Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 08 - Foul Play

by Christy Barritt

  I pulled my foot out from under the wall that smelled like a shrine to dirty socks, grateful that a bench had prevented the lockers from trapping me completely. As I drug myself to my feet, I rubbed my shoulder and the back of my head. That could have been really ugly.

  I did a mental check of myself, and I was pretty sure I was okay.

  I hobbled out of the gym and down the hallway, wondering if my ego or leg hurt more. I kept my eyes open for anything else suspicious. I figured that guy was long gone now. He’d seen his opportunity to get away and done just that.

  I had to make sure Bennie was okay. What if something happened to her? If the man had snatched her? What if I found her, just like I’d found Scarlet?

  I reached the bathroom and stuck my head inside. “Bennie?”

  Silence answered.

  Strange.

  I stepped inside, looked under each stall. There was no one in here. Where had she gone?

  I went back into the hallway and called her name again.

  Still no answer.

  Just where was she? An even worse thought occurred—what if that man had grabbed her?

  I quickened my steps, looking in every classroom, every office, anywhere I could think of.

  She was nowhere.

  The only place I hadn’t checked was the gated corridors.

  I hurried toward them. Sure enough, one of the padlocks was undone.

  I slipped between the metal and the wall. The hallway appeared clear. But what lurked behind the closed doors, in the places unseen?

  I ran into the first classroom.

  No one was there.

  I pushed into the next one. The shop classroom.

  A figure there caught my eye. “Bennie?”

  I rushed toward the woman in the corner. She stood, hunched as if in pain. “Gabby?”

  “Bennie! What’s going on? What happened?”

  She shook her head, a dazed looked in her eyes. “I don’t know. One minute I was looking for you, the next minute something hit my head. I woke up here.”

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, still looking uncertain. “I think so.”

  As she pulled her hand away from her head, I saw the blood covering her fingers. Alarm spread through me. “We should get you to the hospital.”

  “I’ll be fine. Really. It’s just a little cut. No big deal.”

  I held on to her arm. “Regardless, this stakeout is over. Come on, let’s get you home.”

  When we stepped into the parking lot, I spotted a car parked on the street in front of the school. It was a Mercedes.

  Roberto had a Mercedes, I remembered. It was all he was keeping in the divorce.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if the car was his.

  ***

  The next morning, Chad and I worked silently on a dining room. A hot water heater on the other side of an adjoining wall had burst and caused extensive water damage. No, this wasn’t a crime scene but this job encompassed the new “restoration” portion of our business.

  The two of us had barely said a word to each other since we started the job.

  Last night, after I’d gotten Bennie home, I’d gone to the police station and dropped off the hat that I’d snatched from the intruder. Maybe there’d be some DNA on it. I’d take anything I could get, at this point.

  Whenever I wasn’t being haunted by what happened at the school, Chad’s words had haunted me. The last thing I wanted was to let down people who were depending on me. I had responsibilities. That meant that if I went to Africa with Garrett, I’d essentially have to sign my portion of the business over to Chad. It just wouldn’t be fair to him if I took a sabbatical. He had big visions for the company, and maybe I was still used to being a one-woman show.

  After we’d torn out the floorboards and some drywall, we set up an air scrub to pull the moisture from the room. We also set up a portable heater to help dry the space out. Thankfully, none of the soffits had been damaged; otherwise, it would have been a huge job. We’d enclosed the room, just in case there was any dangerous mold. We tried to contain the damages to one area.

  Our work here was done for a few days until the wood could dry out.

  We slid through the plastic covering at the doorway, gave the homeowners an update, and then stepped outside. Chad started walking to his car without saying anything.

  “Shouldn’t we talk?” I called to him. The wind hit my face, bringing with it a smattering of icy rain.

  He paused, his back toward me. I could see his muscles tighten and release. He wasn’t happy with me.

  “I almost think you want us to fail because you’re too stubborn to give the business up,” he muttered, still not facing me.

  I blanched, feeling like I’d been slapped. “What are you talking about?”

  “You ran off the two employees we had—”

  “Honestly, Chad. That was hardly my fault. And could you please look at me so I don’t have to talk to your backside?”

  He turned, his jaw clenched. “Even still, you just don’t seem committed. Getting a new business off the ground takes blood and sweat and effort. I don’t see it in you.”

  “I was doing just fine on my own before we joined forces!” The words slipped out.

  “Maybe people are right. Maybe friends shouldn’t work together.” His gaze was smoldering.

  I blinked rapidly, hoping I’d misunderstood him. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that we should both take some time to cool down and really think about whether our goals match up, Gabby.”

  His words caused unease to wage in my heart. “What about our commitments for this week?”

  “We still do them. But we reevaluate. Gabby, I have a wife, and soon I’m going to have a baby. I can’t afford not to take this seriously anymore. I can’t keep on living like I’m this single surfer without a care in the world.”

  I nodded, the weight on my shoulders pressing harder. “I understand.”

  “Please don’t mention any of this to Sierra. I don’t want to stress her out, especially with her pregnancy and all.”

  “I won’t.”

  He stared at me a moment before bobbing his head up and down slowly. “I’ll see you at the next crime scene?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  But as soon as I climbed into the car, all I wanted to do was disappear and cry

  CHAPTER 28

  The second crime scene was as painfully awkward as the first. Chad had never acted like this toward me before, and it made me feel terrible.

  I had this crazy vision of one day having everything together. I guess life didn’t work like that. At least my life didn’t work like that. But, in truth, there was a restlessness stirring inside me.

  Lord, what are you trying to tell me? Is all of this unease a sign? And why do I keep returning to the same areas of struggle? Is there any hope of me overcoming these strongholds? Is there any such thing as a life without struggle?

  After Chad and I finished at the second scene, I realized I didn’t have enough time to go back home. Instead, I headed toward the Cultural Arts Center. I needed to study my lines. Opening night was only three days away, and I still had a lot of work to do.

  When I pulled up at the school, there were no other cars in the lot. On a whim, I decided to see if any doors were unlocked. To my surprise, the first one I tried opened.

  “Hello?” I called.

  There was no answer.

  Just to be on the safe side, I checked the office. No Paulette.

  Peter, the maintenance man, wasn’t here either, nor was volunteer assistant Bennie.

  I perched myself in a chair in the auditorium, trying not to stare at the stage too long. I had too many visions of both dead bodies and choking while performing—choking as an actress, not actually choking. Though that was horrifying in its own right. None of those thoughts were appealing. Instead, I read my lines, trying to ingrain them in my memory.

  “Gabby?”

&n
bsp; I looked back and nearly jumped out of my skin.

  The Shining Twins stood there staring at me.

  I pulled myself together, fanning my hot cheeks with the script. “You two scared me to death. You’re both as quiet as …” serial killers from a 1980 horror flick. I didn’t say that, though. I stuck with the well known instead. “Quiet as mice.”

  “We arrived early to work on the set,” one of them said.

  “How’d you get in? I thought the door was locked.”

  “No, the door by the old gymnasium is always unlocked. Other times, the maintenance man lets us in.”

  I stored away that information. “Oh, Peter?”

  The one who always wore red nodded. “Yes, he’s nice.”

  They glanced at each other and when they looked back, both had wrinkles on their forehead.

  “We have something to tell you,” Blue said.

  “Yes, Karen?” I asked.

  “I’m Sharen,” she said.

  “Sorry. Go ahead, Sharen.”

  “We feel like we should tell someone,” Karen said. “But we don’t know who, but you seem more down to earth than some of the others here.”

  I lowered my script. “You can tell me. What’s going on?”

  They glanced at each other. Finally, Sharen spoke. “We overheard Arie bragging to someone on her cellphone before practice on Saturday. She didn’t know we were here.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She told someone that she’d convinced Paulette to pay her off. Something about a contract.”

  I shifted, letting their words sink in. “Did you hear anything else?”

  They both shook their heads.

  “That was all we could make out,” Karen said.

  “Thanks for sharing,” I told them, mulling over what they’d said.

  I remembered that Arie had threatened to take her play elsewhere. Had Paulette paid her to ensure she wouldn’t do that? I knew Paulette was desperate to keep this production going and prove to her father she could be someone. Would she take it that far?

  I tried to put the idea out of my mind and study the script for the remaining forty-five minutes until practice started.

  But I also stored away the information about the gym door. Was that how someone was getting in and out?

  Twenty minutes later, Paulette walked into the auditorium and cast a faint smile my way. “Hey, Gabby.”

  “Paulette, I need to talk to you,” I whispered.

  “What’s going on?” She set her purse to the floor and swiped a hair behind her ear.

  “Did you pay off Arie?” I watched her face closely.

  Part of her lip pulled down in a frown. “What … what do you mean?”

  “I mean, did you give her hush money?”

  Paulette looked away. “I simply decided to give her a bonus royalty for letting us use her work.”

  “Why would you do that?” I tried to keep my voice quiet but it rose in volume anyway.

  “She was going to pull out! I had to do something.” Panic built in Paulette’s voice as well.

  “She was under contract. She couldn’t pull out!”

  “She said she had ways out of it.”

  “Paulette, it’s like you said when we were talking about Roberto at your house. If your dad knows anything, it’s contracts. I’m sure whatever Arie signed was iron clad.”

  She sighed. “I just couldn’t risk it. I figured if a little more cash would make her feel better, then it was worth it.”

  At the moment, I wanted to shake my friend. “How much did you pay her?”

  “Ten thousand.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Are you crazy?”

  She raised her tiny chin. “I did what I had to do.”

  “What about your bills? Aren’t you overdue on some of them?”

  She stared at me a moment, an unknown emotion flashing in her eyes. “How do you know that?”

  “I went into your office looking for you. You left a ‘Past Due’ notice on your desk.”

  “My manager here quit. I’ve been trying to juggle a lot. I didn’t know what else to do.” She sat down hard and buried her face in her hands. “I’m going to blow this, aren’t I?”

  I sat down beside her, trying to put all my suspicions about Paulette out of my mind. I patted her back. “You’re not going to blow this.”

  “Everything is falling apart, Gabby.”

  My phone buzzed. I wanted to ignore it, but I knew by the double vibration that I’d just gotten a text. Since Paulette’s face was still buried and she couldn’t see anything, I slowly pulled my phone from my back pocket. I glanced at the screen. The text was from Clarice.

  “I’m still not speaking to you. But I can’t resist solving a mystery either. Follow this link and watch the video. I knew I recognized that tune from somewhere.”

  I looked at Paulette. “I think we need to go to your office.”

  ***

  “I don’t understand,” Paulette muttered.

  She’s said that ten times already. Her eyes were fixated on the computer screen.

  I put my hand on her shoulder. “It’s clear, isn’t it? Arie stole this script from someone else.” The wretchedly awful script. Why hadn’t she at least picked a good one to rip off?

  “How could she do this? Can things get any worse?”

  I’d learned not to ask that question because things could always get worse. Silence fell between us, so I continued watching the video link that Clarice had sent me. It was for this web-based reality show that was looking for the next great American musical.

  A woman named Harlot Jenkins had written a play called The Specter but had been voted out before getting to finals. The music and storyline weren’t exactly like Arie’s play, but they were close enough.

  Harlot may not have been the brightest bulb in the socket because she’d actually posted the play online in hopes of selling it. As a result, anyone could read it or claim it as their own.

  So, Arie had been that person. She’d seen the musical and, like a predator, she’d seized the opportunity. Maybe she’d even scoured local theaters, looking specifically for one with a history. Oceanside Middle and Rose Hines were perfect. That still wouldn’t explain the murders, though.

  “We’ve got to talk to Arie.”

  “No!” Paulette popped out of her seat. “Not now. Wait until after the play. Please.”

  “If Harlot Jenkins finds out we’re doing her play, we’re going to be in serious trouble.” And by we’re, I meant Paulette. I didn’t say that, though.

  “I can’t believe she would do this to me.” Paulette buried her face in her hands. “How could she?”

  “I can’t help but wonder if this all ties in with everything that’s happened here with the musical, Paulette. I’m still trying to sort out the details, but there could be something there. I just need more time.”

  Paulette grabbed my arm, her gaze pleading. “We’ve got to get to practice, but promise me you won’t say anything yet. Give me a day, at least, to figure out what to do.”

  I stared at my friend a moment before nodding. “Okay. One day. Then no promises after that.”

  Even as I said the words, I regretted them.

  CHAPTER 29

  As soon as the lights came up on Act Two, the auditorium went black.

  Again.

  Everyone screamed around me, a familiar sense of panic filling the air, but I didn’t feel fear. No, I felt annoyed.

  Why did this keep happening?

  “Everyone, calm down!” I yelled from center stage. Though no one could see me, I put my hands on my hips and firmly planted my feet. It was a power stance, one I’d learned from Wonder Woman, for that matter.

  Suddenly, it got quiet. I couldn’t believe my order had worked.

  “Everyone stay where you are. I’m going to get to the bottom of this, once and for all.” I sounded brave, at least. I made my way off the stage, careful not to step off the edge. The last thing we ne
eded was another casualty. The last thing I wanted was to be that casualty.

  “Watch out for Rose,” someone said.

  I couldn’t make out the voice, but I ignored it. It wasn’t worth the energy.

  “Where’s the electrical panel?” I asked.

  Just then, the lights flickered and finally turned on. A cool breeze swept over the stage at the same time.

  Bennie screamed and grabbed Jerome’s arm. “What was that?”

  “The heat came on,” I explained. “There’s always a burst of cold air before it gets warm. Typical for old buildings like this.”

  Silence fell and I could feel everyone’s gaze on me.

  “The panel is in the office,” Paulette said.

  I nodded and made my way there. The longer this case went on, the more irritated I felt. Why did someone keep pushing this? What was his or her purpose?

  I found the panel in the office and studied the breakers. After a few minutes, I shook my head. I had no idea what to make of all this.

  I decided to swallow my pride. I called Braxton, who had a background as an electrician’s apprentice. He wasn’t an expert, but he knew enough.

  “What’s going on, Gabby?” He sounded matter-of-fact without a hint of warmth in his voice.

  That pretty much summed up our relationship.

  “I have a question for you. The lights keep going out at the school where I’m working. Any idea why?”

  “Bad wiring?”

  “Why does it only happen every so often?”

  “What are the common elements?

  I ran through it in my mind. “I suppose it could be because of the spotlights.”

  “They suck up a ton of power. In an old building, that could very well be a factor. There you have it. There’s your answer.” He sounded like he just wanted to get off the phone.

  “So, the power goes out because too much power is being used on one circuit,” I clarified.

  “Right, like when you vacuum and run the dishwasher at the same time.”

  “But to fix that, wouldn’t you have to flip the breaker?”

  “Makes sense to me, Brainiac.” His voice dripped with derision.

  “You really—” I stopped myself before my aggravation got the best of me.