We climbed the three steps to the stage. The first scene, Aunt Em's farmstead, was set up. "Remember when you saw me painting the farmhouse?" she asked, still using a library voice.
I nodded. "Yes, I remember."
We sidled past a barn and a few trees to the farmhouse. It was the same large wooden facade that had fallen on Amanda after her death. It was never completely confirmed how the prop fell or if it was done intentionally by the killer.
"We finished repairing it after it was damaged." Constance grew quiet for a second. "Well, you know why."
"Yes."
"I was helping the prop guys wheel it in to set it back in place on the stage." She crooked her finger for me to follow her to the back of the farmhouse. The rear was unpainted plywood, which made it hard to miss the shiny piece of foil stuck on the wood.
We walked straight to the silver paper. It was the thin metallic kind that artists used to give an object the look of real metal. The roughly edged strip was approximately four inches long and two inches wide. It was caught on the wood edge of the facade. It had plastered itself against the bare wood.
"I noticed the piece of silver when we were positioning the house on stage," Constance said. "I know where it came from too," she added.
"My guess would be that it came from the Tin Man's costume," I said.
"Yep, I can show you the damage on his costume," she said confidently. "It's stored in the costume trailer."
"If you're sure you won't get into trouble. I would like to see it."
She glanced at her phone. "Yes, it'll be easy. The costume designer and wardrobe assistants are in a staff meeting with Susie. But we'll have to hurry."
"Great." I pulled out my own phone. "If you don't mind, before we go, I'd like to take a few pictures of this silver. That way, I can show Detective Briggs."
"Yes," she said a little too enthusiastically. "Yes," she said calmly. "That would be fine."
I wasn't great at taking pictures of evidence, so I took a half dozen shots at different angles.
I pushed the phone back into my pocket. "Let's see the costume."
We walked back to the exit and did everything in reverse. Constance stuck her face through and turned it side to side to make sure the coast was clear. She stepped out and waved me through before tying the flaps back together.
We walked more casually, as if just on a stroll, around the tent. We continued on the pathway toward the costume trailer. A few people seemed to notice the unusual pair walking through the activity, but Constance just smiled and waved as if nothing of note was going on.
Fortunately, the costume trailer had been parked behind a copse of trees. It was hard to see the door from the pathway. We stepped off the path and meandered toward the trees.
Constance glanced back behind us. "It's fine. No one is paying attention to us." She picked up her pace, making quick work of the section of grass between us and the trailer. "Let me go up first and knock," she said. "I can always find a reason for knocking on the trailer door, but it would be harder to explain why you're here."
I nodded. "You're pretty good at this spy stuff," I said. "Maybe you should become a private investigator."
She giggled at my suggestion before climbing the steps to the door. She knocked firmly and waited, then knocked once more. She waved me to come up the steps.
I looked around once and followed her up the steps and into the trailer. It was a tiny space packed wall to wall and shelf to shelf with colorful costumes and hats. There was an entire section of wall filled with pairs of flying monkey wings hanging from hooks. They'd been fashioned with real feathers and were quite impressive close up.
"Your costume designers are talented," I said as I looked around in awe.
"Yes, they are. The producers spared no expense for this traveling play. We were doing well until this happened." She said it flippantly as if Amanda's death had been a terrible inconvenience to everyone.
"Will the show go on?" I asked.
"I'm pretty sure Susana will have no choice but to reschedule opening night and the subsequent shows." Constance looked more than delighted at the prospect. I supposed that was because she would step into the starring role.
Constance squeezed between two racks of costumes, and I slid in after her. The fuzzy tan costume for the Cowardly Lion was hanging in the middle of the rack. The long tail was pinned to the shoulder. It was easy to spot the Tin Man's iconic cylindrical costume. Especially after I'd run right into it on the corner. When I thought back to that incident, Johnny acted inappropriately and forward then too. He was obviously a man who considered himself entitled to paw at any woman he pleased.
Constance sized up the tight space between the two racks. "You'll have to squeeze past me to get a look at the tear. It's on the back near the shoulder joint."
"Right. Can I take a picture?"
"Sure, but just like before, let's be quick about this. The meeting could end at any time. It depends on how much Susie has to discuss."
"I'll hurry." Giddiness was starting to overtake me, the kind I experienced whenever I felt close to solving a crime. It seemed that the evidence Constance was showing me would be explosive to the case. It would figure that grabby, awful man would be capable of murder.
I squeezed past Constance and reached the Tin Man's suit. "Rosemary," I said under my breath. "That should have been the clue."
"What's that?" Constance asked. She had slid out to the end of the rack to keep an eye on the window.
"Oh nothing." I leaned over and twisted around the silver cylinder. Sure enough, a section that matched the piece of silver paper on the house had been ripped from the costume. I held up my phone and snapped a couple highly unprofessional photos.
"We should probably go," Constance said with some urgency.
"Finished. Let's go."
Constance peered out the door and looked from side to side. She opened it and we both hurried down the steps and back to the copse of trees. Constance seemed as giddy as me.
"Do you think this is going to be important to the case? Do you think Johnny did it?" she asked.
"This doesn't prove anything," I said quickly. "Make sure you don't say anything to anyone. It could compromise the case."
"So Johnny did do it?" She was practically rubbing her hands together in glee, which made me wonder if Constance had also been the victim of Johnny's unwanted advances.
"No, I didn't say that at all."
Her mouth pushed out in a disappointed pout. "How can you explain the silver on the house?"
"I'll admit this doesn't look great for Johnny, but it's not enough for an arrest. I'll show Detective Briggs the photos. In the meantime, keep it to yourself. If Johnny is the killer, I don't want you putting yourself in danger by telling others what you've found."
She pressed her fingers to her mouth dramatically. "I hadn't thought of that. Thanks. You're right. Mums the word." She surveyed the area. "You go first. Then I'll walk out after you so we're not seen leaving together."
"Good idea. Thanks for the information."
Chapter 28
I practically skipped back to Harbor Lane and the Port Danby Police Department. I gave a little cheer when I saw Briggs' car parked out front. I pulled open the door.
Hilda peered up over the tall counter to see who had walked inside. "Lacey, I haven't seen you in ages." She stood up. "Have you lost weight?"
"You always know just the right thing to say to make my day, Hilda, and I wish I could give you an affirmative on that but I think I'm about the same."
"Well, you have a perfect shape anyhow." Hilda hit the buzzer to open the gate. "He's in his office."
"Thanks." I knocked lightly and popped my head inside.
"Hey, I was just about to call you," Briggs said. His big, loveable dog came prancing around the desk to greet me.
"Bear, what an unexpected pleasure." I stooped down to hug the dog and receive a proper amount of wet kisses. "Why is he here?"
"Well,
his usual babysitter, my neighbor, had a doctor's appointment. I was about to walk out the door and leave him alone with his chew toy and pillow, but he stared up at me with those big, sad eyes. So I decided to bring him to work. It's like one of those bring your kids to work days only my kid has big floppy ears and clumsy paws."
After a reasonable amount of hugs and kisses, I stood up straight. "How is the case going?" I asked, unable to hold back the excitement in my tone.
Briggs noticed. He suppressed a smile as he walked around to the front of his desk and leaned against it with crossed arms and ankles. "Not too sure but I think you're about to tell me. You look like you're bursting to tell me something."
"I might have some evidence that'll lead to an eventual arrest." I decided to draw out the suspense a bit.
"I sure hope so because the person at the top of my list, Gordon Houser, has been cleared by some of his coworkers. I questioned several today. They all said he was on stage at 3:30, so he couldn't have sent the text to Amanda."
"This evidence has to do with another cast member, Johnny Vespo, the Tin Man."
"Really? What did you find out? I hope you're not doing anything dangerous," he added unnecessarily at the end.
I tilted my head. "Really?"
He sighed. "You're right. Sorry. What did you find out?"
I pulled out my phone. "It'll be easier to show you first." I pulled up the best photo of the silver paper. "Constance, the actress you met, who I told you was dating Gordon Houser, ran into me when I was down by the town square. She was quite distressed when she caught up to me because she had discovered that piece of silver on the back of the house, Aunt Em's farmhouse that fell on Amanda." I grinned with satisfaction.
Briggs stared at the picture for a moment then looked at me. "I don't understand the significance."
My satisfied grin melted. "Seriously? The Tin Man, somehow or another, ripped his costume on the very prop that the killer pushed onto his victim. There haven't been any shows or rehearsals since that night, so when would he have ripped the costume? And I saw the costume too." I was speaking quickly not wanting to lose my somewhat disinterested audience. I swiped through the photos to the costume and pushed it toward his face. He leaned back and squinted at the picture.
"Yes, that looks like the Tin Man's costume, and I'd say there's no question that the silver paper on the prop came from that costume."
I lowered my phone. My earlier giddiness was flowing away. Had I jumped to conclusions because I was disgusted with Johnny Vespo and his rude behavior? "I was sure this was significant."
"Lacey, I inspected that whole set along with the team. I don't see how we could have missed that piece of silver paper. It must have happened afterward."
"We just need to ask Susana or someone if there's been any dress rehearsals or reasons to suit up since Thursday night. She can confirm whether or not Johnny had to wear his costume since that night. But since Constance was the one to point it out, it seems like she would have brought up getting in costume since opening night." I could hear myself on the defensive, but I felt strongly about the evidence. I couldn't figure out why he didn't seem convinced.
"Just doesn't make sense that we missed that very noticeable piece of silver, but let's go there right now so I can see its exact location. Maybe it was overlooked. Stranger things have happened. Can you take the time to go with me, or have you already spent your entire break snooping around town square?"
"Let me text Ryder and make sure he doesn't need me. I don't want to miss seeing your face when you see that piece of silver sitting plain as day on the back of that house."
He patted Bear on the head. "I'll certainly be second guessing my detective abilities if I missed that major piece of evidence."
"Maybe I'll have to teach you what I know," I quipped as we headed out of the office.
Chapter 29
I spoke with the Tin Man actor a few times," Briggs said on our walk to the town square. "He comes off as cocky and a know it all, but he had a few witnesses to corroborate that he went back to his trailer right after dress rehearsal."
"But did anyone see him after that?" I was still actively trying to find a good reason for Briggs to arrest Johnny Vespo. At the same time, I was trying to convince myself it wasn't because of the incident on the wharf. I hadn't mentioned it to Briggs and was still debating whether I should bring it up. Would it help or hurt my case? It would definitely make Briggs mad, but I needed him to think with a cool head. I didn't want to be the cause of a false arrest.
"I don't have confirmation or denial on that," he said. "Let's see what we find out."
We rounded the corner to Pickford Way. A boy about ten years old pointed at me and tugged at his mom's sleeve. "Look, Mom, it's the lady who saved the pelican."
It seemed my fifteen minutes of fame hadn't faded yet. Briggs was staring at the side of my face as I tried to nonchalantly continue our walk.
"You saved a pelican? My word, woman, when do you find time in the day?"
"I guess I don't waste a minute of my life."
"Would you like to tell me about it?" he asked.
It was my opportunity to bring up the incident on the wharf. I hoped it would shed some light on Johnny's character.
We stopped just before reaching the town square. "The pelican story wasn't all that impressive. The poor bird was caught in some fishing line and I untangled it. Now, you may ask why I was on the wharf helping out a bird and I will tell you, but you must promise not to blow your stack."
He laughed dryly. "Blow my stack?"
"You heard me."
"Fine, I'll keep my stack on. What happened?"
"I was snooping around the theater tent but found nothing." Before he could mention the silver I spoke up. "I didn't go inside, so I wouldn't have seen the silver. But I spotted Johnny Vespo walking along the wharf. I decided to follow him, discretely, just to see what he was up to. I wondered if maybe he was meeting someone. I'm not really sure why but there was rosemary on the victim and on the Tin Man, and the guy just has this unlikeable way about him. So I followed him, keeping my distance like a good investigator. Then the whole pelican thing happened, and I stopped to be the 'lady who saved the pelican'. There's going to be a plaque and everything." I waved my hand. "Anyhow, that detour caused me to lose sight of my target. I couldn't find Johnny, but I decided to head toward the marina in case he had wandered through the boat slips. Then someone grabbed my hand."
I caught a flicker in his dark eyes. He was working hard to keep that stack on, whatever that meant. "Go on," he said, his jaw tighter than normal.
"Remember your promise," I said fleetingly, then poured out the rest of it. "Johnny had grabbed my hand. He saw me help the pelican, apparently, so he followed me."
"What did he want?" His words were dry and short.
"I don't know. I guess he was being forward. I yanked my hand away, but he grabbed it again."
His jaw was clenched tighter now.
I pointed at it. "See, see that thing you're doing with your jaw, that indicates a stack being blown. But don't waste your energy. It was fine. I finally told him to bug off and he did." I almost left out the part where Dash stared him down with a threatening glare. Since Dash was one of Briggs least favorite people, I knew it would only cause problems. But Dash had witnessed a similar incident between Johnny and Amanda. And while he'd relayed what he saw to Officer Chinmoor, I got the feeling Chinmoor never told his boss.
I peered up at Briggs. Trying to assess his level of tension. He was wound pretty tight, but I needed to tell him the rest.
"There's more," I said meekly. "But it's not about me."
He seemed to release a breath he'd been holding. "Go on."
"During my little incident with Johnny—"
"Adding in the word little doesn't make me less mad."
"It was worth a shot. Anyhow, I had a little—" I cleared my throat. "I had help getting rid of Johnny. Dash happened to see the whole thing. He basic
ally glared Johnny right off the wharf."
His jaw twitch remained steady. "Of all the names you could have added to make this story less aggravating, it was that one."
I put my hands on my hips. "He was there to help, or did you miss that part?"
He gave a half-hearted nod. "I'm glad he stepped in."
"Me too. He also had a tidbit of information about Johnny. Dash said he saw Johnny with Amanda on the wharf on Thursday morning. They seemed to just be flirting at first, then things got tense. Amanda had to push him away to get free of him. Dash said after the murder he stopped in to tell Officer Chinmoor what he witnessed. Did Chinmoor ever tell you about it?"
He rubbed his chin in thought. "No, I would have remembered that." His sigh was heavy with frustration. "I'll have to talk to Chinmoor about that."
"So, you see, Johnny's not a nice guy, and it seems Amanda rejected him that morning. Something I learned, firsthand, he doesn't take kindly to." It was a mistake to bring up my involvement again, but I couldn't draw the words back in once they were out.
"I'd like to talk to this guy, Johnny." Briggs started walking purposefully toward the theater action.
I grabbed his arm to stop him. "How does a man who stays poker face calm when questioning possible murderers lose his cool so quickly with a simple story that turned out to be harmless?"
His dark eyes flickered with emotion for a second. Then he nodded in agreement. "Right, let's find the evidence to arrest him. Then he's all mine."
I blew out a loud sigh. "Glad we smoothed that out," I said wryly.
"It's your fault," he said as we continued on toward the tent.
"What's my fault?"
"My reaction. Guess the only way to avoid it is for me to stop caring about you so much."
I stumbled at his words. He caught my arm and pulled me closer for a second. "Do you want me to stop caring about you so much?"
Freesias and Foul Play Page 13
