Read It and Weep (A Library Lover's Mystery) (15 page)

“W
hat are we going to do without a Puck?” Lola asked.

She was wearing her Hermia costume, looking perfectly vulnerable, and again Lindsey wondered if that was what Robbie had seen in her. It gave her a tiny spurt of jealousy, which made her feel silly and stupid given all that was happening around them.

“We’ll have a Puck,” Violet said. “Don’t you worry. Emma just has some questions but Dylan will be back. In the meantime, I’ll read his part.”

Lindsey wondered if she should go and tell Violet what she knew about the tattoo and Dylan’s birthday. She hated that Violet might get blindsided by having another actor of hers arrested. Oh, god, the entire show could go under and it would be all her fault.

“Lindsey, there you are!” Nancy cried as she came dashing up the aisle toward her. She had a bunch of costumes draped over her shoulder and her normally sparkling blue eyes looked the teensiest bit deranged.

“What’s wrong?” Lindsey asked.

“Ms. Cole lost her floral headpiece,” Nancy said. “Personally, I think she lost it on purpose. She’s being a bit of a prima donna, you know, and she made a real stink when I put yellow buttercups in it. I thought they would pick up the yellow in her gown, but she said I did it to make her look sallow.”

Lindsey pressed her lips together, and tried not to smile. At least she could count on some things not to change.

“Anyway, she said that she and Milton were reading lines up in the balcony and she thinks she might have left it up there,” Nancy said. “Would you mind going to look for it?”

“No, not at all,” Lindsey said. “I’ll meet you backstage for the costume changes as soon as I can.”

“Thanks,” Nancy said, and she disappeared down the aisle and trotted up the side steps onto the stage.

Lindsey turned and headed into the lobby. The ticket takers and the ushers were all in the lobby, prepping for their assigned positions during the show. The women wore pretty, black or navy-blue dresses while the men wore black suits with bow ties. She glanced at the group, searching for Dylan’s mother, Joanie. Did she know he had left with Emma? Lindsey didn’t see her and she was relieved. She felt guilty enough without having to look the boy’s mother in the face.

She slipped around the lot of them and headed up the staircase that led up to the balcony.

The stairs were carpeted in red and gold, and wall sconces lit the way. The balcony was a modest size, ten rows deep with a fairly steep pitch. The bottom two rows gave a wonderful view of the stage, but the rest were definitely cheaper seating.

Lindsey stepped out into the balcony and wished she had a flashlight. The lights were lowered, as dress rehearsal had begun. She supposed there was no way she was going to find Ms. Cole’s headpiece unless she went up and down each row, checking each seat and the floor. Now she understood why Nancy had been so annoyed.

She decided to start with the front row and work her way to the back. Aisles ran down the side of the balcony, so she started with the right side since it was closer. The seats were the sort where the bottom part flipped up. She checked each seat and under it as she went. About ten seats in she spied something on the floor, but it was someone’s sweatshirt, not Ms. Cole’s rejected headpiece.

She was almost done with the first row when she heard a shout from the stage. She turned and glanced down to see what the commotion was about. One of the actors had missed his mark and collided with another one who was coming out of the make-believe forest that consisted of four fake trees and a wonderfully rendered backdrop.

“Watch where you’re going,” the actor who played Lysander snapped.

“Me?” the actor who was Demetrius retorted. “You’re the one who’s off your mark.”

“Stop it, both of you,” Violet chastised them. “I know nerves are running high, but we don’t have time for this. Take the scene from the top.”

The two actors exchanged a glare and went back to their spots. Lindsey was about to turn back around when a hard shove hit her square in the back.

The force of the hit sent her pitching forward. Her hips banged into the balcony rail while her upper body dipped over the edge. Someone screamed from below, but she was so busy trying to grab the rail of the balcony to catch herself that she didn’t see who it was.

She gripped the rail with her left hand and managed to hook one foot under an armrest, but someone knocked her foot free and she slipped forward over the edge. She caught her left foot on the rail at the last second, stopping her fall to the floor.

Every muscle in her body was clenched tight, and she was panting for breath as she tried to hold on to the rail with one foot and one hand. Gravity was not helping.

She could hear shouts and cries coming from below but with her body pressed up against the front of the balcony, she couldn’t turn her head to see if anyone was coming to help her.

She tried to tighten her grip but her muscles were straining. Her entire body was covered in a sheen of sweat and her fingers began to lose their grip on the rail.

She glanced down. A twenty-foot fall onto metal and thinly upholstered theater chairs did not seem like something she would survive without a lot of broken bones.

A banging noise sounded and someone yelled, “The balcony door is locked! We can’t get to her.”

“A ladder! Where’s the ladder?”

“Can we catch her?”

“Oh, my god, she’s going to die!”

Lindsey wasn’t positive but she thought that last voice was Ms. Cole and she didn’t sound nearly as upset as Lindsey thought she should.

The muscles she’d been clenching so tightly began to shake from exertion. Lindsey knew that she wasn’t going to be able to hang on much longer.

“Lindsey, let go!” a voice ordered over the shouts of the others.

She knew that voice. It was Sully, standing right below her.

Let go? Was he planning to catch her? He’d be squashed and they’d both be impaled on the furniture. She really didn’t like that outcome.

She felt her grip slipping. Her hand was covered in sweat and her sneaker was losing traction. She was going to fall either way. She had to trust that Sully had a plan that would work.

“All right,” she said.

“On the count of three,” he cried. “One. Two. Three.”

Lindsey let go. She fell, clenching her body tight for impact. When it came, it was unexpected. Another body hit hers, wrapping around her as it did. The other body, Sully, changed her trajectory, sending them over the backs of the chairs. Together the two of them tumbled onto a thin mattress, which had been dropped onto the hard floor behind the seats.

The impact was a double crunch of Sully twisting and hitting the floor and Lindsey landing on top of him. The wind was effectively knocked out of her, but it was a much better landing than slamming into metal chairs and breaking an arm, a leg or her neck.

She rolled off of him and lay on the ground sucking in huge gulps of air and coughing. Sully was beside her doing the same. He rolled toward her and their faces were just inches apart. He pushed a long blonde strand of hair from her face and looked her over.

“Are you all right?” he wheezed.

“Yeah,” she gasped. “You?”

“Never better.” He groaned.

He pressed his forehead to hers and Lindsey closed her eyes, thanking her lucky stars that Sully was as quick-thinking as he was.

The cast and crew surrounded them. Beth was the first to ask, “Are you all right? Lindsey? Sully?”

Sully pulled away from Lindsey and gave her a small smile. She got the feeling he would have preferred to stay in their cocoon for a while longer and she realized she would, too.

“We’re okay,” he said.

He sat up and helped Lindsey to sit up, too. Together they got to their feet and made sure that all of their parts were in fact still working.

The cast and crew broke into applause and Violet came up to them, looking pale with her hand clutched over her chest.

“You scared the life out of me, Lindsey Norris,” she said. “What the heck happened up there?”

The crowd went silent and Lindsey felt all eyes on her. She realized that whoever had pushed her was probably in this crowd now, so there really was no use in lying.

“Someone pushed me,” she said.

T
he crowd emitted a collective gasp. Sully immediately put his arm around Lindsey’s shoulders and pulled her close as if he could protect her from further harm.

Lindsey appreciated the gesture but knew that whoever had pushed her wasn’t going to be put off by Sully’s presence.

“But who would do such a thing?” Nancy asked.

“Why Lindsey?” Mary echoed.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Violet asked. “Someone wants to stop this show.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd like the wind warning of a bad storm on the way.

“First, they murdered Robbie,” she said. Violet’s voice shook with outrage. “But we refused to let our fallen thespian down and we persevered.”

She paced around the mattress where Sully and Lindsey stood, still holding one another close, as the adrenaline rush of the near-death experience hadn’t diminished quite yet.

“But this evil person will not rest until they have destroyed our show. Now they are attacking our crew. You must each ask yourself if you are willing to put yourself at risk for our show. I cannot tell you what to do, and I will respect your decision whatever you choose. For my part, I will not be bullied or terrorized into quitting even if I have to play all the parts myself.”

There was a beat of silence.

“I’m in,” Ian said with a raised fist. He was wearing his donkey head mask, so it took a little away from the moment, but it was heartfelt nonetheless.

“Oberon stands with you,” Milton said. He looked at Ms. Cole and she gave him a regal nod. “As does my queen.”

Sully gave Lindsey a bemused look and she shrugged.

One by one, the cast and crew vowed to give the show their all. Not one of them bowed out. Lindsey thought it spoke well of Violet and her considerable talent that they were all willing to risk bodily harm and possible death to put on the show.

“Excellent. Shall we all resume our places, then?” Violet asked. Everyone started to move away when Violet turned to Sully. “Except you two. I want you to take her to the police station and file a report with Emma.”

Sully nodded as if he’d been thinking the same thing. Lindsey blew out a breath. She knew they were right, but oh, she couldn’t help but feel as if somehow she was responsible.

“I’m so sorry, Violet,” she said.

“Whatever for?” Violet asked.

“I’m the one who told Emma that Dylan could be Robbie’s son,” she said. “And now, I was pushed off of the balcony and I just feel like I’m messing up your show.”

“You listen to me,” Violet said. She cupped Lindsey’s face with her hands. “Dylan is going to be fine. Whoever pushed you, it is probably the same person who poisoned Robbie, which makes it quite clear that it wasn’t Dylan. So, see? You did him a favor by having him go with Emma and not be on the premises.”

“Violet, who do you think is doing this?” Sully asked. His voice was gruff, and Lindsey knew that meant he was fighting to keep his temper in check.

“I wish I knew,” Violet said. “But whoever it is, they have no reason that I can think of to go after Lindsey, unless she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Another death would shut the show down for sure, so I have to think that’s the motive. Unfortunately, I know several people who would be oh so happy to see the show close before it even opens.”

“Buchanan?” Sully asked.

Lindsey studied his face. His jaw was set. His blue eyes were snapping with anger. She was surprised he didn’t start cracking his knuckles.

“Now, you listen to me, Michael Sullivan,” Violet said as she wagged her finger at him. “Don’t you even think about approaching that man in anger. You can’t fight him. He is protected by layers of lawyers and weaselly minions, whom you will never get through. He is one of the most powerful men in the country and he’s not afraid to use that power. If he decides to make your life a misery, he will. Believe me, I know.”

Lindsey looked at her friend and noticed the worry lines that creased the corners of her eyes seemed deeper than they had a few weeks ago. She wondered how many of those wrinkles had been put there by Buchanan, and she suddenly had to fight the urge to crack her own knuckles.

“Do you think he murdered Robbie?” Lindsey asked. The thought that they were all just targets because some billionaire was mad made her a little queasy.

“I hate to think that the father of my baby is a killer,” Violet said. “But I can’t think of anyone else who would try to cause trouble just because he can.”

“You know, if I just happened to run into him, say, on the pier, it could be a total coincidence that he falls into the water,” Sully said.

“And he will sue you and you will lose your business,” Violet said. “You’ll be lucky if they leave you with an oar to a rowboat when his lawyers are through with you.”

Sully glowered, and Violet patted his arm.

“Go,” she said. “Emma needs to know what happened.”

Not waiting for their answer, Violet turned back to the stage, where the cast and crew were doing a mad scramble to begin the dress rehearsal again.

“You ready?” Sully asked her.

“As I’ll ever be.”

They cut through the lobby and out the front doors. The ticket takers and ushers stared as they passed and Lindsey felt her face get warm. She felt like an idiot, like she was some sort of bad-juju magnet.

How could she not have known someone was up there with her? And who was it? Was it one of these people? They had all been in the lobby when she went into the balcony to look for the headpiece. The thought sent a shiver of fear down her back.

Sully pushed open the door for her and she stepped back out into the brisk evening air. They crossed the courtyard to the sidewalk and then turned left toward the police station.

“Didn’t we just get here?” she asked. “It feels like we just arrived and now we’re leaving.”

“I disagree,” Sully said. “In fact, I think I’ve aged five years since I saw you clinging to the edge of the balcony.”

“There is that,” she said. They passed under a streetlight. “I really thought I was going to go splat.”

He leaned close so that his mouth was near her ear and he said, “I would never let that happen.”

Lindsey glanced at him and gave him a small smile. “You saved my life—again.”

They were both silent. The last time Sully had saved her life, he had also saved her ex-fiancé. It had caused the end of their brief relationship because Sully believed there was unfinished business between Lindsey and her ex. There wasn’t, but he had refused to believe her when she told him that.

“It is becoming a habit,” he said. His tone was light but there was so much unsaid between them that Lindsey felt as if each of his words was weighted with the heft of their unspoken expectations.

She pressed her arm against his as they walked. There was so much she wished she could say, but she didn’t know how.

“‘Thank you’ seems awfully unsubstantial,” she said.

They were in front of the police station now and she paused. She turned to face him. The desire to throw herself at him and plant a kiss of gratitude on him that would make his knees buckle was almost more temptation than she could resist.

“Well, what did you have in mind?” he asked. As if he was reading her thoughts, Sully raised his eyebrows at her.

Lindsey was pretty sure he was offering up a dare. The only question now was whether she was brave enough to take it. She took a half step toward him and he hit her with his patent-worthy grin. Oh, how she had missed this man!

She took another half step toward him and was just about to grab him by the front of his jacket and pull him close when the front door to the police station banged open and out stormed Dylan Peet. He looked furious.

Lindsey took a hasty step back. She had no doubt that Dylan had a few harsh words for her, and she knew she had to accept responsibility for talking to Emma about him.

She felt Sully step up behind her as if to give her backup and she appreciated the gesture but knew that this was her problem.

To her surprise, Dylan didn’t even slow down and appeared to be planning to blast right past her.

“Hey, Dylan.” Lindsey reached out and grabbed his arm. “Are you all right?”

Dylan glanced up as if seeing them for the first time. He looked as if he was visibly trying to get himself under control.

“Hi, Ms. Norris, Captain Sully,” he said. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.”

“So I gathered. Are you all right?” she asked him again.

Before he could answer, the door to the station opened and his mother came out. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked just as angry as Dylan.

“Dylan Thomas Peet, you will not walk out on me when I am talking to you. Am I clear?” Joanie asked—although it was pretty obvious that there was only one acceptable answer to her question.

Joanie’s eyes widened as she noticed Lindsey and Sully standing there, and then her gaze went to where Lindsey’s hand was still on Dylan’s arm. Lindsey removed her hand, knowing that it looked awkward as she did so.

“Why should I stay and listen to you when you don’t care what I want, Mom?” Dylan asked.

Joanie walked toward them. She put a fake smile on as if she wasn’t having a scorching fight with her son.

“That’s enough,” she said in a clipped tone. “We’ll finish this discussion in the car.”

“What’s to discuss?” Dylan snapped. “You told me I have to quit the play. What more do you want to take from me?”

“Dylan, I said we’d discuss it in the car,” Joanie said. Her cheeks were bright red and her mouth was clamped in a thin, tight line.

“There’s nothing to discuss!” Dylan exploded. His arms went flying up into the air in a gesture of perturbed exasperation that Lindsey had never before seen from the usually low-key teen. “And do you want to know why?”

Joanie looked as if her eyes were about to pop out of her head. Lindsey was sure Dylan had never spoken to his mother like that—ever.

“Because I’m not going to quit!” Dylan yelled. “I’m doing this for Robbie Vine, and nothing you can say or do is going to stop me!”