Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 08 - Foul Play

by Christy Barritt

I tumbled into the closet.

  ***

  “Who are you and what do you want from me?” someone whispered through the darkness.

  Fear scrambled across my skin, raising my hair as I pushed myself away from whoever was in here with me. I reached for the doorknob but only felt a blank wall.

  “Who are you and what are you doing in here?” I finally asked as the scent of pine cleaner filled my nostrils. Apparently, this was still being used as the custodian’s closet.

  “Oh. It’s you!” Disdain tinged the voice.

  My fear dissipated, replaced with annoyance. “Arie? How’d you end up here?”

  “You don’t think I wandered here by myself, do you?” The bitterness in her voice grew more brittle with every overly emphasized word.

  I bit my tongue. There I’d been, trying to help her, and this was the thanks I received?

  “For the record, I was looking for you when I got pushed inside.” I leaned back and was pretty sure I’d knocked over a bottle of the granules custodians used to clean up vomit. A horrible smell filled the room. Perfect.

  “Some rescuer you are then.”

  If I had to stay in this closet much longer with this woman, I might strangle her myself. “Let’s see if we can get out of here.”

  “You can’t open this from the inside. I wouldn’t be in here if I could.”

  I scowled, even if she couldn’t see me. “Sometimes locks can be manipulated.”

  “Like you’d know how to do that.”

  I bit my tongue again, refusing to say what I really wanted to say. “You have any better ideas?”

  “Pound on the door and scream like crazy?”

  “Not bad.” I stood and felt around until I found the doorknob. I twisted it, knowing good and well it wasn’t going to give. Then I felt around for the lock and shook my head. There was nothing on this side of the door but a blank handle with no lock or keyhole.

  I pounded my fist on the wood. “Somebody, help us!”

  “No one can hear us. We’re too far away from everyone.”

  “They’ll hear us eventually. Besides, this was your idea,” I reminded her.

  “Yeah, well, I tried it already and it didn’t work. We’re too far away.”

  “How about your cell?”

  “There’s no service in here.”

  “What?” I pulled out my phone. Sure enough, I didn’t have any service either. Then I remembered that there was a boiler room behind us and the air conditioning system was on the other side. Of course there was no reception here. There were too many things to block our signals.

  I sighed, resigning myself to waiting this out. Hopefully one of the search teams would head this way. I brushed off some of the smelly granules that had stuck to my hand and tried to focus.

  “What happened, Arie?” I asked. “How’d you end up in here?”

  “When the lights went out, someone put their hand over my mouth and pulled me here.” She let out an annoyed harrumph.

  “Man or woman?”

  “Man, I think.”

  “You think?”

  She sighed this time. “It was complicated. I was scared. He or she seemed pretty strong. Of course, I’m five foot eleven. The height makes it difficult to just grab me.”

  Well, that didn’t help me narrow it down.

  “Did he or she say anything?” I needed more information. Certainly she had something else to offer.

  “If they’d said something I’d know whether they were a he or a she, now wouldn’t I?”

  Arie was really not likeable.

  “Why do you sound like a cop?” Arie muttered. “All these questions make me uncomfortable.”

  “I assure you, I’m not a cop.” I had to tone it down before my cover was blown. “So, you were on Cascade Falls?”

  It seemed conversational enough to me.

  “What about it?” she snapped.

  My resolve started to crumble. “You weren’t exactly forthcoming.”

  “I didn’t have to be forthcoming. Everyone knows I was on the show. I don’t have to tell people. I’m famous.”

  “I see.” The girl had a major ego problem. Perhaps she was delusional as well because I hadn’t heard anyone mention the show or treat her like she walked on water.

  “You really didn’t know I was on the show?”

  I’d heard it. There was a crack in her confidence. Instead of going in for the kill, I tempered my voice and tried to soften the blow. “I don’t watch much TV. But I do know that all the incidents that have been happening here at the Cultural Arts Center might end up being good publicity for your play.”

  “What?” she screeched. “What are you suggesting?”

  I didn’t have to see her to know she had an incredulous expression on her face.

  “I’m suggesting that you have fading star power and you want it back. You wrote this play and, to ensure it gets the attention you think it deserves, maybe you staged some of the things happening around the school. Maybe you didn’t mean to kill Scarlet. Maybe that was an accident.”

  “You’re crazy!”

  I was sure to keep my voice level. “Am I? Because that theory sounds pretty good to me.”

  “I’ll admit—I’d love some attention for the show. I may have delighted in some of the spooky things happening, only because I knew it would tie in nicely with my musical, which was about a specter. But I would never stage these things. I especially wouldn’t kill someone!”

  “So, again, you seem like the type who enjoys talking about your accomplishments. I’m not sure I buy into the idea of everyone knowing who you are. You’ve purposely not mentioned it or talked about it.”

  “I was waiting to play that card closer to the time of the play’s release. Timing is everything, and I didn’t want to leak the information to the press too early. This is my chance for a big break, but I wanted to get it the right way.”

  Wait—so everyone knew who she was yet she was keeping it quiet? I got it that actors were extremely complicated people, a strange mix of arrogance and insecurity. But she wasn’t making much sense.

  “To clarify—you’re saying you’re not behind any of the vandalisms?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Her voice sounded crispy. “And I resent your implications, Ms. It’s-Not-What-You-Know-But-Who.”

  Maybe she wasn’t a killer or a criminal, but she was definitely a jerk.

  Silence stretched between us. Awkward, cringe inducing silence. We both sat on the floor of the closet. I pulled my knees to my chest, unable to escape from Arie.

  “So, what do you do, Gabby?” She said my name like it was a bad word. “Besides butchering my musical?”

  Anger started to grow in me, but I tried to keep a handle on it. Snapping—again—would do me no good. “I have a cleaning, restoration, and renovation business.”

  “Really? Kind of like one of those gals on HGTV?”

  Exactly like that, only different. “You might say.”

  “Have you ever thought of doing a reality series?”

  I laughed a little too hard. “No, someone already talked to me about doing a reality series. I’m not interested.” I almost added that the reality series would be based on crime scene cleaning. I was glad I stopped myself before I got there. Admitting that much would raise too many questions and possibly blow my cover.

  “I guess you have the look for TV.”

  I was pretty sure she’d meant that as a compliment. “Thank you?”

  “I mean, for a tom boy contractor, at least.”

  I scowled. Focus, Gabby. Focus. This was the perfect time to question her because she couldn’t escape. I mentally let out an evil laugh. “How’d you go from soap star to playwright, Arie?”

  “I’ve always had an interest in show business. I figured I needed to strike while the iron was hot.”

  So she’d picked a start up community theater group? Again, I kept my mouth shut. I was slowly learning that I didn’t have to say eve
rything that popped into my mind. It had only taken me nearly thirty years to get that through my thick skull.

  “Well, I look forward to seeing it all come together. It sounds like you have … quite a bit of experience under your belt. I’m sure it will all benefit this production immensely.” It pained me to say the words, but they flowed out anyway.

  Silence fell for a minute.

  “I guess you’re not too bad. Maybe I can stop discluding you from my party invites.”

  “What party invites?” And is “discluding” really a word?

  “The ones you haven’t been receiving.”

  “O … kay.”

  “It’s true. Almost every night after practice, the cast hangs out. Everyone except you, that is.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say thank you. You’re a part of the in crowd now, Gabby. But I can quickly disavow you from the group. Keep that in mind also.”

  “Just so we’re not disclear, I will.”

  “What?” Confusion clenched her voice.

  “Disregard that.” I smiled, humoring myself.

  “Whatever. You’re so weird.” Silence stretched a moment. “So, if we get out of here tonight, the cast is going to go hang out. Join us if you want. But don’t take this as some kind of professional stamp of approval. I still would have picked a different actress to play Elsa.”

  “Understood.”

  Maybe this was the “in” I needed in order to find some answers.

  CHAPTER 15

  Though some kind of wall had seemed to crumble—slightly—between Arie and me during our confinement together, it had nearly built back up as Arie talked nonstop about herself in the minutes after her party invite.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to hear about her Hollywood career, the famous people she’d eaten with, and the gigs she’d almost-but-not-quite gotten, etc.

  But I had other things to think about.

  Like would the killer come back and finish us off, too? And who exactly had locked us in the closet? Why would someone pretend to be a ghost? Even stranger—Scarlet was dead, but someone continued to sabotage the play. Was Scarlet’s death really about ruining the play? Or was something else going on?

  Nothing made any sense.

  Plus, I would think that a murderer would be on the run after killing someone. Every time he or she did something else here at the school, it only increased the likelihood of being discovered.

  Someone jangled the door handle. A moment later, dim light flooded the space. I squinted against it.

  “Arie? Gabby?”

  The figure moved, his head now blocking the bulb directly behind him. “Jerome?” I asked.

  “We’ve been looking all over for you guys. Are you okay?” He offered his hand, pulling Arie up first and me second.

  It felt good to stretch my legs. I wiped granules from my back, my hands, and my arms, and stepped out.

  I’d never been so glad to see my old middle school hallway.

  “Looks like the phantom has struck again,” Jerome muttered as we began walking down the hallway.

  “The phantom? You really think a ghost is behind this?” He seriously couldn’t believe that. If he did, then there were just too many people around here who were a few rungs short in the ladder leading to logic land.

  He shrugged. “Seems a likely excuse to me. The ghost of Rose doesn’t want the show to go on. I don’t know about you, but I’m almost ready to run and give her what she wants. I’ll never be a famous actor if I’m dead.”

  “There have been plenty of plays at this school,” I began. “Why would she just target this one?” Not that I thought ghosts were real. But in order to connect with certain cast members, I had to get on their level, which meant I had to hammer out this ghost theory.

  “Those were middle school plays,” Arie said, turning up her nose.

  “They were some pretty good plays!” I argued.

  Arie raised an eyebrow. “How would you know?”

  I remembered that I was undercover. “I mean, I acted in middle school and the work my drama troupe did was pretty impressive. I bet it was the same here.”

  “Hm.” She eyed me. “I think Rose is afraid we’ll make history and outdo her.”

  Outdo her? No one here had even heard the story about her! I kept my mouth shut.

  I really needed to check with Clarice to see if she’d done any research yet. Was there any truth at all to this crazy story?

  “Where is everyone?” I decided to change the subject.

  “They’re all quarantined in the choir room. We didn’t want anyone else to disappear,” Jerome said.

  Paulette looked like a nervous wreck when we arrived. She walked over to me and pulled me into a hug. I wanted desperately to remind her that we weren’t supposed to know each other, but I kept my mouth shut in order not to draw any more attention to the situation.

  I noticed a smudge of dirt on Paulette’s cheek and some dust in her hair. Just where had Paulette been and what had she been doing?

  Mrs. Baker clapped to get our attention. “I know the past few weeks have been crazy—to say the least—but we only have a week to pull this together. We’ve got a lot of work to do, gang. I’ll need to make sure you’re all committed.”

  I glanced around. Arie, Jerome, The Shining Twins, and Bennie all nodded. Paulette stared off into space. Was the guilty party in this room? I hated to think it could be true, but that’s what I was leaning toward more and more.

  “We need to get back into the auditorium and run through this from start to finish,” Mrs. Baker continued. “We don’t have much time and we still have a lot of kinks to work out.”

  “Tickets are on sale and we’ve nearly sold out. But I can’t afford to refund the money to people and go in the hole,” Paulette said.

  Sold out? A couple of articles had run about Scarlet’s death. Had the bad publicity bolstered sales? Would that give Paulette motivation for murder? The thought startled me. How could I suspect my old friend? Being objective was so hard sometimes. Of course I didn’t want to doubt the innocence of someone I considered a friend.

  “The future of this theater is riding on the success of this play,” Paulette continued. “I’m going to up the security here at the school and do everything in my power to prevent any more of these vandalisms from occurring and acting as obstacles to our success.”

  Everyone nodded again. A new somberness had come over the cast. I’d have bet more than one person was considering getting out while they could.

  Mrs. Baker’s eyes met mine, and I saw the concern there. She was as worried about all of this as anyone else.

  We filed silently back into the auditorium and took our places, everyone’s movements wooden, stiff, almost hesitant.

  Bennie placed her hand on my arm. “You okay? You look a little shaken.”

  I nodded. “I’m fine.”

  “Not everyone stayed in groups, you know,” she whispered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that I saw several people wandering around by themselves or slipping out to the bathroom. It makes me wonder if one of them locked you in that closet.”

  “Like who?” I whispered back. I glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention.

  “Like Jerome, for example. Arie mentioned that he was alone when he found you. Isn’t that suspicious?”

  It was true. But what reason would Jerome have to be behind these acts? Then I remembered that I hadn’t found out anything about him when I did my Internet search. Maybe he wasn’t who he claimed to be. That would explain why he had no web presence. Actors usually wanted as much attention as they could get.

  “Elsa, you’re up.”

  I cleared my throat and swirled on stage while the chorus began singing, “What Do You Do with a Slightly Flighty Nun.” This was the opening where everyone at the convent gave me their blessing to go off to the theater and, in the meantime, out of their hair—or maybe I should say
their “wimples.”

  After I was whisked out of my home at the abbey, the lights went down. Stagehands wearing all black moved flats and set pieces for the next scene, a theater within the actual theater.

  I mentally ran through my lines as I stood on the black stage, waiting for the lights to come back up.

  You’re the Spector. Please don’t hurt me. What do you want? Why can’t you leave us all alone?

  My mental voice deepened as I silently repeated Jerome’s lines also. You’re all I’ve dreamed about, Elsa. You came to me. I knew you would. I’ve been waiting.

  The lights came up. In the blackness, I hadn’t even realized that my gaze was fixated on the orchestra pit below. With no live music, the space was used for storage now and filled with old chairs and music stands.

  Something else in the pit caught my eye.

  As the music started for “Climb Every Steeple,” I did a double take.

  There was a body in the pit. A dead body.

  I let out a blood-curdling scream.

  CHAPTER 16

  “I’m telling you, if that body had been down there for more than a few hours, we would have smelled it. It was placed there some time between when the lights went out and when play practice started,” I whispered to Detective Charlie Henderson.

  “I assure you, we’re investigating, Gabby,” Charlie said.

  Everyone else had been sequestered back in the choir room, but I remained with both Paulette and Mrs. Baker.

  No one was allowed to leave until after they were questioned. Which essentially made everyone a possible suspect or witness.

  Bennie’s words kept coming back to me, though.

  Not everyone stayed in in groups, you know.

  Jerome.

  As I glanced over at the body of the man from the pit, I realized I’d never seen him before. He could possibly be the man I’d seen in the parking lot that day, but I couldn’t even be sure of that. He definitely wasn’t a cast member, and Paulette confirmed he didn’t work here at the building.

  “May I?” I asked Charlie as the gurney came closer.

  She stared at me uncertainly.

  “I did work for the medical examiner before budget cuts,” I reminded her.