Fade to Black

by Molly Kate Gray

  “And that is?”

  Rory shifted in her seat, and Otis gave up the attempt to sit on her lap. She pulled both knees to her chin in an attempt to seem unconcerned about the next part of the story. “They’d all been arrested for something. They’d made a deal with someone at the department to keep it off their record. Based on the e-mails and text messages we’ve been able to recover, just when they’ve discovered who the dealer is on campus, they’ve died.”

  “Before they passed along their information.”

  “That’s what we’re assuming. Whoever they’re working with is good. Disposable cell phones. Dummy e-mail accounts. There’s no trace of the officer within the department.”

  “Someone in the department is dirty?”

  “That’s our current theory.”

  “And they brought you in to find them.” Rory nodded slowly, avoiding his eyes as the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “You’re here to draw out the person who has been killing the informants.” His voice shook with a combination of shock and blind rage. “They’re using you as bait.”

  A hint of fear was evident in her soulful eyes. “Yeah.” She swallowed thickly. The only sound in the room was the heater humming in the background. If not for the look on Rory’s face, Zach would have been certain the painkillers had caused him to fall asleep and dream this last part of the conversation. But even in his wildest dreams, he wouldn’t have been able to come up with this.

  Rory was the bait?

  The state task force and the Peytonville Police Department were offering up the woman sitting in his living room to whoever was killing off informants. “And how do you know you won’t end up like the rest of them?”

  Rory shook her head and kept her eyes fixed on the floor. Her teeth pulled her lower lip into her mouth and her lip whitened under the pressure. “I don’t.” She gazed earnestly at him. “But I owe it to Quinn.”

  “Like hell you do!” Zach shot to his feet just as Rory’s cell phone began to ring. She picked it up and glared at the screen.

  “Crap!” She answered the call. “I’m so sorry. Yes, I had it on my calendar. I know it’s important to have the whole cast there. I … I just forgot. Just go on without me.” She pocketed her phone and frowned. “I’ve gotta go. I can’t believe I missed rehearsal.”

  Leaving him standing in the middle of the room, still trying to process what he’d been told, Rory scampered out of the doorway.

  Chapter Nine

  “You’re late.” Gabriel Figueroa looked up from his position at the lectern as Rory rushed into the room. The rest of the cast for was assembled haphazardly around the room. The collection of empty water bottles and wadded up bags of chips told the rest of the story. Rory was very late.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I drove my roommate to the hospital last night.”

  “Is Allie okay?” Justin looked up from his script in alarm.

  Rory nodded as she tugged her script from her messenger bag. “Her mom’s a police officer. There was a shooting overnight.”

  “Oooh — I remember! Is her mom okay?” A girl Rory recognized from her set construction class chewed the end of her pencil as she stared curiously at Rory.

  “Her mom’s fine. I was just out late.”

  Gabriel tapped the edge of the metal lectern with his pen. “Y’all done catching up? Can we move on with the notes?”

  “Sure.” Rory gave a sheepish grin. She definitely didn’t have to act this part. She couldn’t afford to get thrown out of the play, since she needed the close contact with the two faculty members.

  “We’re on page 28.” Justin leaned over and whispered as he pointed to the page in his own script.

  “Thanks.” Rory whispered in return, drawing a glare from Gabriel. He was one of those grad students. Give him a title and suddenly he was going to prove who was in charge.

  “Miss Johnston, I think we’ll need to chat after rehearsal.”

  “Yes, sir.” She flipped through her script and chuckled to herself. She wasn’t even in this act. Well, it gave her plenty of time to think about her conversation with Zach that morning, and getting called away, gave her a legitimate excuse to leave before the facts of the case sunk in any further.

  Taking this case meant Rory had very likely signed her own death sentence. And she was okay with that. She owed that much to Quinn. By wearing a wire, and informing Christian — Zach, she mentally corrected herself — of whom she was with, she increased her likelihood of staying alive. But she went into the case with both eyes wide open. If the killer wanted to silence her, then there was very little she could do to prevent it.

  • • •

  “You knew?” Zach’s entrance into the room was diluted by the mechanical self-closing door. He wanted to slam the door behind him, but instead, the door hissed softly closed behind him. Probably just as well — he didn’t want to get thrown out of the hospital before he’d had a chance to chew his partner out.

  “So she talked with you. I wasn’t sure if she was going to do it.” Christian’s chuckled to himself as he adjusted his position on the pillow, sliding up until his head brushed the top of the edge of the bed. Wincing, he took a deep breath before looking back over to Zach.

  “Damn right, she told me. I fucking can’t believe you’d go along with this.”

  “I think they can hear you in the hall.”

  “I don’t give a shit.” Even Zach was surprised at the intensity of his response. Rory was Christian’s sister. Shouldn’t their roles be reversed right now? Shouldn’t he be the one trying to calm Rory’s irate brother down? Zach didn’t want to admit the reason behind his emotional response.

  “You like my sister.”

  “She’s a good partner.”

  Christian grinned like an eight year old with a secret. Clearly, he was still under the influence of the pain medicine. “You like Rory.”

  Zach didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. They’d worked with each other long enough that they could read each other without any effort.

  “Good.” Christian’s voice was steady and all traces of amusement had disappeared from his face. “That means you’ll keep her alive.”

  • • •

  “He’s not as bad as he seems.” Justin paused next to Rory as she stood in the hallway outside the theater office. Photographs of the casts of plays gone by lined the wall. Justin flicked a finger and tapped one just above Rory’s eye level.

  “You’re just saying that because he’s a frat brother.”

  “Nope. Not because of that.”

  Rory countered by raising an eyebrow.

  “Well, maybe that too. But he was once just like us.” A younger version of Gabriel grinned out from behind oversized glasses.

  “Was he playing some kind of nerd?”

  “Sadly, no.” Justin folded his hands in front of himself and gave the appearance of someone in mourning.

  “Oh.” Rory flinched as she looked more closely at the picture. She caught sight of another familiar face in the photograph. Quinn. Standing off to the side, in the all-black customary for stage crew, her sister stood next to two girls Rory didn’t know. Quinn was in a theater production? Her sister never told her about that, and she was certain that piece of information wasn’t in her file.

  “So, Jocelyn and I were going out tonight. You want to come?”

  “Disco bowling!” The girl from Rory’s set production class grasped hold of Justin’s bicep and grinned gleefully. “Have you been to Kinkaid’s Place?”

  “Can’t say that I have.”

  “You should come. It’ll be fun.” Two more participants in the play joined them in the hall.

  “I don’t think so. I’m really not feeling too great.” She didn’t have to act as she winced when she swallowed. She wrapped her jacket more t
ightly around herself. Was it unusually cold in the building? Disco bowling was probably exactly where she needed to be, but this afternoon, she was catching someone’s cold. Sharing illness with her dorm-mates was her least-favorite part of masquerading as a college student.

  “She’s going to have to take a rain check on that.” Gabriel stepped out of his office with a clipboard tucked under his arm. Without saying a word, his face clearly gave the command — leave us alone.

  “Next time.” Rory half-waved at the group.

  “So.” He folded his arms and held his clipboard in front of him like a shield. “Any idea why I wanted to meet with you?”

  “I was late.”

  “And one of the members of the tech crew had to be your understudy. She was good.”

  Rory flinched. She had a good idea of where this conversation was headed.

  “Can you tell me any reason why you should keep your part?”

  “Because I’m better.” Rory didn’t blink as she stared him down. She’d worked with tough directors before. Gabriel had nothing on some of the professionals she’d worked with in the past.

  “Are you?” He smiled indulgently at her.

  “Definitely.” Dr. Maxwell had cast the play. He’d given her the part for a reason. Now, Gabriel was enjoying the authority he had over her. “It’s my part.”

  “And if you want to keep it, you’ll go to dinner with me tonight.”

  “I’m really not feeling well. I should probably just go back to my dorm and go to bed.” Rory crossed her arms in front of her chest. The casting couch was the stuff of rumors — as old as movies themselves. But she was well aware that some directors still tried to take advantage of naïve wanna-be starlets. She didn’t want the part that badly.

  “Just dinner. You’ll have plenty of time to drop by the health center later — if you’re really not feeling well. I’d like to talk.” Gabriel nodded humbly. “You’re new here. I want to get to know you. You’ve been late to rehearsals three times now — not exactly the way to make me radiate with confidence.”

  “Dinner?”

  “Tonight.” He nodded again. “I’ll meet you at Twisted Noodles at six.” He smirked. “Wear the outfit you wore to the Old Mill.”

  Sure it was just a time to chat. Rory leaned back and thudded her head against the wall as the grad student from hell walked away. At least they were going to one of the most popular restaurants around town. She’d already eaten there twice — once with Justin and once with Preston. It was quiet and a little on the dark side. But, since it was a restaurant popular with a lot of the local families, she shouldn’t have to work too hard to keep his hands in sight.

  Ordinarily, she’d be thrilled that contact with a suspect dropped into her lap, but she was working off less than two hours sleep. She’d been hoping to take a hot shower and go to bed early tonight.

  Rory blinked at the picture closest to the door to the black box. Another of the students who died of an overdose was sitting in the front row of a cast photograph. She examined each of them in turn. One by one, she ticked off each student who’d died.

  She found the connection.

  No longer tired, she jogged out of the theater and practically began sprinting to her dorm room. Blind luck had her enroll as a theater major. She could have chosen any of the dead students’ specializations. She’d picked theater because it was familiar — and she missed being on stage.

  And it just might have broken the case wide open.

  • • •

  “So, what’s your favorite show?” Gabriel tapped his fork against the chipped china plate as he waited for Rory’s answer. Zach reached for the volume control and turned down the receiver before the high-pitched clinking permanently damaged his hearing. Not for the first time that evening, he wished Rory would say the code phrase so he could go in and break up the dinner before someone died — of boredom. Taking a drink of his now-cold coffee, he rubbed his eyes to try to force himself to wake up.

  He’d used all his typical stakeout tricks, but he was still seconds from falling asleep. Digging through the center console of the car, he finally struck victory. Chewing gum. Popping two pieces of cinnamon gum at the same time, he chomped down vigorously. He had to hand it to Rory. Either she was good at thinking on her feet or she’d done an exceptional job of creating a history for Rory Johnston.

  Zach ran his fingers through his hair as he glanced down at his notes. How much of it was true?

  During tonight’s dinner, Gabriel had asked about her high school, pets she had growing up, her first date, and what her parents did for a living. And that was all before they’d gotten their menus. Now, Rory and Gabriel had almost finished eating. He now knew Rory’s favorite book growing up, why she got into theater, and which president she’d most like to meet.

  She’d reluctantly asked him if he was up to being her back-up tonight. Since she’d discovered the connection between the dead students, she couldn’t go on the date without an officer covering for her. He’d consented without hesitation, but now his side was throbbing from sitting up in the cramped car for over an hour and a half.

  Rory swallowed a mouthful of lasagna. “It’s a tie.” She picked up her napkin and wiped the corner of her mouth. “Wicked or Les Mis.”

  Gabriel shook his head. “Those are pretty safe choices.”

  Rory shrugged and waved a hand apologetically. “I guess I’m a pretty safe girl.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Gabriel hunched over the table, clasping his hands beneath his chest. He spoke in an almost threatening whisper. “You don’t strike me as safe at all.”

  Rory stiffened and sat up straighter in her seat. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

  “Depends.” He reached across the table for her hand and covered it with his own. Stroking her wrist with his thumb, he stared at her without speaking.

  Rory shifted in her seat, but didn’t immediately pull her hand away. She folded her napkin and tossed it on top of her plate, clearly signaling she was finished with dinner.

  “What was your favorite television show when you were little?”

  “Wishbone.” Rory laughed and slid her hand out from beneath Gabriel’s. She didn’t bat an eye, but Zach could tell the question bothered her. “Are we playing twenty questions? I thought you were trying to decide if I was right for the part.”

  Twenty questions? Zach looked back down at his notes. “What was your favorite television show when you were little?” Gabriel had already asked that question. Twice. He scanned the list and noticed three other questions the graduate student had repeated. He was trying to trip her up. Why?

  “Are you tired of my company already?”

  “I just have a lot of homework. I wasn’t planning to be out late.”

  Gabriel spun his arm and looked at his watch. “It isn’t even eight.”

  Rory turned and looked over her shoulder. “But there’s a long wait for a table. We’ve been here almost two hours. Maybe we should leave.”

  Even through the black and gray screen, Zach could see the flush of anger rise in Gabriel’s cheeks. “Maybe so.” He signaled to the waiter. “We’ll take separate checks.”

  • • •

  “Separate checks.” Rory stormed up the stairwell — too annoyed to wait on the elevator with its mob of excited upperclassmen ready for a smoking hot Saturday night. After wading through the most boring date in the history of her career, at least he could have picked up the check.

  At least it wasn’t a real date. She took hold of the railing and pulled herself onto the fifth flight of stairs. Thinking back to her conversation with Zach, she realized her words were true. She’d never actually had a real date. Every time she’d been out with a guy, it was in the hope of gaining some information.

  One of her professors once told the class t
hat humans were a predatory species. She chuckled to herself. He was obviously right, or at least he was where she was concerned.

  Taking the last two stories’ worth of stairs at a jog, she forced herself to look on the bright side of the situation. She may not have been able to salvage her part in the play, but the evening ended so early, she would get the hot shower she’d been wanting so badly.

  Her hand connected with the stairwell exit, and the pounding pulse of the local top 20 station echoing down the hall immediately greeted her. Unusually loud, even for one of the residents of her dorm, the rhythm of the music vibrated through the carpet and she could feel it in the soles of her feet.

  “Do you think it would be too much trouble for you to turn your music down just a touch?” Hallie stepped to her open doorway like a cat ready to pounce as Rory walked past in the hall.

  “Since it’s obviously my music.” Rory rolled her eyes and spoke slowly, as if she were speaking with a seven year old.

  “But it is.” Hallie looked down her nose as she glared at the member of the lower class. She always gave off the impression that she wondered whom Rory must have slept with to get access to the seventh floor of the dorm.

  “Can’t be. Allie’s not home.” She pulled her purse onto her hip and began her expected battle with the zipper. In her haste to leave the memory of the restaurant behind, she’d caught a section of fabric in the zipper’s tread. Now, she was stuck in the hall with Hallie until she could convince the bag to open. Her phone buzzed — again, and she ignored it.

  “Then your room’s haunted.” Hallie walked alongside Rory down the hall and the pair turned the corner in unison. She pointed to the door to room 718, currently decorated with a rainbow of post-it notes, most of which were covered with messages about the need to turn the music down.

  “Okay. I’ve been gone.”

  “Dinner with Gabriel.” Hallie nodded her head with a jerk. “Nothing gets past me.”