The Showstopper Page 5

  Bob vanished again, and Sandra looked around the now well-lit prop room.

  With Ethel’s new beacon lighting the place up, the room seemed much smaller. “I’m pretty sure Peter’s not in here,” Ethel said. “Let’s go check the costume room.”

  “Otis just came out of there. I think he would have said something if Peter was in there.”

  “Let’s go check anyway.” Ethel turned and headed for the door.

  “I was much more alarmed than you when I first saw Bob,” Sandra said, and they stepped out into the hallway.

  “Bob’s not my first angel encounter.”

  Really? Sandra wanted to ask her for details, but they heard commotion in the green room area, so they headed that way to find Jan trying to herd everyone back into the auditorium.

  “Why can’t we just stay here?” Gloria asked. “As long as we’re all in the same place, isn’t that the point?”

  Jan looked stymied.

  Sandra expected she didn’t even have a reason to get them all back to the auditorium, except that this was where she’d initially told them to stay put, and she expected to be obeyed.

  “It’s warmer down here,” Gloria added.

  Sandra doubted this. The theater was cooling off rapidly, and that went for every room she’d been in.

  “Everyone needs to go back upstairs—” Jan said again, but Sandra interrupted her.

  “Actually, I need people to spread out.”

  Jan opened her mouth, but Sandra didn’t let her object.

  “Someone has taken my son, and I need help looking for him.”

  “No one would take your son,” Jan said in a patronizing tone that made Sandra want to throttle her. “People always think their children are angels, and they never are. If your son is missing, that’s because he wandered off on his own. These people need to stay together for their own safety, not run off on some fool’s errand chasing your fool son—”

  Ethel stepped right in front of Jan and peered up into her face. “With all due respect, you need to shut your trap.” She looked past Jan’s shoulder at the others clustered in the room. “I was upstairs with Peter, and someone hit me in the back of the head hard enough to knock me out.” Then she looked at Jan again. “So the only fool here is you.” She stepped back. “Please, help us look for the child. There is a murderer in our midst, so you should probably go out in twos.”

  Chapter 12

  Peter wasn’t in the costume room, though it took a minute to determine this for sure. Much like the prop room, the costume room was a disaster. Sandra had never seen so many stovepipe hats in one place. Had they hosted an Abraham Lincoln impersonator contest? It also appeared that every child dancer within a hundred miles had donated every costume they’d ever worn. And Sandra didn’t even want to touch the pile of animal costumes in the back corner. She continued to hope that they were, in fact, only costumes.

  “At least this room doesn’t smell like mothballs,” Ethel said.

  “No, it doesn’t. It smells kind of good. What is that smell?”

  “No idea. Smells like a truck stop bathroom.”

  Sandra didn’t wholly agree with this assessment, but the association made her no longer appreciate the scent.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Ethel shuffled toward the door.

  “Wait. It’s only going to get colder. Let’s put on some more layers.” She poked through the racks like she was in a thrift-store-shopping-race and came out with a shawl for Ethel, a flannel and an oversized coat for herself, and a sweatshirt and coat for Peter. “Okay, now let’s go.”

  Over the next twenty minutes, Ethel became Sandra’s favorite person. Though she moved slowly and uttered the occasional mention of potatoes or whimper of pain, she led the charge as the two of them searched every nook and cranny of the theater, all the while saying encouraging, soothing things like: “Don’t worry. We’ll find him. He’ll be fine.”

  They were just about to duck into the sound room when Bob reappeared. “I found him.”

  Sandra let out a cry of relief and flung her arms around Bob’s neck. “Where is he?”

  “Come on, I’ll take you to him.”

  “You left him?”

  Bob held a finger to his lips, and then turned and walked to the front of the building. Sandra hurried to follow, and Ethel fell behind. When they got to the front door of the theater, Bob stopped to wait.

  “She’ll catch up, Bob! Let’s go! Where is he?”

  “He’s fine. I locked him in, so no one can get to him.”

  “Locked him in where?” she cried.

  Bob stayed frustratingly silent until Ethel joined them. Then he said to her, “Peter’s outside, but it’s mighty cold and slippery out there. I can lock you into the office if you want. You don’t have to go with us—”

  “I’m going.” Ethel stuck her chin out. “I love that child. You’ll just have to use your supernatural powers to keep me on my feet.”

  Despite the panic tightening Sandra’s chest, she had to smile at that.

  “Very well.” Bob opened the front door, and the wind stole Sandra’s breath away. She wrapped her arms around her chest and followed Bob down the front steps and across what would be the front lawn in the spring.

  “From above, it was easy to see the trail they left,” Bob said, and it was hard to hear his voice as the wind tried to carry it away. “The snow and ice are already obscuring their tracks, but it was clear that Peter put up a good fight the whole way to the shed.”

  “The shed?” Sandra exclaimed, and as the cold rushed in, was soon sorry she’d tried to exclaim anything. She clamped her mouth shut and put her head down. What shed? She hadn’t known the theater had a shed.

  “Yes, the shed. It’s got gardening supplies in it. And a lawn mower. We’re almost there.”

  Sandra took his word for it. She couldn’t see anything but white.

  A few steps later, Bob stopped. Sandra pulled up before running into him and squinted through the icy mix falling from the sky. Sure enough, there was a shed there. Bob reached out and opened the door, without touching any lock, leaving Sandra to believe the lock had been of the supernatural variety. She pushed past Bob to step inside, where she found a smiling Peter. She wrapped him in a bear hug. “What are you smiling about?” She was almost mad at him for being happy.

  “Because Bob already found me,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

  She felt the others pushing in behind her, and then the door shut, instantly warming the inside of the unheated shed. She hurriedly forced Peter into the sweatshirt, which was at least five sizes too big, and then tried to get him to put the coat on. He refused, so she told him to hold it.

  “Are you okay?” Peter asked Ethel.

  “I’m feeling a bit loopy, but I’ll live.”

  No one had any flashlights or candles, yet Sandra could see. She traced the source of the light to Bob’s hands, which were glowing softly. Neat trick. “Why did you leave him here?” Sandra said, her voice laden with accusation.

  Bob held up one glowing hand to ward off her verbal attack. “Let’s think about this. Why would someone grab Peter and stuff him, unharmed, into a shed?”

  Peter started to say something, but Bob shushed him. “Hang on. Really, I think it’s important we know why.”

  “Wasn’t Peter about to tell you why?” Sandra asked.

  Bob shook his head. “No, Peter was about to say something else.”

  “How do you know?” Ethel cried. “Can you read minds?”

  “Certainly not. But after a few millennia of dealing with humans, I am fairly intuitive. Now think.”

  Sandra thought. “I have no idea. Why don’t you just tell us your theory, Matlock?”

  “I think that the murderer did it.”

  What a shocking theory. We never would have thought of that.

  “And I think the fact that Peter remains unharmed tells us a lot about this murderer.”

  “Like what? He or she likes kids?”<
br />
  “Definitely a he,” Peter said. “Or a woman who smells manly and has a hairy arm.”

  Oddly, Sandra thought of Esau, but then decided he probably wasn’t in on this. And she suddenly had a craving for a hot bowl of stew.

  “No,” Bob said. “I mean, maybe. Lots of people like kids. But I think this shows that the murderer isn’t prone to violence. It’s not his first choice. I think Treasure’s death was an accident. I’m not saying she fell alone, but I don’t think whoever killed her meant to kill her.”

  “Okay,” Sandra said, failing to understand why he found this line of reasoning important. “I guess that’s a source of comfort?”

  “Exactly. But it’s more than that. The person stuffed Peter in the shed,” Bob said. “He hasn’t touched anyone else—”

  “I beg to differ,” Ethel announced. “He certainly touched me.”

  “Okay, sorry, he hit you, but he didn’t take you. Yet, he took Peter, which leads me to wonder why.”

  “Why?” Sandra cried. “Get to the point, Bob!”

  “I think he took Peter to distract you, Sandra. You specifically. So, why would he do that? Because you’re onto him. He figured if you were busy looking for your son, you wouldn’t be trying to figure out who killed Treasure—”

  “Or, he took the weakest person he could take, in order to distract everyone,” Peter said.

  Bob shook his head. “I don’t think so. I saw by the tracks in the snow that you put up quite a fight,” Bob said, and Peter beamed with pride. “It would have been easier to take Corina or Corban, or even Ethel. Yet, he took you.” Bob looked at Sandra. “Which makes me think that he fears Sandra finding him out.”

  “But I don’t have a clue!” Sandra cried.

  Bob nodded again. “I know that. But I don’t think the murderer knows that. So, how can we use that to our advantage?”

  “We could just stay here in this shed until the police arrive,” Ethel said.

  Sandra snickered, and it felt so good to laugh. She wrapped her arm around her son’s waist, which was thick with extra fabric.

  “No,” Bob said firmly. “Though we’d be safe, I think I should go in and make sure everyone else is safe. And even though it feels warmer in here than it does outside, it’s still too cold in here for you three to survive for very long.”

  Now that he mentioned it, Sandra’s toes were incredibly cold.

  “I think we should go inside,” Bob said, “but I think we should sneak Peter in and stash him somewhere as warm as possible, so the killer doesn’t know we found him. Then, we pretend to keep looking for him, while we actually try to figure out who the killer is.”

  Sandra clapped her hands together. “All right. Let’s do it. My feet are cold.”

  Chapter 13

  Bob sent his cohorts Sandra and Ethel in first, to make sure the coast was clear and to open the back door so that he could smuggle in a frozen ten-year-old. Then, under the cover of darkness, the three of them hustled Peter into the stinky props room.

  “Agh!” Peter exclaimed. “What is that smell?”

  “Old people church clothes,” Ethel said, and Sandra laughed so loudly that Bob shushed her.

  Peter looked at Ethel. “You don’t smell like that!”

  Ethel laughed. “Thank you! That’s good news.”

  “Why don’t you stay here with Peter,” Bob said to Ethel.

  “Yes!” Ethel held her giant flashlight up in the air. “If anyone comes this way, I will clobber him!”

  “I’m going to lock you in,” Bob said. “No one will come. But if you need to leave, you’ll be able to open the door.”

  Ethel nodded stoically. Then she pulled a tote marked “Feathers” over and sat down. Sandra wondered what past production needed enough prop feathers to justify them getting their own tote.

  “While you’re here, would you guys mind looking around for Treasure’s cell phone?” Sandra asked. “It’s missing.”

  Peter looked around the room, wearing the same expression he always wore when she asked him to clean the litter box at home. “Mom, we’re never going to find anything in here.”

  “Well, what else do you have to do but look?” She pointed at the bedding box. “And Ethel, there are blankets over there, if you get cold. They don’t smell as bad as you might think, either.” She looked at Bob. “So what’s the plan for us?”

  “Not sure.” He opened the door for her and they both stepped out into the hallway. He softly shut the door behind them, and she stared at him, waiting for him to say something that would miraculously seal the door shut—probably something in Hebrew or Latin—but he didn’t say anything at all. She was disappointed.

  “Is it locked?”

  “Yes.” He seemed unaware of, or at least unconcerned with, her disappointment. “What do you think the plan should be?”

  She shrugged. “First, I need to relight my candle.” She thought for a second. “Then I think we should go ask people if they’ve seen Peter, and in the process, ask them other questions as well, like you said, sort of interrogating them without letting them know they’re being interrogated.”

  “Hold out your candle.”

  She did, and instantly, the wick glowed with a yellow flame. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Can you make my candle grow too? It’s getting a bit stubby.”

  “It won’t come to that.”

  What did that mean? That he couldn’t do that particular miracle? Or that they would catch the killer before her candle burned out?

  “Yes,” he said. “I think that’s a great plan. And don’t be afraid to really provoke them. Maybe we can incite someone to try to grab you and stuff you in the shed.”

  She gasped. “You want to use me as bait?” She wasn’t as horrified by that idea as she should have been.

  He gave her an exasperated look. “I’ll be right there. I won’t let anything happen.”

  She wasn’t as confident in his abilities as he was, but she didn’t tell him that. “Okay, then, let’s go.” She took a step and then stopped. Go where? She had no idea where people were. She closed her eyes and strained to hear. At first, there was nothing, but then she thought she heard a bang from the green room, and she headed that way.

  Bob followed closely behind, and soon they were both standing inside the green room, looking down at Gloria and her children, who were all huddled together under something that looked like a superhero cape.

  “Wow, it really is warmer in here,” Sandra said.

  “Yes, I don’t know why more people aren’t in here,” Gloria said.

  “Because they’re all out looking for Peter,” Corina snapped, and Sandra felt guilty. Corina was scared for her friend, and Sandra was letting her worry for nothing, when he was safe and sound.

  “Don’t worry, Corina. I am confident that Peter is fine. I’m sure he just wandered off somewhere.”

  Corina looked skeptical. Maybe she knew Peter better than Sandra thought.

  “When was the last time any of you saw him?” Sandra tried to get a conversation flowing, even though she knew none of these people were guilty of anything. As she talked, she wandered around the room, looking for the missing cell.

  “We were all in the auditorium together when the lights went out,” Gloria said. “I told the kids to stay put while I came down here to get Corina’s phone for its flashlight. When I got here, I realized this was the warmest place to be, and I went back upstairs to get my kids. We’ve been here ever since. But I think he was still sitting in the auditorium when we left.”

  Corina nodded. “He was. And if we’d just stayed there, maybe he wouldn’t be missing right now.”

  Oh, for heaven’s sake. Sandra couldn’t live like this. She crossed the room and dropped to one knee in front of Gloria. “I need to tell you a secret,” she whispered.

  “Don’t!” Bob said firmly. “Didn’t you say she threatened Treasure? She’s our lead suspect!”

  Sandr
a didn’t think Gloria could wrestle Peter into a shed, and ignored Bob’s protest. “You can’t tell anyone else, but I’ve already found Peter.”

  “You did?” Corina cried.

  At the same time, Sandra and Gloria shushed her, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Her shocked expression gave way to relief and then to a glare directed at Sandra.

  “Someone grabbed him, dragged him outside, and shoved him into the shed.”

  “There’s a shed outside?” Gloria said, incredulous.

  “Yes. It’s a creepy little gardening shed. I’d never noticed it before either. Anyway, he’s fine. He was a little scared and a little cold, but he’s inside now, hiding. I don’t know who took him, and I’m trying to figure it out, because, obviously, whoever took him also killed Treasure, and I don’t want that person to know that I’m onto him. So please don’t say anything to anyone. But!” She looked at Corina. “I know none of you guys pushed Treasure, and I didn’t want to let Corina worry for nothing.”

  Corina’s glare softened as her cheeks grew pink.

  Sandra stood up. “So, I’ll be going to continue my fake search. You guys can stay here—”

  “No!” Gloria’s eyes grew wide. “I don’t think we’re safe here if someone is snatching kids.”

  Sandra stopped. She really didn’t think Gloria’s kids were in danger, especially if Bob’s theory was correct that the killer targeted Peter because of her. But how to convince them of that? “Um ... well, you can come with me, but I’m going to be traveling around actively looking for the killer, so I don’t think you’d be much safer with me.”

  Gloria looked terrified, and Sandra’s heart went out to her. She looked at the green room’s door. “Does that lock?” No one answered her, so she walked back to the door to check. “It doesn’t.” She looked around the room. “Why don’t you guys push some furniture in front of the door? That way no one can get in.”

  Gloria jumped up. “Great idea! Corban, help me push that table over to the door!”

  “Wait, let us get out first!” Sandra said.