“Frank had left Gabe to work with me on the mic’ing system for Patrick’s costumes. We were experimenting with different earpieces, trying to find ones that couldn’t be seen and could work without interrupting other frequencies. We weren’t having a lot of luck. Gabe was doing well, but he kept having to call Frank for help. I asked why Frank wasn’t there, and Gabe said he was doing ‘stuff.’ He didn’t expound on that—”
“He’s a teenager, so he doesn’t expound on much these days,” Regina apologized.
“I remember it well,” Stewart said. “But he was worried enough to tell me Frank was a little freaked. Gabe’s description, not mine. But when Frank returned later, he seemed serene. Offered to step in for Gabe.
“We worked for a little while, and he took notes about what wasn’t working. He finally said he needed to buy a new transmitter or something, and that we couldn’t do anything more tonight. Then he offered me a drink. I suggested we go to the Beef and Ale, but Frank said he wasn’t up to seeing anyone and he had a bottle in the trap room. He sounded so pitiful that I couldn’t … I went down with him and had a drink. And I told him I was sorry for his troubles. He broke down, said something about Brooke bringing him a gun yesterday. He didn’t make much sense after that, so I told him I’d be going. I went up the stairs and called you, Sully. The next thing I knew, I fell down the stairs. My head was bleeding. Then Sully came riding in to the rescue.”
“Hardly riding in,” I said.
“If you hadn’t, he would have killed me. I’m fairly sure of that. He was mustering up the courage when you came down. Poor bastard.”
“What do you mean, ‘poor’? He tried to kill you,” Gus said.
“He wasn’t himself. I’ll testify to that, if he needs it. He really got screwed up by this Brooke woman. What was she doing having an affair with a guy like Frank? She was way out of his league.”
“Not so far out of his league,” I said. “They had similar backgrounds. She may have even started to care. I wonder if Terry didn’t put her up to it? Maybe he realized that Emma had started to suspect he was having an affair.” I paused, assessing the pieces that had all started to come together. “But Terry must have realized Brooke was a liability, and so he started to poison her. Still hard for me to believe.”
“Not so hard, Sully,” Regina said. “From what I’ve gathered, Terry had a bit of a sociopathic streak. It worked well for him for a long time. He charmed his wife and her family. Positioned himself to take over the whole thing. But then he fell for Brooke and they started their affair. The affair started to unravel his plan. So he had to stop it.”
“But poison? Jeez, that’s a tough way to kill someone. Especially someone you see every day,” Stewart said.
“Love is pretty close to hate on the passion scale.”
“I guess. But this is more dramatic than anything in A Christmas Carol. Speaking of which, when can I get out of here? We have a paying audience tomorrow night.”
“You got shot, Stewart.” Silently I blessed him for worrying more about the show than he did his own health. Bless actors—“the show must go on” wasn’t just a quaint motto.
“Grazed. The bike spill caused me more pain.”
“You got shot. You may have hit your head. Don’t underestimate the power of the pain meds, my friend. You need to stick around for a while longer. Once they give you the okay, we’ll get you out of here. But I think we need to postpone Friday’s show. The Saturday matinee can be our first paid audience.”
“We need all the previews we can get,” Stewart said. He tried to sit up but fell back against the pillows. The color was coming back into his cheeks. Could he perform on pain meds? I hated myself for wondering—and hated myself more for hoping so.
“How about if we add a show on Sunday?” I said. “That way you can rest, but we can get the previews in. What do you think?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Stewart said. “Of course, I’ll need a nurse to take care of me once I get out of here.” He reached his hand out, and I took it and squeezed.
“Connie has already said you can stay with her family for the next few days,” I reminded him.
“Damn. There goes the party. Gus, will you be staying in town to see the show?”
“Actually, I’d love to. I can’t wait to see how it turns out after all of this. Think I could get a ticket for opening night?”
“You’re in luck,” Regina said. “I know the box office staff. Will that be one ticket or two?”
Acknowledgments
I am so grateful to Terri Bischoff and the Midnight Ink team for bringing this book to life. It was a long-held dream that this series would get published, and I couldn’t be more thrilled.
There are so many groups of folks who worked with me on this manuscript throughout the years. Thank you to the Natick Writing Group, Guppy swaps, Sisters in Crime, Dana Cameron, Sherry Harris, Ruth Polleys, Jason Allen-Forrest, and the dozens of other folks who read this manuscript in varying stages of development.
Thank you to my agent, John Talbot, for being on this ride with me.
Thank you to the wonderful Wicked Cozy Authors. Barbara Ross, Liz Mugavero, Edith Maxwell, Jessie Crocket Estevao, and Sherry Harris are my cheerleaders, and my friends. WickedCozyAuthors.com is one of the great joys in my writing life. A special thanks to our readers who are so supportive.
Thank you to the New England theater community, and to the board and staff of StageSource. I love my theater life and will be forever grateful for the support from the arts community. #ArtsMatter
Thank you to my wonderful parents, Paul and Cindy Hennrikus.
Thank you to my sisters Kristen and Caroline; my brothers-in-law Bryan and Glenn; my nieces Tori, Becca, and Mallory; my nephews Chase and Harrison; my godchildren Emma and Evan. I have the greatest family in the world. Your love means the world to me.
© Meg Manion
About the Author
J. A. Hennrikus writes the Theater Cop series for Midnight Ink. As Julianne Holmes, she writes the Agatha-nominated Clock Shop Mystery series for Berkley Prime Crime. Julie blogs with the Wicked Cozy Authors, is on the board of Sisters in Crime, and is a member of Mystery Writers of America. She is an arts administrator who lives in Massachusetts.
Twitter: @JHAuthors
www.JHAuthors.com
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