Cade held the phone up, focusing on her face. “You sure the bait will work and won’t alert them they’re being set up?”
“Don’t use all your battery before go time,” she warned. “We have two very strong factors in our favor.” She counted off. “First, give actors a chance to perform, and they’ll jump at the chance and won’t overthink the reason. Second, the cast of a show that’s recently closed wouldn’t be surprised to be asked to do a remount of a number or scene. They’re done a lot for publicity.”
“What if the culprit was someone on crew?”
“We’ll have to come up with another lure for that if this doesn’t work.” She tried to sound confident, but Cade had a point. Then she sat forward. “Drat. I almost forgot to call Dillon.”
Cade’s brows raised. “You really think your ex is capable of murder?”
“No, but if he hears about my call he’ll suspect something’s up and might sound an alarm. He should always be notified first anyway. I have to call him.” She dialed and got his voicemail. “Hey, Dillon, it’s me. I’m trying to arrange a fundraiser for a local nonprofit, you remember the veterinarian who helped me with Penny, right?” She couldn’t help bringing up that bit. “He’s starting a wounded warrior assistance program. It’s called Cade’s Canine Assistance, and I thought it would be a great opportunity for me to showcase my skills, as well as advertise the theater company and connect us with a good cause. Not a bad idea under the recent circumstances, right?” She was already telling him more details than she’d told the others, but she enjoyed thinking of how Dillon would react to her news, especially with a handsome vet involved. “Anyway, I’m asking anyone who wants to be involved in the fundraiser to come to the theater at eight o’clock tomorrow night for a brainstorming session.” She finished with the same line she’d delivered each time, worded to suggest that she was alone and vulnerable. “I’ll be at the theater office for a few more hours tonight pulling together song sheets and making a proposed itinerary, so call me here if you have questions…ok then, ‘bye.” She stood up. “That’s done. Shall we take our positions?”
“Cade’s Canine Companions?” Cade said.
“Has a nice ring to it,” she said. “What do you think?”
“I like it. And the fundraiser idea, I thought you were just making something up.”
“I was, but it suddenly came to me how that might work. I hope you don’t mind.”
“How could I mind? I never would have thought of something like that.” She was standing nose to his stubbled chin. “We started the clock, we’d better get set up.”
“Right. Time for Chester.”
They had found some old costume pieces in the shop and fashioned together a prop dummy. Lucy pulled the shades down, and rolled the chair up to the desk. She stepped outside to look in the window, and sure enough, it looked like someone was in there. “Now, let’s go into the lighting booth so I can switch the light controls to the stage manager’s desk. It will be good for you to see the layout of the theater while it’s lit up.”
“I’ve always wanted to say this, may I?”
She looked at him, confused. “Say what?”
“It’s showtime!” He started to make jazz hands, but his phone rang. “I gotta take this,” he said and punched it on. “Hello?”
While he talked, Lucy made the changes that would switch all the lighting controls to the manager’s desk backstage. She started up the aisle, Cade following her, but the expression on his face told her volumes.
“Operation Lure out Phantom of Oz is now officially over. We have to go.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” she demanded.
“Difficult foaling, it’s not something that will wait.” He searched her face. “It’s possible I can get Dr. Kendall to cover, but if she doesn’t answer, we are going.”
She climbed the steps onto the stage, and could hear him speaking with a service. “Thanks anyway.” He took the steps to join her where she was checking the control board.
“No luck?”
“I have to go. We have to go. Come on, we’ll think of something else to prove you weren’t at fault.” He grabbed her hand. “You ever see a foal being born?”
She pulled away. “No. I’m staying. We’ve set the trap, and all I have to do is see who shows up.”
“I can’t let you stay. If someone really does want to hurt you—”
“What do you mean by if?” The choice of words spoke volumes. “You don’t believe me either?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You’ve been humoring me this whole time?”
“Look, Lucy, I—”
“Go ahead. Leave, I wouldn’t want you to risk losing the horse baby.”
“I don’t want to leave you here. I do believe you, that came out wrong. Come with me. Please?”
“Which is it? You either believe me or you don’t.”
The phone buzzed in his hand, and he checked the face. “It’s the farm again.” He looked from her to his phone, and then answered. “I’m on my way.” He thrust the phone at her. “Take this, and hide. You said yourself that was the plan all along…right? So if…when, you hear anything, anyone, call 9-1-1. Do you hear me? Do not confront anyone. Promise?”
Lucy nodded. She would have to do this alone, it couldn’t be helped. “I promise.”
Cade dashed toward the exit door, and that fast, she was alone.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Cade had been gone for about ten minutes. Lucy tugged her black hoodie up over her head, ducking deeper into the alcove she’d chosen to wait in. It was an ideal spot, with the curtain legs on one side, and the wall of the stage on the other. She could see across the boards into the aisle where someone would pass on their way from the backstage door to the office. Perfect. She checked one pocket for her knife, the other for her small flashlight, but she didn’t want to turn it on and ruin her night vision. When someone stepped inside, even from the night, their eyes would have been adjusted to the light from headlights and the lamp over the loading dock. She would have the advantage of seeing well without lights on.
After about an hour, her adrenaline began to wane, and Lucy yawned. The ploy was not going to work. Now she had to figure out how to get home. When Cade had left neither one of them had remembered her Jeep wasn’t here.
She was stranded. No wallet, no car. Her legs were stiff, her headache was returning, and she decided to lie down on the greenroom couch until either Cade returned, or someone showed up in the morning. Her stomach was rumbling, and she had opened the refrigerator hoping for a stale donut or some leftover salad when she heard a car engine outside the window. She slammed the door to shut off the light, shutting her eyes to return her night vision as quickly as possible. She listened, hoping it was Cade returning.
It wasn’t the sound of his diesel engine. She squinted through the dusty blinds. When she saw the vehicle in the loading dock, just yards from where she stood, her heart began beating wildly. It was the panel van.
She was in full view, and the killer had possibly seen the light from the refrigerator, and would know where she was. She held her breath as the driver’s side door opened, and then exhaled a sigh of relief. It was only Justin.
“Hey, buddy, what’cha doin’?” Feeling relief flood over her, Lucy met him at the door, and stepped out onto the dock. The warm evening air was refreshing after being in the theater.
“Huh? Who is that?” Justin startled, and he seemed to actually throw up his hands as if in a martial arts move.
She slid off the hoodie so he could see her face. “It’s just me.”
Justin’s eyes narrowed and he seemed to lean forward in his shoes. “What are you doing here?”
“Didn’t you get my voicemail?”
“No.” He pulled out his phone to study the face. “What did you say?”
“Um, well.” The plan seemed to be failing. “It’s a new...” She matched his suspicious look. “Wait. Why are you here?”
He hesitated, then challenged her. “Are you even supposed to have access? Last time I checked you were fired and surrendered your keys.”
“I haven’t been officially fired, and I’d appreciate if you’d stop rubbing it in.”
Just then, another car pulled into the lot, its tires bumping the curb. They both turned to see who it was.
“Is that someone you know?” Lucy didn’t recognize the sedan.
Justin shook his head. “No, why? Are you here alone? What’s going on, Lucy?”
The car’s door slammed, and two figures moved toward them.
“Quick, run!” Lucy’s senses kicked into high gear and she tugged Justin’s sleeve. “Come on!”
Before she could jerk the door open, two men jumped up onto the dock. One knocked into Lucy, and the other one grabbed Justin by the arm, and his cell phone flew into the bushes.
“What the?” Justin’s feet flew into an immediate karate kick, delivering a blow to the guy’s belly, knocking him flat.
Lucy dug in her pocket and drew out the knife, slashing it across her attacker’s palm. He drew back, screaming, blood oozing down onto her as she pulled herself to her feet and jumped down to the lot.
Matching her strides, Justin kept up with Lucy as she ran around the building to the public entrance. Praying her fingers didn’t betray her, she entered the digital code, and jiggled to encourage it to unlock. She heaved back and they bolted inside.
“Someone’s trying to kill me, and I think that’s them.”
They hurried up the ramp into the audience seating area as someone pulled, rattling the door.
“What? You’re imagining things.” Justin trotted next to her. “They haven’t actually done anything, they’re just trying to get in. Maybe they’re overzealous about their musical theater. This is silly. I’m going back to see what they want.”
“Don’t you understand?” Lucy grabbed his arm to stop him. “Somebody is serious about getting me out of the way, and the more I ask what really happened to Ambrose, the worse it gets. My car has been t-boned, I was kidnapped and left in a shack in the desert to die, and I’ve been getting death threats by special delivery.”
“You didn’t just panic and cut that guy?” Justin’s jaw set. “You think he’s going to kill you? You’re serious?”
She kept going to her hiding place, but she wasn’t sure what good it would do now. “Who are they, Justin?” They were in the wings by now. “We should call the police, where’s your cell?”
He patted his pockets. “I had it a minute ago. I tell you what, you go hide, and I’ll go see if they’re gone. They were probably just trying to mug us.”
She still gripped the bloody knife. “No. We can get into the office and call the police from there.”
She wiped the blade on her pants leg. “Ew.”
Justin indicated the bathroom door. “I’ll go in the shop and call the police, why don’t you go in the bathroom and clean up?”
His offer made sense, but something about the situation still set her senses on high alert. “Okay, thanks.” She would be alone and vulnerable, something she’d promised Cade wouldn’t happen.
Justin headed toward the scene shop where there was a landline phone, but when she turned off the water and reached for a paper towel, strange men’s voices alerted her they weren’t alone in the building. She’d be a sitting duck inside the bathroom. Had Justin made the call and the police already arrived?
Quick drying her hands and returning the still damp knife to her pocket, she let herself out and body blocked the heavy soundproof door so it would close quietly, then remembered too late. No police unit flashes of light, no voices calling her outside to safety.
A tickle of panic worked its way into her throat, and she quick surveyed the hallway. If she tried to make the scenery shop, she’d likely encounter whoever was after her. Her old hiding place was not safe because to get there she’d have to cross the stage.
Directly across from where she stood was a door, almost hidden except for a latch flush-mounted and camouflaged by a paint job intended to conceal the access to the catwalk.
Lucy let herself in and ascended the ladder to the metal grid running across, over and above the seating area. As lightly as she could in almost total darkness, her feet scraped against the railing. She forced herself to freeze, waiting for her eyes to adjust. The term catwalk had never been as real to her before. She made herself as lithe and quiet as a cat slinking along the metal walkway.
At the top, she crouched, as motionless as possible, searching the audience seats row by row. Then she began to wonder where Justin was.
Could she even trust him? He had been the first to arrive, and he was quite defensive about why he
was there. He was driving a panel truck just like the brick thrower had.
Maybe the attackers outside were muggers and he was waiting for them to leave so he could kill her. If Justin wanted her dead, his knowledge of the theater would match hers. He would be able to find her unless she could stay completely quiet, and stay aware of him at all times. But where was he?
CHAPTER FOuRTEEN
Lucy felt her way along the catwalk, at least twenty-five feet above the seats. Bits of dust and chaff wafted down, catching light from the ghost bulb standing center stage. Stifling a sneeze, she knew a sniffle could be heard everywhere, giving away her position.
Pausing every few feet, she listened to the building’s groans and sighs she’d memorized. From the subtle plumbing sounds, to the asthmatic rattle when the air conditioning first kicked on, every creak was familiar, comforting. Somewhere, a door closed. She felt the movement more than heard it, the slightest change in the air pressure, every nerve ending in her body at such heightened awareness there was no mistaking. It was the backstage door.
By now, Justin would have had time to confront, or invite inside, whomever was outside. Her hearing still diminished from the crash, she strained to hear voices or any sounds from where she crouched. She was beginning to realize he hadn’t gone to the office or called the police. No sirens wailed, no rescue squads were on their way.
Clinging to the railing, Lucy squatted low, peering into the farthest reaches of the stage, into shadows that could have been hiding anyone dressed in dark clothes. Designed to mask anything not pulled into the light, the wings were a perfect spot for someone to lurk.
Taking shallow breaths, Lucy moved east, toward the cross-bridge that extended stage left. A cable wound around a beam was a snake ready to strike and trip her to her death. She lifted her foot to clear the obstacle, her slow journey to the pace of her pounding heartbeat.
Every few inches, she scanned below her, wondering what Justin was doing. Maybe he’d gone outside to search for his phone and they jumped him.
She began to doubt herself. Justin wasn’t after her. All of this was a giant mistake. Surely the detective was right and none of the incidents were connected to each other. Turns out Cade wasn’t even convinced. Even though he’d been her knight, searching for her in the desert, he didn’t think her plan tonight was going to work.
The desert. That wasn’t her imagination. Someone wishing her harm was out there. But who?
Now she was really worried about Justin. She scolded herself for letting him go alone. They should have stuck together. She started to head down and find him, this was all her fault. She felt for the knife she’d closed and slid in the pocket. It was dry now, but still a bit sticky from the bloody residue. From her perch, she sensed a change in the building, and spun her head to see a light flash just beyond the heavy, wide door in the backstage wall. Kept open during load in and rehearsals to move large set pieces on and offstage, it had been closed when she passed earlier.
The light indicated someone had entered the shop from the loading dock. The hair on her neck bristled. From that room, one could access every nook and cranny of the theater. If it was someone from the cast, it was unlikely they would know how to get upstairs. But everyone in the crew knew h
ow to access the catwalk.
She decided the best vantage point would be the cross-section just over the sound booth. Located in the very center of the theater, it was a sweet spot, providing the technician with the best location to adjust microphones and monitors. But it was also the very place most likely to ricochet any sound made by her movements onto the stage. Her only defense was the pitch-black darkness. If someone suspected where she was, they wouldn’t be able to see beyond the light wash from the ghost bulb, and she could hide up there indefinitely.
Lucy swept her eyes back and forth, checking the stage left door that accessed the hallway, then she checked the wings, the aisles, the seats below her. She had to twist around to see the rows behind her vantage point, then she repeated her sweep.
On her third or fourth recon, the slightest movement of a curtain leg caught her eye. She blinked; willing her vision to focus, laser-like.
All of a sudden, Justin moved out, his eyes wide, a hand across his mouth, a knife at his throat. Dressed in all black, hooded and impossible to recognize in the dark, someone’s large hand moved from Justin’s mouth, and he shrieked, “Come out, Luce! Please!” The guy jostled Justin, lurching him toward the orchestra pit.
“Where is she hiding? Tell me!” The man holding Justin demanded.
“I swear, I don’t know!” Justin’s body language telegraphed his fear. Lucy gripped the railing watching what played out below. Was this one of the muggers from earlier? Where was the other guy, the one she’d sliced? Was he searching for her while his partner held Justin at knifepoint?
The jerk shoved Justin forward, shoes squeaking on the boards as he tried to keep from being pushed into the pit. It was a good eight-foot drop, and could be dangerous, if not fatal.
“Come out if you don’t want your friend dead!”
Lucy watched, helpless as Justin was lifted up and then dropped. She almost lost her lunch as his “Ow!!” reverberated into the rafters when he crashed down, from the sound of it on top of the folding chairs and music stands she’d stacked earlier.
Murder, Most Sincerely: A Romantic Backstage Mystery Page 8
