Lights Out Tonight (6 page)

At the end of the meadow, Belinda stopped and called out into the woods.

There was no answer.

“Guuusss!” She tried again.

Still, no response.

She scanned the edge of the meadow, looking for a path of some kind that the golf cart might have taken into the woods, finally finding a narrow lane where the vegetation had been tamped down. Belinda hesitated for a moment. Should she just go back? She could leave a note for Gus or talk to him later.

No, she wanted to speak with him face-to-face and make sure he understood that she expected him to take care of things. She wanted him to know that the fact that she was seldom here didn’t mean she wasn’t paying attention to what was happening.
If she waited to talk to him until she got home from the theater tonight, it would be too late. Gus would probably be in bed, and she’d be too tired.

Belinda took another deep breath of the cool mountain air and stepped into the woods.

 C H A P T E R 
14

Keith Fallows stood on the empty stage, looked out at the vacant seats, and took a deep breath. Tomorrow night the house would be packed. Every single seat had been sold or reserved. There would be four hundred sets of eyes watching, four hundred brains analyzing and judging, four hundred hearts and souls being moved—or not.

For the director, preopening pressure was always tough, but with all he had riding on this play, the stress was even more grueling than usual. He prayed
Devil in the Details
would be the vehicle that would propel him, finally, into producing and directing movies.

Because of their long association at Warrenstown, Victoria Sterling had given him the opportunity to option her play. He had pounced on the chance, using most of his savings to do it. All winter and spring, Keith had refused directing projects, focusing
his entire energy on converting the stage play for the screen.

If this, the first stage production of
Devil in the Details,
was a hit, then Keith would be that much closer to getting the green light for a film version. But even if every reviewer raved about the show, it was far from a foregone conclusion that he could raise enough money to produce the film. For that, he needed Belinda Winthrop.

At the end of last summer, when Victoria had let them both read the play for the first time, Belinda had been mad for the role of Valerie, the wife of Davis, a man with no conscience. Keith had sat right beside Belinda and listened while she called her agent and instructed him to make sure she would be available in July for rehearsals and the first two weeks of August for the play itself. When Keith had confided his dream, to take
Devil in the Details
to Hollywood, Belinda had told him to count her in. Now she was reneging, claiming the role of Valerie was too draining and there were other projects she wanted to pursue.

Keith clenched his right hand into a fist and slammed it into the palm of his left. Belinda shouldn’t have given him permission to use her name as the presumptive leading lady of the movie unless she meant it. She shouldn’t have let him proceed, thinking that he could count on her. Keith had sunk his time, money, and reputation in this project, using her name as collateral to broker the financial backing for the film. Without Belinda Winthrop, the studio would pull the plug.

But Keith still held out hope that he could make her change her mind.

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15

Who said good things never made the news? This morning’s newspaper was full of happy information.

The autopsy reports on Amy and Tommy were in and showed marijuana in both their systems. The police were satisfied that the two Warrenstown Summer Playhouse apprentices had been under the influence of drugs when they catapulted off the road.

With the police satisfied, that would be the end of any investigation. The only thing that could open it again would be that damned picture Amy had e-mailed to her friend.

The killer went online, set up a bogus e-mail account that couldn’t be traced, and sent a carefully worded message.

DEAR FRIENDS OF AMY,

WE ARE GETTING PHONE CALLS FROM PEOPLE WANTING TO KNOW HOW THEY CAN HELP. WE APPRECIATE THE OUTPOURING OF LOVE AND SUPPORT WE ARE RECEIVING AT THIS HEARTBREAKING TIME.

IT’S IMPORTANT FOR US TO KNOW WHAT AMY WAS DOING RIGHT BEFORE SHE WAS TAKEN FROM US. IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION TO SHARE, PLEASE LET US KNOW BY REPLY E-MAIL. AMY’S FATHER AND I ARE JUST TOO UPSET TO TAKE PHONE CALLS AT THIS TIME. WE KNOW YOU’LL UNDERSTAND.

SINCERELY,

AMY’S MOM

The killer sent the message to only one friend. Brightlights.

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16

With the leaves of the tall oaks beginning to block out the morning sun, Belinda followed the path into the woods. The deeper she went, the darker it got. She started to feel uneasy. Maybe Gus wasn’t even in here. And God knew what kinds of animals or snakes were slithering around. Belinda was about to turn back when she saw the empty golf cart.

She began to call out Gus’s name but thought better of it. Something didn’t feel right. Belinda proceeded forward, trying not to make any noise. As she got closer to the cart, she noticed
an opening in the ground. She stooped down to look inside. A ladder was propped against the wall of a hole about the width of a man’s outstretched arms.

There was no way she was going down that thing alone.

As he reached the top of the ladder and his head popped over the edge of the opening to the underground cave, Gus caught sight of Belinda’s back hurrying out of the woods.

“I think I might have a problem with Gus,” Belinda said as she steered the Mercedes out of the driveway.

“What do you mean?” Victoria asked.

Belinda told her friend about the golf cart and the ladder and the hole in the ground.

“Well, he’s doing something out there, Belinda, but you can’t be sure at this point that it’s anything wrong. Want me to go check it out?”

Belinda considered the offer. “Maybe I should call the police,” she said.

“And what if the police come and find there’s a completely reasonable explanation? Then you’ve shown your caretaker that you don’t trust him,” said Victoria. “And you don’t want that, do you?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Look. When we get back later, pull out one of those maps of the property that Remington did and mark where the hole is. As soon as there’s some free time, I’ll go out there and take a look. Right now, you’ve got more important things to do,” Victoria said. “Your focus has to be on the play.”

The car traveled north along the winding two-lane road, reaching the Warrenstown traffic circle and bearing right. Belinda found a parking spot, and the two women got out and walked toward the brand-new theater building. As they reached the front steps, a pretty young blonde stood at the top holding the door open for them.

“Thanks, Langley,” said Belinda. Victoria said nothing until they were out of Langley’s earshot.

“I’m telling you, Belinda, that one wants to be you,” said Victoria. “It’s written all over her. She’s so damned obsequious. It’s disgusting.”

Belinda smiled. “Oh, give her a break, Victoria. Langley is just a kid.”

“A kid who watches your every move.”

“That’s because she’s my understudy.”

“No,” Victoria insisted. “That’s because she wants your life.”

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17

Caroline couldn’t stop staring out the car window at the rolling farmland and majestic mountains in the distance. The view of seemingly endless, undeveloped acreage was such a welcome respite from worrying about her stepdaughter, her boss, and whether or not this crew was going to give her a hard time.

Eventually, she forced herself to pull the manila folder from her bag and began to read through the contents. She’d gotten the article from the KEY News reference library. It was a
Vanity Fair
piece on Belinda Winthrop that had run almost two years ago. It outlined Belinda’s most famous roles on stage and screen. There were pictures of her beachfront home in Malibu, her chalet in Gstaad, her brownstone in Greenwich Village, and her vast country estate in Warrenstown, Massachusetts.

The article went on to describe Belinda’s passion for detail. How she decorated each home herself, selecting furnishings in styles appropriate to their locations. It also told of her penchant for entertaining and described some of the parties she had given over the years. Belinda, the article said, loved to give theme parties, often coordinated with a role she was playing.

To celebrate her role in
Treasure Trove,
Belinda had given a
treasure hunt. Caroline studied the artist’s rendering of Belinda’s Massachusetts estate that accompanied the article. The map, executed by the famed Winthrop portraitist Remington Peters, was marked with tiny stars indicating spots where Belinda’s party guests had to go for clues to where the treasure was buried. X’s—there seemed to be a dozen or so—warned of holes leading to underground caves that the guests should be careful of.

Caroline highlighted the following passage:

WINTHROP’S RUN OF TRIUMPHS WAS INTERRUPTED THIS PAST SUMMER BY TRAGEDY. FOLLOWING THE TREASURE TROVE PARTY FOR THE WARRENSTOWN SUMMER PLAYHOUSE COMPANY AND PROMINENT LOCALS HELD AT CURTAINS UP, WINTHROP’S HOUSE-GUEST AND LONGTIME FRIEND DANIEL STERLING, WIDELY CONSIDERED THE DOMINANT HALF OF THE VICTORIA AND DANIEL STERLING PLAYWRITING TEAM, DIED IN A CAR ACCIDENT. STERLING, WHO HAD DIABETES, COULD HAVE BEEN SUFFERING THE EFFECTS OF THE DISEASE WHEN HIS CAR WENT OFF A DESERTED MOUNTAIN ROAD AND OVERTURNED IN A DITCH IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, BUT HIS WIFE SAID HER HUSBAND HAD TOLD HER HE FOUGHT WITH ONE OF THE PARTY GUESTS, THOUGH HE WOULDN’T TELL HER WHO. CLAIMING HE WAS TOO UPSET TO SLEEP, HE LEFT THE ESTATE TO COOL OFF WITH A CAR RIDE THROUGH THE BERKSHIRE MOUNTAINS.

THE PARTY GUESTS, AMONG THEM BROADWAY DIRECTOR KEITH FALLOWS, SCREENWRITER NICK MCGREGOR, AND ACCLAIMED ARTIST REMINGTON PETERS, WERE QUESTIONED BY POLICE, BUT STERLING’S DEATH WAS DECLARED AN ACCIDENT.

Caroline re-capped the highlighter and looked out the window again.

Nick had been questioned about Daniel Sterling’s death? Why hadn’t he ever mentioned that? He knew she was doing a story on Belinda Winthrop. Why hadn’t he volunteered that he’d been at the party at her house the night Daniel Sterling died? That wasn’t something you’d forget.

“I’m hungry.” Caroline’s thoughts were interrupted by Boomer’s voice.

“Not again, Boom.” Lamar groaned.

“To tell you the truth, guys, I wouldn’t mind stopping either,” said Caroline. “We’re almost there, so let’s get some lunch. And I want to pick up a copy of the local paper.”