“What are we looking for?” whispered Lola anxiously.
“A flash drive.” My eyebrows lifted in a wordless signal: life or death!
We went to work. Running our hands around windows and doorframes, turning furniture upside down, even scouring obvious areas like the desk drawers, under lamps, around the bookcase. No luck.
After half an hour, we gathered downstage. My back ached. “That’s it for the set,” said Lola. “Maybe Carlos meant somewhere backstage? He moved back and forth from the doors and windows to the trick bookcase. And down the trap door.”
Lola made a good point. “Okay, let’s move offstage. I’ll—”
The stage lights snapped off, leaving us in the dark. “Hey!” I shouted, and clasped Bella’s arm.
“Don’t move,” Lola warned. “You might trip and fall. I’ll see what’s going on with the light board.”
Dim light escaping through the green room door, which Lola had propped open, sent shadows skittering around the set pieces. Who had left us in the dark?
“Stage is off limits!” shouted a grouchy voice.
Penny.
“Turn the lights back on,” Lola yelled in exasperation.
“Walter doesn’t want civilians on set while the theater is dark.”
Sheesh. It was dark all right.
“Penny, if you want to keep your position as stage manager, these lights will be on in two seconds,” Lola said loudly and evenly. The stage lit up. “Thank you. Now you can leave.” Lola was taking no prisoners.
Penny strode through the house and up the step unit leading to the stage. “I have to keep my eyes and ears on the ground. I’m the—”
“Production manager!” Lola and I yelled. We’d heard it often enough.
Penny crossed her arms and faced us. “What are you doing here?” She finally registered the fact that Bella was among us. “Thought you had a family emergency,” she crowed. Penny loved to catch folks in the act of deception.
“We did. We do…” Bella gaped at Lola and me, begging for help.
Lola flipped her blond hair and assumed her diva face. “We are assisting Bella in a search.”
“For what?” Penny pursued. “O’Dell, if you’re involved, it’s gotta be a disaster.”
Sometimes Penny hit the nail on the proverbial head. “Carlos is with a sick relative and he sent Bella here to find a memory stick he lost because it has his calendar on it, and you know how disorganized life is without your calendar.”
Penny threw up her hands. “Why didn’t ya say so? Where’d he think he left it?”
Appealing to Penny’s sense of organization had done the trick. We trooped backstage and proceeded to examine all spaces and anything that offered a hiding place—which was everywhere. The wings, the flies, around the coils of cable where, only last week, Gabriel had found the errant stake. No success.
“What about the trapdoor? Maybe it fell out of a pocket while he was descending?” I said.
Penny hopped to the trap, activated the device that lowered the platform, and rotated a flashlight through the opening. “Nothing down here,” she muttered.
“It’s small. Could it have fallen on the ground?” I asked, sensing Bella’s growing anguish.
“I’d have seen it when I swept up.”
“Swept up? Penny, you sweep the stage every night?”
“At least once. Sometimes more than once. Actors can be messy. Walter likes a clean stage floor.”
“Maybe you swept up the flash drive.”
Penny was off to sift through the trash barrel on the loading dock.
Lola sighed, and Bella dropped onto the sofa in despair. “I don’t think we’re going to find it. Time’s running out.”
It was seven thirty. We were stumped. “Don’t give up, Bella. We’ll think of something.”
“Yes, of course,” Lola chimed in, then looked at me as if to say what are you talking about?
“I’m afraid of what they’ll do to Carlos...”
“Don’t ask me how I know… the authorities in Chicago have sent help. Someone is keeping an eye on Carlos.” I fervently hoped Bill’s intel was correct and Mr. Chicago was on the scene.
Both Lola and Bella gazed at me, stupefied. “Are you sure?” asked Bella. “He never mentioned that to me.”
“Yes, Dodie, are you sure?” echoed Lola.
“Positive.” My fingers were crossed.
“In that case, maybe I should go to the police,” Bella said carefully. “And tell them what I know.”
“You have no idea where he is?”
Bella shook her head. “I was blindfolded going there and coming back here.”
I debated. If we called Suki, it would take time to question Bella and call in state police reinforcements. They’d miss the eight o’clock deadline. And we still had no idea where the bad guys had stashed Carlos. Bill wasn’t here. I needed to be proactive. We didn’t have the flash drive, but maybe there was a chance we could locate Carlos and then loop Suki in.
Penny bounded back onto the stage. “Nada. Nothing in the trash barrel.” She pushed her glasses up her nose, regarding us expectantly.
I hesitated. “Bella, I’m not sure how you’ll feel about this…” I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. But we were out of options.
Bella looked up.
“There was a program on NPR about…psychometry.”
“What’s psychometry?” asked Lola.
“Yeah, what’s psych…whatever?” asked Penny.
I wasn’t sure bringing Penny into the conversation was the best idea, but she was here and we had to move forward.
“It’s similar to a psychic reading.” Bella spoke slowly. “Instead of reading a person, you read an object.”
“That’s interesting,” said Lola politely. “But what about Carlos?”
“He’s gonna have to scramble if he doesn’t find his calendar. He’s probably lost the performance schedule, and—”
“Not now, Penny,” Lola cautioned her.
“Whatever.” She stood hands on hips, waiting for orders.
“Maybe you could try to do a reading with an object close to Carlos. Pick up the psychic energy it gives off. Get impressions. Like where he is.” Did I actually believe Bella could do this? I hurried on. “If we know that, we could go to the police and get immediate results. Otherwise, it’s like searching for a needle in a haystack. Even for cops.”
Penny scrunched up her forehead. “O’Dell, I know his calendar is important. Going to the police? Isn’t that a little over-the-top?”
“I think it’s a good idea,” Lola said, ignoring Penny. “What have you got to lose?”
Bella nodded. “I’ll try.”
Lola squeezed her hand. “You did a fantastic job reading palms and tarot cards.”
“Do you have something of Carlos’s on you?” I asked.
She dove into her purse, shoved her hands in pockets. Her face fell. “I don’t.”
“What about something he used here? In the theater?” I asked, acutely aware it was nearly eight o’clock.
Everyone looked around, as if something might pop out at us. Then Penny snapped her fingers. “His script. He left it in the dressing—”
We blew past Penny, Lola leading the way. She unlocked the door and switched on the light bulbs that encircled each mirror. The yellowish glow was warm, the mirrors reflecting our troubled faces. Only Penny’s was neutral as she hung out in the doorway, skeptical even though she had no clue what we were up to.
Bella sat down and picked up the Dracula script, fanning the pages. Then she replaced it on the makeup counter, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply several times. She seemed to be centering herself as she rubbed her hands together for a minute, then moved her left hand in a circle over the script.
Penny bar
ked a short laugh, interrupted by a stern look from Lola, who motioned to her to zip it—the shoe was on the other foot this time. Penny had no effect on Bella, who continued inhaling and exhaling, waving her hand in a circular motion. She stopped moving suddenly and carefully touched the play, running her left hand over the cover, then turning several pages and touching those.
“Carlos,” she murmured gently, as if she was speaking directly to him.
The room was hushed, Lola and I hoping against hope that some impression would arise from the Dracula script. After all, Carlos had had an intimate relationship with the play for a number of years.
“I’m getting…”
We bent forward.
“I’m sensing that he’s…” She broke off the thought.
We waited.
“I’m hearing loud, scraping sounds. Machinery.”
That could be almost anywhere. “Any images of him?” I asked tentatively.
Bella slowly cocked her head to one side. “Cars.”
“He’s in traffic? Are they moving him somewhere?” My pulse quickened. Something had to give in a hurry if we were going to find him unharmed.
“Numbers.”
“Like a license plate on a car?” I asked, excited. Now we were getting somewhere.
“No,” she said firmly. “In a book.”
She adjusted her head from side to side, then grew quiet. “Speed.”
Scraping, machinery, cars, numbers in a book, speed. What did it add up to?
Bella’s eyes flew open. “I had strong impressions. I simply don’t know what they mean,” she cried helplessly.
Lola patted her back sympathetically. Penny’s hands twitched at her sides, missing her whistle and clipboard. I felt defeated, about to give up. Bella had to receive her call and announce that she hadn’t been able to…
I felt a chill, a tingling that started at my neck and ran down my shoulders. Thumping in my chest. I repeated the words, this time out loud. “Scraping sounds, machinery, cars, numbers in a book, speed…”
They all stared at me.
“I think I know where they’ve hidden Carlos,” I rasped. Could it be? Speedwell Auto Parts in Bernridge. Machinery, cars, numbers. Carlos was the bookkeeper. And Bella had almost “seen” one part of the company’s name. I tapped numbers on my cell phone in a rush. “I’m calling Suki. Lola, would you take Bella to the station? I’ll give her a heads-up that you’re coming. She’ll know what to do about Carlos.”
“Thank you,” Bella said, grasping my hands. “You may have saved our lives.” She headed out the door with Lola, relief flooding her face. The first glimmer of hope since she’d appeared at the Windjammer this evening.
“Suki will take care of things.” Along with Bill, who should be back home this hour.
I gave Suki a thumbnail description of the past couple of hours. If she was astounded at the revelations, she hid it well. Typical Suki. I felt better that she was on the case. The Etonville PD would have Carlos safe, the Bernridge Police raiding Speedwell Auto Parts, and the second hitman in custody before the night was over.
Penny had been observing the scene unfold silently. Now, she shifted positions and plopped into a makeup chair, stretching her legs onto the makeup counter. Walter would have a fit if he saw her. “Gotta hand it to you, O’Dell. You brought your A game.”
“Thanks. I think.” I slung my bag over my shoulder, pulling out my cell phone. I would text Bill that Lola and Bella were at the police station and—
“Carlos didn’t lose his calendar, did he?” she asked.
I paused. “Nope.”
“Hard to get anything past me.” She tilted onto the two rear legs of the chair. “Walter will go ballistic when he finds out Carlos was playing hide-and-seek in Bernridge instead of at the brush-up rehearsal. Not very professional.”
I shook my head. “Someone broke the mold when they made you, Penny.”
She grinned and chuckled. “You got that right. I’m one of a kind.”
Geez.
“I’m going to hang around the theater a while longer,” I said. “No need for you to stay. I’ll make sure the door is locked when I leave. And the lights off.”
The front legs of Penny’s chair landed with a thud. “O’Dell, you can’t be in the theater alone without management.” She pointed to herself. “Moi. And I have to leave. Got an appointment.”
I had to think fast. “I’m on official police business. Bill…Chief Thompson should be here any minute.”
Penny eyed me dubiously. “Nobody told me about it.”
“This job is strictly on a need-to-know basis.” Would that discourage her? “Penny, I need you to exit through the front door, park your car down the block, and keep an eye on anyone who tries to enter the building. Can you do that without being seen?”
“This has something to do with the guy in the graveyard, doesn’t it?” she asked, excited.
“You didn’t hear this from me…but…”
“Don’t worry, O’Dell. I’m on it.” She cleaned her glasses on her sweatshirt. “No one will get by me.”
“What about your appointment?”
Penny smirked. “Dinner can wait.”
“Be sure to text me if you see anyone.”
“Got it.” She left the dressing room.
The door to the stage opened and closed. Then silence.
The backstage was eerie. I flicked off the lights in the dressing room and walked onstage. As I stared into the house, the stage lights blinded me. I could hardly see the last row of seats. No word from Bill. I exited into the stage right wing, where I was confronted with a prop table, a rolling wardrobe rack, coils of electrical cable…and the coffin. When Bella had repeated Carlos’s direction to examine the Act One scenery, the doors, windows, and furniture were the most logical places to search. And we’d found nothing. I was starting to wonder…Given Carlos’s vague clue to the flash drive’s whereabouts, maybe he didn’t want that memory stick to be turned over to the hitman. Whatever evidence he had, Carlos, in his arrogant way, intended to keep it to safeguard his freedom. I figured he knew the criminal types he was dealing with and that his life—and Bella’s—would be worth nothing once the flash drive was handed over. Despite his claim to have made a copy of the evidence. Though he’d told Bella to search the Act One scenery, it was possible he’d slipped the memory stick into the coffin.
The light was dim backstage. I flipped on my flashlight and lifted the creaky lid. I trembled involuntarily, remembering the last time I fooled with the box. I began a methodical examination of the interior. JC had covered the sides and bottom of the casket in black fabric to keep the stake-stabbing of the Dracula dummy as invisible as possible. I ran my hands around the rim of the box, feeling inside and outside the material. Nothing. Then I patted down the sides of the coffin, looking for even small bumps in the fabric where a tiny object could be hidden. Again, no luck. Maybe I was wrong.
Only the bottom was left to explore. JC had padded the surface with foam rubber to muffle sound. On top of it, every night he’d placed a small sandbox into which Romeo pounded the stake that ended Dracula’s life. The foam rubber was tacked securely to the wooden box, leaving no room for objects to be slipped underneath. Being thorough, I ran my fingers over the entire foam surface. Frustrated at not finding anything again, I rocked back on my heels. Where was it?
I heard a faint thump, and my stomach twisted. I flicked off my flashlight and texted Penny: see anyone come in yet? My heart knocked against my rib cage. She answered: nope. That was bad news. Someone might have gotten by Penny and broken into the theater.
I closed the lid of the coffin and secured the latch. I stooped, duckwalking my way farther into the dark of the backstage area, scooting behind a tall pile of neatly folded curtains. I pulled them around me, willing myself into a tiny ball of humanity. The thea
ter was silent. Could the thump have been my imagination? Minutes passed with no sign of an intruder. Then another thump from behind me, somewhere near the green room. No wonder Penny, sitting in her car out front, didn’t see anything. Whoever it was probably broke in via the shop door that opened onto the loading dock. Less visibility through a back entrance.
My mind raced…in my panic to determine which way the visitor had entered, I hadn’t stopped to consider exactly who the visitor might be. Could I have been wrong about Speedwell Auto Parts? Maybe Carlos wasn’t being held there; maybe I’d sent Suki and the Bernridge cops on a wild-goose chase; maybe the hitman was still on the loose or in the theater now; maybe the government agent supposedly protecting Carlos had lost him; maybe—
A footstep scraped behind me. My pulse shot from zero to sixty. I burrowed deeper into my nest of curtains, squeezing my eyes shut. If I couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see me—
“Dodie?” a voice rasped.
“Arrgh!” I yelled, my arms flailing in self-defense.
Hands grasped me, pulling the curtains aside. “What are you doing in there?” asked Bill, squatting down to my eye level.
“You scared me half to death!” I continued to yell.
“Calm down. It’s just me.” He put an arm around my back. “Sorry. I wasn’t sure if anyone was in the theater.”
I took huge breaths.
“Suki called as my plane landed. I went straight to the station. Then came here.”
“Did she fill you in on—”
“Yeah. Bella Villarias and the psychic thing. Speedwell Auto Parts. Bernridge PD, the whole enchilada.” He brushed a loose strand of hair off my face. “You okay? And, more importantly, what are you doing here?”
“Why are you here?” I asked in return.
“You texted me, remember? When I didn’t hear back, I thought I’d double-check to see what you were up to.”
I was happy to see his grin appear, the left side of his mouth ticking upward.
“So Carlos is safe? They caught the hitman?”
Bill’s face turned grim. “Things are in progress. Suki is handling the Etonville end. She’ll keep me posted. Thanks to you, Carlos should be freed within the hour if all goes well.”
Killing Time Page 22
