Obsessed (37 page)

“That’s enough, Michael.” Andy patted his shoul der. “You don’t have to go into the details. You found her, felt for her pulse, and then you called the police. Is that right?”

Michael nodded. “After I made the call, I went back to her. I was going to stay right by her until the police came. That’s when I noticed the arrow.”

“You didn’t see the arrow before?” Andy frowned slightly.

“No. But maybe I just didn’t notice. I can’t say for sure whether it was there or not, when I first found her.”

Andy nodded. “What did you do then?”

“I just stared at the arrow for a minute. I think I was in shock. I’d thought Heidi’s death was an acci dent, but when I saw the arrow, I knew it was murder. And then I remembered the noise we’d heard when we were singing and I panicked. I ran out the door and waited for the police on the street.”

“Noise?” Mr. Calloway raised his eyebrows. “What kind of noise?”

“Footsteps. Above the stage. It sounded like some one was up on the catwalk, walking around.”

“What did you do when you heard the footsteps?” Andy opened his notebook and began to write.

“I went to check the door, but it was locked and I didn’t see anybody lurking around. The noise had stopped by then, and I figured that it had been caused by something natural, like an animal running across the roof, or a tree branch rubbing against the build ing.”

“But it wasn’t something natural.” Linda shud dered. “What you heard was the Cupid Killer! It’s a good thing you waited for the police outside. He might have come after you!”

“You’re wrong, Linda! The Cupid Killer wouldn’t touch Michael. He only murders Michael’s girl friends.” Winona blurted out what almost everyone was thinking. Then she looked very embarrassed at what she’d said. “Sorry, Michael. I’ve got a big mouth.”

“Maybe, but I’m afraid you’re right.” Michael looked grim. “I should have grabbed Heidi and ran out the door. But I didn’t know that he was up there.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Carla reached out to pat his hand. “There’s one thing that puzzles me, though. How did the Cupid Killer get in if the door was locked?”

“Maybe I just thought I locked it. I’ve gone over it a million times in my head, but I’m just not sure.”

Andy looked very sympathetic. He could tell that Michael was agonizing over whether he’d locked the door. “Hey, Michael . . . it doesn’t really matter whether you locked the door or not. I’m almost sure there’s a way inside without a key.”

“That’s right.” Berto spoke up. “Andy and I are almost certain that someone’s been breaking in. There’s been a lot of food missing, and we think somebody’s been cooking in the kitchen.”

Andy nodded. “The pots and pans tipped us off. They’re always washed, but sometimes we find them put back in the wrong place.”

“I guess it’s time to ask some questions.” Mr. Cal loway looked around the table, and sighed. “Look, gang . . . I expect to have some missing food, once in awhile. I don’t pay that much, and I’ve always told you that if you’re hungry, you can have a meal on me, right?”

Carla nodded along with everyone else, but she began to get terribly nervous. She held her breath as Mr. Calloway continued.

“I’ve never really bothered to keep a complete in ventory, but lately things have really gotten out of hand. Andy and Berto told me that food has been disappearing every night. I really hate to ask, but . . . have any of you been coming in after hours to eat?”

One by one, they shook their heads. There was a long silence, and finally Carla spoke up. “Mr. Cal loway?”

“Yes, Carla.”

“I’ve noticed something, too. But I didn’t want to say anything before now. Some of the petty cash has been missing, and I’ve been making up the losses out of my own pocket. It hasn’t been much . . . only a couple of dollars a day.”

“Carla!” Mr. Calloway looked shocked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Carla sighed. She knew she should have reported the loss. “I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble. And I was sure the money would be returned, sooner or later. I knew it had to be someone who worked here, because everyone knows where I keep the key to the cash drawer.”

“Right.” Mr. Calloway nodded, and he faced the group again. “I want you to tell me if any of you have taken money out of the cash drawer. You don’t have to worry. I’ll understand. And I’ll let you make it up out of your paycheck.”

There was another uncomfortable silence, and then Andy spoke up. “I’m sure that no one on the kitchen staff took any money. We’re all friends, and we’re a pretty tight group. If someone needed money, they would have asked me for a loan.”

Linda, who was the unofficial leader of the talent, shook her head. “None of the talent took any money. I’m sure of it.”

“And no one on the crew did.” Marc Allen began to frown. “We’re a tight group, too. And I would have heard about it.”

Carla sighed deeply. “Someone took that money. I count the cash every night, and there’s always two or three dollars missing.”

“When did you notice the missing money?” Andy looked up from his notebook.

“A couple of weeks ago. At first, I thought I’d made a mistake, so I started counting the money twice. I do it once when I come in, and once when I leave at night. It’s all there when I leave, but it’s gone when I come in the next day.”

“How about a former employee?” Michael raised the question. “Somebody who used to work here could be coming back to eat and steal money from the cash drawer.”

Mr. Calloway shook his head. “That makes sense, except for one thing. There aren’t any former em ployees. No one’s ever quit. And I’ve never fired any one. Most of you started when Covers opened, and you’re all still here.”

“But Judy’s not here anymore.” Vera’s voice was shaking. “Judy’s a former employee.”

“Judy Lampert?” Carla’s mouth dropped open as Vera nodded. “But Vera . . . Judy’s dead! Dead girls don’t eat food, and they certainly don’t steal money out of petty cash.”

Vera looked a little embarrassed, but she stuck to her guns. “What if Judy’s like the Phantom of the Opera? Maybe we just think she’s dead. Linda told me she found some blankets folded up in one of the dressing rooms, and it looked like someone was sleeping in there. Maybe it’s Judy.”

“It’s not.” Carla shook her head. “Judy was killed in her car. We told you it burned, remember?”

“I know. But how do we know that Judy didn’t crawl out? She could be hideously deformed like the Phantom was. And she could be hiding out right here at Covers.”

“Come on, Vera.” Michael patted her softly. “You’re not making sense.”

“But I am! Judy said she was the Cupid Killer in that note she left! And then the police found an arrow in Liz’s body. There was a second arrow last night, and that proves that Judy’s still alive!”

“You’re wrong, Vera.” Andy looked very serious. “Judy’s dead. We can swear to that. Michael and Carla and I saw her body. We identified her for the police.”

Vera swallowed hard. Her face turned pale, and she looked absolutely horrified. “Oh, my God! That’s even worse!”

“What’s even worse?” Carla looked puzzled.

“If Judy’s dead, then she’s . . . she’s haunting us! And she’s murdering people from her grave!”

Marc Allen began to laugh. It was clear he didn’t believe Vera’s theory. “I love it! If Judy’s spirit is hanging around, I want her to show me how to fight the backdrop for the Covers logo.”

Carla could tell that Vera was ready to cry. Tears welled up in her eyes as she turned to Marc. “Don’t laugh, Marc. It’s scary! My aunt used to talk about ghosts and I never really believed her, but . . . but I do now!”

“Take it easy, Vera.” Michael reached out to hug her. “Tell us why you’re so frightened.”

“I . . . I was the last one to leave on Saturday night. And I saw Judy. I know I did.”

Linda frowned. “Come on, Vera. You didn’t really see her. You just thought you did.”

“I did see her!” Vera shook her head. “I left my purse in the office, and Andy let me back in to get it. The light was on in the kitchen, and I started to open the door to turn it off. That’s when I saw her. Judy Lampert was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich!”

“Well, that explains where all my dill slices have been going.” Andy began to chuckle. “They were Judy’s favorite pickles.”

“Go to hell, Andy!” Vera gave him a dirty look, and promptly burst into tears. “I don’t care if any of you believe me or not. But I saw her! And it scared me half to death!”

“Maybe you saw someone who looked like Judy.” Michael pulled Vera close, and gave her another hug. “Think carefully, Vera. Did you get a good look at her face?”

Vera gave a deep sigh, and snuggled up against Michael’s chest. “Well . . . no. Not really. She was turned away from me, but her hair was blond, and it was exactly the same length as Judy’s. And she was wearing a black sweater and jeans.”

“Did you talk to her?” Carla asked. “Or ask her what she was doing in the kitchen?”

Vera shivered and shook her head. “Of course not. I’m not crazy! I just turned around and ran for the door as fast as I could!”

For the next ten minutes, they all did their best to convince Vera that she’d seen a transient who just happened to look like Judy, but Vera wouldn’t be swayed. She came from a very superstitious family, and they all believed in ghosts. Finally, Mr. Calloway called for order.

“Okay gang. We’re wasting our breath. Vera’s go ing to believe what she wants to believe, and we’re not going to change her mind. But even if we put the problem of ghosts aside, we do have a very real prob lem. There’s definitely someone camping out at Cov ers, and I’m making a new rule. No one comes in to work alone. If you get here first, wait for someone else before you unlock the door. This Judy look-alike might have friends, and one of them could be the Cupid Killer.”

Michael turned to Mr. Calloway. “Then you don’t think that Judy was the Cupid Killer?”

“I’m not sure what I think. But someone murdered Liz Applegate. And now Heidi’s dead, too. It doesn’t really matter whether this is the work of the original Cupid Killer, or a copycat. There’s a serial killer out there, and we have to take precautions.”

Everyone nodded solemnly. Mr. Calloway was right.

“We’ll check all the windows and put on locks. And I’ll have the front door re-keyed. We’re going to make sure that Covers is locked up as tight as a drum. But my rule still stands. No one comes in alone.”

Their meeting only lasted a few more moments, and then everyone went off to get ready for the night’s performance. Carla walked back to the office and sat down behind her desk. She was more than a little rattled, and she didn’t really feel like working on the books. But she got out the ledger and opened it to the current date.

The money in the cash drawer had to be counted. Carla did it twice to make sure it was accurate, and got out her pen to record the sum in the ledger. That was when she saw the note. It was on a yellow Post-it, stuck to the page, and the handwriting looked like Judy’s.

Carla stared down at the small yellow square of paper for a moment, and her mind began to spin in crazy circles. Could Vera be right? Was Judy haunt ing Covers? The words on the paper were ominous, and Carla closed the ledger quickly, so she wouldn’t have to look at them. But their message was burned indelibly into her brain. Carla—Tell them to leave Michael alone. He’s mine!

Twelve

The black asphalt parking lot was hot, and Carla was glad she was wearing one of her new outfits from the movie. It was a simple cotton sundress, and large, impressionistic flowers trailed over the light green background. Jessie had told her the pattern was called “Summer Garden,” and the dress had been created by one of California’s top designers. Carla was also wearing the accessories she’d worn in the movie. A pair of leather sandals, a matching shoulder bag, and a pair of hoop earrings that replicated in miniature one of the flowers that was printed on the dress. Carla knew she’d looked good when she’d left the house, her mirror had confirmed that fact, but standing out here in the heat was bound to take its toll.

Carla glanced at her watch, and sighed impatiently. Michael and Vera were late. She moved over to the shade of the big palm tree, and sighed again. A week had passed since Heidi’s murder, but the police were no closer to solving the crime than they’d been when Liz had been killed.

Naturally, everyone was still very nervous. Mr. Calloway had called in a locksmith and they’d se cured the building completely. The locks had been changed, bars had been installed on the windows, and the police had gone over every inch of Covers to make sure no one was hiding inside. But Andy still reported that food was missing, and they knew that someone had managed to get in to eat and sleep, despite their precautions. Just yesterday, Mr. Cal loway had changed the locks again, to a much more expensive kind. These locks had a tamper-proof guarantee, and he’d passed out the keys after the per formance last night. There was only one extra key, and Mr. Calloway and Detective Davis had locked it up in the office safe. They were the only ones who knew the combination . . . unless, as Vera had sug gested, Judy’s ghost was watching when they spun the dial.

Carla shivered, even though the temperature was in the eighties. No one had been able to explain the note she’d found on the yellow Post-it. Carla had shown it to the whole staff, and everyone agreed that it looked like Judy’s handwriting. Of course that was impossible, unless Judy had written it before her death. But why had the yellow sticky suddenly ap peared on the current date in the ledger? No one had been able to come up with a possible explanation for that. Vera still insisted that Judy’s ghost was to blame, and no one had been able to convince her otherwise. Poor Vera was so nervous that Mr. Calloway had of fered to let her take some time off work. But Vera had refused. She’d begged Mr. Calloway not to men tion anything about Judy’s ghost to her parents. They were terribly superstitious, and she was afraid they’d send her off to her grandmother’s house again.