by Sonia Parin
Chapter Twelve
“I’m sorry it’s taken so long to find something worthwhile. Miss Lucinda Cunningham had a brilliant career. There were mountains of boxes full of write-ups and reviews to get through. All glowing. Then I stumbled on these press clippings buried in the furthest corner of the archive room.”
I think Octavia is waiting for a drum roll. And if you keep scratching the same ear, you’ll give me a bold patch. Put some thought into it. A bit of variety won’t kill you...
Octavia held up a yellowed page. “This probably explains her early retirement. The reviews were merciless, her last performance considered to be so abysmal, some called for her removal from the Hall of Fame.”
Lexie skimmed through a few of the clippings. The headlines alone had been unforgiving. Deplorable, one read. Disgraceful. Atrocious. In the kindest review, the writer had lamented the downward slippery slide of one of the most revered thespians of her time.
What could have brought all this on?
“I need more time alone with Lucy. I think I nearly had a breakthrough with her today, but she appears to be in denial.”
Everyone looked at Lexie as if searching for signs of insanity or... any remaining dregs of sanity.
“Yes, you heard right. Poor thing, you should have seen her today. She only now realized she’s a ghost, and something happened. She reacted to me asking about her last performance before the Garland closed its doors. This might be the lead we’ve been hoping for,” she said pointing at the reviews. “Can anyone recommend a good grief counselor? I don’t think I’ll be able to wrangle my way out of playing Lady Mac and I definitely can’t do it without Lucy’s help.”
Everyone frowned at her, including her cousins’ orbs... although Lexie acknowledged that was partly due to her imagination.
“Can you all quit doing that? I’m not going nuts and you should all have a little compassion for Lucy. She’s been through a lot.”
Octavia raised her finger tentatively.
“Do you have something to say, Octavia?”
“You might be onto something. She might still be going through the trauma of learning she’s a ghost. Perhaps she’s blocked out the incident. The more you liaise with her, the better the chances of triggering her memory. Something you said or did made her realize she is no longer of this world.”
“So you want me to taunt her into revealing her killer’s identity.” Lexie bit the tip of her thumb. “I’m concerned I might say something to make her withdraw again. Honestly, you should have been there today. She was a mess.”
“If I may,” Mirabelle offered.
“By all means... But, you’d better not be about to suggest my real calling lies in easing the way for spirits to resume their journey into the other world. I’m not cut out for this. It’s... It’s emotionally draining.”
“I merely wanted to say you appear to have everything under control, in fact, I’m sure you do. And your intuition is paying dividends.”
“That’s it?”
“On the upside, no one tried to kill you today.”
Luna gazed at her. Yes, yes, Lexie thought. Keep calm. “Any more sightings of the Shadow?” Lexie asked.
Octavia sat on the couch giving Luna a belly rub. “I haven’t sensed it since the day I showed you the archival material.”
“This is strange. Where is it? What’s it getting up to? It was so active on the night of the cocktail party, it doesn’t make sense for it to now go dormant.”
“Maybe it’s regrouping and waiting for the right moment to strike again.”
“Jonathan, that doesn’t help me.”
“But it’s bound to keep you on your toes. Think about it. What if the shadow is waiting for opening night? We could have a Lady Macbeth serial killer on our hands.”
“You didn’t capitalize the Shadow.”
“How do you know I didn’t?”
“It was in your intonation. You didn’t emphasize the word.”
“Actually Jonathan may be onto something. His idea makes sense. The Shadow could very well be waiting for the right moment to strike. Which bodes well for us,” Grant offered.
“How so?” Lexie asked.
How so? How so? What happened to ‘huh?’
Are you expressing a preference for my informal speech over the more generic... common diction?
Huh? I think Jonathan is right to be worried about you. Next you’ll be saying thou and thee and behold!
Grant flipped his notebook open. “I’ve been following up on Marcela Newton. She is well and truly dead, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t around. Remember, she left under unhappy circumstances. An understudy lives for the opportunity of playing the role of her life and she missed out on it, who knows how many times. That’s enough to nurture deep feelings of resentment. And we all know that’s fodder for mischief.”
“So you’re suggesting Marcela Newton was so consumed by bitterness, she became the Shadow and is now going on a killing spree of anyone who dares to play Lady Macbeth. Are there any other theaters running this play?”
“She might be selectively choosing to kill anyone playing the role at The Garland Theater,” Grant suggested.
They all fell silent for a moment.
“Is anyone thinking I should set myself up as bait?”
They all looked askance.
Jonathan cleared his throat and eventually said, “I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“But it might be the only way,” Grant offered.
“Grant, I’d appreciate you finishing the sentence. If setting myself up as bait is going to be the only way, you should add a plan of action. Do you know of any practical, failsafe way of catching a shadow?”
“We have five days until opening night. I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”
Lexie nodded and mouthed the words she wanted to hear him speak.
Grant took the prompt and said, “We will use all our resources and find a way to capture the Shadow.”
“Much better, thank you.”
Luna sauntered over to her side.
If anything happens to you, do I get to keep Octavia? She gives really nice belly rubs. Not that anything is going to happen to you, but it would be practical for you put something in writing. Many people leave their worldly possessions to their cats. I’ve heard horror stories about cats forced to live in alleyways and scavenge for their food in trash cans. You wouldn’t want me to end up in skid row when it can all be avoided by a simple drawing up of a document.
You’re very well versed. Who’s been filling your head with those ideas?
I get around. I hear stories. But none of this is to say something will happen to you. Still... it wouldn’t hurt to make provisions for your nearest and dearest.
“Hands up anyone who thinks I’m going to end up being gobbled up by the Shadow.”
“We’d never let it come to that,” the orbs responded in unison.
“Octavia.”
“Mmm?”
“You’ve been very quiet. Aren’t you the least bit concerned about my wellbeing? Until now, it’s all you’ve cared about. Is there something you know that I might perhaps benefit from knowing?”
I don’t mean to get on your case, but really... have you noticed how you’ve acquired a new way of expressing yourself?
Huh?
Forget I said anything. Now about writing a last will and testament...
Octavia rose to her feet and straightened her skirt. Moments later, the door buzzer rang. “I’ve ordered all your favorite food.”
See, she has a contingency plan. It’s called forward thinking.
Really. To me, it smacks of last supper.
Lexie. Wake up. Lexie!
Huh?
Alexandra Elizabeth Mackenzie. This is not a drill. Wake up!
You have got to be kidding me. As if I don’t see enough of you during the day, now you haunt my dreams?
You are not dreaming. The Shadow is here.
Lexie stilled. In fact, she froze.
“Where is it?” she whispered. “I can’t see anything.” Possibly because she still wore her sleep mask and... She tried to move her hands but they wouldn’t respond.
Hush. It’ll hear you. At least... we assume it can. Let’s not test it.
What do you think it wants? And how did it get here? Did it follow me? Were we right about it wanting to kill everyone who plays Lady Mac? How close is it to me? I can’t move. Why aren’t you saying anything? Talk to me. Mirabelle? Catharine?
We’re not talking because you are. Now, calm down. We think it’s on a recognizance mission. It appears to be sniffing.
Why would a Shadow sniff?
Ours is not to reason why but to determine what to do about it. Fear not, we are here and we’ll do everything in our power to protect you.
How can you do that if you don’t know what you’re up against? And if you could protect me, wouldn’t you have cast some sort of protection spell over my apartment?
We did not pre-empt this. It took us by surprise.
Duh! The element of surprise is a killer’s most effective weapon. We should have been prepared for this. What’s it doing now? Is it anywhere near me?
It’s outside your window. Wait... Wait. Now it’s inside.
Why didn’t you do something while it was outside?
Mirabelle is working on it.
For future reference, Mirabelle needs to hone her skills and have a spell at the ready. What sort of High Chair is she if she can’t whip something up on the spot? We can’t have her running around her spacious Hall... possibly tearing her hair out looking for a solution. Think quick ready to bake cake mix, not baking from scratch.
Stay calm. Don’t move.
I’ve got that part covered. I can’t move. As for the former... How can I stay calm when I could be about to draw my last breath?
Mirabelle will come up with something. Relax.
I have full faith in Mirabelle’s ability to find a solution but her timing sucks.
Would you like me to tell you about my lovely cottage in the hills? It’s in full bloom all year round. My Hollyhock is particularly splendid. No one in the district manages to grow it so tall. The spikes nearly reach the roof... oh, and the colors. They are magnificent. Vibrant reds and... Oh, here she is.
Right. Can you remove your sleep mask, please?
No.
Alexandra, this is no time for you to be difficult.
I’m petrified... as in, I can’t move from fear. That’s what happens when you wake me up in the middle of the night telling me there’s a deadly Shadow about to kill me.
I am sure those are not the exact words we used.
You’re arguing with me? Now?
Right. I guess it will just have to be the two of us. Catherine and I will intensify our attention on the Shadow and you... you can focus your mental attention on it.
I’m shivering. Why am I shivering? Am I dying? Has it already killed me? I don’t look good in white.
Hush. That is merely us stirring the elements. We’re creating a whirlpool and disturbing the air while at the same time energizing it with an incantation enriched with pure goodness.
Great. Why not pasteurize it while you’re at it.
The theory is that the Shadow was only able to get this close because it had no impediments.
Duh!
We need to saturate the room until it has no space left to lurk.
It’s a Shadow. Why not simply flip the light switch on?
Oh... That might work. We didn’t think of that.
Is that turn on the light or switch on the light? I tend to turn on my lights but I have an atmospheric light so I can adjust it by turning the knob. A soft light for mellow moods. A brighter light for when I’m searching for something. Either way, I tend to turn on my lights. My neighbor, however, has a switch so she switches on the light. So when you say flip—
“What’s going on?”
“Octavia. Thank you.” Mirabelle sighed with relief. “We were splitting hairs. Quibbling. Making petty distinctions... trying to figure out if we should switch on the light... or turn on...”
Lexie grumbled. “You can snap your fingers and have Jonathan and Grant appear in front of me but you have to hold a council meeting to determine how to tackle a simple thing like a light switch?” Lexie wrenched the sleep mask off her. “Has it gone?”
“What has?” Octavia asked.
“The Shadow was here. These two woke me up and... I froze.”
“At a time like this?”
“Where’s Luna?”
“She’s asleep.”
“Where?”
“At the foot of my bed. She... She needed a belly rub. Oh, and she wanted to talk about contingency plans. I think she’s concerned about the future... in case, something happens to you. I tried to explain to her I move around a lot so I wouldn’t be able to offer her a steady, comfortable home environment...”
“Are you feeling better?” Catherine asked.
Lexie flexed her fingers. “Getting there.” But exasperation was fast taking a hold of her.
“This is a game changer,” Octavia murmured. “The Shadow has found out where you live. It must be getting desperate. Or perhaps it’s trying to cover all angles and making sure it can get to you anywhere.”
“No. Something’s definitely changed. I’ve been at the theater every day and it hadn’t shown its shadowy face. Now suddenly, it’s tracked me down here.” Something... someone must have forced its hand, she thought. “What if it somehow learned about our plans to set a trap?”
“I think we only got as far as deciding you would set yourself up as bait. We don’t actually have a plan.”
Lexie flung the bedcovers off. “Well then... I guess we’d better get everyone back here and work on a plan.”
Octavia cleared her throat. “It’s actually three in the morning.”
“Right. Well... In that case... Why don’t you all make yourselves comfortable? No need to turn off the light...”
Chapter Thirteen
They all stood outside The Garland Theater, their attention fixed on the poster advertising the opening night.
“I thought the play didn’t open for another five days.” Lexie’s breath came out in choppy bursts. “Who authorized this preview?” Only two days away.
“I’ll double check,” Octavia made a note on her invisible notepad, “But I’m sure you know as well as I do there’s only one person eager for the show to go on.”
Constance Hargreaves.
What was the deal with her?
More to the point. What deal had she made with Morgana and how did it involve Lexie?
“Shouldn’t Catherine and Mirabelle be here?” Jonathan asked. “I’m thinking you need all the backup you can get. Especially after last night.”
“They’re my element of surprise,” Lexie declared.
Jonathan brushed his chin. “Can you actually rely on them?”
“They were there last night. In fact, if not for them... I’d be wafting over to sit with Lucy.” Lexie groaned. “I hope I don’t come back as a ghost. Everyone needs to promise me you’ll hunt down the Shadow responsible for my imminent demise.”
“You might want to revise your attitude,” Octavia suggested. “It doesn’t actually instill any trust in our abilities to prevent your untimely departure from this realm.”
“Thank you for pointing that out and thank you for today’s outfit.” Lexie adjusted the high collar on her blouse and played with her necklace. The silver pendant reminded her of her cousins’ orbs, which she found comforting. “Do Shadows read?”
Octavia tipped her head in thought. “I can’t answer with any degree of certainty, but I’m happy to assume a Shadow harboring nefarious intentions would do all it could to employ whatever means possible to gather information and carry out their evil deeds.”
“Either that, or... the Shadow has an accomplice,” Lexie suggested, “Perhaps someone pulling the strings.”
“The rogue witch?” Grant asked.
“Yes. I assume this went up last night,” Lexie gestured to the poster, “In which case, the Shadow... and its accomplice, decided to take action and... nip this...” this time, she stabbed her finger at the poster, “This hasty and boy-I-didn’t-see-it-coming surprise in the bud.”
“Sabotage,” they all murmured.
“Jonathan.”
“Right here beside you.”
“The night of the cocktail party, do you remember if there were any house lights on?”
“No... not as such. There was some sort of soft glow. An eerie light, now that I think about it. But no spotlights.”
“Last night, when Octavia hit the light switch, the Shadow disappeared.”
“So in theory, we need to keep the stage well lit.” Jonathan crossed his arms. “What if that’s what it... the Shadow... wants us to think? Lights or no lights, we shouldn’t let our guards down.”
Lexie pressed her hand against her neck. “Agreed. I’m rather fond of breathing and I’m curious about the Hall Mirabelle lives in. I’d like to see it and preferably in my current physical state. Although, it would be fun to haunt her...”
A distinct feeling of being watched had Lexie turning. The rest followed suit.
“I assume someone is vetting everyone coming inside the theater.”
Grant nodded. “That’s the rest of the cast.”
“Including Melanie Matthews, Lucy’s understudy,” Lexie murmured recognizing her from the cast photos.
“You mean, your understudy.”
She scowled at Jonathan. “Are you suggesting I should resign myself to the fact I will be appearing on stage for opening night?”
He shrugged. “Resign to it or live in denial. It’s your choice.”
The cast members gazed at Lexie with curiosity.
“I’m picking up feelings of resentment. Then again, I experienced a recent attempt on my life so I might be feeling slightly paranoid.”
The understudy approached, her left hand extended. “Miss Mackenzie. I’m Melanie Matthews, your understudy. Sorry, as you can see, my arm is in a cast, but I didn’t want to let the team down and... and I’m always eager to learn from the best.”
