“You can start tonight. Carlos and Bella are hosting the cast at their place after the show. Maybe you could pull him aside.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to run.” She blew me a kiss and flew out the door.
Now what?
* * * *
The audience of Dracula milled about the lobby, the second intermission underway. It was a nice crowd for an opening. I eased through clumps of theatergoers chatting and nibbling on concession snacks, eavesdropping on conversations.
“That flying bat is something else.” Impressed!
“The green light is creepy.” Yes!
“I love the way Dracula appears and disappears magically into the bookcase.” Yay!
“He’s really scary. Do you think it’s true what they say about him?” Sheesh.
The rumors about Carlos were going to zing around Etonville until Dracula closed. I mulled over potential conversation starters with him, as per Lola’s plea. How old are you? Have you ever lived in Transylvania? What kind of a coffin do you prefer to sleep in? I had to laugh despite the seriousness of his possible predicament. And mine. At what point would I need to share Lola’s revelation with Bill?
“Hello, Dodie.”
A familiar voice brought me out of my Carlos musing. It was Bella, looking very different than last night. The jewelry, bandanna, and multicolored gown were replaced by a tailored maroon skirt and a white turtleneck sweater. Her flowing brown hair was gathered at the nape of her neck in a smart chignon. If I hadn’t seen her reading palms at the Halloween party, I would immediately assume she was a corporate type on an evening out. Come to think of it, I had no idea if she was a corporate type, or where she was employed. As with Carlos, none of us knew much about Bella. “Hello.”
“Are you enjoying the play?” she asked, her tone as feathery as it was last night, her eyes as penetrating.
“I just arrived. I’ve seen a few rehearsals, so I’m third-acting it tonight. I’ll be back before it closes to see the full production.”
She cocked her head. “I sense that I’ve met you before.”
I laughed awkwardly. What was it about the Villariases that unnerved me? “You mean other than last night when you read my palm?” And warned me about surrendering my personality.
She frowned. “Yes. Other than last night. You have a memorable persona.”
I do? “You certainly provided memorable entertainment at the party. People loved the palm readings. Even gave a few customers some unforgettable advice.” I was thinking about Walter. And me.
“I’m pleased Etonville had a good time. It’s a charming little town.”
I was on the brink of inquiring whether her future plans involved long-term residence in our “charming little town” when Lola appeared. She slipped an arm through mine, a frozen grin on her face.
“Hello, Bella,” she said.
“Lola.”
“So lovely of you to host the cast tonight. Is there anything we can bring?” Lola asked brightly. Too brightly.
“It’s our pleasure and, no, I think we’re all set,” she said graciously. “I’m happy you’ll be joining us, Dodie.”
How did she know that? Had Lola mentioned anything? The lights in the lobby flicked on and off, signaling the impending start of Act Three. Bella headed back into the house.
“What’s up? I recognize that fake smile.” I had a similar one that I whipped out whenever I was in over my head. Usually about once a week. “How’s it going out there?”
Lola tightened her grip on my arm. “The French doors in Act Two were stuck and Dracula had to practically bash his way in. Then Lucy’s gown ripped. She almost had an R-rated scene with Carlos. The flying bat ran into a light batten and several instruments wobbled. I’m holding my breath until the curtain call. Wish I could run next door to the Windjammer…” she added wistfully.
“Pull yourself together. I’m sure things aren’t as bleak as you make them sound. I overheard people raving about the show.” I gave her a thumbs-up.
She straightened and squeezed my hand. I trailed her into the theater, where the lights were already dimming. Lola moved swiftly to her seat down front, while I sat in a chair in the last row next to the ELT photographer. “Hey,” I whispered to Pauli.
“Hey,” he whispered back.
I settled in as the house lights went dark. In the blackout, dogs howled as they had earlier in the play. Truly a chilling effect. When the lights rose, the play was back in the same setting as Act One—the library of Dr. Seward’s sanatorium. Walter and Vernon pleaded with the Attendant—Abby—to find the bug-eating Renfield so they might use him as bait to catch his master, Dracula.
A trick chair swung upstage, then downstage, while curtains fluttered as though some invisible force had entered, stayed for a bit, then exited. Supposedly the vampire. Van Helsing, Dr. Seward, and Harker plotted to kill Lucy, if necessary, to save her soul. When Janice entered, looking healthier and more vital than in the previous act, due to an unnatural transfusion, she fluctuated wildly in a Jekyll-and-Hyde routine depending on when Dracula’s influence overcame her. I was transfixed, as was Pauli. He angled his body forward in his seat as if drawn like a magnet to the stage. Janice’s Lucy was riveting as she bent her lover’s neck, dogs wailing, her mouth heading toward his throat. Walter and Vernon enter in the nick of time to save Romeo’s life.
I exhaled. The tension level ratcheted up another few notches when the devil himself appeared in evening clothes, mocking Van Helsing, Seward, and Harker, threatening to take Lucy with him to the other side and make her his bride for centuries to come. Talk about a marriage not made in heaven! When the three heroes attempted to keep Dracula in the room until daybreak—at one point they were down to ten seconds—to destroy him with the metal stake, the Etonville Little Theatre performed its best feat of magic. In a flash of smoke, the vampire vanished through a trapdoor in the floor, leaving his cape behind. The onstage characters were stunned. So was the audience.
In a brief blackout, the house erupted in a vibrant hubbub, releasing the tension of the previous scene.
I turned to Pauli. “Wow.”
His eyes were shining with excitement and pride. “Totally. Isn’t Janice…” Words failed him.
“She sure is.” I patted his shoulder.
The final scene was played behind a scrim, the actors in dim light and shadow. A bright flashlight guided them downstairs and into an underground chamber where the coffin containing Dracula was located. As Van Helsing and Seward hover by the casket, placing the stake over Dracula’s heart, Harker swings a hammer and strikes the metal with an awful force. An offstage groan indicated the spike had hit the sweet spot. All executed smoothly, consistent with Penny’s explanation of the Dracula dummy and the spike being fitted into a sandbox. Possibly a new spike?
When the lights burst on, the stunned crowd sat in silence for a moment, then erupted in cheering, clapping, and shouts of “Bravo!” By the time Carlos took his bow, spectators were on their feet. The ELT had a bona fide triumph.
Folks drifted out of the house, caught up in the energy and exhilaration of the last scene, the noise level rising steadily. Lola was stuck in the aisle between two enthusiastic fans. I caught her eye and gave her the okay sign. She smiled sheepishly.
After announcing that he’d see me at the cast gathering—he’d wheedled an invitation as the ELT photographer—Pauli squirmed his way through the mob to reach Janice backstage. I was happy for the two of them. For everyone.
As I watched the happy horde exit the theater, something in the first scene of Act Three pricked at my imagination. Something someone said… I reran the scene in my mind. Dracula explained to his three nemeses that the stake-in-the-heart routine only worked if the victim died by day and not by night. Hmmm… The man in the cemetery definitely died by night. If I believed in vampires, which I certainly didn’t, I’d hav
e to acknowledge that the victim might have become one of the undead…I gulped.
6
“It sure looks haunted,” Edna murmured to no one in particular, to the cast of Dracula in general. They were grouped around her on the sidewalk that ran past the old Hanratty place that Carlos and Bella had rented. I’d never been inside, though I’d driven by it once when I first moved to Etonville on my way out of town. The house stood on half an acre of scruffy lawn with patches of dried dirt, surrounded by a few straggly trees—minus leaves at this time of the year—and no neighbors. The nearest houses were on a side street some distance away. The three-story building looked as if it might collapse at any moment, its outer walls covered with weathered, gray shakes, the steps to the front door supported by concrete building blocks. There was no handrail. Light leaked out of windows on the first floor. Curtains covering small, circular panes on the third story—an attic room?—quivered. Was someone up there watching us? I shivered. A turret rose upward from the right side of the structure, giving the house a smidge of outdated dignity. A drainpipe dangled loosely from the gutter.
“Let’s go.” Penny corralled actors and nudged everyone forward to the front door. There were six cast members, Renfield saying he’d be along later, plus Penny, Lola, Pauli, and me. Strength in numbers.
We crept across the porch cautiously, aware of the creaking beneath us as the flooring shifted with each individual’s footsteps. Penny put out a hand to knock on the door. Before she could hit her knuckles to the wood, it flew open. “Welcome, everyone!” Bella stood in the doorway, a silhouette backlit by muted foyer lighting.
Behind her, Carlos stood silently, observing the group huddled in his entryway, like deer caught in headlights.
Lola took the lead, moving graciously into the house. “Thank you. So nice of you to invite us to your home.”
I’m not sure what the members of the Etonville Little Theatre were expecting. Given the exterior and location of the Hanratty homestead, I anticipated something out of a late-night, classic horror film. Amityville? Instead, the interior was warm and inviting. Literally. Off the foyer, which boasted worn wood floors, lightly faded Oriental rugs, and a small antique table and chairs, was a roaring fire in a parlor. Carlos escorted his guests into the room, suggested they get warm or help themselves to food and drink across the hall in the dining room, where a large mahogany table was covered with platters of refreshments.
The cast, relieved to find themselves in a relatively normal social setting, babbled all at once. Pauli helped Janice with her sweater, Lola and Walter spoke with Bella, Vernon, and Abby; Penny made a beeline for the eats; and Edna turned to me. “Kind of a shock.” She studied the room. “I pictured something out of…”
“The Shining?”
“Copy that.” Edna grinned, adjusted her bun, and followed the others to the dining room.
“I’m glad to see you joined us for this little outing.” Carlos looked down at me from his six-foot-plus height. I hadn’t registered exactly how tall he was before.
“I’m more or less an honorary member of the ELT. I tend to tag along to parties.”
“Hmm.”
Across the hallway, behind Carlos, I could see Walter and Vernon competing for Lola’s attention, one on her right, the other on her left. Trapped between them, she had no choice but to gaze beyond them in my direction. Noticing that I was left in the parlor alone with Carlos, her eyes widened, giving the impression she was crying, go for it! No time like the present to plunge in. “Too bad you missed the awards presentation last night. I guess you heard you won the grand prize.”
He laughed haughtily. “I did hear that.”
“And your costume? Fantastic. Did you ever play the Phantom? You must have a theater background.”
“No, I never appeared in Phantom of the Opera. I do gravitate toward black capes, though.”
Oh? “Speaking of black capes, I saw someone in a Grim Reaper outfit at the party. Did you see him?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Was he lying? “And then the same costume was on the murder victim. Guess you heard all about that.”
“Very unfortunate. Etonville seems like such a safe little town.”
If he only knew… “I can understand leaving early. It must have been exhausting. Working all day, dress rehearsal, getting into another costume, talking to strangers from Etonville.” I’d left the door open for Carlos to respond to several gambits: his job, exiting the celebration before it ended, meeting someone in the parking lot—
“I don’t tire easily. I’m more energized at night.”
Did he realize what he was saying?
“I barely sleep. Only a few hours at a time.”
Uh-oh…if the ELT overheard this, serious doo-doo would be hitting the fan.
Change direction. “That’s such an interesting accent you have. Not at all Jersey.” I chuckled.
He studied me. “No, not at all Jersey.”
“Because a New Jersey accent is pretty hard to shake. I’ve tried to a few times.”
“Oh? Why?” His gaze narrowed, sucking the energy out of my “memorable persona.”
Whoa. I was in trouble now. “Well…let’s see…one time…”
“Carlos?”
Saved by the Bella.
“You’re monopolizing Dodie.” She frowned slightly.
He bowed. “Excuse me.” And walked to another part of the house.
I watched him leave. “Your husband is such a gentleman. I’m sure you must hear that a lot.”
Bella accepted my assessment quietly. “We’re on our best behavior in front of guests.”
“Your home is so warm and comfy. The furniture…vintage.”
“You mean old.” Her gray eyes twinkled. “The house was furnished when we rented it. I think the real estate agent took care of that. Certainly not the owner.”
“Right.”
“Can I get you a plate of food?” she asked.
“I’ll head over. I want to thank you again for reading palms. Have you been doing it for a long time? It takes such skill.” Maybe Bella would divulge some personal information if her husband wouldn’t.
Bella’s laugh was wispy. Ethereal, almost otherworldly. “Not as much as you would think. Certainly not as much skill as tarot.”
Aha! “You read tarot cards too?”
“Sometimes.” She considered me. “If you’d like to have a reading…” She let the invitation dangle.
Not on your life. “Sure. Sometime. Sounds like fun.”
“It can be fun. Also surprising.”
Now what did that mean? “Guess I’ll pay a visit to your delicious buffet.”
* * * *
I scrolled through my texts for the tenth time that evening. No word from Bill. How was his investigation going? He would be exhausted when he finally surrendered for the night. I poured myself another ginger ale from a bottle on a sideboard where the Villariases had set up a minibar. Soda, wine, whiskey, an ice bucket. I was getting antsy and frustrated. I had no more information about the backstories of this couple than I had when I entered the Hanratty place.
“Hey, O’Dell.”
“Hi, Penny. Nice spread.” I scanned the dining room table with the remains of platters of sandwiches and crudités, bowls of fruit and salad, and a double chocolate layer cake.
“Yep. ’Course, I can only eat certain things.”
“The Mediterranean diet. Right. How’s that going?”
Penny snatched a chunk of cake. “Chocolate’s good for you.”
“So the opening went well. Only a few minor glitches, according to Lola.” I dipped a piece of celery in ranch dressing. “I guess you had to find another stake to substitute.”
“Nope.” Penny removed carrots and cucumbers from the veggie tray and stacked them on her plate, pouring the remain
der of the dip over them.
I stopped chewing. “Why not?”
“Gabriel found the original one backstage. Stuck under cables and instruments.”
Renfield? My pulse picked up. The murder weapon wasn’t the stake used in Dracula?
“Nope. Not the one used in Dracula.”
Penny was in my head again.
“Isn’t that odd? How would the stake get stuck under equipment?” Wouldn’t somebody have to put it there? Had Bill heard this yet? I should text him. I hurried to the foyer and dug my cell out of my bag, which was sitting on a chair. “Was Gabriel searching for the stake? When did he find it?”
Penny pursued me. “O’Dell, you thinking of playing detective again?”
“Who me? No!” How many times would I have to say this?
“’Cause I think there’s some sabotage going on.” Penny pushed her glasses up her nose.
That again.
I texted Bill: have information on the stake from Dracula…home soon? I wasn’t certain about his schedule, but I intended to exit the Villariases’ as soon as I found the ladies’ room.
Penny pointed upward. “Top of the stairs.”
Geez. “You’re getting better at reading my mind,” I said patiently.
“Easy came, easy went. Practice makes perfect,” she said seriously.
“Here’s a suggestion. Why don’t you let Bella teach you how to read palms? Put those skills to better use than mucking around in my brain.” I tramped up the staircase.
Penny chuckled. “Nah. Too much fun keeping you on your toes, O’Dell. Anyway, I’m already pretty psycho.”
I blinked and turned back. “You mean psychic?”
“Whatever.” She stuffed a piece of cake into her mouth. Definitely not on her diet.
Penny was correct. At the top of the stairs was a dimly lit hallway, the wallpaper a patterned leafy green, glass sconces sparkling. The first door on my left was the bathroom. I entered, used the facilities, and washed my hands, my mind running off in different directions: the murder weapon, the investigation, Bill…I stared at my likeness in the mirror. My face, flushed from the fireplace heat, contrasted nicely with my green eyes. Another gift from my Irish ancestors.
Killing Time Page 7
