Murder, Most Sincerely: A Romantic Backstage Mystery

by Nault, Beverly

  Kneeling, he scruffed the dog’s neck. Cade’s glance met hers briefly. “You’re quite welcome, I’m glad it worked out as well. But I’m still a bit hesitant…”

  “To what?”

  “Until we know what caused her to be so ill, I’m not sure about letting her go home with you.”

  Lucy’s spine bristled. “You’re suggesting I put her in harm’s way.”

  Lips a thin line, Cade’s gaze wandered from the dog to her face again. “My first priority is to my patients. If I think they’re in danger, what kind of doctor would I be—”

  “Of course you’re right.” She could feel Penny’s little heart beating under her thin fur. “I’m pretty defensive about everything these days.” The dog still in her arms, she pulled herself up. “What are you going to do with all these empty boxes? You expect a lot of sick dogs?” Besides Penny’s enclosure, there were at least ten more pens and runs of various sizes.

  “These,” Cade spoke with a tinge of pride, “are whelping boxes. He stopped in front of one that had a box with low sides built into one corner.

  She looked into the empty run. “You going to breed more little Harrys?”

  He chuckled. “We’ll have to call him Uncle Harry, if you know what I mean. My plan is to develop a breed of dog specifically for the requirements and stamina to deal with the challenges of an individual PTSD. I want to fine tune the DNA, combining parents with a proven temperament for service dogs.” He ran a hand down Penny’s back. “Assistance dogs for wounded warriors can be a crapshoot. Rescued dogs often work well, but we’re finding that the larger, calm dogs are often the best. But it’s still early in my research. Harry’s a Rottweiler I had arranged for…”

  “For what?” Lucy cradled Penny to her chest.

  Cade said softly. “My brother…”

  To fill the sudden silence, Lucy asked after his family. “Does your brother live around here?”

  “No.” Cade’s Adam’s apple rose and fell as he composed himself. “He came home from his second deployment shattered. And about a year later he…” Cade turned away.

  Lucy felt his grief telegraph. “I’m so sorry. Harry was training for him?”

  “It was too late for him, it wasn’t Harry’s fault. But I want to do what I can for the others like him. The right dog can reach inside a person and fill a void, you know? With the right training and if they have the correct temperament, with their nonjudgmental love and devotion they can save lives.”

  Her cheek resting on Penny’s bony head, Lucy realized she was beginning to understand this man along with his passion. “I heard a saying once. Our pets are God’s hugs wrapped in fur.”

  The comment spun a dial and he turned a beaming smile at her. “You understand. I think that’s why I wanted to be a vet. They need someone advocating for them, and I can put my knowledge to good use breeding better dogs, right now a lot of it is a real gamble.” Clearing his throat, Cade’s voice belied his concern. “I still have a lot of work to do, and I need to hire an overseer. That’s what the small building behind my well house is for. Already furnished. But interviewing and researching breeds—”

  “And running a veterinary practice,” she added.

  “Yep. All these things take time.”

  She knew what it was like to have such a passion, and enjoyed watching him describe his.

  He laughed. “Stop me or I’ll go on and on. It’s getting late, and I promised you a breakfast ride.” He took Penny and set her down in the run. They watched her climb onto a pile of blankets, circle, and flop down. “Unless you’re not up to it.”

  “No, I’d love to go out, I could use a change of scenery after being stuck inside the dark theater for weeks.”

  “Great! We’ll be back in a couple of hours, old girl.” Cade’s gentle manner with the dog warmed Lucy’s heart as she followed him to the barn where two horses waited, already saddled. “Why the boards?”

  “For wheelchairs or someone getting used to walking with a prosthesis.” Cade tightened their girths, and offered Lucy a helmet. “You have any experience, or do you need a lesson first?”

  “It’s been a few years, but I rode at my grandpa’s every summer.” Lucy clicked the chinstrap, then lifted her foot to a stirrup, and pulled up while he held the bridle of a stocky gray gelding. “He was a ranch manager near Tucson. Always owned at least one or two cow ponies even after he retired. My dad followed in his footsteps for a while but the place where he worked was sold to a big corporation and he was let go, so he took up bookkeeping.”

  Astride a wiry Appaloosa, Cade rode ahead, leading the way up a trail past the barns, over a knoll and into some thick chaparral. The horses settled into the rhythm of the trail, walking nose to tail as the path narrowed between cacti preparing to bloom. A red tailed hawk caught a thermal overhead, and Lucy allowed herself to relax and enjoy the ride.

  Cade reined left, and her horse followed his until they approached an outbuilding on the side of a ridge, partially shaded by a graceful sycamore. From their vantage point, a handful of hot air balloons hovered at just about eye level. They were descending into a verdant valley of grapevines and orange groves. Instead of admiring their colorful beauty, though, the balloons only reminded her of the tragedy that her poorly rigged balloon had caused a man’s death.

  “This lovely spot is courtesy of my grandfather.” Cade swung down and held her horse’s bridle so she could dismount. “He loved to sit here and admire ‘Old Greyback.’” She followed his gaze to a distant snow-covered peak. “What locals call San Gorgonio Mountain. Now, if you’ll hold onto this, I’ll let these guys loose.” He handed her the backpack and led the horses to a small pen, removed their saddles and bridles, and hung them on the fence. Her mount promptly laid down to roll, then scrambled up, shook himself, hair and dust flying.

  “This is wonderful, is it a bunkhouse?” Lucy followed Cade to the small dirt yard in front of the adobe structure.

  “It’s been used for many things over the years. Wait a sec, I’ll get us some chairs.” He went inside the small building and she turned her face to the sun, letting its warmth enfold her, the ocean breeze from beyond the mountain ridge was cool, refreshing. “I used to stay up here when I was home from break,” Cade said, a folding beach chair under each arm. “Spent many hours studying while my friends were surfing, or partying in Cabo.”

  “You’ve made lots of sacrifices, and you’re willing to make more to give back, that’s admirable.”

  “I’m trying.” Settled into their chairs, he took the backpack from her and zipped it open. “Tell me about how you came to be involved in theater. Was it a girl-hood dream?”

  Lucy recounted for him how her mom had taken her to live theater productions in Phoenix before she died, and then when she died so abruptly, the only solace Lucy could find was in listening to soundtracks of musicals while she waited for her dad to get home from work. “After high school I kind of floated around, unsure of what I wanted to do until I took a class in stagecraft. My dad didn’t want me to, he said it would never make me a living, always going from one gig to the next. He said he’d support me in something more…suitable. But as soon as I got my associate’s degree, I found this job and moved here. He hasn’t really forgiven me. I guess he was right.”

  She shut her mouth. Unbelievable. Practically a stranger, and she was telling Cade everything she didn’t even want to admit to herself.

  But either Cade wasn’t sensitive to her turmoil, or he was the kind of person who believed in plunging ahead. He met her gaze. “I don’t think you should give up. I know the whole losing a cast member isn’t easy. The first time I lost an animal after surgery I beat myself up, but I have to go on—”

  “It’s hardly the same thing. People are not supposed to die in theater. Not for real anyway.”

  “Hold on, sorry, I didn’t mean to diminish how tragic it was. But it was an accident, and they happen everywhere, right?”

  Lucy shook her head. “It’s not
that simple. I was responsible for the rigging. I need to prove I took every safety measure, or that someone killed Ambrose on purpose.” She studied her burrito, the first bite roiled in her stomach. “Even if a jury doesn’t find me guilty of walking back there and knocking him off myself, to the theater board I might as well have. They were reluctant enough to hire me for this big a show, but I kind of came as a package with the director. And now they’ve all lost confidence in me.”

  Cade’s eyebrows rose, and he tossed the empty wrapper into the backpack.

  “When they hired him to direct, we were going out. He thought by having me as his manager, we’d make a good team, and he’s trying to break into the big time. As it turned out, I pretty much ruined both his chances and mine at the same time.”

  “Did you do something wrong? Did something distract you from your final safety check perhaps?”

  “See, that’s what I don’t understand. I’ve gone over and over it in my mind. I was obsessive about checking and rechecking the rigging before every show, but maybe since Penny was ill I was spending too much time worrying about her. But I kept a checklist I followed and initialed every day. When you do something over and over so many times you sometimes lose track of whether you’ve done it recently, so I forced myself to keep a log. After we worked out some initial problems during tech week and put extra measures in place, we never had a glitch. Until…”

  “And that’s why it’s so important to find that binder. Lucy, if you were that good at noting your procedure, then something or someone must have interfered to cause harm.” He studied her. “Can you think of someone who wanted the guy dead or pulled a prank that went horribly wrong?” Harry ran up from one of his expeditions. Cade absently rubbed his ears.

  That reminded her of the creepy gift, and she told him about the axed doll.

  “Could be a warning, or maybe just to lead the police down the wrong trail.” His suggestion was a little comforting. If someone screwed up a prank and panicked about being caught, they could be trying to frame her to save themselves from blame.

  “I still need to prove I wasn’t negligent.”

  The hawk circled, wings steady on the constant breeze. Her head was a bit more clear, and Lucy considered every cast and crew member, at least the adults, as suspects. Did Justin want her job? He had been stage manager before she arrived; maybe he was jealous she overstepped him. He seemed sincere when he’d reassured her he wasn’t mad when she got the job. But years spent working in theater she knew how someone could put on a convincing act.

  Or perhaps someone wanted Tin Man’s part? Petty actors had been known to over react, but to the point of murder? None of her thoughts made sense. But someone had tinkered with the rigging that raised and lowered the hot air balloon to transport Dorothy back to Kansas. All fingers would still point to Lucy, unless she could prove otherwise.

  The hawk swooped into a ravine, and past a woman riding alone.

  Cade waved. “That’s my neighbor Gloria Meadows. Her husband died not long ago and she may have to sell her place. Sure hope she doesn’t.”

  “How sad.”

  “She really wants to stay, but the place is too much for her to keep up alone, and a developer’s offers are tempting.”

  “What would that mean for you? Is her land close to yours?”

  “The attorneys predict the next step would be a movement to change the zoning. I wouldn’t be able to keep my land rural.”

  “Meaning…”

  “If this area’s incorporated and developed, I might not be able to keep more than a few dogs. If I’m going to expand as I’d like to, I’d have to move out further from town.” The metal chair squeaked under his shifting weight. “I already spent a lot of money fixing up the place I may never recoup.”

  “If you’re supposed to make this happen, God will see that you do.”

  “I appreciate your confidence. And faith.”

  “Tell me about your brother?”

  For several minutes, Cade reminisced, describing Cody. How even though they had different personalities, they were always best buds. “He meant the world to me. Where I was into science and biology, he was into sports and athletics. He was quarterback, and all star soccer.” Cade topped off her coffee. “But then when Cody graduated, everything kind of fell apart for him. It was like he peaked out, and never could find his way. He got in trouble with the law, and finally my dad told him if he didn’t do something to straighten himself out, he’d kick him out of the house.”

  A rabbit jumped from the shrubs, saw Harry and hopped away.

  “He joined the Army.”

  She seemed to loosen a dam that had been about to burst for too long. His shoulders shook, and she watched a cloud formation in the distance while he gathered himself.

  “I’m sorry, I invite you out to enjoy the morning and I fall apart.”

  “Never apologize for missing him. I still miss my mom and have a good old cry once in a while. But you’ve found a way to honor his memory.”

  He dashed a fist across his moist cheek. He leaned forward, gazing intently into her face. “If there’s one thing I’m convinced of, it’s that animals can reach a person,” he settled a fist over his heart,” in here where no amount of therapy can.”

  “I’ve heard about service dogs, but I thought they were just for things like leading the blind and stuff.”

  “For sure. And now for people with PTSD. The right dog can give someone who can’t go out in public a new outlook, confidence and encouragement, even hope to go on with their lives.”

  It took Lucy a moment to coax her voice past the emotion his words evoked. “I pray you can provide that for lots of soldiers.”

  As she considered the magnitude of his project for a few quiet moments, together they enjoyed the beauty of the surrounding hills. Lucy watched the cloud formation again. With a start, she realized she wasn’t seeing clouds at all. “Is that…” she pointed, coffee sloshing over the rim of her cup. “It looks like there’s a fire!”

  “That’s near my place!” Cade swung into action, at once springing toward the horse corral while looking at his cell phone. “I don’t get any service out here, can you call 9-1-1?”

  Lucy pivoted, arm raised, trying to coax enough bars to get service. “Leave my horse for me to re-tack, I can do it.”

  Cade slung the saddle onto his horse, and shot her an unsure look, but nodded and swung up. “Follow the trail back the way we came, if you can’t remember a turn, let him have his head, he’ll take you straight back to the barn.” His horse kicked up dust as they disappeared behind a stand of mountain laurel. Harry sprang up and ran after them down the side of the hill.

  Her gelding, left alone and not pleased about it, paced the enclosure, nickering his anxiety. It had been years since Lucy put a bridle and saddle on a horse, but eventually, she was able to soothe him long enough to fumble with the bridle and girth. After a couple of attempts while he pranced in place, she finally held him steady long enough to mount, and turned his head toward Cade’s place, which was hardly necessary as he took off. The trot downhill was bumpy, and she grabbed the saddle horn, recalling her grandfather’s disgust whenever anyone did that, earning them the nickname tenderfoot. It wasn’t her foot she was worried about becoming tender as she forced herself to sit straight, give the horse his head, and follow instead of fight the rhythms of his gait.

  Her horse took each switch back on his own, then at the bottom of the hill, he picked up a gallop. Lucy didn’t try to rein him back, she was as determined as he was to catch up to Cade. If the fire was as close to his place as it appeared, all his dreams, his home and barn, could be going up in smoke.

  As they rounded a cactus, steering inches wide of its sharp needles, another thought occurred. Penny was in the kennel!

  Squeezing her legs to encourage the gelding into a full gallop, from somewhere deep inside, Lucy found her balance and her courage, and they burst into a clearing where the farm, and her worst fear imagine
d, became reality.

  Black smoke billowed and plumed, rising into the sky above the kennel. From a distance, a fire truck’s blaring siren wailed. Lucy hauled back on the reins, stopping her horse from running to the flames. To their right, Cade’s horse whickered as he trotted back and forth behind a pasture fence well out of danger.

  Lucy gave him his head as Cade instructed, but held on tight as the horse bucked a kick and raced toward his comrade. She almost lost her seat when they stopped short, but she managed to hang on long enough to swing her right leg over to dismount. She unlatched the gate, and stood aside, legs aquiver from not having used the muscles for so long. The gelding swapped loud snorts with his companion.

  “Wait!” She reached up to the frightened horse. “Let me have your bridle and you can go.” She tugged it off over his ears, but before she could take off the saddle, which she realized too late she should have done first, he spun and kicked, barely missing her left ear before he ran off. Lucy had no choice but to let them go.

  She let herself out, made sure the bolt was locked in place on the gate, then ran on shaky legs to the burning barn, calling Cade. “Where are you?” She ran up to a firefighter training a hose on the engulfed roof. “Please, I’m looking for Cade!”

  “Over here, Lucy!” Fire extinguisher in his grip, Cade’s shirt was soaked, his chest heaving. “Stay back! I think they can save the horse barn, but the kennel is already gone.”

  Arms clasped around her, she coughed, choking against the acrid mix of sweat and cinders. “What about Penny?” She caught a sob as a wall of the kennel tumbled inward, sending sparks skyward. “My little girl!”

  She headed for the building, but Cade grabbed her by the shoulder. “Oh, no you don’t! It’s okay, I got her out. She’s safely locked up in the house with Harry!” He let go of her, and aimed a sputtering stream at a hot spot, but the cylinder had emptied. “She breathed in some smoke, but she’s fine.” He set the useless canister down, and she automatically wrapped her arms around him, drawing comfort and strength from his embrace. The adrenaline was giving her the shakes, and her legs were about to give way.