Seven Deadly Zins

by Nancy J. Parra

  “Thanks for sneaking me in,” I said to Mandy.

  “Wait—don’t go yet. I want you to meet Dr. Brinkman.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the back.

  “I don’t know,” I said and dragged my feet. I mean, wasn’t it being disloyal to Tim if I said nothing about Mandy and this guru? Besides, I didn’t feel I understood the hype behind the guy enough to need to meet him.

  “Don’t worry. Once you meet him in person, you’ll totally understand,” Mandy said. We pushed through a wave of people and ran into Tim coming out of Mandy’s dressing area.

  “Tim!” Mandy and I said his name at the same time.

  “What are you doing here?” Mandy asked.

  I looked into the dressing room behind Tim and saw a man on the floor. “What’s going on?”

  “Call nine-one-one,” Tim said. “This man is hurt.” I noticed that Tim had blood on his hands. I grabbed him and pulled him just inside the door.

  “Don’t move.” I pulled out my phone and dialed the emergency number.

  “Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”

  “We have an injured man in the first dressing room in the Bel Aire Auditorium,” I said.

  “Yes, we are aware,” the operator said. “You are the second caller. We have an ambulance and police on the way.”

  “Dr. Brinkman!” Mandy said and raced toward the downed man.

  I looked over my shoulder to see Mandy kneeling at the man’s side. She had rolled him over, and a knife was stuck to the hilt in his chest. Mandy screamed and scrambled back away from him. “Don’t touch anything!” I said.

  “What’s going on?” The 911 operator asked from my phone.

  “The victim has a knife sticking out of his chest,” I said. “There’s blood everywhere.”

  “Do not touch anything,” the operator said. “The police are on their way.”

  “Yes, you said that,” I said, my hand still on Tim’s arm. He looked stricken and like he might try to run. I shook my head. “We aren’t moving.”

  “Police!” Sheriff Hennessey shouted down the hall. “Nobody move!” The sound of shuffling stopped. I swear, all I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears. He came through the dressing room door with his gun drawn. “Nobody move,” he repeated.

  “We’re not moving,” Tim said.

  I frowned at Tim. “Don’t say anything.”

  Deputy Bloomberg entered the doorway. He held his gun on us too. My heart was racing. I trusted Sheriff Hennessey, but I didn’t know this guy. It’s scary when anyone points a gun at you, let alone a man you don’t know. I raised my hands.

  “He’s dead,” Sheriff Hennessey said. He looked at Mandy. “Is this Dr. Brinkman?”

  “Yes,” she said and hugged her knees to her chest. “He was a kind and gentle man. Who would do this?”

  “Did you find him?” The sheriff looked straight at me.

  “Mandy was bringing me back to meet him—”

  “Stop,” he held his hand up. “We’ll get your statement later.” He stood. “In the meantime, don’t say a word to anyone.” He looked at the Deputy Bloomberg. “Put your gun away. He’s been dead awhile.”

  “But he was on stage not more than fifteen minutes ago,” I said, confused.

  “No, he wasn’t,” Mandy said with tears in her eyes. “You were listening to a stand-in. It’s why I wanted you to meet the real Dr. Brinkman.”

  Sheriff Hennessey looked straight at Tim. “What are you doing here?”

  “I thought you said not to talk.” I elbowed Tim. Now was not the time to antagonize anyone.

  “I did say that,” the sheriff said and blew out a long breath. “Bring in the crime scene techs. I want this place gone over with a fine-tooth comb. I need everyone who was working backstage in the seats out front. Keep them quiet until we can interview them. The halls are filled with people—get them all in seats. We need to contain this quickly. No one in or out of the building besides Crime Scene and our own guys.”

  “Got it.” Deputy Bloomberg put his gun away, turned on his heel, and headed out. I could hear him barking orders to others and the sound of the people in the hallway moving with purpose.

  “I wasn’t the first one to call this in,” I said and stared at my phone. “Someone knew about it before we did.”

  “There will be a record of the call,” Sheriff Hennessey said. “If you weren’t the first, we’ll find out who was.”

  “Do we stand here until the crime guys show up and take our picture or something?” Tim asked. “Can Taylor put her hands down?”

  “Taylor, put your hands down,” Sheriff Hennessey said. “You can hang up your phone.” He pulled out his own phone and took three-hundred-and-sixty-degree pictures of the room, including the door and the doorframe. “You can go out into the hall.”

  I helped Mandy up. Tim put his arms around her and walked her out into the hall.

  “Is there someplace private we can keep you?” the sheriff asked. “Tim and Mandy are covered in blood. We need to keep them separate from the crowd.”

  “Dr. Brinkman’s office is behind you,” I said.

  “No, we need to keep that from being contaminated.”

  “There’s the box seats you were in last night,” Mandy said. “They are curtained off.”

  “See that they get there without touching anything or talking to anyone,” the sheriff said to a third deputy in the hall. “If they talk to each other, separate them.”

  “Yes, sir,” the deputy said.

  Mandy led us down the empty hall to the boxed seats. I took a seat in the velvet-covered chair where I’d been the night before. I could see that there were two deputies on the stage, and the auditorium was a third full of people. They sat with various expressions. Some seemed stricken. Others appeared scared. A few seemed bored.

  “No phones,” the deputy said. “We’ll be collecting them for now. You’ll get them back once you are free to leave.”

  “The organizers have bottled water for everyone,” another deputy said. “Sit tight. We’ll bring you something shortly.”

  “How long is this going to take? I have kids at home,” one lady piped up.

  “We will be questioning everyone, one by one.”

  I noticed Aunt Jemma and Holly were in the crowd. They waved at me and I waved back. “Is everyone you know here?” Tim asked.

  “Just Holly and Aunt Jemma,” I said. “Holly is into Dr. Brinkman, and when I told Aunt Jemma I was coming to a second lecture, she forced her way in here. It’s why I was backstage with Mandy during the speech.”

  “Stop talking.” A deputy stuck his head through the curtain. “Or else I will separate you.”

  “How are you going to do that?” Tim asked. “The place is full.”

  Sheriff Hennessey stuck his head into the booth. “Take Tim Slade down to the station on suspicion of murder.”

  I stood. “Why? What did he do?”

  “He was seen going into the room, and he has blood on his hands,” Ron said. “Get him out of here.”

  “But—”

  “We will talk soon,” the sheriff said to me, his gorgeous gaze flinty.

  I sat back down without another word. There was little I could do to help Tim. I had seen him in the room with the body. I was certain he hadn’t killed Dr. Brinkman, but saying so now was not going to help. At least, that’s what I told myself.

  Chapter 15

  It took hours of waiting while they cleared the scene and the medical examiner’s office removed the body. The deputies slowly worked through the crowd, getting the story of how everyone had watched Dr. Brinkman give his speech on stage not fifteen minutes before his body was found. It was a mystery, because rumor had it that Dr. Brinkman had been dead at least two hours.

  Which in my opinion would clearly rule Tim out. Although I didn’t know for sure that he hadn’t been in the auditorium for two hours, it had seemed to me as if he’d just found the body. The real question was, with so many peopl
e backstage, why hadn’t someone else found the body?

  And who had called 911 besides me?

  Then there was the part about how Dr. Brinkman had been found dead in Mandy’s dressing room. Sheriff Hennessey took me out to question me before Mandy. Unlike the rest of the crowd who was brought back behind the curtain and interviewed quietly, I was taken to the office near the box office. There, Ron had another deputy stationed, taking notes.

  “Sit down, Taylor,” he said.

  I took the small chair that was empty.

  “Why were you here tonight?” he asked.

  “I was trying to figure out what all the fuss was about,” I said. “I’d been given a free ticket last night, and Mandy put me and Chelsea and Holly up in the private box. But I didn’t get what was so special about the talk.”

  “So you came back?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest and leaned back against the desk.

  “The people at my tour today said that Dr. Brinkman was life changing.”

  “You don’t think so.”

  “No,” I said with a shake of my head. “But then I didn’t drink the tea.”

  “You mean the Kool-Aid. The expression is ‘drink the Kool-Aid.’ ”

  “No, I mean tea. You see, they actually served tea before the lecture last night. I think there is something in it.”

  “Drugs?”

  “Most likely an herb that leaves you in a euphoric state. Then there’s the scent.”

  “Yes, I noticed it when I walked in,” he said. “The team is analyzing it now.”

  “It’s supposed to be essential oils. Good for calming the crowd.”

  “You think he was drugging the crowd. For what purpose?”

  “That’s what I came back to check,” I said and leaned forward. “Last night, Holly said she was willing to pay five hundred dollars for another ticket to hear him talk about her life’s purpose.”

  “That’s a lot of money.”

  “Money Holly doesn’t really have. That’s what made me come back,” I said. “I needed to know what would make Holly give up her lifelong dream of going to France.”

  “Makes sense,” he said. “How did you end up with Mandy behind the scenes?”

  “Two women from my tour group this afternoon had tickets to the lecture tonight. They offered me a seat, but when I told Aunt Jemma that I was going again tonight, she tagged along.”

  “She took your seat.”

  “Yes, but Mandy saw me and offered to take me backstage.”

  “You were backstage for the lecture.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did Dr. Brinkman seem okay to you? You must have seen him up close.”

  “You want to know how he could have been lecturing and dead at the same time.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Mandy said he had a double,” I said. “I believe it. You see, I was at the side of the stage. I could hear him clearly, but I didn’t get a good look at him. He entered from the other side of the stage and the lights were bright and there were a lot of people running around backstage doing things.”

  “Things like?”

  “Changing curtains, hair and makeup on the woman who introduced the doctor. Backstage things, I guess you could say.”

  “Was Mandy with you the entire time?”

  “Yes—er, not really,” I said. “When he started talking, she looked confused. I suspect she knew it wasn’t Dr. Brinkman. He must have been supposed to talk, but then he got switched at the last moment. She left my side, but not my sight. She went and talked to a stagehand and then came back and watched the rest of the speech with me. She wanted me to meet the doctor. That’s the reason I went back to the dressing room. So if Dr. Brinkman was killed during the speech, I don’t think Mandy did it.”

  “You think Mandy didn’t expect it to be the double on stage.”

  “No, she seemed worried. But you know, whoever killed Dr. Brinkman had to know about the double. They also had to know that Dr. Brinkman would not be missed until after the show.”

  “Tell me about what you saw last night when you went behind the stage to meet with Mandy.”

  “I’m sorry?” I blinked at him. “Last night?”

  “I know you saw Mandy and Dr. Brinkman in an embrace. You assumed they were having an affair, so you left.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I interviewed your aunt,” he said. “It gives Tim Slade a strong motive for murder. That, and the blood we found on his hands.”

  “Tim didn’t kill Dr. Brinkman,” I protested.

  “How do you know?” Sheriff Hennessey asked. He straightened and towered over me. There was true concern in his eyes. “How?”

  “I just know.”

  “That won’t hold up in a court of law.”

  “Mandy didn’t know Tim was in the building,” I pointed out. “When we went back to see Dr. Brinkman, she was a startled as I was to see Tim.”

  “She didn’t want him to meet her lover,” Sheriff Hennessey speculated.

  “I don’t know what she wanted,” I said and crossed my arms over my chest. “She was simply surprised. Then we saw Tim’s expression and knew something was wrong. As soon as I saw the blood and the body, I called nine-one-one. But someone had already called.”

  “We have a record of both calls,” he said.

  “Who was the other caller?” I asked, my curiosity strong.

  “Someone from a theater phone. We haven’t been able to trace who called.”

  “Was it a guy or a girl?”

  “A guy. Where was Tim when you first saw him?”

  “He was coming out of the dressing room,” I said. “Do you think he called?”

  “I doubt it. He had blood on his hands, and there was no blood on any of the phones.”

  “I think he got bloody because he was checking the pulse on Dr. Brinkman. I know that’s what I would have done.”

  “What about Mandy?” he asked. “Was she with you the entire time?”

  “She came inside the room behind me. She recognized Dr. Brinkman right away and went to him. It was Mandy who turned him over and saw the knife.”

  “Mandy turned him over? He wasn’t a small man.”

  “She must be stronger than she looks,” I said with a frown. “Or maybe he was tipped. You know how when someone is on their side, it’s sometimes easy to turn them over?”

  “Was he on his side?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I think … now I’m confused.”

  “It’s harder to be a witness than people think. There is a lot of adrenaline pumping when you realize something has gone wrong.”

  “I can tell you, after she turned him over and I saw the knife, I told them both not to move.”

  “And did they listen?”

  “They did,” I said. “So if Tim were the killer, why would he just let me call the police and be caught at the crime scene? Why didn’t he flee?”

  “That’s a good question and one I plan on asking him,” the sheriff said.

  “There were a lot of people backstage,” I continued. “Anyone could have done it and run.”

  “We’re talking to a lot of witnesses.”

  I stood. “Can I go now?”

  “Yes,” he said and put his hand on my arm. “Go home and get some rest, and please, stay out of the investigation. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “Me, either,” I said.

  “I still want to have that coffee date,” he said in a low voice.

  “Let’s wait until after the investigation,” I said. “I think it’s for the best.”

  “I agree. I’ll walk you out.”

  Holly and Aunt Jemma were waiting for me in the lobby. “Hey, you didn’t have to wait for me,” I said as I put my arms around them, “but I’m glad you did.”

  “We wanted to make sure you were all right,” Aunt Jemma said. She glanced at Sheriff Hennessey. “It can’t be easy being this involved. She’s not a killer.”

  “I
know that,” he said and crossed his arms again. “She’s not a suspect here. She’s a witness.”

  “Good,” Aunt Jemma said. “Well, then you are invited to the vineyard for drinks any time you have a free night.” She winked at him. “It’s nice to have a handsome man stop by for company on occasion.”

  “Aunt Jemma,” I scolded.

  “What?” she asked, her eyes round with pretend innocence. “I like looking at handsome men.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

  We walked outside and into the cool evening. The scent of grapes and fog filled my senses. Aunt Jemma brought her car so I could leave the VW van at the vineyard. “Let’s drive you home,” Aunt Jemma said to Holly.

  “Thanks,” she said. “Normally, I’d walk because it’s not that far, but there is a killer on the loose.”

  “I’ll walk you up to your door,” I said. “I don’t want anything to happen.”

  “Thanks.” Holly got into the back seat of Aunt Jemma’s little Mini Cooper, and we drove the few blocks to Holly’s apartment complex. “I’m glad Chelsea wasn’t here.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” I turned to see her expression. “Was the lecture as good as last night? I mean do you still feel the need to sign up for more classes and spend all your money you were saving for your trip to France?”

  “I think the information was great and very helpful. There’s something about his voice …”

  “See, I wondered. I didn’t really listen yesterday, I guess. The sheriff thinks that Dr. Brinkman was already dead. Which means it wasn’t him up on stage.”

  “What? That can’t be.”

  “Think about it,” I said. “He could have been a double.”

  “But the voice was the same. I think … no, I’m sure of it.”

  “He could have been mouthing a recording,” Aunt Jemma said. “Like singers do sometimes. There are many people who do that these days.”

  “Why would Dr. Brinkman use a body double?” Holly asked.