Never Thwart a Thespian: Volume 8 (Leigh Koslow Mystery Series) (26 page)

She had considered going home and then returning with Warren and Ethan, but it was too late now and her house too far away to do much except turn around and drive right back. Besides, despite her lingering qualms about the building, the current atmosphere of anticipation and excitement was pleasantly contagious. Deciding to partake of a little food herself — her aunt had offered, after all — she left the vestibule where Bess had stationed the “box office” and headed for the annex kitchen. She walked past the make-up room, which emitted the distinctive smell of hot curling irons and hair spray, and watched as one actress swore at a fake eyelash while an actor insisted he did
not
need eyeliner. The room rocked with laughter, and Leigh felt a pang of jealousy at the cast’s easy camaraderie. Maybe she could get back into acting herself… someday.

The next two classrooms had their glass windows covered over and bore paper signs that read — in Bess’s neatly flowery script —
Men’s Dressing Room
and
Women’s Dressing Room.
The signs had been up since the afternoon before the dress rehearsal, when the Pack had helped to hang them. But the pink sign on the third door down was new, and Leigh stopped to examine it.

The Blessing Room.

Her eyebrows rose. No one else in the hallway seemed to have noticed the sign yet. But she recognized this as the room into which Camille and her mysterious bins had disappeared earlier. Tentatively, she knocked.

“Who’s there?” came a sing-song soprano voice.

“It’s Leigh,” she answered. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, you may,” the voice sang back.

Leigh slowly pushed open the door, then sucked in a breath. On a card table in front of her sat a single candle, a china bowl full of water, a dish of chocolates, and a rose. Behind the table stood Camille, radiant in a full-length cobalt blue gown, her silver hair shining and her face beaming. All around her, posed in a semicircle, was a veritable forest of stuffed animals, including a reclining tiger and a four-foot giraffe.

Camille giggled at Leigh’s reaction and clapped her hands. “It’s adorable, isn’t it? My own idea! The time before a show can be so stressful, you know. So I thought, what better to calm one’s nerves than cute, fluffy toys and the well wishes of a loving friend and compatriot? And of course, chocolate is good for
everything.
I have herbal tea brewing over in the corner, too!”

Leigh struggled for words. “It’s very… creative.”

“I know!” Camille agreed. “Can I practice on you? I’m just about to invite the actors in!”

“Um…” Though Leigh’s first instinct was to turn and run, she had to admit she was curious. “Sure.”

Camille giggled again. “All right. First I welcome you, then the blessing of peace!” She picked up the rose, dipped it in the water, and touched it to Leigh’s forehead. “This is water from the Ohio River. Very pure and natural.”

Leigh fought back a chuckle. She couldn’t remember ever hearing the words “pure and natural” in the same sentence as “Ohio River” before.

“Now at this point,” Camille explained, “I’ll tell the actors how special they all are to me, and what a great job they’re doing. But of course I don’t know you, so we’ll just skip that part, okay? Then I offer you a chocolate and tea and we spend some time chatting, and then I do an exit blessing and the next person comes in. What do you think?”

Leigh wondered if she was actually being offered the chocolate. She decided that she was and took a piece. It was shaped like a rose. “I think it’s very creative and caring,” she praised, trying not to let the stuffed animals creep her out. Camille seemed to mean well; it wasn’t her fault that Leigh was a little touchy lately on the subject of bizarre rituals.

“Thanks for the chocolate,” Leigh said, meaning it. She turned to leave.

“Would you invite one of the actors in, please?” Camille called after her. “Just give me a second to grab the tea and then I’ll be ready. Tell them I’d like to see them all, one at a time!”

“Will do,” Leigh agreed.

“Oh, wait! I need to see Elizabeth, too.
Especially
her. She’s seemed so terribly stressed lately, and she’s worked so hard for the society to make all this happen. Would you let her know?”

Elizabeth
again, Leigh thought curiously. No one called Bess that, at least not since Leigh’s grandmother had died. And Grandma Morton only used the name when she was angry. Leigh wondered if Camille’s refusal to use nicknames was universal, or if she was trying to needle Bess, subconsciously or otherwise.

Leigh nodded and opened the door.

“Thank you, Leanna!” Camille called merrily. “Or is it Coralee? Or Alicia?”

“Just Leigh,” she replied, her curiosity satisfied. She stepped out, shut the door behind her, and crossed into the kitchen. Then she grabbed half a sub, put it on a paper plate, and returned to the makeup room. “Camille wants to see all of you in the ‘Blessing Room’ down the hall,” she reported. “One at a time, she says.”

To her surprise, the cast members showed no surprise at all. “Is the giraffe there?” the bearded actor quipped as he smoothed foundation into his hairline. “I swear I won’t go if there’s no giraffe.”

The others laughed good-naturedly. “Be nice,” one of the actresses chastised. She looked at Leigh. “Did she bring the homemade chocolates? The little rose ones?”

Leigh nodded.

The group cheered its approval, and the actress who had asked the question scooted back her chair and rose with a flourish. “All right, I’m in. Make a note that I went first this year. Write that down, Sam.”

She smacked the shoulder of a younger man who was wiping off some ill-placed rouge, and he responded without looking up. “
See You in Bells,
first victim: Carolyn. Got it.”

Leigh backed out of the room. Clearly, everyone in the Thespian Society was well aware of, and not unduly bothered by, Camille’s quirks. Perhaps Leigh shouldn’t be, either.

Still carrying the plate with her sub, she went off to look for Bess. She didn’t want to eat alone. In this building, she didn’t want to
be
alone.

She found her aunt in the sanctuary, busily instructing a small army of ushers, crewmen, and anyone else handy in the art of constructing the programs. Evidently Bess had produced the handouts on the cheap, because the pages were all in separate boxes and not yet stapled together. Ned and Chaz had both been recruited upon their return, and Leigh couldn’t help but smile at the men’s attempts at formal wear. Chaz wore jeans and a striped shirt and tie in contrasting shades of purple, while Ned wore tired-looking workpants, a white button-down shirt with no tie, and a crumpled sports jacket. As soon as Bess seemed content that she had a functional assembly line going, she stepped away toward Leigh. As always, the guard stepped with her.

“We’re in the home stretch now, kiddo!” she beamed. “How’s the cast? Everyone all right over there?”

“Peachy,” Leigh responded, swallowing her last bite of sandwich. “I’m supposed to tell you that Camille wants to see you in the Blessing Room.”

Bess’s eyes rolled. “Please tell me she didn’t set up those giant tiki torches again!”

The bite of sandwich went down the wrong way. Leigh coughed. “Um… I only saw one candle,” she reported.

“Well, thank God for small favors,” Bess retorted, her face anxious again. “When she directed
One Foot in Heaven
at Harvest Presbyterian she nearly burned the place down! I know she means well, but with everything else going on tonight I do wish the woman would just disappear — at least until intermission! Her nonsense is so distracting for the actors and I can’t run interference for them and run the house at the same—”

She broke off in mid thought as she noticed the frazzled usher who had appeared at her elbow, followed closely by a nearly unrecognizable Merle and Earl. Merle was wearing a tight dress of plum-colored silk, a wig in an unnatural shade of red, worn black flats, and uneven patches of brown on her legs that Leigh was pretty sure marked a spray tan. Earl was spiffed up in a suit with baby-blue suspenders and a bolo tie, and his walker was decked out with a blue bandana. The couple looked from Bess to Leigh and grinned from ear to ear.

“We made it!” Merle enthused.

“Where are we sitting?” Earl asked.

The usher frowned at Bess. “They insist they’re supposed to get in for free. I told them okay if you said so, but the box office isn’t open yet, much less the house. And they—”

“Well, that’s perfectly all right! They’re my special guests, of course,” Bess said with a smile. She turned to Merle and Earl. “You just take a seat anywhere that’s comfortable. The magic won’t begin for a while now, but if you’d like to see how the preparations go, feel free!”

“We’d like that very much,” Merle said eagerly.

“We’ll just be flies on the wall,” Earl agreed.

Leigh felt a vibration in her pocket, accompanied by the muted sound of a siren.

“But Bess,” the usher dared argue. “Didn’t you tell us that absolutely nobody—”

“Well, I changed my mind,” Bess commanded, flashing a parting smile at the older couple as she hustled the usher away.

Leigh stepped to the side and pulled out her phone. The siren ringtone meant a call from Maura.

Her summons had come.

***

“Thanks for this,” Maura said gratefully, taking a gigantic bite out of the chipped ham sandwich Leigh had just delivered. “Gerry left me something, but I had a hankering for Isaly’s.”

“No problem,” Leigh said, dropping into the chair at the detective’s bedside. “But I can’t stay long. Aunt Bess would never forgive me if I was late for the big opening. Where is Gerry, anyway? I’m surprised he left you alone.”

“I’m not alone,” Maura mumbled with her mouth full. She swallowed and pointed to the cell phone on her nightstand. “The neighbors are home and on full alert. Plus, thanks to your thoughtful daughter, I have these guys.”

Maura pointed to a small cardboard box sitting on the table on the other side of her bed. Leigh walked around and peered into it. Two tiny black pups, with closed eyes and fur like velvet, slept peacefully in a huddle amidst a nest of towels heated by a circulating water blanket.

“Allison brought the puppies
here?”
Leigh asked incredulously. “Why?”

“She said, ‘nothing makes you feel more calm and peaceful than watching a newborn sleep,’” Maura quoted, smiling. “She’s right, you know. Every time I think about you and Bess rattling around that old church playing Hercule Poirot, I just take one look at these guys, and the old ticker slows right down.”

“We are
not
playing—” Leigh shut herself up with a frown. “I mean, I’m sorry the situation is stressing you out.”

Maura’s expression turned serious. “Yeah, so am I. Listen, Koslow. I don’t like what I’ve been hearing today. I don’t like it at all.”

Leigh returned to her chair and slouched down. “You and me both.”

“About tonight,” Maura began. “Stroth was hoping to hang around the theater and see what else he could pick up, but he got stuck with another homicide this afternoon. It’s making me crazy — I
know
these background checks would give us what we need, but I can’t access the information from here, and my being laid up so long has got the department so shorthanded I can’t get anybody else to do it, either.”

Leigh winced to see the familiar worry lines returning to her friend’s brow. “Maybe you should take another look at those puppies.”

Maura leaned over and peered into the box. She put in one finger to stroke a pup, then smiled. “Yeah, that does help.”

“Is there anything else I can do?” Leigh asked. “At the building, or… you’re not supposed to feed them, are you?”

Maura shook her head. “Nope. Your dad is sending one of the techs over to do that. All I have to do is babysit them until after the show.” She turned to Leigh. “And I
don’t
want you to do anything about this case, either. But there is something I need to tell you. Actually, two things.”

Leigh braced herself.

“First off, a little good news. Sonia Crane is much better. She’s alert and clear headed, and she’s not accusing Bess of anything.”

Leigh released a breath. “That’s good. Does she know who hit her?”

Maura shook her head. “It’s pretty clear she never saw them. It’s also pretty clear that she still wants the building. And she wants it bad.”

“Are you kidding me?” Leigh asked. “Still? What’s she been saying?”

Maura didn’t answer the question. “You want the specifics on that, you’ll have to ask Gordon Applegate. But I can tell you this. No one in the department has told Sonia Crane — or anyone else — about your little adventure with the coal chute this morning. So unless Gordon or one of you told her, she still doesn’t know.”

Leigh slouched further down in her chair. “I see.”

“Who else knows about it?”

“Nobody,” Leigh answered. “At least, Bess and I haven’t told anyone. Ned was there, and he could have said something, but Bess told him it was a squirrel bone and I’m pretty sure he believed her. I don’t know about Gordon, but I can’t see why he would tell anyone, as much as he hates bad publicity. Not even Allison knows — although I can say that with certainty
only
because she wasn’t physically in the building at the time. Give her five minutes inside the doors tonight and she’ll pick it up by sheer osmosis.”

Leigh looked up at Maura with a miserable expression. “I was kind of hoping this would be the part where you tell me I’m overreacting and that what I found was nothing but a petrified candy cigarette.”

Maura shook her head slowly. “Sorry, Koslow. No can do.”

Crap.
“You got the lab results back?”

“No,” Maura answered calmly. “But what you found wasn’t the only thing left behind in the rubble.”

Leigh sank even further into her chair. “Tell me,” she moaned.

“Three more very small bones, most likely fingers or toes,” Maura answered. “And part of a vertebra.”

“A vertebra?” Leigh asked weakly. “How big—”

“Let’s just say it’d make one damned scary squirrel.”