“He’s going to be in a play? Like, an actor?” He sounded confused, and Vivien admitted that was a reasonable reaction.
“Yes.” She went on to explain, adding, “And Michael Wold and Penny Stern are also celebrities who’ll be doing the two-weekend run. The rest of the cast is local.”
“Oh, yes, I’ve heard all about that from Maxine and Juanita,” he replied in a neutral tone. “All’s I can say is, if either of them offer me elderberry wine—or any other kind of wine—I’m gonna decline.”
Despite her mood, Vivien couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Good thinking—although I wouldn’t worry too much. You don’t fit the profile of the Brewster sisters’ victims.”
“Anyone else back in New York who might not want you to succeed out here?” asked the captain.
Vivien shook her head. “I simply can’t think of anyone like that.” She hugged herself. “This is really unsettling.”
“All right, then,” Joe Cap went on in a soothing voice. “We’ll make sure everyone drives by here more often, and I’ll do some looking in on things. Helga, you said you saw someone last night here?”
“We all did—Jake, Baxter James, and I,” Helga replied. “Baxter drew me a picture of the brake lights—which wasn’t very helpful, because they just look like blobs—but I’m going to show him a few pictures of car back ends in case he recognizes them. I also want to look around to see whether there are any tire tracks we might be able to use to nail down the vehicle. Especially if they drove through all the broken glass,” she added with a smirk. “Looked like he might have done.”
“Good thinking,” said the captain. “I’ll check in with the tire place in town, and a couple of the dealers, poke around a little. Helga, if you get them, I can run images of tire tracks through the system—”
“Ah, that’s all right, Cap,” Helga said quickly. “It’s best if you just stay away from the electronics, all right? I’m happy to do it, and type up the report for this morning too. He’s an excellent cop,” she said to Vivien and Jake, “great investigator, wonderful boss—but this man can’t walk past the copy machine without it spontaneously jamming or blowing a fuse, and every time he tries to print something, he ends up disconnecting every computer from the entire network. Then I have to reboot it, and…ugh.”
“Right,” said Captain Longbow, shaking his head sadly. “Not being able to use all that equipment… It’s a curse…and a blessing.” His eyes twinkled, and Vivien realized she was glad to have someone competent at the law enforcement helm here in her new hometown, even if he was a menace around electronics.
Once Joe Cap and Helga left, Vivien and Jake were finally able to go backstage to see what had caused the chaotic crashing sounds that had preceded the earthquake-like event on the scaffolding.
“I’m almost afraid to look,” Vivien said, more grateful than she wanted to admit that Jake was on her heels as she strode to the stage-right wing. “It sounded like it was coming from back in the workshop.”
“It sounded pretty ugly,” he replied.
Itwaspretty ugly.
The scene looked as if a cyclone had come through and tossed everything around in a jumble. Set pieces once leaning against the wall had collapsed into a pile, metal rods and tools were flung to the floor, and paint cans (fortunately, none had come open) were strewn all over. The posters of old show casts Stephanie Lillard had found were in a tumble in the middle of the floor.
Vivien stood there trying not to think about who, or what, had done this. At least it all happened after the big cleanup day, or the mess would have been much worse with so many more things to throw around.
“It won’t take that long to put things back,” Jake said, already picking up paint cans to restack them against the wall. “It’s really not that big of a mess.”
“No, it’s not as bad as it sounded from out there. But how did it happen?How?” She picked upThe Nutcrackershow photo, which was in the middle of the floor on top of the pile, and sighed.
Of course, Jake didn’t have an answer for that—or if he did, he didn’t want to share it. Neither of them did. The answer wasn’t pretty.
In an effort to distract herself, Vivien began to sing an old song fromThe Little Mermaidabout all the neat stuff, and by the time most of the mess had been picked up, she was belting out how she wanted to be where the people were.
In the middle of the chorus, she turned to find Jake standing there watching her. When their eyes met, her heart jumped a little. Then he gave a funny grimace and returned to tipping the last of the large set pieces against the wall with the rest of them.
“Cute song,” he said. “I think your voice has gotten even better over the years. It’s more mature.”
Feeling supremely self-conscious, Vivien brushed off his compliment. “Only because the acoustics in here are better than my apartment—or yours—was back then.”
“I thought the acoustics in the shower back then were pretty damned good,” he said, holding her eyes with his.
Her throat went dry and something sizzled in her belly. She gave a nervous laugh and looked away, turning her attention to straightening a row of nail cans on the worktable. “Well, that’s why people like to sing in the shower—”
“I loved hearing you sing in the shower,” he went on mercilessly. “I’d still be in bed, and you’d be up and at ’em, and then I’d hear you. It was a wonderful way to wake up in the morning. I could hear you right through the wall. You could be singing anything from a sad tearjerker to a big, happy dance number to a sassy, silly thing like—like ‘If You Were Gay.’ That one always made me smile, but I liked them all. I liked hearing you.” He was looking at her so affectionately. “I could always tell what your mood was by what you sang in the shower.”
She wanted to swallow, but there was something clogging her throat. And the dust was getting to her eyes, because all at once they stung. “Jake…”
“So I’m just curious what you were singing in my shower yesterday,” he went on, giving her a crooked little smile and spreading his hands.
That surprised a laugh out of her. She hadn’t realized he could hear her. “Are you sure you want to know?”
