To Bead or Not to Bead, Glass Bead Mystery Series, Book 4

by Janice Peacock

  “I found it inside a trunk that belonged to my great-aunt. How old do you think it is?”

  “I’m not sure, maybe from the 1940s. That’s when a lot of the trade for these small carvings started. This one is unusual, I think. See this little seam?” Buff pointed to a spot at the base of the tail. “This one may have a little compartment in it. Have you ever opened it?”

  “No, I wouldn’t want to break its tail off.”

  “Maybe you don’t want to know what mystery lies within,” Buff said with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

  “I didn’t realize it even had an inside. Funny, I often tell Val how important it is to look past the exterior of someone or something to see what lies inside, but usually we’re talking about boyfriends.”

  Buff laughed, placed the carving back into my hands, and closed my fingers around it. I set it down on the kitchen counter, not wanting to think about what secrets the tiny whale carving might hold.

  “I’m sure you’ll figure out what you want to do with it. Now, where is that patient of mine?” Buff asked, looking around the house. We found Gumdrop sleeping in one of his favorite spots near the window in my studio. Buff spent a minute or two petting my cat, who perked up from all of the attention. Gummie seemed to be at least as smitten with Buff as Val was.

  “Looks like Gumdrop is doing better. Just make sure he keeps drinking, and if anything changes, give me a call. Now, I really should be going,” Buff said, walking back toward my front door. “Lots to do at my house. You don’t know anybody who can do some home improvement projects? Like a painter?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. His name is Rudy—he’s a friend of Val’s,” I said.

  “A boyfriend?”

  “No, she told me several times that their relationship is purely platonic.”

  “Oh, well, then…”

  “In fact, I’ll have her get in touch with you to give you Rudy’s number.”

  “Can’t you give me his number?”

  “Of course I could, but then Val wouldn’t have a reason to call you.”

  I closed the door behind Buff and smiled, feeling like such a clever matchmaker.

  I tossed the jacket with the mic boutonnière on my bed. I needed to use the bathroom, and I didn’t think Zachary and Bev would want to experience that in full-blown Dolby audio.

  Zachary called. I was going to have to keep the conversation brief, because I didn’t want to tell him I’d planned to go snooping at the theater in a matter of hours, or that Ryan was giving me access. Ryan and Zachary’s mutual jealousy was something I’d experienced more than once, and it wasn’t pleasant.

  “You’re not wearing your mic,” he said.

  “Sorry. I should be able to have a little privacy now and then, right? I’m home now. I struck out at the theater. Daniel seems to be a bit of a basket case. He was in the box office, so I couldn’t do much searching for financial records for Bev.”

  “Thank you for trying. We’ll figure out some other way. Don’t worry about it. And if you start feeling uncomfortable about doing this work for us, just let me know, and we’ll stop. I want you to be safe.”

  “I’m fine. I’m just glad I can help, though I don’t feel like I’ve been all that useful—yet.” I didn’t want to tell him that I was going on a snooping mission tonight because I was certain he wouldn’t approve. I changed the subject. If my sleuthing did turn up something tonight, I’d have to figure out a way to tell him, but I’d cross that bridge when, and if, I needed to.

  “What happened to all the broken glass from the chandelier?”

  “It’s sitting in the evidence room taking up too much space—two Rubbermaid tubs of glass gravel. Actually, it’s not all gravel. There are several good-sized spheres that survived the fall. If someone knew something about glass, they could make—” Zachary stopped talking. “No. Sorry. Forget I even said it. You cannot have the rubble from the chandelier.”

  “Please?”

  “No. Seriously, those bins full of glass are evidence right now. When we’re done with them, then maybe we can talk about it. Maybe.”

  “Okay, just know I have first dibs,” I said, feeling not the least bit foolish for wanting buckets of art glass shards. I wasn’t sure what I’d do with them, but I was certain I wanted them.

  “Were you listening a little while ago?” I asked.

  “You mean when you were talking with the vet? Yes. I was.” Zachary said, his voice sounding warm, the way I liked it.

  “He seems harmless, right?”

  “I’m happy that he seems more interested in your cat than in you.”

  “Well, my boy Zee—”

  “Do not call me that. Seriously. Not even Bev is supposed to call me that.”

  “Okay, don’t get so uptight. I’ll talk with you later,” I said as I ended the call.

  Gumdrop cruised into the room. I was glad to see him up and around. I brought him out to the kitchen and set him on the counter, as usual.

  “Do you want something to eat?”

  Gummie didn’t say a word. He just stared at me with those big green eyes.

  “Well, we can’t let you waste away to nothing, can we? How about some tuna?” I fished out a can from the back of the pantry, opened it, and dumped it into a bowl. “Come on, big boy.”

  He took a few bites, which was progress. Then he wandered over to the whale carving, which I had left on the counter, and gave it a swat.

  “Gumdrop! You naughty boy!” I said, grabbing the carving. Not liking to be yelled at, he jumped off the counter and headed down the hall. I stood in my kitchen looking at the tiny whale carving in my hand. What secrets did it hold? Why had Aunt Rita kept it hidden away for all those years? And what should I do with it now? Mr. Chu had once told me the carving was valuable, but even with money tight, I’d never considered selling it. I was curious about whether there might be something inside it. I held it up to my ear and gave it a little shake. Did I hear something rattle inside, or was that just my over-active imagination?

  I ran my fingernail around the line Dr. Brown had pointed out. There definitely was a seam there. I gave the tail a gentle twist. It didn’t budge. I turned on the hot water faucet at the kitchen sink, and ran water over the carving, gently applying pressure to the tail until it moved a little. Slowly, I twisted the tail back and forth, until it started to turn more freely. I pulled it out of the water and dried it off on a dish towel.

  I gently pulled on the tail. Like a stopper on a bottle, the tail released with a little pop. I looked inside the opening, then tipped the end into my hand. A tiny key fell into my palm. It was tarnished and old, like a miniature skeleton key. I had no idea what this might fit—I’d never seen any locked cupboards or chests among my great-aunt’s belongings.

  “Whatcha got there?” Val said, nearly scaring me to death. Val must’ve let herself in, and I had been so focused on my treasure I hadn’t heard her sneak up on me.

  “Geez, Val, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” Gumdrop hadn’t made a sound—so much for my guard cat.

  “Sorry. I wanted to see if that hunky vet had anything to say about me.”

  “As a matter of fact, he did. I think he’d like to get to know you better.”

  “Oh, goodie!” she said. “You still haven’t explained what that little key is for.” Val peered into my palm.

  “I don’t know. I just found it inside this little carving.” I turned the key over in my hand, looking for any marking that might give me a clue to what this key fit.

  “It might open a treasure chest!” Val said with an excited hop.

  “Maybe, but we don’t have a map to go along with it, so, it’s going to be hard to know where to start digging.”

  “Oh, poo. And you haven’t found any mysterious-looking chests?”

  “No, but if I do, you’ll be the first to k
now.” I ushered her to the door. “Look, I’m tired. I’m going to call it a day. Oh, and Val? Here’s Buff Brown’s business card.”

  “Okay, thanks. I guess next time I need to take Stanley to the vet, I’ll give him a call.”

  “He needs someone to paint his house.”

  “Sorry, I’m a little too busy to do that. Besides, Rudy would…oh, do you think I should call Buff and give him Rudy’s number?”

  “Yes, I do!” I adored Val, but sometimes she wasn’t too swift on the uptake.

  “You sneaky little devil,” Val said, giving me an air kiss and sashaying out the door.

  I picked up the whale carving, put the key back into it, and slid the tail back into its end. Then I took it back to my studio and put it on the windowsill which held many of my treasures.

  FIFTEEN

  At ten forty-five that night I drove to the Chanticleer Theater. I wore all black because that seemed like the best attire for creeping around a theater. When I arrived, I parked at the far end of the parking lot and watched as the actors and crew members from Hamlet left the building. Finally, Ryan stuck his head out the backstage door and spotted me. He waved. It was time.

  I trotted to him and slipped inside, pulling a flashlight from my handbag.

  “You be careful,” he said, with a sexy smoothness in his voice that was hard to resist, especially in the dark.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to accompany me?” I asked, starting to wonder if I should do this alone.

  “Look, my days of getting in trouble are over. I’ve already lost my dream job helping you.” And it was true. Ryan had gotten into a lot of trouble springing me from jail.

  “I didn’t ask you to break the rules,” I said, after taking some deep breaths to steel my nerves for what I was about to do.

  “I know, that’s on me. Look. I’ll stand guard, and if I see someone coming, I’ll text you. Make sure your phone is on vibrate.”

  I flicked the switch on my phone and stuffed it in my pocket. I’d left my jacket with the microphone on it at my house. I didn’t want Zachary listening in on this, because he would definitely not approve.

  Off I went into the dark backstage. As I passed through the wings, I saw my old lamp, now in place as the new ghost light, illuminating the stage. I scanned the theater’s seating area with my flashlight as I went. I knew having a flashlight on would be a dead giveaway if there was someone else in the theater, but there was no way I could sneak around in the pitch black. I thought about turning on the lights, but I didn’t have a clue where to find the switches.

  I took the small flight of stairs that connected the backstage to the seating area, staying close to the wall as I went. I crept into the lobby and tried the box office door. It was locked. So far my snooping wasn’t panning out. Windows, which looked out on Yesler Square, ran the length of the lobby, and while it was dark, anyone walking by could have seen me. I definitely looked like I was guilty of something, standing there in the dark with my flashlight on. Not wanting to draw attention from any passersby, I headed back into the window-free seating area.

  The door to the rehearsal space in the Underground was open. I decided to take a look around downstairs, even though this was my least favorite place. I walked silently down the stairs and into the rehearsal space, panning the flashlight from side to side as I went. The room was as we had left it, with a circle of chairs around the perimeter. At the far end of the room was the hall where Tessa and I had been nearly trampled by five stampeding teen girls running from a rat. Now it was my turn to explore, and I hoped I wouldn’t run into anything, or anyone, that would freak me out.

  I stepped cautiously into the hall, keeping the flashlight’s beam pointed ahead as I walked. It was cold and creepy in this narrow passage—more like an underground alley, its brick walls lined with junk. There was a box marked with the word Pyro, as well as discarded props and set materials. As I continued along, the hall forked. Which way should I go? My sense of direction was abysmal, and even worse in the dark and underground. With a mental coin toss, I veered right, hoping this direction might take me somewhere useful.

  After just a few yards, I came to a stairway that led up to a door. Pushing the door open, I found myself, amazingly, inside the box office.

  I’d been in here before, when I talked with Daniel while he was working on his laptop. The ticket service window was closed up tight, so I decided it was safe to turn on the lights. I flipped the switch on, blinking against the sudden brightness. I was disappointed to discover that the laptop was nowhere to be found. Daniel must take it home with him at night. Dammit. I started looking for financial records that could help Bev. I opened the file cabinet, hoping to find a treasure trove of documents. There were documents, but none that would help us in the slightest. The whole top drawer was full of scripts. Double dammit. I tried the bottom drawer. It was full of actors’ headshots. Triple dammit. The one sitting right on top was Ryan’s, featuring his signature smoldering smile that made me weak in the knees.

  I didn’t want to return from my snooping mission empty-handed, but there was simply nothing in this office that could prove the Greers were laundering money. There were no clues about any drugs that might have been part of the reason Austin had been killed. I’d reached a dead end, for now, and it was time to get out of here.

  I slipped back downstairs, and found myself at the fork in the alley. I was pretty sure if I turned to the left at this point, I’d find my way back to the rehearsal space. I crossed my fingers and made the turn. Moments later I was relieved to be back in the safety of the rehearsal space. I let out a deep breath. While I knew it was impossible to have held my breath the entire time I was in the passageway, it certainly felt like that. I was feeling a bit lightheaded, but that might have been more residual fear than a lack of oxygen. I steadied myself on a chair and listened. Above me, I swore I heard the sound of footsteps. Was someone here in the theater with me? I hoped not.

  I realized—too late—that this was a bad plan. I needed to get the hell out of here. I was in a place where someone had been murdered only days before, and being here now had put me in danger with no backup plan. Had I worn my mic, I could have at least yelled my mayday word, ice cream. Great. Now I was scared and I wanted a bowl of ice cream.

  I listened again for the sound, but heard nothing. It was time to make a break for it. I tiptoed up the stairs and into the backstage area. As I was passing through the wings, I glanced onto the stage. It was completely dark. What had happened to the ghost light? It had illuminated the stage and the audience area when I first arrived and walked through the seating area to the lobby. Now, the light was out. Had the bulb burnt out, or had the someone I’d heard walking around up here turned it off?

  I stopped in my tracks. I had to find out. I crept onto the stage. Maybe this was all in my imagination. Maybe there was no one here. Maybe the light bulb had burnt out, though I clearly recalled watching Daniel install a new bulb. I walked to the center of the stage and flipped the switch on the ghost light. Light flooded the stage. Oh, no! Someone was in here with me. My stomach churned with fear. I needed to get out, and fast.

  Something caught my eye in the darkened window at the back of the theater—the booth where the technicians ran the lights and sound. I swore I saw some movement up there. My flashlight’s beam wasn’t strong enough to reach that far as I squinted into the darkness. Suddenly, the stage lights burst on, blinding me, as I looked into the auditorium.

  This couldn’t possibly be an accident or a malfunction. Someone was in the booth, and they were doing their best to scare me. I must admit, they were doing a damn fine job. Suddenly, the ghost of Hamlet’s father appeared, his gauzy form eerily gliding in from the wings, headed straight for me. This was the last straw. There was no way I could stay in the theater a second longer. I bolted out the door, where I found Ryan sitting in his car. I slid into the passenger seat next
to him, out of breath.

  “Holy crap, Jax, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

  “I did see a ghost. I’m pretty sure it was just the special effects, but it means someone’s in there running the effects from the booth. I thought I saw someone up there for a moment, but I wasn’t sure, until the ghost came after me. Do lights and special effects ever come on automatically?”

  “Not that I know of. Here, let me hold you,” Ryan said, reaching out for me.

  “Um, no. That would be unwise.” I needed to get out of there for a variety of reasons, including Ryan wanting to wrap his strong arms around me. Plus, someone was trying to scare me off, and succeeding. My cover was blown, I realized. Whoever it was now knew I’d been in the theater snooping around.

  SIXTEEN

  The next morning Dylan was sitting at my kitchen table. I’d called him the day before and invited him to come over early for breakfast before starting work in my attic. Val had said she wanted to try out a new recipe for French toast. It was always terrific to have someone like Dylan around to eat Val’s food, because he was perpetually hungry. Even if Val’s newest concoction was a miss instead of hit, Dylan would likely eat it.

  Rudy arrived a few minutes later and pulled up a kitchen chair next to Dylan.

  “Hey. Nice to see you, man,” Dylan said, fist bumping Rudy. “Jax said I might be able to help you out.”

  “Have you ever put up drywall? How about painting, ever done any?” Rudy asked.

  “Yeah, I’ve done some drywall and a little painting. I can do some electrical work—not licensed or anything,” Dylan replied. “I’d be happy to help you. My schedule’s really flexible—I just need to check some dates with Tessa.”

  “Sure, I’ll give you a try,” Rudy said. “If it works out, I might have some other jobs for you. Summer’s always a busy season for me.”