Murder Takes Center Stage

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Murder Takes Center Stage Page 11

by Tracy D. Comstock


  Emily's mouth twisted into a grimace. "I think you got the better end of the deal, but I do have some news. Mom was able to talk the Encore Playhouse into letting the kids hold the play there, and best of all, they're not charging us a dime due to what happened with Bodley."

  Gabby scooted up on the couch. "That's wonderful! I'm sure the kids are thrilled."

  Emily nodded her agreement. "We held our first rehearsal there today after church to keep us on schedule for presenting the play to the public next weekend."

  "Any mishaps at rehearsal today?" Gabby questioned, her deep brown eyes, which she had passed on to her daughters, reflecting her concern.

  "Nobody got hurt, but I was afraid Annabeth and Sapphira might come to blows."

  "I'm surprised Sapphira went ahead and is letting Jeweliah continue with the play."

  "Well, Violet had this great idea to say we're now putting on this play as a memorial to Bodley, so Sapphira got on board then," Emily told her.

  "So did Annabeth finally snap, telling Sapphira she should pay more attention to her own daughter's needs?"

  "Got it in one." Emily pointed at Gabby. "Sapphira thinks Annabeth is trying to steal her daughter away because she couldn't have Bodley. Mom, Dad, Helen, and Barnes were following them home after rehearsals, so I'm sure they have things under control. For the time being, anyway. And I wanted to check and make sure my best friend was still alive and kicking."

  "I'm definitely alive," Gabby assured her. "But I don't know about the kicking part. This cold has really gotten me down. Still, I want to help however I can if you're still determined to figure out what happened with Bodley. Any news on that front?"

  "I don't have anything new to report, per se, but I went by and checked with Gangly Arms, and of course, he wouldn't tell Tad or me anything. I did call Pearl Lowe, but she was too upset about dear James—" She made air quotes. "—to talk to me."

  "That seems a little strange," Gabby said.

  "That's what I thought too. Mom talked to her later, and she did agree to still help with costume alterations, but she wasn't able to handle being at rehearsals today. Dad suggested that maybe she was the cougar type and secretly in love with Bodley."

  "Ewww." Gabby wrinkled her nose. "Don't you think it more plausible that they had more of a mother-son relationship?"

  "That's what Tad said," Emily agreed. "But I still wonder if this show of grief isn't some kind of cover for her guilt."

  "You think she might have seen this as her chance to get back at Bodley for leaving her behind when he moved on to the big time?"

  "I think it's a possibility," she acquiesced. "And speaking of odd relationships, I went to double check that the props were locked up after rehearsal this afternoon, and you'll never guess who I saw together in the alley."

  "I have no idea, honestly."

  "It was Violet, who was sobbing her eyes out, and Mr. Greenbalm, who was holding and comforting her."

  "Well, Mr. Greenbalm has to be old enough to be her father. Maybe she was just upset about something, and he was being a good friend. I mean, they have been working closely together on the play's behalf."

  "And that's what Tad said about them too. But then you've got Annabeth, who may have been pining away for Bodley all these years and wants to see Sapphira paying more attention to her daughter."

  Gabby prompted, "And what about Jeweliah?"

  Emily leaned back in her chair and stared up at the wood beams crisscrossing the ceiling. "She seems so bitter about her mom only thinking about Bodley. Sapphira doesn't even seem to see how all of this is affecting Jeweliah. She doesn't appear to even be aware of what Jeweliah is going through. That poor girl always has to be the strong one."

  "It's definitely a backward mother-daughter relationship," Gabby pointed out.

  "My heart just breaks for her. Yet at the same time…" she trailed off.

  "At the same time, you have to wonder if she might be guilty," Gabby said softly.

  Emily gave a miserable nod and then said, "So anyway, I don't know if we're any closer to finding out the truth about who was after Bodley, but I think these are the people we definitely need to focus on."

  "Do you think Mr. Greenbalm could've had something to do with this? I don't know what connection he and Bodley would have, though."

  "After seeing him with Violet, I do wonder if they've been in cahoots to get rid of Bodley. Was this a violent act of revenge for supposedly ruining her life by taking that scholarship?" Emily got up and paced around the cheerful living room.

  She stopped next to the French doors leading out to the monstrous deck Gabby and Greg had put in last spring. In the now-heavy darkness, she could just make out the shape of the amazing tree house her own dad had helped Greg build for the girls at the same time. "I envy you this."

  Gabby sat straight up, dragging her covers with her. "What did you say?"

  "I said I envy you this." She continued to look out the doors, but Gabby's face was reflected in the glass, and she could see the frown marring her pretty features.

  "What do you mean? You have a wonderful life. You have a satisfying career, a loving family, great friends, and a man who loves you. You have a purpose and a goal in life. What more could you possibly want?"

  "This." Emily turned and swung her arm in an all-encompassing arc that included the cozy living room, the alcove full of toys, the wall full of family pictures. "I love him."

  This time when she spoke, Gabby managed to leap off the couch and hobble to her side. "I know you do. I didn't think you'd ever figure out the same thing for yourself. Have you told him yet?"

  Emily shook her head. "Not yet. I want to wait until this whole mess with Bodley's murder investigation and the play are behind us. Then I want to have a real conversation about how we feel and where we're going. I want it all, Gabby. The home, the husband, the kids. This life. But I'm worried I won't be good at it."

  Gabby scoffed, but Emily continued earnestly. "I'm serious. You're such a wonderful mom. You're a great wife. You have made a beautiful, welcoming home. I just don't know if I can do that."

  Gabby hauled Emily back toward the couch so that she could collapse again, then she looked her right in the eye and said seriously, "Em, I think you can do absolutely anything you put your mind to. I think Tad is one of the best things that ever happened to you. You have the same goals, the same drives, the same passions. You don't have to lose yourself in order to share your life with someone else."

  "I see that now. I don't know what I was so afraid of. I mean, you never lost yourself when you fell in love and married Greg. If anything, Greg just makes you an even better version of yourself. If that's possible." She grinned at her oldest and dearest friend. "And Tad does that for me. I can't wait to tell him!"

  "I'm so happy you two found each other. You've been in love with him forever. I just didn't think you'd ever let your head catch up to your heart. I think this calls for a celebration!"

  "And what are we celebrating?" Greg asked, coming into the living room with the girls close on his heels. They were giggling and holding something behind their backs.

  "I think I'm finally starting to feel like a human again and not a sneezing, coughing zombie," Gabby told him. But Emily caught the look that passed between them, the one that said I'll tell you everything later. She didn't mind Gabby sharing her secret with Greg. She knew she could trust him, this man who had become like her own brother, not to let the cat out of the bag until she had a chance to talk with Tad herself.

  "Mama," Phoebe said, crawling into Gabby's lap. "Look at what I made you."

  Abigail boosted up to join her, and they presented their adorable, scribbled cards. "Between these amazing cards, the hugs, and the kisses, I think I might feel well enough for pizza. What do you guys think?"

  The girls jumped up and down cheering. "Can we have a tea party too?" Phoebe asked.

  "And ice cream?" Abigail slipped in slyly.

  Greg laughed. "I think we can manage t
hat. Let's go order pizza, girls, and see what we can find to drink."

  "Not the cognac. Just in case," Emily called after them, and then she and Gabby dissolved into fits of giggles.

  Greg gave them such a confused look, Emily laughed even harder. "What are you talking about?" he asked her.

  Emily stopped laughing and stared at him incredulously. "You really don't know what I'm talking about?"

  Gabby patted her arm. "I know. It's a shock. I just found out last night that he's never seen the movie version of Clue."

  "How is it possible that we've been friends all this time and I had no idea you've never see one of our all-time favorite movies?" Emily asked him.

  "Apparently, I missed out on the cult classic," Greg said drily.

  "Then we must remedy this situation immediately. You have a copy, don't you?" she asked Gabby.

  She nodded. "Of course. Why don't you stay for supper, and then once we have the girls settled in bed, we can join Greg in his first viewing of the world's greatest movie?"

  So Emily stayed and enjoyed a delightful tea party with the twins and yummy, messy pizza. She was given the extreme privilege of helping with bath time, and then she did story time, prayer time, and tucking in all on her own. She was glad to give Gabby and Greg some alone time together, but she also knew that these girls were wrapped so closely around her heart they felt almost like her own. She adored them, and as she pressed good-night kisses to their sweet-smelling hair, she realized she truly couldn't wait for the opportunity to go through these same rituals with her and Tad's own child.

  Later, Greg laughed at all the right parts of Clue, and since Emily had seen the movie a gazillion times and could recite most of the lines by heart, she let her mind drift in a fantasy of her and Tad's potential future. She was daydreaming about nursery colors when the ending revelations of the movie caught her attention. All of them were guilty of something. This started her wondering, could different people have been responsible for the events leading up to Bodley's death? Were they wrong in assuming that only one person was behind the attacks on Bodley? Could a different person have been behind each of the mishaps during rehearsals? Was the only connection between the preceding events and Bodley's murder the fact that those responsible resented or hated Bodley? It was definitely something to consider.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The rain had pounded down steadily all night, but the morning was bright as Emily headed to school. Thick, gray clouds hovered on the edges of the horizon like smudges on a perfect painting. The scarlet, ochre, and emeralds were dazzling in the sunlight, and with her heart full of love, she felt a desire to rush in and confess her feelings to Tad. But as she pulled open the double doors, the wind tossed her hair across her face, and when she gained the entrance and pushed it back, the first thing she noticed was Jeweliah hovering by herself near the stairwell.

  Emily checked her favorite Strawberry Shortcake watch and saw that although she had gotten around earlier than was normal for her habitually late self, she wouldn't have time to talk to both Tad and Jeweliah, and the girl lingering by the stairs had dark circles under eyes that looked bleak and hollow, and her skin held a funereal pall. Striding directly to her, she asked, "You okay, Jeweliah?"

  The girl jumped and let out a stifled shriek, whirling to face her. She shoved at her stick-straight hair, and Emily could see that her nails were bitten to the quick. "I—I didn't see you there, Ms. Taylor."

  "Would you like to come to my classroom and visit for a minute?" Emily asked softly, already guiding her up the stairs.

  Jeweliah nodded, so she settled her at a desk in a patch of bright sunlight hoping to return some color to those pale cheeks and hurried into the lounge to grab them each a soda. She hoped the caffeine would perk the poor thing up some as she looked dead on her feet. She shut her door to keep out unwelcome visitors and settled in a desk pulled up to face the girl, who hadn't moved a muscle.

  "I know this must be a hard time for you. And for your mom. I'm really glad you're still in the play. You make an excellent Mrs. Peacock." She chattered brightly, popping the top on one of the soda cans and nudging it toward Jeweliah. The girl stared at it like she'd never seen such a thing before, but she finally took a small sip.

  "I feel conflicted," she finally said softly.

  "How so?"

  "I hate that Mom's so torn up over Bodley, but really, they hadn't been seeing each other that long, and she's acting as if she has lost the love of her life."

  Emily decided to keep her silence and let Jeweliah get whatever she was feeling off her chest. Taking another swig from the can, Jeweliah's face tightened into a grimace that was frightening in its intensity. "But while I feel bad for Mom, I have to say that I'm glad Bodley's dead."

  She declared this with such venomous force that, at first, Emily didn't know how to respond. Trying to keep her voice calm and her facial expressions neutral, she asked, "What do you mean by that exactly?"

  The girl stared out at the colorful leaves tossing in the breeze and a strange smile turned up her lips and lit her eyes. "I've been the one who's always taken care of Mom. She needs me, you know?" She didn't even look at Emily as she asked this, as if the answer to the question was obvious. "And then this actor, this Bodley," her lips curled into a snarl over his name, "swoops in, and it's like she forgets all about me. Now, with Bodley out of the way, things are back to the way they were before. The way things are supposed to be."

  Emily sipped her own soda thoughtfully. She was trying to cut back, but moments this stressful called for her own form of liquid courage. "But you want to go away to college, right? What will your mom do here by herself after you leave for school?"

  "Oh, I'm sure I can find someone who will be more suitable for Mom than a glory hog like Bodley. Annabeth told me what kind of person he really was, and I know all about what he did to Mrs. Shaw. He was not a nice man." Emily knew her face must have betrayed her shock at these words as Jeweliah quickly added, "But, of course, it's horrible what happened to him." Again, Emily only nodded.

  "I appreciate you letting me talk, Ms. Taylor. But really, I'm fine. I've just had a lot on my mind, worrying about watching over Mom, as well as with school and the play. But things will be better now. Mom will see."

  "You know, Jeweliah, you don't have to handle everything yourself. There are many people who are here for you—people who would be happy to help." And although she knew she might be treading on shaky ground, she felt compelled to add, "And your mom is a grown woman. She can handle more than you probably think."

  The eyes Jeweliah turned on Emily at these words looked hollow and bruised again, and she couldn't decide which was worse—the vacant, miserable stare or the strange, maniacal light that had lit them when she talked about Bodley's death. "Sure, sure," Jeweliah told her. "Mom's going to be fine. She'll handle this. Anyway, thanks for the soda, Ms. Taylor. See you in class." With a little wave, she left the quiet of the classroom to join the throng of noisy students milling in the hallway before the first bell of the day signaled a return to study.

  Emily remained seated at the desk, watching a squirrel bound gracefully from limb to limb outside, but her mind was elsewhere. Her heart ached with concern for the young girl who clearly carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. But even more than that weight, she worried over the relief, even the joy, that Jeweliah seemed to feel at the thought that Bodley was, how had she put it? Out of the picture. The choice of words had her hopping up from the desk to pace her classroom. It went against every fiber of her being to suspect a student of any wrongdoing without proof. But murder? Could this beautiful, intelligent, often fragile-seeming girl be capable of such a heinous act? She felt a rush of relief when the first bell rang and students came pouring into her room to distract her from her own terrifying thoughts.

  * * *

  Emily didn't get to see Tad until after school as she took the opportunity to grab Destiny and sequester themselves in Helen's office during her lunch
hour. She wanted to discuss her concerns about Jeweliah, but she didn't want to bring up the idea that she was afraid the girl might be suffering from a guilty conscience. Both she and Destiny expressed concern that the strain of caring for her mother in her grief, the play, and her schoolwork might all becoming too much for her. Helen agreed that she needed monitoring and said she'd find a way to pull her aside to talk with her. Destiny volunteered to keep a close eye on her and those around her during rehearsals. Even Destiny's usual enthusiasm for their production was starting to wane. Emily didn't know if it was the pain of her ankle or sheer exhaustion, but she'd bet dollars to donuts that they would all breathe a huge sigh of relief when this weekend was behind them.

  As the last student filtered out of her classroom after the final bell, Tad stuck his head around her doorframe. "Hey, thought maybe you'd dropped off the edge of the earth or something."

  "Sorry," Emily said, moving toward him. "I ran into Jeweliah first thing this morning, and I've been so worried about her I went to talk to Helen during lunch. Jeweliah seemed normal enough during class, but I'm afraid she's just putting on a good front around her peers."

  Tad gave her a quick hug and then nudged the door closed so they could visit in private. "Are you concerned that caring for her mom is too much for her? We could see about some counseling."

  "Yes and no," she told him. "I do think that Jeweliah is carrying way too much responsibility at such a young age. But Tad, it's more than that." She could feel tears welling in her eyes.

  Tad reached over and gripped her hands. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out together. Is this about Jeweliah?"

 

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