by K M Morgan
“You’re going to have to accept it,” Penelope said.
Montgomery shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
Edgar, the short-haired man, spoke up. “You can’t stop us from being together.”
“That’s what you think,” Montgomery said.
“Father, will you please just listen to reason? Edgar is the love of my life,” Penelope said.
“Let’s see how much you really love him,” Montgomery said.
Penelope’s nose scrunched. “What are you talking about?”
“Do you love him enough to give up your inheritance to be with him?” Montgomery asked.
“Are you threatening me?” Penelope said.
Montgomery shook his head. “No. I’m giving you a choice. You need to choose what’s more important to you—him, or your inheritance.”
“I can’t believe this,” Penelope said.
“Believe it or not, it’s happening,” Montgomery said.
Penelope turned to Connie. “Mother, do something.”
Connie opened her mouth to speak, but Montgomery cut in.
“Your mother can’t say anything to change my mind. This is how it’s going to be. If you don’t like it, it’s tough,” Montgomery said.
Penelope stared daggers into her father’s eyes.
Connie tried to diffuse the tension. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we all get some fresh air? I’ll bet if we step back for a moment, cooler heads will prevail.”
“You do whatever you want. I need to take a trip to the restroom.” Montgomery got up and headed backstage.
Edgar also got up from the table, but he headed toward the entrance of the theater.
Penelope went after him.
They both left the theater.
Connie, meanwhile, was left alone on the dining room stage. She took a deep breath. “I need to get some air.”
Connie got up from her chair and headed toward a side door which was located to the left of the table that Daisy was sitting at.
Connie opened the door and went outside the theater.
From there, the lights went down in the entire theater.
Chapter Four
About thirty seconds later, the lights went up in the theater again.
When they did, all three sets were empty.
Montgomery then emerged from backstage and walked over to the dining room set.
“Where is everyone?” he said.
He grabbed his glass and took a sip of his drink.
A few seconds later, he dropped his glass and fell on the ground, where he remained motionless for a good thirty seconds.
Teresa then emerged from backstage, entered the dining room, and spotted Montgomery on the floor.
“Mr. Weatherly,” she said.
Teresa rushed over to Montgomery.
She called out to him once more. “Mr. Weatherly.”
For the second time, she did not receive a response.
She checked his pulse.
Her eyes widened.
Teresa screamed with terror.
One by one, Connie, Penelope, Edgar, and Wallace all rushed toward the dining room set.
Connie was the first to arrive. “What is it, Teresa?”
Teresa opened her mouth, but her tongue was tied.
Connie stared at Montgomery’s body on the ground.
“Is he…?” She couldn’t finish her sentence.
Teresa managed to untie her tongue. “He’s dead.”
By then, Penelope, Edgar, and Wallace had all joined her on the set. Everyone gasped.
Connie turned to her daughter.
“Honey, call the police,” Connie said.
Penelope reached into her purse and grabbed her phone.
The lights went down in the theater again.
***
A few seconds later, the lights went up again.
Right then, most of the crowd was focused on Weatherly’s body.
Not Gavin. He stared at Daisy, who was breathing heavily in her seat.
He put his hand on her shoulder. “Daisy, calm down.”
She did just the opposite, nearly jumping out of her seat. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“I’m sorry. I was just trying to make you feel better.”
“That’s going to be difficult to do now.”
“Look. I know you’re on edge, but you should really try to relax.”
“Are we watching the same thing?”
“This is all just part of the show,” he said.
“Or so it seems,” she replied. “Who knows what’s going to happen next?”
Just then, there was a knock at the front entrance of the theater.
Chapter Five
Wallace walked toward the front of the theater and opened the door.
Daisy turned around in her seat. She saw a rotund, balding, forty-seven-year-old man in a trench coat standing in the front doorway, showing Wallace a police badge.
Connie called out to Wallace. “Who is at the door?”
“It’s the police,” Wallace replied. He turned to the man in the trench coat. “Detective, please come right in.”
“Where’s the victim?” the detective asked.
Wallace began walking toward the dining room set. “This way.”
The detective stopped in the middle of the theater and addressed everyone in the audience.
“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Detective Eric Shore. I will be handling this case,” the man said. “Now, there is a lot to be done if I’m going to sniff out the killer. So let’s get to work.”
Detective Shore made his way to the dining room set, where Montgomery’s body was still on the ground.
Shore looked Montgomery up and down, and then addressed his fellow actors.
“Who is the one who found the body again?” Detective Shore asked.
Teresa put her hand up. “I did.”
“Please walk me through what happened,” Detective Shore said.
“I came into the dining room and saw Mr. Weatherly at the ground, motionless. I rushed over to check up on him, but he was already dead.”
Detective Shore scratched his chin. “All right.”
Shore crouched down and stared intensely at the glass that was beside Montgomery’s body. The detective pulled out a pair of gloves from his coat, put them on, lifted the glass, and sniffed it. His eyes widened.
“Interesting,” Shore said.
“What is?” Connie asked.
“There’s a very distinct odor coming from the glass,” Detective Shore said.
“What kind of odor?” Connie asked.
“The worst kind,” Shore said. “Poison.”
Connie gasped. “Poison?”
Detective Shore nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
“Wait a minute. Are you telling me that someone poisoned my husband?” Connie asked.
Shore nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“How awful,” Connie said.
Shore held his pointer finger up. “That’s not all.”
“What do you mean?” Connie said.
“I believe the killer is here in this room,” Shore said.
Everyone on the set gave each other awkward glances.
“Are you serious?” Connie asked.
Shore nodded. “Deadly serious. That’s why none of you are to leave until I say so. Got it?”
Everyone looked tense.
Shore continued. “Now, I want you to all line up. I have some questions to ask each of you.”
Chapter Six
Penelope, Teresa, Connie, Edgar, and Wallace all lined up in a row.
Detective Shore stood in front of them and addressed the crowd of theatergoers.
“Who do you think I should speak with first?” Shore asked.
Annette Grace, a middle-aged, female audience member, spoke up. “Teresa.”
“Teresa it is,” Shore said. The detective turned around and stared at Teresa. “Will you please c
ome here?”
Teresa approached Shore.
The detective turned to the audience once again for help. “What do you think I should ask her?”
Derek Morris, a goateed, thirty-eight-year-old audience member, called out. “Where were you when the lights went out in the theater?”
“Teresa, will you please answer the man?” Detective Shore said.
“I was in the kitchen,” Teresa replied.
“Were you alone?” Shore said.
“Yes. Why does that matter?” Teresa said.
“Because it means you have no one to verify your alibi,” Shore said.
“But I didn’t do anything,” Teresa said.
“That is yet to be determined,” Shore said.
Teresa opened her mouth to reply, but Shore continued talking.
“Now get back in the lineup.”
Teresa groaned, but reluctantly followed the detective’s orders.
Detective Shore turned to the crowd again. “Who should I speak with next?”
While Shore waited for an audience member to speak up, at Daisy’s table, Gavin turned to his fiancé.
“Aren’t you going to ask any questions?” Gavin said.
Daisy shook her head. “No. I think the rest of the audience is doing fine.”
“But the whole point of the show is to participate,” Gavin said.
“So why don’t you ask some questions?” Daisy said.
“My focus is more on you right now.”
“Why?”
“I think you know why.”
“Gavin, just give me some time to ease into things, all right?” she asked.
“Are you going to be okay?”
Daisy nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
He looked at her like he wanted to keep throwing questions her way. Instead, he decided to ease up on her.
Meanwhile, the questioning of the suspects continued.
As expected, not even one of them had a verifiable alibi for when the lights went out in the theater, so none of them could be eliminated as suspects.
When the detective finished questioning the last of the suspects, he turned back to the audience.
“Wow, that’s a lot of chew on,” Detective Shore said. “Speaking of chewing, it’s hard to solve a case on an empty stomach. Which is why dinner will be served momentarily. We will get back to the investigation shortly. In the meantime, enjoy your meal.”
Chapter Seven
The suspects walked off the stage and entered the adjacent kitchen, out of view of the theatergoers. While most of the dinner guests focused their attention on the stage or the door to the kitchen, Gavin immediately turned to Daisy.
A concerned look was on Gavin’s face as he spoke with his fiancé.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Gavin asked.
“Yeah. I’ll be fine,” Daisy said.
“Which means that you aren’t fine now, right?” he said.
Daisy took a deep breath. Just as she opened her mouth to reply, Gavin blurted out another question.
“Wait a minute. You don’t still think that a real murder is going to occur at this theater tonight, do you?” he said.
“I know you just think I’m being crazy—”
Gavin shook his head. “No. That’s not it.”
“Honey, don’t lie to me. That look in your eyes is letting me know how you truly feel,” Daisy said.
“I don’t think you’re crazy. I’m just really worried about you.”
“You aren’t the only one who is worried. I wish I could just brush off these anxieties I’m having.”
“Are they just anxieties, or do you have a bad feeling in your gut as well?”
“I certainly don’t have a good feeling, that’s for sure.”
“How bad are we talking here? Are your instincts telling you that murder is definitely on the menu?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Of course. When isn’t life complicated in Cozy Creek?”
“Things are especially confusing right now because we’re watching a murder mystery performance. I mean, it’s hard to tell how much of this is just an act.”
“Have you ruled out the possibility that this is all an act? That maybe you’re just anxious because this theater company is just doing a really good job at selling their performances?”
“You do think I’m crazy then, don’t you?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Not aloud, at least. But it doesn’t mean you aren’t thinking it.”
“Look. After all the cases you have investigated in the last few years, I can see why you might feel a little uneasy right now,” Gavin replied. “That said, I think you might be overreacting a bit when it comes to this show. Remember, this is just dinner theater.”
“I get what you’re saying. That it’s just a show. That I should have fun,” Daisy said. “Look. I’m trying my best here.”
“Honey, do you have any idea what the odds are of a real murder taking place here?”
“The odds were low of a murder occurring at a law office too, but one happened there. Same with that film set I worked on. And at that real estate company. And—”
Gavin cut in. “You don’t have to list them all off.”
“Yes I do,” Daisy said. “I really do. Because there have just been so many murders in this town over the last few years.”
“It doesn’t mean that one is going to take place tonight.”
“True,” Daisy said. She took a deep breath.
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll order you a drink. That should help loosen you up a little.”
***
Gavin was right about one thing. The drink did manage to settle Daisy’s nerves somewhat.
At least, until she spotted something curious out the corner of her eye.
Daisy almost did a double-take when she saw Detective Chris Crumple just inside the entrance of the theater.
Unlike Detective Shore, who was just a fictional character played by an actor, Crumple was a real-life detective in town. So naturally, Daisy’s nerves acted up on her when she spotted him.
Her eyes widened. “No way.”
Gavin’s forehead wrinkled. “Daisy, what’s going on?”
She pointed at Crumple.
Gavin turned his attention to the entrance of the theater. “What’s the detective doing here?”
“I don’t know. But I’m going to find out,” Daisy said.
Chapter Eight
Daisy got up from her chair and approached Crumple, who stood in the corner.
The detective was wide-eyed when he spotted her. “Daisy McDare? What are you doing here? Don’t you do enough investigating in your daily life without coming here on your free time?”
Daisy ignored Crumple’s questions in favor of her own. “Are you working on a case?”
Crumple was taken aback by Daisy forgoing small talk.
“So much for pleasantries,” Crumple joked. “Why not just get straight to the point?”
“Sorry. I’m just kind of on edge right now—”
He interrupted her. “Why? You’re out at the theater. You should be enjoying yourself.”
“I’d love to do that, but first, I need you to answer my question. Are you here working on a case?”
He shook his head. “No. Why would you think that?”
Daisy’s nose scrunched. “If you’re not here about a case then what are you doing here?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but the theater company has been performing the same exact show for years. They are looking to change things up a little by trying out a new case. So they decided to bring me on as a freelance consultant to make the fictional investigation look as real as possible.”
“Are you serious?”
“Why do you sound so surprised. I’m a police detective. Who better than to devise a great murder-mystery plot?”
“So there’s no actual murder that you’re investigating?” Daisy said.
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Crumple scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He stared deep into her eyes. “Are you okay?”
She took a deep breath. “I’m a little better now.”
“I never thought I’d say this, but you’re even more uptight than usual. Relax, McDare. You’re supposed to be having fun.”
“I’m trying,” she said.
Crumple could still see the tension on Daisy’s face.
“Try harder,” he said.
Chapter Nine
When Daisy returned to her table, dinner had been served. Everyone at her table was eating except Gavin, who looked at her with great curiosity.
“What’s the deal?” Gavin asked.
“Crumple is just here as a creative consultant,” Daisy said.
“Oh. Okay,” Gavin said. “So that should make you feel better.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You don’t feel better, do you?”
She shook her head. “Not especially.”
“Do you want to leave?” Gavin asked.
Daisy shook her head. “No.”
“Are you sure? Because I can take you home right now.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Daisy, I think you should reconsider—”
She interrupted him. “No. We’re already here. They are serving dinner. Let’s stay.”
“But if you’re not having fun—”
“I already said that I don’t want to go,” Daisy replied.
“All right. I’m just looking out for you.”
“I understand. And thank you for that. But I’m staying here.”
Gavin’s forehead wrinkled. “If you don’t mind me, asking, why? I mean, you’re clearly not enjoying this.”
“I just need to relax a little and settle in. That’s all,” she said.
It was hard for Daisy to hide things from Gavin. Even more so when he looked deep into her eyes, which he did right then. Suddenly, it became clear to him that there was more to her story.
