Read It and Weep (A Library Lover's Mystery) Page 11

  • • •

  “Lindsey, 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 Vi
olet 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?”

  15

  “Who 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.