guess Mrs. Bixby was right.”

  “Why?” said Max.

  “You are a gentleman.”

  They walked into the bustling opera house, and Zo gave the usher their tickets. The renovations were better than she imagined. Instead of industrial carpet, refurbished oak floors gleamed under the light of the new crystal chandelier. The ratty seat cushions were replaced with plush burgundy fabric that matched the burgundy walls and stage curtains. The ornate, cream-colored woodwork was a nice contrast to the dark walls, and Zo found herself admiring the stage boxes and ceiling paintings anew as she scooted into her seat.

  From the looks of the audience, it would be a packed house. A meet-and-greet with the cast was scheduled for after the performance, which might have had something to do with the large crowd. Then again, Phantom was known for its beautiful costumes and singing, and it was Spirit Spooktacular. Lots of visitors were in town. Zo sneaked a glance at Max. She just hoped he was in the mood for music after Duncan’s jam session.

  The lights flickered, and Max leaned over and whispered, “Let’s find Nikki after the performance.”

  Zo nodded. It was hard to concentrate with him this close. He smelled of pine needles and cold air, an intoxicating combination that reminded Zo of Christmas, his blue eyes bright like snow in the moonlight.

  The show began, and Zo lost herself in the drama. From the time she was little, Zo loved the theater. Stories were the reason she went into journalism in the first place. She liked nothing better than to take a book into the canyon and disappear. Unlike most of the foster houses she lived in, nature was serene, and books made sense. They had beginnings, middles, and endings. There was a certain order to them that she found attractive. She checked Max, who was enjoying the show as much as she was. Maybe they were more alike than she realized.

  After the performance, they went to the lobby to meet the cast. The actors paraded in, still dressed in elaborate costumes. The Phantom was especially haunting. With his burned face and white half-mask, it was hard to remember he was playing a role. He looked so real.

  Nikki was congratulating him on his performance. Standing next to him in a black suit, she was as strong as she was beautiful, not only physically, though she was that, but mentally. Her willpower to transform the opera house was palpable, and the cast revered her. It was as if she, too, had a little theater magic up her sleeve. She could draw performers and patrons and locals into something bigger than themselves, if only for a night. Zo admired her commitment to the arts. The world needed more people like her.

  Max peeked into the room adjacent to the lobby. “Did you see this?”

  She followed his gaze.

  “They put some of the memorabilia they found during the renovation into display cases,” said Max.

  It looked as if Nikki would be awhile. She had not only actors to congratulate but donors to talk to, so Zo followed Max. She scanned the newspaper clippings from past productions, framed on the walls. “What a great idea. I wonder where they found them?”

  “Hey, look at this,” said Max. “Phantom of the Opera performed at the opera house before.”

  Zo noticed tonight’s performance harkened to the original. The actors wore similar colorful attire and dress. Even Christine’s wig looked identical. “Nikki got tonight’s performance perfect. Just think, this place might have been demolished years ago if it weren’t for her. Can you imagine?”

  “I can’t imagine not having an opera house in Spirit Canyon,” said Max. “Where would our phantom live?”

  Max was referring to the woman in white who was said to haunt the opera house, the upper left balcony specifically. Zo hadn’t seen her, but she believed the story. Spirit Canyon was home to many legends, including the woman in white. According to the accounts, she wasn’t an actress but a patron who owned the box in the early 1900s. Apparently she didn’t enjoy sharing it, because people who occupied it complained of noise, cold air, and a general feeling of ill-ease. Since the 1980s, the box had been kept vacant for these reasons. A yellow cord blocked access to patrons and ghost hunters.

  Stepping back into the lobby, Zo noticed Nikki was finished talking to the Phantom and quickly called out her name before she was accosted by the next actor. “Hi Nikki. Great show.”

  “Thank you…”

  Zo wondered if she remembered who she was. Everyone in town knew who Nikki was, but it would be impossible for her to remember every name. “I’m Zo. We met at the book signing at Happy Camper.” Max appeared at her side. “And this is Max Harrington. He’s a forest ranger.”

  “Of course I remember you.” Nikki greeted her warmly. “Your event was fantastic. Were you there, Max? I don’t recall.”

  “No,” said Max. “But I’m assisting with the investigation into Marianne’s death. I’m sorry for your loss. I understand you were friends.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” added Zo.

  “Thank you.” Nikki’s eyes flicked around the area. “She was supposed to be here tonight, you know. Hers was the box in the right balcony. She wouldn’t have missed it, and she would have invited everyone she knew. I can’t believe she’s gone.” A tear sl
ipped down her cheek, and she dabbed it away quickly. “It’s not just a loss to me, but a loss to the entire theater community.”

  “You were good friends?” asked Zo.

  “Yes,” Nikki answered. “We were both into theater, art, books—obviously.” She smiled a sad smile. “We raised our kids together. My Hannah and her Emily are the same age.”

  “I didn’t realize you had a daughter,” said Zo.

  Nikki pointed to a younger version of herself, who was talking to an actor. With her fair hair and tall frame, there was no mistaking the connection, though Hannah’s attire was more relaxed. While her mom’s hair was carefully coiffed, hers was secured in a messy bun.

  “She’s pretty,” said Zo.

  “Thank you.” Nikki turned to Max. “You said you are with the police. Do you know what happened? It didn’t really say on the news.”

  “We don’t know for certain, but it looks as if she took a blow to the head,” explained Max. “She died of blunt force trauma.”

  Nikki’s hand flew to her mouth. “From the news report, I figured she tripped or…or fell. Her house is just a block away from Happy Camper.”

  That explained why Marianne was found near her store.

  “But that’s not the case?” prodded Nikki, looking between Zo and Max. “She didn’t die of a fall?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say,” Max said.

  Spoken like a true officer. Zo shared what she knew. “It didn’t appear that way to me. I was the one who found her.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Nikki apologized. “That must have been terrible for you.”

  “It was.” Zo shook off the memory and focused on finding justice for Marianne. “What do you know about Marianne’s relationship with her husband?”

  “Ex-husband,” Nikki corrected. “The divorce was recently finalized. He’s a lazy bum. Hasn’t worked for years. She was right to get rid of him.” She blinked, her lashes thick with mascara. “You don’t think he hurt her, do you?”

  “We don’t think anything yet,” cautioned Max. “The police are still gathering facts.”