Act V (30 page)

Chapter 26

The reporter was one Henry Donaldson, a
young fellow that didn’t see the need to follow all the rules. “Did
it ever occur to you, Mr. Donaldson, that you could be causing a
lot of trouble for the director of this troupe as well as aiding
and abetting a killer by publishing the information in this
letter?”

Donaldson had flaming red hair and
freckles. Brice thought he looked like Jimmy Olson of Superman
fame. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t even publish the whole
letter, just a part of it.”

Addison actually growled at the man.
“Are you stupid or do you just want us to think you are? Boy, don’t
you know you’re supposed to turn this kind of thing in to the
police? We’re dealing with a crazy man here. He might even come
after you.”

Brice leaned in to the boy. “You don’t
think Sandra Fitchwell actually died by accident do
you?”

They boy went even paler than he had
been to begin with. “You mean he killed her? I thought she got
drunk and drove into that lake.”

“
Think again,” Brice told
him. “That’s just the official story. You might be next on his
list. I’d brush up on my Shakespeare if I were you. Maybe you can
figure out how he plans to do you in.”

The boy was visibly shaking now. “What
can I do to help you get him?”

“
You can start by giving us
that note and a description of the kid who delivered it.” Addy told
him. “Then if you get any more communication from this guy, you
give it to us first, understand?”

“
Are you gonna give me some
kind of police protection?”

Addy laughed. “Where do you think you
are, New York? We got a small staff here and they’ve got more to do
than watch your skinny white butt. You’ll just have to watch it
yourself.”

*****

Addy watched the kid leave. “You don’t
think he’s in any danger do you?”

“
Nah,” Brice answered. “He
doesn’t have anything the guy wants. I just wanted to put the fear
of God into him.”

“
Well, I think you did. He
looked like he was gonna wet his pants.”

“
Good, maybe he’ll think
twice before he does anything that stupid again.”

*****

It was Tuesday. Glynnis had
another full day before the next performance and decided to work on
the July show. They’d already done casting for
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
, and would
begin the read-through and blocking next week on off-performance
days. It was perhaps her favorite Shakespeare. The best part,
besides the magical love stories, was that nobody died in this one.
She was thinking about doing something a bit different. She could
set it as a 1960’s Woodstock sort of theme. That could be fun;
hippies, establishment, lots of contrast between the two. She let
her imagination wander. She was beginning to relax a little. There
had been no more dreams and life felt almost normal.

Brice would be home in a couple of
hours and she planned to talk to him about moving back into her own
home. She could get used to being with Brice all the time and that
wasn’t something she was ready for. It was better if she went back
to her own place and they went slowly from there. Besides, he had
never planned to make this permanent. This was just a survival
measure. So why was she having so much trouble bringing the subject
up.

Her cell phone rang. She answered.
“This is Glynnis.”

“
Glynn, I was hoping you’d
answer.”

“
Dorsey? You sound really
strange. Are you okay? Have you been drinking again?”

“
I’m fine, just worried
about this whole thing. The cops keep bringing me in for questions
and now…listen, can we get together later, say in another hour or
so? I’ll be off work and I just want to talk.”

“
Dorsey, I shouldn’t. Brice
has asked me not to talk to you for now.”

“
Come on, Glynn. I’ll meet
you in a public place, that new café on main. You’ll be safe. I
can’t believe you think I could do any of that stuff
anyway.”

She felt just a little guilty. Of
course she didn’t believe Dorsey could hurt anybody. Surely it
would be okay in a public place in front of all those people.
“Dorsey, you know I don’t believe you would hurt me or anybody
else. It’s just that I promised Brice, and…”

“
I understand. Look just
forget it…I’ll, I’ll…just forget it.” He hung up.

Glynnis had too much of her mother in
her. From an early age, her mother had instilled a sense of guilt
in her so strong that it took almost nothing to bring it to the
forefront. Now she just couldn’t stand the thought of Dorsey
sitting there stewing over his multitude of problems, thinking that
she didn’t care enough to go out and spend a little time listening
to him. Maybe she could just call him back and then call Brice and
let him know what she was going to do. He wouldn’t like
it.

She picked up the phone and dialed
Dorsey’s number. It only took one ring. “Glynn?”

“
Okay Dorsey, when and
where?”

*****

She called Brice, but his voice mail
picked up so she left a message. “Brice, I’m going out to meet with
Dorsey. I know what you said, but we’re meeting at the Café Torte
on Main and it will be out in the open with a lot of people around.
I’ll be back by the time you get home.”

*****

Brice was on the phone when the other
line began to ring. He would have picked it up except that he was
talking to Hawkins about the case. “I just got a line on your long
sword and broadsword,” he was saying. “They were both purchased by
the same collector and it’s somebody here in Clearview.”

“
You gotta get that name for
me, man. When we get that collector we’ve got the
killer.”

“
I’m on it. Don’t worry.
I’ll call you back within the hour, I hope.”

“
Thanks.”

He hung up the phone and dialed his
house but Glynnis didn’t answer. She was probably working at the
theatre. He’d give her a call on the cell in a few
minutes.

Addison walked in and he was ready to
burst with excitement. “Ask me what I’ve got. Just ask
me.”

*****

Dorsey was waiting when Glynnis got to
the Café Torte. He had an outside table for two. “Is this okay? I
thought you might like to be where everyone could see
us.”

She didn’t comment on that. She just
sat down. “How are you?”

“
Pretty messed up,” he told
her. “Want a drink?”

“
I think you’ve had enough
for both of us.” She waved away his breath with one hand. “Dorsey,
you said you weren’t drinking.”

“
I only had one after I
called you. Maybe two.”

“
I think maybe we should get
some coffee.” She called the waiter over and ordered two coffees,
black.

“
Did you know how my father
died?” he slurred.

“
Yes, I remember. He had a
stroke.”

“
Yup, his blood pressure was
way too high and he just kept it there with his overeating and his
stress levels. Then the business failed and that was all she
wrote.” He made a drunken gesture with one hand to encompass the
whole café. “And these people, they don’t care if his business
nosedived and it killed him, as long as they can get cheap
pizza.”

“
Maybe you should get some
sleep.”

The waiter arrived with two cups of
coffee.

“
Do you know what put him
out of business?”

Glynnis was beginning to wish she
hadn’t agreed to this. She looked around. There were three other
couples and several people strolling down the street. It was
probably safe enough. And this was Dorsey, for crying out loud, not
some crazy lunatic killer.

“
Do you?” he prompted when
she didn’t respond right away.

“
He couldn’t compete with
Itza Pizza right?”

He pointed a shaking finger right in
her face. “That’s right. That son-of-a-bitch, Graham Itzen put him
out of business.” He laughed with a very peculiar kind of giggle
that made Glynnis feel extremely nervous. “But he’s dead now.” It
was the flattest, least animated voice Glynnis had ever heard him
use.

“
Look, Dorsey, I think I’d
better go.”

He grabbed her wrist, causing her to
try and squirm away. “No, no, don’t leave me, Glynnis. You already
left me once and look what happened to me. I’m a mess.”

She jerked away. “Dorsey, you left me,”
she shot back, furious at being manhandled. “I’ll be back in a
minute to drive you home. You’re too drunk to drive yourself.” She
stomped off toward the restroom and pulled out her cell phone.
Brice answered right away. Thank God.

“
Glynnis, where are
you?”

“
I’m okay Brice, don’t
worry. I met Dorsey here but he’s three sheets to the
wind.”

“
Glynn, don’t go anywhere
with him. Come home.”

“
He’s too drunk to do
anything. I’ve got to get him home.”

“
Then call a cab. Don’t go
with him, Glynnis. I mean it.” He didn’t mean for that last bit to
sound like a command. Brice softened his voice. “I’ll meet you
there in a few minutes.”

Glynnis didn’t like being told what to
do, but she knew Brice was right. “Okay,” she responded quietly.
“I’ll be here.”

*****

Brice hung up the phone, irritated with
Glynnis that she’d even consider meeting Timmons. Why couldn’t she
shake him? He was beginning to think Dorsey Timmons was more
competition than he could handle.

Addy was thrilled to death because
they’d gotten another hair at the Itzen crime scene that matched
the first two. “Guy must be going bald by now,” he’d said. “He’s
getting careless. They found several in the office. Wish we could
get a sample to compare them to from our killer.” He poured himself
a cup of coffee. “Oh, and there’s one more thing. I dug up a
connection between Aaron Shultz and the Itzen. He and the stepson,
Dylan Michaels, went to school together at Winthrop. While Shultz
got his undergrad in theatre, Michaels got his in English
Literature. They were on some kind of debate team together and they
were roommates for a semester. I got in touch with a guy that
roomed with Shultz the next semester. He lives here in town. He
told me that Shultz and Michaels hated each other’s guts. They
couldn’t get along for a second. That’s why Shultz finally moved in
with a new roommate.”

“
Not the best reason I can
think of to kill somebody’s stepdaddy.”

“
No, but it is a connection,
and I’m thinking there might be more to it. I’ll keep
digging.”

Brice told him about the sword
collector. “They’ll know who it is within the hour, we hope. Look,
Glynnis went off to meet that idiot, Timmons even though I asked
her to avoid him. She’s with him now at the Café Torte on Main.
Says he’s drunk and she’s getting him a taxi. You want to go with
me to meet her? I don’t think there’s any real danger there but I
just can’t risk it.”

“
Women!” Addy huffed.
“They’re all stubborn as a mule. You can’t tell ‘em nothing. Does
Hawkins know to call your cell phone?”

*****

Glynnis was irritated with
Dorsey for being such a loser and she was irritated with Brice for
being so high-handed, even if he was right. She phoned a taxi and
then returned to the table. Dorsey was gone. She almost said,
forget it, but what if he’d driven off and hit somebody?
Dang.
Glynnis tossed a
ten on the table, then walked around the corner, and spotted
Dorsey’s Mustang. Dorsey was passed out in the passenger
seat.
Way to go Dorsey.
When this is over, I’m done with you. Brice was
right, you are an idiot.
She relaxed a
little and walked over to the car, leaning in from the passenger’s
side where he sat with the window down. “Dorsey! Dorsey, wake up.”
He stirred a bit and then reached for her. “I’m putting you into a
taxi and…” Glynnis felt a cloth over her face, smelled a noxious
odor, and then the world disappeared.

*****

Brice and Addy arrived at the Café
Torte ten minutes after leaving the station. But neither Glynnis
nor Dorsey were anywhere to be found. Addy asked the manager about
the two while Brice called Glynn’s cell. “They were here, but the
manager didn’t see them leave and they didn’t pay their bill,” Addy
said, coming back outside.

“
No answer on Glynn’s cell,”
Brice told him. “Maybe she just drove him home.”

Addy looked at him with his bushy
eyebrows crunched. “Without paying the bill?”

Chapter 27

The room slowly came into focus.
Glynnis had an intense headache and couldn’t seem to orient
herself. She seemed to be alone but she couldn’t be sure because
her eyes wouldn’t focus completely and she couldn’t get her neck to
turn very far. She was lying down on a soft surface, a bed perhaps.
A strong odor hung in the air, an odor she should know…the smell of
swimming pools, chlorine…it was bleach. There was something in her
mouth. She was in a dark room. Uncertainty began to nag at her. The
room felt small and she couldn’t move…couldn’t breathe. She fought
against the claustrophobia that threatened her causing her to
breathe in shallow gasps through the gag. Her chest began to tight,
to constrict. It was too small, too dark in here. No, it wasn’t
exactly dark, just dim. She could just make out two small windows
on each side of the room, but they were both covered with thick
curtains. A floor lamp was illuminated in the far corner of the
room but the overhead light was out. Still, that was enough to calm
her breathing and lesson the feeling of being trapped in a tight
place. Glynnis could see sunlight slicing through the spaces
between the windows and the curtains, but it was late afternoon
sun, perhaps evening. How much time had she lost? Perversely, she
wondered if she’d missed out on Sissy’s wedding. What on earth was
going on? She’d been at the Café with Dorsey around four. Then
she’d gone to call a taxi to take him home. It got foggy from
there. Dorsey had been in a car…his car? Had he been asleep? Yes,
something like that. He’d been drunk so she’d called the taxi. Why
hadn’t she just driven him home? Brice…Brice had warned her against
it, and Dorsey had been acting strange, even strange for Dorsey on
a drunk.