Murder Takes Center Stage

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Murder Takes Center Stage Page 2

by Tracy D. Comstock


  "Way to end on a high note," Tad said quietly in her ear.

  Emily jumped. "Why are you always sneaking up on me like that?"

  Tad gave a light laugh. "I like to see you flustered. What do you say we…?"

  But whatever he had been about to suggest was cut off by a high-pitched voice exclaiming, "What a boon for your little stage production, Ms. Taylor. Of course, if you had wanted James's help, all you had to do was ask me."

  Emily turned to see Sapphira stalking toward her on mile-high stilettos. She was ready to head home and spend what remained of her evening relaxing with Tad, but it looked like Sapphira was not going away without a chance at the spotlight for the evening, per usual. She forced a smile that felt about as natural as students' enthusiasm to return to school after summer break and asked the obligatory question, "Oh, I didn't know you and Mr. Bodley were acquaintances?"

  "Oh yes," Sapphira purred. "We've been seeing quite a bit of each other since he returned to town to visit. You know he's staying with his aunt?" When Emily nodded, she continued in a simpering voice, "And you know how close we live to Ms. Virginia Fulton…" Emily tried not to smirk. The Jones' house was at least three miles from the stately old Victorian that Virginia Fulton had grown up in and still resided in at the edge of town. Sapphira was continuing, "When Jamie and I bumped into each other on a walk one evening, it was just love at first sight. The two of us have been inseparable."

  While Emily tried to come up with a polite response, she saw her mom charging forward. Before she could interject, Susan said, in a deceptively calm voice, "Really? I don't see him here now. But I do see your daughter is ready to go. I heard her saying she still had a lot of homework to finish."

  The not-so-subtle remark hit home, and with a huff, Sapphira turned and flounced her way out of the auditorium, not even looking back to see if her daughter was following. With a small wave, her pretty face marred by a frown, Jeweliah trailed out after her mother.

  "Oh, that woman makes me mad enough to spit nails! Nice going, Mrs. Taylor!" Destiny did indeed look furious. Her eyes shot sparks, and her cheeks flamed with color. Albert, sensing a chance to make his presence known to Destiny, came up and dropped a calming arm around her shoulders.

  Susan sighed. "I really shouldn't let her get to me like that. My heart just breaks for that beautiful child that she pays no attention to. Jeweliah deserves better."

  "I agree, but unfortunately, we don't get to educate the parents too," Tad said.

  "I, for one, am ready to call it a night," Destiny said with a yawn.

  "You did a great job with rehearsals tonight. I really appreciate all the work you've put into this production. Why don't you go on? Gabby and I will finish straightening up and get the lights."

  "You sure?" Destiny asked, already slinging her purse over her shoulder.

  "Absolutely. We'll help too," Susan told her. With a nod, Destiny headed out, Albert at her side.

  As Susan, Gabby, and Tad put away props, locked doors, and did some general straightening up, they discussed Sapphira's supposed involvement with Bodley. They all agreed that the relationship, if it even existed, was probably much more one-sided than Sapphira had let on. Her tendency to exaggerate was legendary. Emily worried that this turn of events would only lead to more drama for poor Jeweliah. Tad pointed out that, unfortunately, it would also lead to more drama around the production as well.

  "Creating drama is certainly what that woman does best," Susan said, filing away a final left-behind script. "I wonder when Ms. Lowe sneaked out on us?"

  Emily looked around. "I didn't see her leave. Mom, does that woman ever smile?"

  "I think she used to. I don't know what turned her into such a dour old woman. I had hoped that being around all these young kids would bring back some spring to her step, but maybe it's a hopeless cause. Where's your dad?"

  Just then, a voice hailed them from the stage. "I think I finally have the door constructed the way you wanted, Emily. Come check it out, guys."

  Tad helped Ray maneuver the large door to the center of the stage, and they all took turns admiring its construction. Not only would the door serve as a focal point for the scenery, but it was also rigged to have a dummy fall through it when Mr. Boddy was discovered. No one had been cast to play the actual part as the creative writing class had done some tweaking to the script.

  Emily stepped through the door onto the empty stage and felt a shiver run down her spine. Noticing, Tad asked if she was alright. "I'm fine," she laughed. "I guess someone just stepped on my grave."

  "I hate that saying," Gabby said with a frown. "Sounds so morbid. And it always seems like bad luck."

  "And bad luck is something we certainly don't need with the show only a week away," Ray agreed.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The next day, both students and staff were buzzing with the news that Mr. Bodley would be helping with the high school play. Emily collapsed into the closest chair as soon as she entered the staff break room at lunch. Dropping her head to the table, she seriously contemplated just drifting off for a few minutes, rather than going to the trouble of warming up some lunch. Her eyes closed, and she was seconds from dreamland when something cold and wet touched her cheek. She jerked upright, looking around for the source. Tad smiled down at her and wiggled the cold soda can invitingly. "And I have leftover pizza to go with," he said with a smile.

  Emily groaned as she straightened up in her chair and popped the top on the can. Mr. Barnes, a sharp-tongued man who reminded Emily of a toad, entered the room and took a seat next to her. "Long day already, Ms. Taylor?" he asked in his usual charming manner.

  Emily bit back an equally sarcastic reply, remembering that she had promised Helen that she would try to be nicer to him. While she was still floored at the flourishing romance between the two, she could see how good Richard Barnes was for Helen. Trying to force a genuine-looking smile, she said, "The kids are so wound up about meeting Mr. Bodley at play practice tonight that I can hardly keep their attention. We just started a unit on Poe, so you would think they would be more engaged. I feel like I've been dancing, juggling, and pulling out a full circus performance every hour to keep their attention."

  Barnes actually looked genuinely sympathetic. "I know how you feel. The kids are even buzzing about it in chemistry. But you have to admit, Ms. Taylor, it is quite a coup for the school to have one of its own return, after making it big, to help with the annual play. Good for you."

  Emily's jaw dropped open at this unexpected compliment from the usually surly teacher. She glanced at Tad as he carried two steaming plates to the table, raising her eyebrows in question. Tad gave a slight shrug and smiled. He knew better than to get into the middle of the two of them, Emily knew, so she turned and gave Barnes a cheery smile, saying, "Thank you, Mr. Barnes. I assume you will be escorting Helen to the performance?"

  "Wouldn't miss it," he replied. "The sooner this play is over, the sooner our lives can go back to normal." Emily's smile died on her lips. That sounded more like the Barnes they all knew and tolerated.

  By the time Emily was burning her mouth on the hot cheese bubbling on her slice of pizza, several other teachers had joined in the discussion, expressing their excitement about the play and Mr. Bodley's involvement. The enthusiasm around her was contagious, and by the time Emily headed back to class, she felt her energy returning. As she and Tad went their separate ways at the classroom door, Tad noticed her smile and asked, "Aren't you glad you volunteered to take over the play this year?"

  "Ha!" Emily smirked. "You know darn well that I didn't volunteer, but nevertheless—" She paused to beam at the crowd of students enthusiastically discussing tonight's play practice. "—I am thrilled I was coerced into it. I'd forgotten how much fun it was to be involved in something this big. I missed the anticipation, the adrenaline, the chance to inhabit another character's life for awhile."

  "I'm sure it's not too late to add a part for you somewhere in the production. After all, you're
the producer."

  "I've had my time. I'm perfectly content to sit back and watch others enjoy their hour upon the stage," Emily told him. "But if this play goes off as well as I think it just might, I may have missed my calling. Maybe I should do a search for drama teachers needed in some of the larger districts back up north."

  Emily was only teasing. She had been glad to leave behind the large school district she initially taught at to return to her hometown of Ellington, but the look on Tad's face stopped her in her tracks. Dark gray eyes serious and determined, he leaned close enough to whisper, "Pit, now that I have you back in my life, there's no way I am letting you go without a fight." With a soft smile, he turned and headed to his own classroom just as the warning bell rang.

  Emily hugged her arms around herself, feeling a thrill course through her at the intensity in Tad's eyes. She knew he felt strongly for her, and even though she had pined for him practically every waking moment of her junior high and high school years, she still had to pinch herself that they were really and truly a couple now. Normally she would be annoyed at anyone acting so possessive of her, but with Tad, somehow it was different. Turning into her own classroom to delve back into the dark and twisted world of Poe, Emily marveled at how wonderful life seemed at this particular moment. Between her romance with Tad, living back at home in Ellington, a job she adored, and now the excitement of the play, things really did seem too good to be true.

  * * *

  After school, Emily swung by The Patisserie to make sure Mr. Greenbalm still planned on providing a sampling of his treats for the play's production at the next night's rehearsal. As she opened the door to the tinkling of chimes, she inhaled deeply. Being enveloped by the warm, heavenly scents of vanilla, cinnamon, and others she couldn't even identify, she felt her shoulders relax and her mouth begin to water. Mr. Greenbalm sent her a welcoming smile, but as he was busy with other customers at the moment, Emily took the opportunity to peruse the display cases. A display of pumpkin cupcakes topped by a whipped cloud of cream cheese frosting and dotted with tiny candy corns caught her eye, so she ordered one to eat there and one to go, then took her treat and a caramel apple cider to one of the cozy booths by the front windows to wait. Within moments, Mr. Greenbalm scooted his ample frame in across from her, faint puffs of flour following in his wake from his long chef's apron. He took one look at Emily's blissful, eyes-half-closed expression and gave a chuckle. "I take it the cupcakes meet your approval? Maybe I should be serving those tomorrow night instead?"

  Emily washed down her last bite of cupcake with the warm cider and beamed at him. "It's like you've captured fall in a cup. It's wonderful! But I think what you have planned for the play is perfect. Are we still on for tomorrow night?"

  Mr. Greenbalm nodded and pulled a small spiral notebook from the pocket of his apron. "I plan on having six trays altogether, to provide a sampling of all the pastries I will be providing the evening of the actual production. I have honey scones, raspberry scones, chocolate chip scones, mini shrimp quiches, an apple tartlet, and a mini cherry crumble. How does that sound?"

  "Like I've died and gone to heaven." Emily laughed. "I really appreciate all your time and effort on this project. Everyone has been such a big help that I'm truly humbled. We're lucky to live in a community that is so supportive of its school."

  "We're also lucky to have such caring teachers," Mr. Greenbalm reminded her. "Is there anything else I can help with tomorrow night?"

  "Not that I can think of," Emily told him, "unless it's crowd control." At his puzzled expression, she continued, "The students and their parents, too, are over the moon that James Bodley has agreed to help with rehearsals."

  "Ah, I've heard of him," he nodded. "Ms. Virginia's been a steady customer since I opened the shop. She often purchases treats here for her various ladies' card-playing groups. She was telling me all about her famous nephew who was coming to visit and how gracious he was to help out with the school's production."

  Emily was surprised to see a frown marring the man's jovial face. "It is kind of him to offer his time this way. Is something wrong?'

  "No, no." He shrugged his shoulders, and his smile returned. "I just think that anyone who has a chance to help out the school that gave him his start should be more than willing. I don't see it as some gracious offer. I hope the man's not too big for his own britches. But I'm sure it'll be fine," he added hastily, seeing Emily's own frown. Sliding out of the booth, he headed back to the counter, calling over his shoulder, "See you tomorrow."

  With an absent wave, Emily headed toward the door, mulling over Mr. Greenbalm's words. Would James Bodley actually be more trouble than help? She hadn't really considered him as the diva type, assuming he'd be more like his sweet-natured aunt. Not for the first time since beginning this adventure in directing, she wondered if she had bitten off more than she could chew. She was so lost in her own thoughts as she headed back to the school that she didn't hear someone calling her name until they were right behind her.

  "Emily, wait up!" came a voice from right behind her. With a start, Emily looked around, surprised to see she was only a block away from the school. She really hadn't been paying attention. Now she watched curiously as Annabeth Cardinal, the local theater member who'd been helping them out with casting and directing, scurried down the sidewalk toward her, her curly red hair trailing behind her. Emily smiled. Annabeth's enthusiasm and passion for life were contagious. Her worries about Bodley momentarily forgotten, Emily fell into step with the bundle of energy that was Annabeth.

  The brisk fall air had whipped color into Annabeth's cheeks, and her eyes sparkled as she smiled over at Emily. "Isn't it wonderful that James is willing to come and help with the school's production?"

  Emily noted her use of the actor's first name. "I take it you know him personally?" she asked.

  Annabeth let loose her bright, bubbly laugh. "Oh, of course. He, Violet, and I all went to school together. I know we were several years ahead of you in school, but don't you remember seeing any of the plays James was in? He was amazing!"

  Emily looked closer at Annabeth. She knew that Bodley and Violet Shaw, another local woman who'd befriended Destiny and volunteered to help with ticket sales and advertising, had gone to school at Ellington, and although she didn't really remember any of the plays Bodley had acted in, she had read plenty of articles touting the now-popular actor's hometown roots. What Emily hadn't realized was that Annabeth was the same age as those two. She would have pegged Annabeth as closer to her own age than to Violet's, who was ten years her senior.

  "I'm sorry," Emily admitted. "I assumed you were an Ellington transplant. I wasn't that outgoing in school and didn't know a lot of the upperclassmen. I thought you and I were about the same age."

  "Oh, well, aren't you sweet?" Annabeth laughed again, giving Emily a one-armed hug. "It's been a few years since I went to school here," she said as they headed up the high school's front steps, "but with James back in town, it'll be just like the good ole days."

  From the level of noise coming from the auditorium's direction, Emily wasn't at all sure that "good" would be the word she would use to describe James Bodley's visit by the time it was over. That feeling was reinforced as the first thing she encountered on entering the dim space was Lyndsey Murphy, the junior playing the part of Ms. Scarlet, arguing with Ms. Lowe about her costume. Jeweliah and Sapphira stood close by, adding their two cents to the conversation.

  "I'm just saying that it looks like an old lady's costume. Ms. Scarlet was young, daring. I need to have a lower V-cut here," Lyndsey was saying, pulling down the collar of her dress. Emily hurried forward to stop Lyndsey before she could show any more cleavage.

  Sapphira grabbed a pin from the cushion on Ms. Lowe's wrist and readjusted Lyndsey's collar to a more modest position. Emily let out a sigh of relief, but before she reached the group, she watched Sapphira turn the pin just enough to poke Lyndsey.

  "Ouch! Watch it!" Lyndsey yelled.

&nbs
p; Sapphira smirked and muttered an apology before turning away. Emily felt her mouth drop open. She would've sworn that Sapphira had just stuck Lyndsey on purpose. "What the heck was that all about?" she muttered.

  "I was just going to ask you the same thing," Gabby answered from behind her. She was relieved that someone else had witnessed Sapphira's odd behavior. "You don't think she's worried about competing for Mr. Bodley's attention, do you?" Gabby asked, looking worried.

  "Surely he's more professional than to pay attention to the young student's décolletage," Emily answered, sending up a silent prayer that she was right. "We haven't made a mistake by inviting him, have we?"

  Before Gabby could answer, the back auditorium doors were thrown open, and the man himself strode down the center aisle toward the stage. Emily had never met him, but she recognized James Bodley from all of his publicity photos. Destiny came hurrying out of the wings to talk to him, Albert hot on her heels. Emily and Gabby took their time heading over to the group. Emily didn't know about Gabby, but she was definitely wondering if she had made a terrible mistake. The man was definitely handsome, with a charming smile and a debonair look about him, but his theatrical entrance and booming voice set Emily's teeth on edge. A bit full of himself, wasn't he?

 

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