Sinister Stage: A Ghost Story Romance and Mystery (Wicks Hollow Book 5)

by Colleen Gleason

  “And here we are,” chirped Iva after what felt like an eternity to Vivien. The car swung around a sharp corner then jolted to a halt, tires grinding on gravel, and she finally opened her eyes.

  “Oh, dear, is all that broken glass on the ground over there from your car, Vivien? I heard someone took a bat or something to it,” Iva said. “And there’ve been some horrible threats against you too? I simply can’t imagine who would do such a thing. Whoever would do such a thing must be a very unhappy person.”

  “Or totally whacked in the head,” said Maxine. “I vote for whacked in the head.”

  Vivien didn’t bother to reply as she unlocked the door to the theater. She knew better than to suggest that the ladies get back to their Scrabble game; they were sticking to her like burrs and were going inside whether she wanted them there or not.

  “And how was your romantic dinner with that delicious Elwood DeRiccio?” asked Juanita, beaming as she slipped past Vivien into the lobby.

  Apparently there was no such thing as privacy in Wicks Hollow.

  “We just went to get takeout for his dad,” Vivien said nonchalantly.

  “That’s not what Ricky told Doug Horner,” said Juanita. “You were gone for over two hours, he said. You don’t mind if Brucie looks around, do you?” She patted the little dog’s head as he poked his nose over the edge of his carrier.

  “Uh…not as long as he knows where to do his business,” Vivien replied, suddenly feeling terribly guilty about leaving Ricky DeRiccio in the hospital by himself while she and Jake had a definitely non-romantic, purely businesslike dinner while waiting for the carry-out.

  Until Jake kissed her at the car.

  “My goodness, Vivien, your cheeks are awfully pink. Are you feeling all right?” Iva said as she walked in past her. The short, curvy woman sailed through the lobby and into the house, her blue and white silk scarf fluttering at her throat. Her arms were spread wide as if she were opening herself to whatever ghostly entities might abound, and Vivien hurried after her…just in case.

  After all, the last time she’d been here, she’d given the ghost a bit of a lecture. For all she knew, the phantom of her opera might have taken umbrage with the set-down.

  But the stage was silent and dark, the house empty and still. It was lit only by the lights Vivien had turned on—more than the other day now that many of the bulbs had been replaced, but still fewer than it would be when everything was up and running.

  “Oh, it’s so much easier to feel the energy now that the place is quiet and empty—nearly empty,” Iva said from the stage. She turned in a slow circle in front of the scaffolding that remained in place, her arms still wide and open.

  “I feel your presence, all of you,” she announced to the room at large. “Speak to me if you will… I’m open, prepared to be your vessel of communication…”

  Vivien’s heart was in her throat as she hurried to the stage, knowing that at any moment, all hell could break loose.

  Liv, if you’re here, make sure it—they—whoever—doesn’t do anything, please.

  “I feel you,” said Iva, still spinning in a slow circle. She ignored the sudden high-pitched yapping of Bruce Banner, who’d been turned loose among the audience seats and had found either a rodent or a scrap of paper that clearly needed to be put in its place.

  Juanita and Maxine were arguing as they clomped down the aisle on the far left of the house, and Vivien was grateful she was far enough away she couldn’t hear what this particular topic was, although she caught a phrase that sounded like “…from a trapeze…” that made her blood run cold.

  Thank goodness Arsenic and Old Lace didn’t have any elements that needed special effects.

  Vivien stepped onto the stage just as Iva finished her slow circle and opened her eyes.

  “Nothing yet,” she said soothingly to Vivien. “Don’t worry; just give them time. They must be a little shy.”

  Right.

  “I’ll just—”

  A sudden chilly breeze ruffled Vivien’s hair, and Iva’s cornflower-blue eyes went wide.

  “I feel something,” she said in a stage whisper.

  Vivien looked around, waiting for craziness, ready to leap into action to protect her unanticipated charges…but it was only a breeze. A definitely cold, definitely sharp, definitely not normal movement of the air, but that was it. No rattling, shaking, horrible-smelling, light-flashing events.

  “I feel it,” whispered Iva, holding her hands in front of her. “Her. It’s a female… All right…I’m coming…”

  She began to walk off stage right, her arms held out in front of her, almost as if she were in a trance. Vivien would have been terrified if Iva hadn’t tossed a look over her shoulder at her and mouthed, “Come on!”

  Vivien took two steps when she realized that it was dead quiet—Bruce Banner had stopped barking and Maxine and Juanita had stopped arguing. She looked over and saw the little dog on one of the steps of the stage. He was vibrating with tension, highly alert with his ears perked up, eyes wide, and a bit of a silent, snaggle-toothed snarl showing.

  Juanita and Maxine—shockingly silent—stood there, looking around as if they, too, felt the change in the air.

  Vivien waffled for a moment, then went after Iva.

  She followed the older woman, who was still walking as if in a trance, backstage. But when Iva reached the stairs leading to the pit, Vivien rushed forward to take her by the arm.

  “No, let’s not go by the stairs,” she said, her heart pounding. Iva could have tumbled down them without even realizing it.

  “She wants me to go down there,” Iva said, a little too dreamily for Vivien’s comfort.

  “No,” Vivien said. “I think it’s better if you stay up here.” And leave. Get out of here before something horrible happens. “Uh, it’s very dark and there are a lot of things down there you could trip on or cut yourself on…”

  Iva blinked and jolted as the breeze became a virtual gust, cold and rough and sharp, bringing stinging air and the not-so-subtle putridness of death.

  “It’s time to leave,” Vivien said firmly, her skin prickling and her hair standing on end. She needed to get them out of here.

  “But—” Iva began.

  “I’ve got a meeting I’ve got to be back for. I forgot,” Vivien said. Keeping hold of Iva’s arm, she pulled the elderly lady none-too-gently away from the danger of stairs down into darkness, even as the wind tossed and buffeted at them from behind.

  “Maxine, Juanita,” she called as she rushed Iva out onto the stage. “We’ve got to go— I forgot I…”

  Bruce Banner was standing there onstage, legs far apart, ears back, tail tucked. His ruff was straight up and his eyes were wide, practically bugging out of his little skull as he looked behind Vivien and Iva.

  Vivien turned just in time to see the scaffolding move, barreling toward them as if some ghostly hand had shoved it with all its might. The lights and catwalk above began to shake and rattle violently as bulbs flashed on and off like in a disco.

  “Run!” she cried.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “It was the most amazing, frightening, exciting thing I’ve ever seen!” exclaimed the short, grandmotherly woman with pink cheeks and bright blue eyes. “Hollis, you would have been gobsmacked!”

  Jake was pretty sure the older lady’s name was Iva Bergstrom, but he wouldn’t put money on it. He was still gobsmacked himself by the sudden, overwhelming arrival of three loud and excited women, each carrying various bundles of food, and one small, yippy dog at his father’s house—which had already been invaded by Doug Horner and Hollis Nath, the veterinarian’s golfing buddy and apparently Iva Bergstrom’s significant other.

  “The whole place was shaking and lights were flashing, and the wind—it was like being in the middle of a tornado inside a building!” Iva went on as she took a seat next to Nath in one of the chairs on Pop’s back deck.

  From what Jake could gather, she was telling his father and
their friends about something that had happened earlier today, but he hadn’t caught the details. Jake was too busy waiting on all of the unexpected guests who must have learned his pop’s ETA at home after being released from the hospital.

  He’d never believe his dad again when he claimed he didn’t use his phone to text, because Pop sure as hell hadn’t called anyone.

  It wasn’t until Jake heard “Vivien” and “theater” that he realized the context of the events, and he bobbled the stack of glasses and almost dropped them along with the pitcher of iced tea he was carrying to the shaded deck. The glasses and pitcher were all plastic (a prudent choice when dealing with excitable retirees and outdoor venues), but he still didn’t want to have to wash everything again.

  “Uh…what were you saying, Mrs.…Bergstrom, is it?”

  “Oh, honey, just call me Iva. I might be nearly seventy, but I feel like I’m barely your age,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. “And yes, I’d just love some iced tea. How nice of you! Ricky, your boy is simply the sweetest young man. I don’t understand why some young woman hasn’t snatched him up yet.”

  Pop grunted in begrudging assent—probably because he’d wanted a beer and Jake had nixed that because of the medication he was still taking.

  “I’ll take iced tea,” Maxine Took informed Jake before he could press Iva for more details. “And some of your homemade bread—I know you got some inside; your daddy told us. Don’t you be opening up the things we brought—those’re for your daddy, you know. Bread with butter would be just about right. Been a long damned time and lots of excitement since breakfast at the tea shop. Makes a girl hangry, you know. And don’t you be playing shy around us, Elwood. We’re just normal folk like the rest of you—even though we just saw a ghost throw a tantrum.”

  “A ghost?” Jake managed to say. “Where was this?” Please not the theater. Please not the—

  “Why, it was at the theater with Vivien,” said Iva. “Weren’t you listening, Elwood, honey? It was quite a show she—it was definitely a she—put on. If only you could have been there!”

  If only.

  Jake gritted his teeth and nodded. “So, really? A ghost?”

  “And it was most definitely a female entity—wouldn’t you agree, Juanita?” said Iva.

  “Oh, sí,” replied Juanita, sitting like a queen in her chair in a flowing yellow dress. She’d inched her seat closer to Doug Horner, who was drinking a beer (which was probably why Pop was still giving Jake dagger eyes). “It was certainly a feminine spirit. Bruce Banner always puts his ears forward when he doesn’t like a man, but when it’s a female he’s not sure about, he puts his ears back. His ears were definitely back, weren’t they, bebecito mio?” she said into the face of the small black, white, and brown dog she held on her generous lap.

  “Bruce Banner?” Jake found it easy to allow himself to get sidetracked by something more mundane than ghosts and their gender.

  “He’s named after the Hunk,” Maxine told him as she snatched the cup of iced tea he’d just poured. “That green monster with the raggedy pants—his alter ego. Bruce Banner. ‘You wouldn’t like me when I’m hangry’ from that old TV show—that’s what he says, you know, and it’s true about that rat-dog Bruce there. You’re going about minding your own business and you reach over to pet him like this and—”

  Snarl! The little dog nearly launched himself from Juanita’s lap as Maxine’s hand swept toward his head. His tiny body quivered as if he were about to attack, his beady black eyes bright and wary. He looked like a long-haired chihuahua except for the huge, butterflylike ears whose position could apparently indicate whether a spiritual presence was male or female.

  Jake wondered what would happen if the ghost was nonbinary, and then decided he might need a beer—or something far stronger—if he was really worried about that sort of detail.

  “See what I mean?” Maxine said, reaching out to pet Bruce again, and once again had to snatch back her hand before the tiny little teeth grabbed her.

  “All right, Maxine, you’ve had your fun,” Juanita said, batting her friend’s hand away. “Elwood, love, if it’s not too much trouble, I’ll have some bread and butter too.”

  “Bring out the ham and cheese, Elwood,” his pop said. “And the good spicy mustard—this stuff’s great,” he added to Doug Horner. “It’s gotta be half horseradish, I swear. I can feel it burn right through my gut, and the damned mustard seeds get all up in my dentures, but damn, it’s good going down.”

  Jake escaped inside to the kitchen and began to put together a tray of snacks. Fortunately, he’d stopped at the store after dropping Vivien at her house last night and had picked up a bunch of food for his dad to have on hand. He hadn’t expected the Tuesday Ladies to bring food as well—enough to feed an army for a month. They’d paraded in carrying huge bags of casseroles, sandwiches, containers of soup, a roasted chicken, scones, muffins, and two whole pies. All for just his dad?

  But apparently those items weren’t allowed to be served right now…

  He shook his head. He’d never quite understood the rules of hospitality.

  He scrabbled around for the ham and cheese he’d been ordered to bring out, then found the pot of spicy mustard and the pumpernickel bread he’d baked last week and brought with him (it had been frozen, but no need to tell that to Maxine and her crew). He filled a bowl with cherries he’d grabbed at the store last night and put a few Cherry Newtons (his pop’s favorite) on the tray as well. That might tide over the hordes.

  And then he picked up his phone…and hesitated.

  For the first time in over ten years, he was going to text Vivien. She’d know who it was, since she’d never deleted his number from her phone.

  That had to mean something, didn’t it? She’d never deleted his number.

  He hesitated more, then chewed himself out for being an idiot, and typed the message: The Tuesday Ladies met your ghost?!

  Her response was almost immediate: Kill me now.

  Where are you? He hoped she wasn’t still at the theater. By herself.

  Home. Made an escape and came back to work. Louise London is making me glad she’s six hundred miles away rn…

  He breathed a sigh of relief. Have been invaded by Tuesday Ladies and others at Pop’s. Dinner later? His palms were a little sweaty and his belly fluttery, for Pete’s sake, as he pressed send…and then waited for her reply.

  Depends who’s involved.

  The flutter went to a low burn and he started to respond, but a second text came in from Vivien before he finished: I mean, if Ricky’s going to be there…

  Jake gave a short laugh and tried to decide how to respond, but before he could, he heard the unmistakable thumping of Maxine’s cane approaching.

  “You get lost in there, Elwood?” she demanded through the screen door. “We’re all about to expire from lack of sustenance.”

  “Oh, sorry,” he said, turning sharply. The phone squirted out of his hand into the sink, which, thankfully, wasn’t filled with water. He snatched it back out and began to towel off the few droplets that clung to it. “I’ll be right ou—”

  The screen door slammed. “Gotta use the john,” said Maxine, thumping in with her cane. “Old bladder ain’t what it used to be.”

  “Sure, right down that hall…”

  But she was already heading that way. “Just glad I didn’t pee my pants when that ghost business started happening.” She paused in the hallway, the whites of her eyes gleaming in her dark face. “I’ve seen some scary shit in my life, but that was just about enough to turn my hair dead white.”

  Jake could relate. He glanced down the hall and saw that Maxine was out of sight, giving him a moment of peace to respond to Vivien.

  Sadly, Pop will be out of commission tonight. I’ll make sure of it. Dinner at my place, watch the sun set?

  He was carrying the tray out to the deck when he heard the text alert ding through the
kitchen window, and he hurried to lay everything out so he could see whether she’d go for it. He was more nervous than when he’d asked out the goddess Amanda Grifton all those years ago.

  Damn—he’d forgotten napkins, and hurried back inside to get them, still refusing to let himself look at his phone until the guests and their refreshments were settled.

  Maxine was just stepping out of the bathroom as he came back in. “Now you come on and sit with us, Elwood, so we can tell you all about that ghost and you can tell us just what’s going on with you and our Vivien Leigh. Iva and Juanita get all nosy about stuff like that, and I won’t hear the end of it until we get all the juicy details.”

  She curled her gnarled, arthritic fingers around his arm and, like it or not, the next thing Jake knew, he was being maneuvered onto the deck…

  …with his phone still sitting on the kitchen counter, leaving him in suspense about what Vivien’s answer was.

  It was over an hour later that he finally had the chance to look.

  Haven’t bought new shampoo yet…what time?

  Vivien was ready when Jake picked her up at seven thirty.

  “Sorry about the choppy comms this afternoon,” he said.

  “You said you’d been invaded by the Tuesday Ladies. I understood the delay,” she said with a grin. “That’s how they ended up at the theater today. Maxine and Co. give new meaning to the term ‘railroaded.’” She picked up the tote bag that conspicuously held a bottle of wine, her tablet, and her wallet, as well as—far less conspicuously—some overnight things.

  Juuuust in case.

  “Ah…is it all right if we stop by Pop’s house? He asked me to pick up something at the store, but I think it’s just an excuse for him to see you.”

  Vivien was delighted. “Yes, of course. I’d love to see him. Did you already get the thing he wanted from the store?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “I’d like to bring him some flowers— Wait a sec. I’ll cut some from the backyard.”

  “Pop’ll be over the moon if you bring him flowers,” Jake told her with a grin.