“Nice bear,” Zachary said, smiling at me, his shoulder resting casually against the doorframe. “Where’d that come from?”
“I’m pretty sure you don’t want to know.” I tossed the stuffed atrocity on the bed. I’d have to figure out how to get rid of it some other time. I was certain Val would adore it.
Since I was far too wobbly to wear heels, I found my Mary Jane flats and slid them on. Zachary offered me his arm, and we headed out the door.
When we arrived at the Chanticleer Theater, he pulled up to the curb so I wouldn’t have to walk too far. Like a true gentleman, Zachary came around the car to open the door for me and help me out. Yesler Square was crowded with people arriving and milling around outside the theater. It looked like there were going to be lots of people at the event, and that was a positive sign.
“Okay, you go in. I’ll park and meet you inside. You’re steady enough to make it on your own?” Zachary asked, helping me up the curb.
“I’m not made of glass, you know,” I said. Even though I was feeling more fragile than usual, I could get used to all this extra attention.
Jaya was standing in the lobby, greeting people as they entered.
“Thanks very much for all your help on the gala. The entire HAT team is so happy with the work you and Tessa have done,” Jaya said, beaming in her elegant burgundy dress. She was clearly happy the event, which had appeared on several occasions to be headed for disaster, was really happening.
“And thanks for talking with Mrs. Greer so we could keep our doors open for this event, and for Hamlet as well,” Daniel said, looking dapper in his black suit and skinny emerald-colored tie.
“You’re still going to open Hamlet?” I asked.
“As long as we can keep our lead actor out of jail,” Daniel said, attempting a joke. “You can pick up your tickets at the box office.”
I passed through the crowded lobby and made my way to the box office. I was astounded to find Vega helping customers at the service window.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I thought maybe Daniel could use some help. After all, this auction was my dad’s brainchild, so I thought someone from the family should be here. I knew I’d never get my mother to come, so here I am.”
“I’m happy to see you,” I said, smiling at Vega.
“Happy to be here. Here are your tickets,” she said, handing them to me. “And good luck in the auction.”
Zachary joined me in the lobby and we headed for our seats.
The place was packed, and I was hopeful that tonight we’d make a ton of money for the Homeless Advocacy Team. I found our seats in the front row—Tessa had made sure we had the best seats in the house. I was disappointed I wasn’t backstage helping, but I knew that between Tessa, Val, and Uncle Freddie, the whole thing would run smoothly without me. Zachary settled into the seat next to me and draped his arm around me.
“Comfy?”
“Yep. Fingers crossed it all goes without a hitch.”
“I got us a number for bidding.” Zachary flashed a half-sheet of paper with the number 99 stamped on it.
“I hope I win something,” I said, taking the paper from him.
With just seconds to go before the start of the event, Tessa’s husband, Craig, slid into the seat next to me, their son Joey in tow. There was a still an open seat with a reserved sign on it on the other side of Zachary. The lights above us flashed, indicating everyone should take their seats. We spotted Bev coming down the center aisle. Zachary invited her to join us.
“Nice to see you, hon,” Bev said, sitting down and reaching across Zachary to pat my knee.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to find Buff Brown sitting behind me next to Mr. Chu. I was glad to see both of them.
“Hi, Jax. Val told me about the auction. I thought I’d come and see if I could bid on something,” Buff said. “Oh, and I donated a pet photography session to the auction. You saw the photos hanging on the walls in my office? They’re all shots I took.”
“I’m going to bid on that. I want some cat portraits,” Mr. Chu said, clutching his bidding card. Buff could be busy for days taking photos if Mr. Chu won that auction item, given the large number of cats he kept.
“Oh, thank you for the little bronze chicken sculpture. Can you tell me more about it?” I asked Mr. Chu.
“It’s an antique from Burma. You like it? It’s just a decoration these days, but used to be for weighing opium.”
“Wow. Thanks for telling me what it was, I had no idea.” Given I’d been drugged with some sort of opioid earlier in the day, I wasn’t too keen to learn that the sculpture had anything to do with the opium trade, but it was very thoughtful of him to bring me a gift. “I’ve already found a place to display it on the windowsill in my studio.”
The lights dimmed, and I turned back around. A spotlight burst on, illuminating a figure on the stage. It was Val’s Uncle Freddie, in full rock n roll regalia: red leather pants and a shiny black shirt, tall platform boots, and equally tall rock star hair.
“Good evening, everyone,” Freddie shouted into the mic. “I’m Freddie Roberts, and I’ll be your host tonight. So if everyone is ready, let’s get this party started!” There was a blast of rock music, and the first model entered the stage. Freddie let us know what she was wearing, and he sounded pretty good. Val must have written up some descriptions of the outfits for him.
“Next we have Ashley, who is looking stunning in a lavender silk gown with an antique faux-amber necklace, courtesy of Chu’s Antiquities. The necklace will be available for purchase during the auction later this evening.” We all applauded as Ashley glided across the stage and twirled at all the right moments.
“Now, here’s Izzy. She’s looking fantastic in this emerald green tunic with bright stripes and black jeans. Finishing off this outfit is a black pendant with green and yellow accents, made by our very own Jax O’Connell.” Everyone in the audience clapped, and several people around me patted me on the shoulder. The outfit and the coordinating necklace looked lovely, I just hoped the necklace would sell for a high dollar amount during the auction, for both HAT’s sake and mine.
“Let’s give a big round of applause for Izzy!” Freddie shouted, as he continued to whip the audience into a frenzy of appreciation for the models. The crowd roared again as Izzy came to the front of the stage, did a very professional spin and then exited into the wings.
All the rest of the girls, their outfits, and jewelry were stunning. They all looked incredibly poised and professional as they took the stage, each girl modeling two outfits during the fashion show part of the event. Tessa and I had done it. We pulled off the fashion show. Now we just needed to make it through the auction.
Everyone who had been working backstage came out onto stage with their pedestals—the ones we had been dragging around the first day of rehearsals. I noticed Ashley had taken over my position of placing a pedestal downstage left.
After the pedestals were in place, the stage filled with fog and all the models came out to take one last walk and a bow. But something was wrong. The girls looked bewildered and were staring off into the wings, looking for—or at—someone. I was puzzled to see that Izzy was not onstage with the rest of the girls. The fog was getting thicker and thicker. And then it hit me.
This was not fog. It was smoke.
“Zachary, we’ve got to get out of here.”
“Are you not feeling well? I knew this was too much for you.”
“No. Not just me. All of us. The theater is on fire. I swear to you.”
“Jax, it’s just fog.”
“Smell it. Just stop and smell it,” I said.
Zachary paused and took a deep breath. “I think you’re right. Now, we can’t cause a panic, you’re not supposed to yell fire in a crowded theater,” Zachary said, looking around for exit options.<
br />
Several people stood up in seats behind us, and there was a buzz of conversation through the crowd, as the audience sensed something was wrong.
“I just need to get to Tessa. She can stop the show,” I said, rising from my seat and side stepping to the aisle.
Zachary told Bev to start an orderly evacuation. I told Craig the same thing.
“I’ll call this into the fire department, then I’m headed for the fire alarm,” Zachary said as he pulled out his phone and headed toward the lobby.
I went up the side steps and into the wings. The backstage was filling with smoke. I found Tessa. She’d just pulled the plug on the smoke machine and had figured out the smoke was coming from somewhere else.
“We’ve got to get everyone out of here. I think we’ve got the start of a fire somewhere,” I said.
“I’ll round up the girls and get them to the parking lot,” Tessa said.
“Okay, and I’ll make sure we get Val and Uncle Freddie. Anyone else we need to find back here?”
“No, but what about the audience?” she asked.
“We’ve got Craig and Bev in the audience to make sure everyone gets out safely. Zachary’s calling the fire department. Be careful,” I told her as she turned and headed off into the smoky darkness.
TWENTY-THREE
Uncle Freddie tromped off the stage as the models exited on the other side with Tessa.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked me. “Can’t we just turn off the damn smoke machine?”
“Tessa turned it off, but it looks like we’ve got something worse going on. I think we’ve got a fire in the building somewhere. We’ve got to evacuate. Can you go out and announce that everyone needs to get to an exit? We’ve got to get everyone out before the building bursts into flames, but we don’t want anyone to panic and start a stampede.”
Uncle Freddie strutted back out onto the stage.
“Weren’t those young ladies fantastic? Another round of applause for our models. Now, we’re having a little technical difficulty. Everyone, I’d like you to make your way out to Yesler Square through the lobby. I’m sure we’ll be back in business again soon.”
Just then the fire alarm sounded and the sprinklers started pouring down on our heads. The cat was out of the bag now, and a wave of panic rolled through the audience.
“Please, everyone,” Freddie said, “just proceed calmly out of the building.”
I found the lighting panel on the backstage wall and flipped all the switches. The backstage lights blinked on, as well as the lights in the audience.
Uncle Freddie found me backstage.
“Come on, we’ve got to get out of here,” he said.
“Where’s Val?” I asked.
“I don’t know, she was with the girls on the other side of the stage,” Freddie said. “I’m going to go see who is outside and make sure we know how many people you’re looking for. We should have five girls, plus Tessa and Val, right?”
“Right.” Val would be unhappy to hear she was not included as one of the girls. Having just turned forty, Val was no longer a girl, and I’d left that milestone in the dust several years ago.
I ran across the stage to search for anyone left behind. As I looked out into the audience, I was relieved to see the seating area was almost empty.
No one was in the dressing room. The door to the rehearsal space was open, so I headed for the stairs to search there. The smoke was thicker downstairs, and I wondered if this was where the fire had started. I clutched the handrail as I descended the staircase, feeling woozy as I went. I wasn’t sure if that was leftover from the drugs I’d ingested or from the smoke I was inhaling. Stumbling into the rehearsal room, I found Val trying to coax Izzy out of the passage that led to the Underground.
“Come on, Izzy, we’ve got to get out of here!” Val shouted, reaching out to the girl.
“No, no, no,” Izzy said, her hands covering her face. The alarm continued to blare. There were no sprinklers down here, so at least we were dry. “We can’t leave without the guy I followed down here.”
“What guy?”
“I dunno who it was but I was worried he might be coming down here to steal our stuff. My mom told us we could leave our regular clothes and backpacks in this room since there wasn’t much space in the dressing room. But the guy I saw, he’s not here.”
Val grabbed one of Izzy’s arms, and I grabbed the other and we pulled her through the door. Just then, I noticed someone moving in the darkness farther down the passageway.
“Val, you take Izzy to safety. I’ll make my way out in a minute.”
“No, Jax, you’ve got to come with us now,” Val said, reaching out to me.
“I’ll be fine. Now go!”
I turned and ran into the passageway, stumbling past the props and discarded set pieces. Up ahead I saw a figure frantically trying to ignite the box labeled Pyro with a book of matches. I recognized the costume—a hooded figure with a Venetian mask. I rushed toward the person, though I wasn’t sure what I’d do once I reached him—or her. Throwing the matches on the ground, the culprit made a break for it, crashing onwards through the tunnel. I followed, but couldn’t keep up the pace. I made it to the fork in the alleyway, where I’d been snooping just the other night. Which way had the person gone? Up into the box office, or beyond to who knows where?
I headed the only way I knew would take me out to the safety of the lobby. There was no way I wanted to get trapped in the other passage, since I didn’t know whether it was a dead end or not. If I was lucky, whoever was down here with me was headed for the box office as well. Perhaps I’d find him there and Zachary could apprehend him. I huffed up the stairs and heaved open the door into the box office. It was empty. And wet. The sprinklers had stopped, but an alarm still wailed through the building. I let myself out into the lobby and burst out the front door breathing deep lungfuls of the crisp night air. I buckled over to catch my breath.
The fire trucks arrived and several firefighters jogged past me into the theater. I wanted to find Zachary and make sure everyone was safe. I walked slowly through the crowd of people gathered in the square. Just over a hundred people, all slightly damp and smelling faintly of smoke were standing in Yesler Square frightened and confused—but safe.
I had started the night out on the wimpy end of the spectrum—I’d never spent much time on the strong end—and was now exhausted. I found Zachary standing on a bench surveying the scene. He hopped down when he caught sight of me, took me in his arms, and held me tight.
“Thank goodness you’re okay,” he said. “You are okay, aren’t you?” He released me, and wiped a little smudge of soot from my cheek.
“I’m fine, but you need to know—I saw a guy in the Underground—”
A firefighter interrupted me and pulled Zachary away to consult on the situation. When Zachary returned, he told me the fire had been extinguished but that there was still lingering smoke, and the floors and seats were soaked with water from the sprinklers. There was no way we were getting back into the theater. We hadn’t even gotten to the most important part of the event, when we raised money for HAT during the auction. There was nothing left we could do. We had overcome so many obstacles, but we simply couldn’t recover from this. All I wanted to do now was go home and crawl into bed.
Uncle Freddie found me in the crowd.
“So, what do you want to do?” he asked.
“Give up,” I said. “I want to give up.” I plopped myself onto a nearby bench, and put my head in my hands.
“We can’t do that. We’ve got money to raise. Now, I think if we can gather everyone around over at the bandstand, I’ll get up there and we’ll keep going. What do you say?” Uncle Freddie wasn’t going to give up.
“But some of our auction items are still inside. They’re probably ruined by the smoke and water,” I said.
&n
bsp; “We’re going to improvise,” Freddie said, strutting off to find his helpers for the auction.
Moments later Uncle Freddie jumped on the bandstand stage to start the auction as if nothing had happened. He was a professional, through and through. Some of the volunteers, with the consent of the firefighters, rolled out a spotlight from the theater to give some much-needed light to Freddie on his makeshift stage.
“And now, as many of you know, we had a chandelier that we were going to auction off tonight,” Freddie said. “Although the chandelier was destroyed in a tragic accident, the police have given us permission to auction what remains. For a good cause, of course.” Just then, two uniformed officers appeared out of nowhere with two storage tubs full of glass pieces. I looked at Zachary, my mouth agape. “You said I couldn’t have them.”
“Well, you couldn’t have them then, but we’ve got everything we need from them, so I pulled a few strings so we could release them.”
“Wow. Thanks for doing that. I hope I win those bins of glass!” I really wanted them. Unfortunately, so did Tessa.
“Opening bid is $200,” Uncle Freddie shouted.
Tessa raised her bidding card.
“We have a bid of $200 from bidder number 47.”
She and I got into a ridiculous bidding war, with neither of us backing down. On and on we went, each of us upping the bid of the other. Finally, I stopped the madness.
“Tessa, please, let’s stop. I’ll split it with you, okay?”
Tessa nodded in agreement. I jumped up from the bench, waving my bidding card for what I hoped would be the last time.
“Going once, twice, sold! Sold to bidder number 66,” Uncle Freddie shouted.
I realized my number was upside down.
“No, sorry! That’s bidder number 99. My card was upside down,” I shouted, flipping my card right side up.
“Sold to number 99, then,” Uncle Freddie corrected as a volunteer approached me to get my contact and payment details.
“Whew!” I had won. I had grand plans for those bits and pieces. I planned to make a mosaic from some of the smaller pieces, and I hoped Tessa would want some of the larger pieces for a light fixture of her own, if we could put enough parts back together.
To Bead or Not to Bead, Glass Bead Mystery Series, Book 4 Page 18