Murder Takes Center Stage

by Tracy D. Comstock

  As Destiny gathered up her lunch and headed out the door, she looked back at them all long enough to say, "It's just that if I was in Violet's shoes, I might not mind seeming him humiliated on his home stage." And with a toss of her glossy hair, Destiny left them all staring at each other, wondering just what, exactly, she was implying. Did she think Violet had switched the props to get back at Bodley?

  * * *

  Emily worried over Destiny's comment the rest of the afternoon, but by the time she headed to rehearsals, she had decided to put it out of her mind. Even if Violet had wanted to humiliate Bodley, at least it was done and over with. Hopefully, tonight's rehearsal would be smooth sailing. Then there was only one more dress rehearsal to go before the actual production. Frankly, the whole thing couldn't go fast enough for her.

  As a swirl of crisp, bright leaves tried to follow her into the building, she found Tad waiting right inside for her. "Hey, you," she said, giving him a hug. "I didn't know you were planning on being here tonight."

  Tad hugged her back, holding on a little longer than was normal. "After what happened last night, I feel unsettled. I'm going to be sticking close by your side until this whole thing is done and over with."

  Emily wanted to protest that his worry was for nothing, but the same persistent feeling of impending doom was hanging over her like a dark cloud. Instead, she leaned into his side and whispered a thank you, truly grateful to have him close by. She knew that a month or two ago, she would've been surprised by how much she enjoyed having him near. She decided that was another issue to dwell on later.

  Grabbing Tad's hand, she headed down the hall toward the auditorium, following her nose as the delicious scent of cinnamon drifted toward them. She was pleasantly surprised to find Mr. Greenbalm being helped in his setup by both Violet and Bodley, whose large, white bandage on his hand was the only sign that the previous night had not gone as planned. Bodley had a large smile on his face and was chatting about some play production he had been in in London. Both Violet and Mr. Greenbalm were chuckling at him as he used his hands and entire being to help tell his story. "Looks like things are going smoothly here," Tad said quietly in her ear. "Let's see if things are going as well inside."

  With a small wave and smile to the group by the dessert table and maybe a longing glance or two at the apple tartlet Bodley was waving around as he spoke, she slipped into the auditorium and into yet another tantrum. This time it was Sapphira pitching a fit about Jeweliah's Mrs. Peacock costume. "I don't care if she is playing the part of a middle-aged woman. I don't want my daughter looking all frumpy up on that stage."

  Before Emily could intervene, Bodley came up and said to Mrs. Lowe, "I'm sure you understand where Sapphira is coming from, don't you, Pearl? After all, it is your job to make all the actors look good on stage." The smile Bodley gave to Mrs. Lowe was so chilling it sent shivers down Emily's spine. What was that all about anyway?

  Emily was grateful to see her mom heading their way. "I'm sure we can reach a compromise that will make everyone happy," she began, but when she noticed the tears in Mrs. Lowe's eyes, she stumbled to a halt.

  Susan Taylor stepped forward and took Mrs. Lowe's arm gently in hers. "Of course, and we'll just go see what we can come up with, shall we?" she said, and while outwardly projecting a sense of calm competence, Emily knew that she was seething with irritation at Sapphira and Bodley as she firmly steered Mrs. Lowe towards the backstage area. Emily sent her mom a grateful look, looking around to see if her dad was there too.

  Ray was fussing with the dummy Annabeth had constructed to stand in for Mr. Boddy. "How's it going, Em?" he asked, stepping away from the door he was inspecting to give her a kiss on the forehead.

  "Oh, you know, just counting the days until this is over," Emily sighed.

  "You're doing a fine job. Eyes on the prize, my girl. The kids are counting on you." And with those bracing words, Emily took her dad's words to heart and got the rehearsals underway.

  She and Tad sat in the front row, critiquing the performance of each of the students. The parts of Colonel Mustard and Mrs. White were still the strongest, and Emily made a note to praise Gareth and Holley on their acting chops. But even Jeweliah was portraying an excellent Mrs. Peacock this evening. Destiny took the seat next to Emily. "No one came forward about the knife prank, so I think we need to say something at the end of rehearsal."

  Emily nodded her agreement. "But look at what a great job Jeweliah's doing tonight," she pointed out. "Destiny, I have to thank you again. If it hadn't been for you, I could never have pulled this off. You've done a great job with the kids."

  Destiny blushed at the praise but was quick to point out, "I think we can thank Annabeth for the acting we're seeing tonight. She's worked wonders with these kids." The three of them sat silently, watching Annabeth and Bodley working in tandem to give direction to the students on the stage. Emily couldn't help but notice the admiring glances Annabeth kept throwing Bodley's way.

  "If I didn't know better, I would say that Annabeth is a bit starstruck by Bodley," she told Destiny. "But that seems kind of odd since she's known him since high school."

  "True," Destiny said, watching her friend closely. "I sometimes wonder if…" But whatever she had been about to say was lost in a shout from the lobby outside the auditorium.

  Emily was on her feet and running before she even knew exactly what the shouting was about. She burst through the doors to find Mr. Greenbalm holding up a pale and sweaty Violet, who was clutching her stomach and moaning in pain. "What's going on?" she demanded, hurrying to their side.

  "I'm not sure," Mr. Greenbalm said shakily. "We were taking a count of the final number of pastries we think we'll need for opening night when Mrs. Shaw here said she felt dizzy. I was guiding her to a chair when she grabbed her stomach and almost fell."

  "It hurts," Violet moaned, and Emily grabbed a nearby trash can, nervous at the green tinge Violet's skin had taken on.

  Destiny and Annabeth had joined their group by this time, and Annabeth held up a glass of water to Violet who shook her head at it weakly. "I think she still has her appendix," Destiny was saying. "We should get her to the hospital. This doesn't look like a simple case of a stomach bug."

  "I agree," Annabeth nodded. "I'll drive." Tad hurried forward to scoop Violet up when she stumbled trying to rise from the chair. Annabeth and Destiny hurried ahead of him to open doors, Destiny carrying the trash can she had taken from Emily.

  "Call us as soon as you know anything," Emily yelled after them. She waited to make sure Violet was safely in the car before turning back to the auditorium to see if Bodley needed help with the rehearsal. But when she approached the stage, the students were milling about, chattering, not rehearsing at all. Bodley was nowhere in sight.

  "What's going on?" she called up to Holley. "Where's Mr. Bodley?"

  Holley pointed toward the side door of the auditorium. "He ran out of here, saying he'd be right back. We weren't sure if we should continue without him or not since Ms. Cardinal also left suddenly."

  "Ms. Shaw is not feeling well," Emily explained. "Ms. Cardinal and Ms. Willis are taking her to the doctor. Why don't we take this scene from the top?"

  Holley nodded and turned to guide everyone back to their starting places. Gareth had just said his first line when Bodley himself staggered onto the stage looking as awful as Violet just had.

  "Are you okay?" Emily asked him, taking the stage steps two at a time.

  "I think I might be getting ill," Bodley slurred. And then he collapsed at her feet.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Emily felt like she was in a bad replaying of Groundhog Day as, once again, Sapphira came screeching onto the stage, demanding what was wrong with her dear Jamie. Her caterwauling brought everyone out onto the stage, and Ray and Tad helped a miserable Bodley out to Sapphira's car where she headed once again to the emergency room. Dazedly, Emily once again reassured her students and the play's production crew that everything would be fine.
Obviously, a flu bug was going around that hit Violet and Bodley particularly hard. She admonished all of her students to get plenty of rest and take some extra vitamin C to stay well for the actual production and then sent them home for the evening.

  After shutting down the lights and checking that all of the props were secured, Emily and Tad met with Ray and Susan at the base of the stage. "Dad, you do think it was just the flu, right?" Emily asked tentatively.

  "What else could it be?" Ray asked, looking around the darkened auditorium.

  Susan, Tad, and Emily exchanged an uncomfortable look, each of them afraid to voice the thought that seemed to be uppermost in all of their minds. Tad finally leaned closer and said softly, "What if it was food poisoning? Violet and Bodley were both helping Mr. Greenbalm with his refreshments this evening."

  "But I ate a sampling of everything," Ray said with a frown, "and I feel fine."

  "I tried one of those apple tartlets also," Susan admitted. Everyone turned to look at her, as if waiting for her to fall over ill, and Emily let out a snorting giggle as she recalled much the same scene in Clue when everyone thought Mrs. Peacock might have been poisoned by the cognac.

  "I feel just fine." Susan was adamant. "I think the biggest problem we have right now is that Mr. Bodley will probably no longer be helping us with rehearsals, and our final dress rehearsal is only two days away."

  "You know," Emily said thoughtfully, "I'm not sure that having Bodley no longer involved is such a bad thing. He seems to have brought nothing but bad luck."

  "It'll all work out fine," Ray said in his typical reassuring manner. "Let's all get some rest." He herded Susan toward the auditorium doors but looked back to add, "Please let us know what you hear about Violet and Bodley, Em."

  Emily nodded and, taking Tad's hand, headed out the doors herself. She saw that Mr. Greenbalm was finishing up loading the last of his supplies into his van. Surprisingly, Jeweliah was helping him cart boxes of supplies. "Jeweliah, what're you still doing here?" Emily asked. "I thought you left with some of your friends."

  "They were headed for pizza, and I wasn't really in the mood. But after they left, I realized that without Mom here…" she trailed off with a frown.

  "I'd be happy to give you a ride," Emily offered.

  "Thanks, Ms. Taylor. I really appreciate it."

  Emily tossed her the keys and motioned to her Nissan. "You go ahead. I'll be right there."

  Jeweliah snagged the keys, said good night to Mr. Greenbalm, and then called back, "Good night, Mr. Higginbotham" before hurrying across the lot.

  Mr. Greenbalm was getting into his van. "Thank you for bringing the refreshments tonight," Emily told him. "I hope we haven't scared you off."

  The older gentleman blushed. "Of course not. It's my pleasure to help you all out any way I can. But I sure hope I don't come down with that awful bug the other two caught. I'll sure be saying my prayers for them." With a final wave, he started his van and pulled out of the lot.

  "I guess he's not worried about food poisoning either then," Emily said.

  "Let's not borrow trouble, Pit. You take Jeweliah on home and then come by my place. I'll whip us up some dinner."

  With a quick hug and a grateful smile, Emily jogged over to join Jeweliah in her now-warm car. The junior girl was texting on her phone, but she shoved it in her purse as Emily opened the door. "Just letting my mom know I got a ride home. Not that she'd bother to worry about me with Bodley to take care of."

  Her voice was decidedly bitter, and Emily knew she had to be very careful about what she said. "I know your mom loves you very much," she said softly.

  "Oh sure," Jeweliah said with a careless wave. "But she loves herself more. What she wants always comes first. And right now, what she wants is James Bodley."

  "What do you think of Bodley?" Emily asked.

  Jeweliah frowned out at the night for a while as the silence grew between them. Emily was starting to feel sorry she had asked when Jeweliah finally said, "He's okay, I guess. He seems to bring bad luck with him wherever he goes, though."

  "Do you think he's helped with rehearsals, despite his um…bad luck?"

  "I guess he's helped the others. But really, Ms. Cardinal is the one who's been the most help to me. She offered to work with me last night, and we spent quite a bit of time going over lines. I think she's just brilliant." The girl beamed, and Emily suddenly understood why Jeweliah's performance had seemed so much better tonight. She would have to make sure and thank Annabeth for putting in extra time with Jeweliah. The girl could definitely use some extra attention with her mother busy elsewhere.

  "Ms. Cardinal has been a big help to our whole production," Emily agreed.

  "She's awesome!" Jeweliah enthused. But then, in a more somber tone, she added, "But I wish Mom would be a little nicer to her."

  Emily frankly thought that Sapphira Jones needed to be nicer to everyone around her, including her own daughter, but she didn't think saying that out loud would help matters much. "Did Ms. Cardinal and your mom know each other before play practice started?" she asked instead.

  "Not that I was aware of, but somehow…" she trailed off and then gave Emily a strained smile as they pulled up in front of her house. "Anyway, I appreciate the ride."

  Emily patted the girl on the shoulder and gave her a warm smile, letting the matter drop. She hated leaving her at a dark house and waited until Jeweliah was safely inside with a light on. The girl waved and shut the door behind her. Emily got the impression that Jeweliah was used to spending evenings alone. Her blood boiled just thinking of all the ways she had seen Sapphira both manipulate and ignore her daughter, but she had to remind herself that she'd not walked a mile in Sapphira's shoes. She had no idea how difficult it had been for the woman to raise her daughter alone. She briefly wondered what had happened to Jeweliah's father and how long he had been out of the picture. She'd have to ask Helen tomorrow. She was hopeful any information that Helen could provide would help her know how best to handle this situation. She wanted to be a support for Jeweliah. She was a very bright student, and with Annabeth's tutelage, she was turning into a solid actress.

  As she pulled up in front of Tad's apartment, she put thoughts of Jeweliah, Sapphira, and the play on the back burner. The most important thing was that Violet and Bodley were okay and that everyone else stayed well. Plus, she was starving and had missed having some quality alone time with Tad since the play had gone into production. Pasting on a giant smile, she fluffed her hair, wished she'd thought to at least put on some lip gloss, and knocked on the door.

  Tad whisked the door open, greeting her with a tall, icy glass of—what else?—her favorite…Dr. Pepper. With a satisfied smile, she slipped out of her coat and shoes and wandered over to the kitchen's bar to sit and watch Tad put the finishing touches on a platter of pasta that smelled divine. "Thank goodness one of us can cook," she told him.

  He gave her a slow smile that warmed her more than the gas fireplace crackling away in the adjoining living room. "We all have our talents," he laughed. Focusing on pulling down plates out of the cabinet, he added, "When we're married, I can cook but clean up can be your job."

  Emily choked on her drink. Marriage? Did Tad really just use the M word? She knew in her heart of hearts that she never wanted to be with anyone but Tad, but this was a huge jump. When had he started thinking about marriage? Was she ready for that kind of commitment—the house, the kids, the whole "till death do you part" thing? Did Tad even want kids? They'd never really talked about it, and that wasn't the kind of thing one could just assume. Shouldn't they have talked about those kinds of thing before the M word was dropped? She suddenly felt dizzy and realized her breath was coming in pants. Her gaze swinging wildly, she briefly wondered if she had misunderstood. But Tad was now standing still, staring directly at her with his deep, dark eyes.

  "Breathe, Pit. It was just a joke." Tad moved around her to set the plates on the table. He smiled back at her, but the smile seemed strained.<
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  She gave a breathless laugh and sat down at the table, unsure of how to move past this awkward moment. Was she mistaken, or was that hurt she saw in his eyes? Trying to lighten the mood, she joked, "And when I win the lottery, I'll hire us a cook and a maid!" She'd hoped that Tad would laugh, but his faint smile definitely didn't erase the hurt she was now sure she saw in his eyes.

  Focusing on twirling pasta onto his fork, he said softly, "You know how I feel about you, right?"

  Emily snagged her glass and took a large gulp, trying to decide how to answer. Finally, she said, "Yes, I know you care about me. I care greatly about you, too."

  "Care? Yes, I know you care. But what I want to know is where this is going. We're not in high school anymore, and this isn't just a crush." Now his eyes met hers directly, and she felt herself start to sweat.

  "Well, technically," she said with a forced laugh, "we're still in high school. Who would have thought it would all end where it began?" She had meant it as a joke, that here they were, right back where she had first fallen for him as a freshman in high school, but Tad frowned.

  "Is this where it ends?" he asked after a moment.

  "Ends? As in, breaking up? No. NO! That's not what I meant at all. I just meant…" she trailed off lamely. She didn't know where to go from here without making things worse than they already were.

  "Give it some thought, okay?" he asked her and then went back to eating. She nodded but wasn't even sure he saw her. As soon as she could finish her meal with her now much-diminished appetite, she made up an excuse to head home. At the door, Tad held her as tightly as always. His kiss was gentle and sweet, but it also felt like a type of forever good-bye. When he'd closed the door with a wave once she was safely in her car, she laid her head down on the steering wheel and cried. What was wrong with her anyway? Tad was all she had ever wanted. She loved him. She did. So why couldn't she just say so and commit?