Read It and Weep (A Library Lover's Mystery) (10 page)

“W
hat?” Sully asked. “No, I didn’t! What would make you even think a thing like that?”

“Well, he was moving in on your girl,” Charlie said.

“Oh, my god, do you not have a filter for that mouth?” Lindsey asked him.

She snatched her bike from Sully and wheeled it through the side door of the garage. When she came back out, Sully was glaring at Charlie, who was looking sheepish.

“It’s just—” Charlie began but Lindsey held up her hand to stop him before he said something even more incredibly stupid.

“Come on, Heathcliff,” Charlie said. “Looks like I’m sharing your doghouse.”

Heathcliff jumped on Sully one more time before following Charlie into the house.

“Sorry about that,” Lindsey said.

“No need for you to be,” Sully said. “Charlie leads with his mouth. That’s what makes him such a good rock singer.”

Lindsey smiled. “Well, thanks again for the ride.”

“Anytime,” he said.

She gave him a small wave and turned and headed to the house. Maybe if nothing else, she and Sully were reestablishing their friendship. The thought made the heaviness in her chest ease just the tiniest bit. But then she thought of Robbie and she felt taken out at the knees once again. How could someone as vibrant as Robbie Vine be dead?

• • •

“L
indsey, wake up!” a voice called, accompanied by a fist pounding on her apartment door.

Heathcliff bounded off of the bed and out of the bedroom, and skidded across the wooden floor of the living room to the front door, barking all the way.

Lindsey squinted at the clock. It was seven o’clock in the morning but it felt like the middle of the night. Sleep had been impossible last night and she hadn’t drifted off until the wee hours of the morning.

“Lindsey!” the voice called again.

She was wearing her favorite blue-and-green-plaid pajama bottoms with a matching solid green top. She glanced down and decided she was decent enough to let in whoever was outside and so followed Heathcliff to the door.

“Who is it?” she called.

“Charlie.”

Definitely decent enough; Charlie had seen her in her jammies a million times.

She unlatched the chain and turned the deadbolt. She pulled the door open and Heathcliff shot out to greet Charlie with a hug around the knees and some furious wagging of his tail.

“Hey there, boy,” Charlie said as he scratched Heathcliff’s ears.

“What is it, Charlie? Is Nancy okay?”

“No, Nancy is fine,” he said. “She’s already over at Violet’s, going full mother hen on her.”

Lindsey nodded.

“But you have to turn on the news,” he said. “Emma Plewicki is about to give a press conference about Robbie Vine’s death.”

“Oh! Oh!” Lindsey turned and hurried back into her apartment. She grabbed her remote and flipped on the local news channel.

Sure enough, there was live footage of Emma Plewicki at the police station. Lindsey turned up the volume.

“At seven forty-seven last night,” Emma said, “Mr. Robert Vine took ill while performing on the Briar Creek Community Theater stage.”

The sound of cameras snapping pictures of Emma buzzed like a swarm of angry bees. Lindsey was pleased to see that Emma kept her composure. Charlie came to stand beside her.

“She’s representin’,” he said as he nodded with approval.

Lindsey gave him a sideways look and turned back to the television.

“Mr. Vine was rushed to the hospital for further treatment,” Emma said. “I want to assure his adoring fans that everything has been done to give Mr. Vine the best possible care. Because we have been unable to locate Mr. Vine’s immediate family, we ask that you respect their privacy until we can fully inform them of the situation.”

“Chief Plewicki, was it a drug overdose?” one reporter shouted.

“I am not at liberty to discuss the case any further,” she said. She was very firm, and Lindsey was proud to see her shut down the reporters without losing her cool.

“Was it a self-inflicted condition or do you suspect foul play?” another reporter asked.

“Again, I can give no further details until I have been in communication with his family,” she said.

The reporters continued to shout questions at her even as Emma walked away from the front desk at the station and back into her office.

A reporter, Kili Peters, stepped in front of the camera. She was a blonde bubblehead whom Lindsey had had the misfortune to have stalking the library several months back when Beth’s ex-boyfriend had been slain. Lindsey was not a fan.

“Well, there you have it,” Kili said. “Robbie Vine was rushed to the hospital last night. Reports from people on the scene say that he took his last breath on the stage, but this has yet to be confirmed by the police. It sounds as if it won’t be until they can locate his family.”

“Thank you, Kili,” the male news anchor said. “Please keep us up to date as the story unfolds.”

“Will do, Jim,” Kili said. “This is Kili Peters, reporting live from Briar Creek.”

Lindsey switched off the television and turned to face Charlie. “What do they mean they can’t locate his family? Wouldn’t that be Kitty?”

“According to Nancy, it’s actually his mother they’re trying to get into contact with,” Charlie said. “She’s on vacation in Italy and they’re hoping to reach her before the news media does.”

“Oh, poor thing,” Lindsey said. “What a horrible way to find out that your son is dead by having a reporter scream it at you while they try to take your photograph.”

“Agreed,” Charlie said. “So, how are you doing?”

“Fine; no, that’s a lie,” she said. She pulled out the fixings for coffee and held them up. Charlie nodded, and Lindsey began to brew a double pot of coffee. “I feel like road kill actually.”

“You liked Robbie,” he said. He sat at the counter and watched her while she scooped coffee into the filter.

“He was very likable,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie said.

“Me, too. I’m more worried about Violet and Charlene, however. I got the distinct impression that Robbie was like family for them. They have to be devastated.”

“What do you think will happen to the theater if they cancel the show?” Charlie asked. “I mean, don’t they need the advertising and ticket sale revenue to keep the mortgage paid on the theater?”

“They do,” Lindsey said. “But maybe the bank will be forgiving in light of the tragedy.”

Charlie gave her a flat stare as she poured his coffee. “Yeah, because banks are really known for that.”

Lindsey sighed as she poured her own cup. The boy had a point. So now, on top of losing her friend, poor Violet was probably going to lose her theater as well.

• • •

A
meeting was called for all of the cast and crew for seven o’clock that evening. Lindsey was one of the last to arrive, as she’d gotten caught up with helping Mrs. Fisk research the legal forms she needed to give her daughter power of attorney when she died.

Mrs. Fisk was nowhere near death. She was only fifty-five, but she was a nervous sort who liked to have everything in order just in case.

As Lindsey walked her bike from the library to the theater, she couldn’t really fault Mrs. Fisk. Given that Robbie, who had only been in his late thirties, was now dead, it was pretty clear that you never knew when your number was up and it was good to be prepared. Lindsey wondered who would inherit Robbie’s fortune. If Kitty was his beneficiary, it certainly gave her a heck of a motive to kill him.

She locked up her bike and then slipped through the door to take a seat with the rest of the crew. Mary and Nancy were sitting with Ian and Sully. The cast was sitting closer to the stage, and she could just make out Beth’s spiky black hair in the second row.

Violet was in front of the stage. She looked pale and tired, and Lindsey imagined that she hadn’t gotten much, if any, sleep.

“How’s she holding up?” Lindsey asked.

“As well as can be expected,” Nancy said.

“Good evening, everyone,” Violet said. “Thank you all for coming.”

There were murmured greetings in return. Lindsey scanned the room to see who had shown up. She saw Lola sitting down in front with the cast, but there was no sign of Kitty. She wondered if Robbie’s wife was too grief struck to attend or if she had been detained by the police.

“Now, I know that most of you have heard the rumor that Robbie is dead. I’m sad to say it is true.” Violet paused. There were a few mutters, but mostly the room absorbed the news without surprise.

“I imagine many of you think that without Robbie, we will cancel the show,” Violet said. “But I refuse to do that. I’m sure you have all heard the stories that Robbie’s death was no accident. Well, I’m here to tell you that those rumors are also true.”

A gasp rippled through the crowd. Surprised, Lindsey returned her attention to Violet. She didn’t think that Emma had announced the cause of Robbie’s death and she was surprised that Violet was saying anything that hadn’t been confirmed by the police as yet. Then again, Robbie had been a close personal friend to Violet, so her grief was probably getting the better of her.

Like the others, Lindsey had assumed the show would be canceled. She noted, however, that Violet’s posture had changed in the past few minutes. She wasn’t hunched over with sadness anymore. Instead, she was standing tall with her chin tilted up.

“Robbie was taken from us, and the loss of my friend to me and to the theater world is almost too much to bear.” Violet’s voice broke and she paused to collect herself. “But I refuse to cower and crumble from this sick and twisted act of treachery. Robbie and I performed together on some of the greatest stages in the world, and I know that he would not want me to cancel this show. In fact, he will probably haunt me if I do.”

A ripple of muted whispers raced through the room.

“And so, I propose that we put on
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
for Robbie, in his memory and in his name. We will honor him with the greatest performance of our lives.”

The room erupted into applause and Violet struck a triumphant pose at the front and center of the stage.

Lindsey turned surprised eyes on Nancy and Mary. They did not look as surprised, and Lindsey figured that Violet had already told Nancy her plans. Ian and Sully didn’t look surprised, either, and Lindsey wondered if she was the only one out of the loop.

“Dylan,” Violet addressed the teen sitting next to Beth. “Are you willing to step out of your role as understudy and take on the role of Puck?”

Lindsey saw him turn to Beth with wide eyes as if asking her if he could do it. Beth nodded and he turned back to Violet and said, “Yes, for Mr. Vine, I’ll do my best.”

“Excellent,” Violet said. She beamed at the group and said, “Well, let’s get started. We have a lot of work to do.”

As one, the crowd rose from their seats. There was a dull roar of chatter and it was a moment before one lone voice rang out over the crowd.

“Ms. La Rue,” a man’s voice called repeatedly. “Ms. La Rue!”

Violet turned away from Dylan, who had climbed up onto the stage to stand beside her, and faced the person in the theater.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Is it true, Ms. La Rue, that Robbie Vine was poisoned to death and died right here on this stage?”

“W
ho is that?” Violet asked. She was squinting against the light that was shining onto the stage from the balcony.

“It’s me, your old pal Harvey,” he said. “So, is it true?”

“Harvey Wargus?” she asked. “How did you get in here? This rehearsal is closed to the public, and I thought I made it clear that you are not welcome in my theater.”

“You said Robbie was taken from you,” Harvey continued. “Do you believe the preliminary reports that he was poisoned?”

“You’ll have to confirm that with the authorities,” Violet said. Her face was flushed, and Lindsey could tell she was angry. “Please leave, Harvey.”

“But I’m sure Robbie’s fans will be so moved to hear about you dedicating this show to his memory,” Harvey said. “Would you care to give me an exclusive about your feelings on your friend’s death—you know, for old time’s sake?”

“Get out,” Violet snapped.

“Aw, what’s the matter, Violet? Are you afraid your little theater won’t survive the scandal?” Harvey actually cackled with a manic delight. “Tell me, who do you think did the egotistical no-talent in, anyway? Surely you have some ideas.”

His words were cut off as Sully caught him by the back of the collar and hoisted him out of the seating area. With one hand on the back of his shirt and one on the back of his pants, he carted Harvey to the side door, which Ian helpfully opened. With one great heave, Sully tossed him out and Ian let the door slam back into position.

“All right, Violet?” Sully asked.

“Never better,” she said and she gave him a tight smile.

Ian and Sully headed down the hall that led to the back of the stage and the loading dock to resume work on the set.

“Come on,” Nancy said as she looped her arm through Lindsey’s. “We have a new Puck to outfit.”

Mary, Nancy and Lindsey were in the back room working on the costumes when Lindsey paused and frowned at the other two.

“Is it just me or do you think it’s weird that Harvey asked Violet about the theater being able to survive the scandal?”

“Harvey Wargus is a liver-spotted wart on a toad’s bottom,” Nancy said.

Mary laughed. “Nice bardesque put-down.”

“Thank you,” Nancy said. “But honestly, the man is vile. He hated Robbie and he hates Violet, and he’d like nothing more than to see them suffer.”

“Well, one down then,” Mary said.

“Do you think he might have killed Robbie?” Lindsey asked. “And if so, will he go after Violet next?”

“No,” Nancy said, and then her eyes widened. “Maybe.”

“I think we need to keep an eye on her,” Lindsey said.

“Agreed,” Mary said. “In fact, I’ll go out there right now. I can hem this doublet in the theater while they rehearse.”

She gathered her supplies and draped the costume over her shoulder.

“I’ll make sure Ian and Sully are in the loop,” she said. The door shut behind her, and Lindsey turned to face Nancy.

“I hope I’m just being paranoid,” she said.

“No, I don’t think so,” Nancy said. “And even if you are, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“I suppose,” she said. “I’ll go tell Beth what’s going on. The more people keeping an eye on Violet, the better.”

Lindsey made her way backstage. She found Beth with Heather and Perry and the new cast member who had taken Dylan’s place as one of the lesser fairies. They were going over their blocking for Act II.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Lindsey said. “Beth, can I talk to you?”

“Sure,” she said. “Walk Molly through it, guys, and I’ll be right back.”

She and Lindsey moved out of the way of the actors playing Theseus and Hippolyta. Beth watched them go by with a wistful look, and Lindsey wondered if it was because she wanted the part of Hippolyta or because Hippolyta had a fine-looking partner in Theseus.

“So, how goes the costuming?” Beth asked. “Do you need help?”

“No, thankfully Mary and Nancy really have it under control.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I saw your donkey mask, and I was impressed.”

“Please. It looks like a gray waffle with ears,” Lindsey said. Beth laughed and Lindsey smiled. “But I’m confident I can bend it to my will before the dress rehearsal.”

“That’s my girl,” Beth said. “So, how can I help?”

“Actually, I was hoping you could help keep an eye on Violet,” Lindsey said.

Beth raised her eyebrows and Lindsey explained what she had discussed with Nancy and Mary.

“Do you really think this is about more than Robbie?” Beth asked.

“I don’t know,” Lindsey said. “I know there were a lot of people who had issues with him, but murder seems awfully harsh. I wonder if it isn’t bigger than that, like maybe someone wants the theater gone or they want revenge.”

“But if what you’re saying is true, then you think Violet could be next,” Beth said.

“I’m afraid she might be,” Lindsey said. “That Wargus guy sure seems to have it in for her, and Sterling Buchanan did hire him to cover the show. Maybe there is more going on here than even Violet is aware of.”

“Whoa,” Beth said. “Well, count me in. I won’t let her out of my sight.”

“And make sure she doesn’t eat or drink anything unless she knows its point of origin.”

Beth nodded. Then she looked at Lindsey. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay,” Lindsey said. “Feels weird without him here though, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, he brought a certain energy to the theater that is sadly lacking now.”

“How is Dylan doing?”

“Like a duck to water,” Beth said. “It was great that Robbie spent so much time working with him before. It’ll make the transition into the bigger part much easier for him.”

“How about his mother?” Lindsey asked. “She seemed unhappy that he was spending so much time here.”

“She was in earlier and seemed quite proud that he had such an important role. Maybe now that he’s one of the stars, she approves.”

“Ah.” Lindsey nodded. “Maybe she has a bit of the stage mother in her.”

“Oh, I hope not,” Beth said. “We already have Heather’s mother trying to push her into a bigger part. She even tried to have Heather take the role of Puck.”

“How does Heather feel about it?”

“Mortified,” Beth said. “She’s happy with her bit part.”

“Poor kid.”

“It’s okay. Violet can manage the stagestruck mom,” Beth said. “So far, she’s sent her for coffee, had her painting sets and last I saw she sent her on an errand to go look for a scepter for Oberon.”

“I thought Nancy already had one.”

Beth shrugged.

“Fairies, front and center,” Violet called out from the stage.

“Gotta go,” Beth said and she squeezed Lindsey’s arm. “Don’t worry, I can keep a good eye on Violet from the stage.”

“Thanks,” Lindsey said.

She left the backstage area and made her way to the hallway. As she turned the corner, she bumped into Lola, who was leaning against the wall, looking lost.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Lindsey steadied herself on the wall. “I didn’t see you.”

“No one ever sees me,” Lola mumbled. Then she burst into tears.

Lindsey glanced around the dimly lit hallway, hoping someone, anyone, would show up. The place was as abandoned as a graveyard.

“It’ll be okay, really,” she said. “It just takes time.”

“You don’t understand. No one cared about me like Robbie did,” Lola sniffed. “He looked after me. Now I have no one.”

Lindsey looked at the woman next to her. She was a dark-haired beauty who had the helpless and vulnerable thing down pat. Is that what Robbie had seen in her?

“Oh, please,” a voice said from the end of the hall. “Robbie’s dead. There’s no one to come to your rescue. Surely you can cease the waterworks now.”

Lola wailed louder, and Kitty strode toward them in knee-high black leather boots, a miniskirt and a sweater that dipped low in the front and hugged her figure tight.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Lola sobbed. “What Robbie and I had was real; you were just his business partner.”

“That’s right,” Kitty said. “I managed his career. I made all of our lives better because of my fabulous business sense, but without Robbie, my business no longer exists. So, if anyone should be crying, it would be me—which is exactly what I told the police and why they let me go.”

Lindsey gave her a surprised look, and Kitty glared at her.

“What?” she asked. “Did you think I busted out of jail?”

“No, but being the spouse . . .” Lindsey’s voice trailed off.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the chief suspect,” Kitty said. “I got that. Fortunately, even the pea-brained police in this podunk town can see that as Robbie’s manager, it really made no sense for me to kill him. Sort of like cutting off my right arm. Stupid.”

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t do it,” Lola said. “It could have been a crime of passion. You just couldn’t bear that he loves me now.”

“Ha!” Kitty let out a mirthless laugh. “In case you didn’t notice, dearie, Robbie was already looking to replace you. Or did the fact that he dumped your lame ass escape you?”

“He didn’t dump me!” Lola wailed. “He just wanted to take a break. Lots of couples do that.”

“You’re pathetic,” Kitty sneered. “If Robbie wanted a break, it means he was done with you. In fact, I do believe it was our lovely librarian here who caught his eye.”

“No, I—” Lindsey protested but Lola’s crying drowned out her words.

“He would have gotten sick of her,” Lola said. She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “She’s not a theater person. Robbie never liked anyone outside of the theater. He said they didn’t understand our world. She was just a plaything to him.”

“Plaything?” Lindsey asked. Now she was getting irritated.

“Now you’ve done it,” Kitty said. “You’ve made the book nerd mad.”

“I’m not mad,” Lindsey said.

“Then why is your face red?” Kitty asked.

“It’s hot in here,” Lindsey said.

“And getting hotter,” Kitty taunted her. “So, were you interested in Robbie? Did you fancy yourself as his next girlfriend?”

“No!” Lindsey protested. “He was charming, but I had no intention of dating him.”

“I don’t believe you,” Lola said. She had stopped crying and was eyeing Lindsey like she’d like to do her some harm. “Everyone loved Robbie. Women were always throwing themselves at him, even when he was with me.”

“Same here,” Kitty said. “Even when our marriage was happy, which, all told, was about six months long, women would chase him down the street, show up naked at our front door, send him expensive presents.”

“Remember that one woman who tried to kidnap him?” Lola asked.

“That was on your watch,” Kitty said.

“I know, but who expected a team of men to shimmy down from a hovering helicopter and scoop him up from the breakfast table?” Lola asked. “I really wasn’t prepared for that.”

“What happened?” Lindsey asked in awe.

“Some rich woman decided that Robbie was going to be her shiny new toy,” she said. “He had to make a run for it.”

“But he got away?” Lindsey asked.

“Oh yeah,” Kitty said. “He just had to go hide out for a while. You wouldn’t believe some of the crazy things women do to get noticed.” She paused and looked at Lindsey. “Maybe that’s why he took a shine to you. You’re not like that.”

“Thanks, I think,” Lindsey said. The three of them were silent for a moment. Lindsey was trying to wrap her head around the stories Lola and Kitty told her and the strange relationship they seemed to share.

“What are you two going to do now?” Lindsey asked.

“Well, the police have told us we can’t leave town until they’re done with the investigation,” Kitty said. “So, we will perform in the play just like we would have, and I will handle the business end of things just like I did before Robbie—”

For the first time, Kitty showed a flash of vulnerability, but she scrunched up her face and took a deep, fortifying breath.

“Come on, sad sack, we need to rehearse,” she said. She took Lola by the arm and hauled her up the stairs toward the stage.

Lindsey watched them go. Could Kitty have killed Robbie in a jealous fit? It seemed unlikely, but maybe she had a financial motive. What about Lola? She was obviously still in love with Robbie; if he had tried to break it off with her, she might have killed him out of spite.

Then again, all of the incidents with Robbie had happened at the theater. If it had been Kitty or Lola, wouldn’t she have killed him where she had easy access to him, like in the house they were all renting? Unless, of course, killing him at the theater gave them an alibi of sorts.

And what about the crazy female fans they talked about? If a woman was crazy enough to try to kidnap a man, certainly she might turn into a killer if she didn’t get what she wanted.

Lindsey made her way back to the costume room, more confused than ever. If she looked at who had the most to gain by Robbie being dead, then, if what Kitty said was true, it wasn’t her. Lola didn’t seem to have enough oomph in her to commit a murder, but then again, how much oomph did you need to poison someone?

Lindsey felt as if the more she learned, the less she was certain of and there was only one thing she could do about it: research. It was time for the skeletons to come out of Robbie’s closet once and for all.