Читать книгу Deadly Drama - Jody Holford - Страница 11

Chapter Three

The Britton Bay Recreation Center was a hub of activity when Molly, Sam, and Chris arrived later that night. With a big auditorium that included a stage, the town often held large-scale functions at the site. There were two small gymnasiums and several classrooms that offered a range of courses from seniors’ yoga to CrossFit. Molly had tried a few classes but she preferred walking on the beach to a crowded, sweaty group workout.

A group of teens were heading noisily toward one gymnasium, a basketball bouncing in time with their steps. A couple of older women were paying for water yoga, which started shortly. A man and a woman who looked close to Molly’s age stood waiting behind the women, arguing heatedly but quietly, both holding squash racquets. Chris and Sam waved to the young man behind the counter, who looked a little frazzled as he chatted with the customers.

The center was huge, with arms stretching out in each direction from the main area. The indoor pool was at the far end of one of those arms, but still the scent of chlorine hovered in the air, probably from people leaving after their swim. The three of them went to the left—clearly Chris had already come by to see his girlfriend, Sarah. She was a newer resident—which, to Molly, was anyone who’d settled in Britton Bay after her. Along with being a talented artist, Sarah owned an art studio up the road. She and Molly had become fast friends, which worked out well since their respective boyfriends were close.

“Through here,” Chris said, gesturing to a set of double doors that had black paper taped over the windows. A white sign had been plastered over the paper saying, Closed Set. Molly bit her lip to keep from grinning. Apparently, community theater was a serious thing.

“You’re not scared to go in?” Sam asked, gesturing to the sign.

Chris scowled. “This woman was on a soap opera for five minutes thirty years ago, and she acts like she’s next in line for the throne.” He tugged on the sign, pulling it down. “How on earth can she close the set when she needs volunteers to be ready for opening night?”

When he pulled the door open for them, Molly let Sam go first. “Sacrificing me?” he whispered as he led the way into the darkened auditorium.

“You’re being noble,” she whispered back, tucking her fingers in the back pocket of his jeans while her eyes adjusted to the dark.

“That’s awfully nice of me,” Sam said, reaching back for her other hand and pulling her close.

“You know what they say about nice guys,” Chris whispered behind them.

Up ahead of them, at the front of the auditorium, the stage was lit up with overhead lighting but it didn’t cast a glow far enough for Molly, Sam, and Chris to really see where they were going.

The door swung shut behind them, like it had been on a five-second delay. Everyone on stage froze and looked in their direction. If what Molly had heard about stage lighting was true, none of the cast could see them. Someone in the front row stood, almost cinematically slow, and turned. It was impossible with the distance and the dark to make out the features, and maybe it was the rumors she’d heard, but the figure looked ominous with the light glowing in the background.

“Uh-oh,” Sam whispered, stopping. “I think we’ve upset the Wizard.”

“What part of closed set do you not understand?” The slightly nasally feminine voice rang out through the auditorium like a dignified roar.

“We’re here to help out with the set, Ms. Sweet,” Chris called back. Molly could feel the tension radiating from him, nearly vibrating through the darkness. She’d been on the wrong side of Chris’s anger more than once and knew he wouldn’t cower in the face of conflict. They should have let him go first.

“Stagehands enter through the alley. Never through the front,” Ms. Sweet called back.

Molly gulped down the ball of nerves that lodged in her throat. She’d been brave in the face of disaster more than once, yet just this woman’s tone froze the hair on her arms.

“Maybe so,” Chris said, stepping around Molly and Sam. “But there’s a truck blocking that entrance right now.”

“What?”

The director’s shriek made Molly jump, and Sam pulled her into his side, putting his arm around her shoulder.

She pointed toward the stage, yelling, “Five-minute break. Not six; five,” and stormed off to what Molly was pretty sure was stage right. It wasn’t until she got a bit further that Molly noticed there was someone following behind her. With the light and the dark, whoever it was had literally been eaten up by the former star’s presence.

The three of them continued down the aisle toward the front of the room where the cast still stood like a scared tableau. Now that they were closer, Molly recognized several of the townsfolk including Sarah, who was crossing the stage with two cans of paint in hand, looking like she was holding back laughter.

Molly grinned at the people she recognized and tried to lighten the moment. “We’re definitely not in Britton Bay anymore,” she said loud enough for others to hear.

The laughter that rumbled through the cast and stage crew seemed to set them in motion. People started rushing off the stage to claim what was now the four minutes and thirty seconds they had left of their break.

Sarah greeted them as they ascended the short stairway up to the stage. She set the cans down behind the set.

“Hey.” She went up on tiptoes to accept Chris’s kiss, then leaned into him and looked at Molly and Sam. “I feel like I should tell you to run for your lives, but you know what they say about misery.”

Sam and Chris chuckled while Molly looked around.

“There’s safety in numbers,” Chris said, a smile in his tone.

Sarah gave an exaggerated laugh, making Molly giggle. “That’s what you think, my pretty.”

Molly took a moment to absorb her surroundings. She’d been to a couple of community plays when she’d lived in other towns, but none had rivaled the elaborate detail of the set she was standing on. Instead of a stage, she stood on the yellow brick road, surrounded by tall trees of various shapes and colors. The wooden backdrop resembled houses on one side—meant to be Kansas, while on the other, Oz was depicted with an elegant castle. When she looked up, she saw a hollow house hanging in the air. Sarah stood beside her and pointed. “That’s the house that kills the witch.”

Molly looked at her friend, momentarily admiring the pretty green clip holding back her dark side bangs. “This is incredible.”

Sarah nodded. “She’s a tyrant, but she’s actually very talented. I worked on plays all through high school and a bit in college. She knows what she’s doing even if she doesn’t go about getting what she wants in the nicest way.”

Cora Lester— a local who’d informed Molly shortly after she’d arrived that by dating Sam she had stolen the perfect husband for her daughter—came to stand next to them.

“Don’t be hard on Magnolia,” Cora said. “Especially not where she can hear you. From what I’ve read, most geniuses have gruff personalities, and can you blame them? I mean, no one really gets them, do they?”

Before she could say anything in response, a tall woman dressed as Auntie Em glared down the bridge of her nose, even going so far as to put her fingers on her thin-framed glasses. For a moment, Molly thought she was just staying in character.

“Do you think all that brown-nosing will actually get you anywhere?”

Cora turned an icy shoulder on the woman and gave Molly a wide-fake smile. Molly knew from experience that Cora had a sharp tongue and didn’t mind using it to spread gossip or warnings. It was surprising that she chose not to respond to the other cast member. Instead, she asked, “How are you, Molly?”

“Fine, thanks,” Molly said, glancing over at Sarah.

The other woman walked away from them and Cora’s smile dropped immediately. “You should really clear the stage for the actors,” Cora said dismissively, pulling a folded script from her back pocket.

Sarah turned to Molly and rolled her eyes. “Come on,” Sarah said. “I still have to paint the other side.” As they moved around the wooden staging—basically long pieces of plywood artfully connected by two-by-fours at the bottom, Sarah looped her arm through Molly’s. “She’s one of the monkeys.”

Molly stifled her laugh. Chris and Sam were already painting at one end of the panels.

“Everyone back in their places. I’m telling you, if every theater was this incompetent, there’d be no shows,” Magnolia’s voice rang out from somewhere out front.

“Where’s Dorothy? Dorothy?” Her voice came out shrill.

“She refuses to call them by their real names,” Sarah whispered, handing Molly a paintbrush.

Molly’s eyes widened as an older woman she didn’t recognize—and not just because she was dressed like Dorothy—hurried around the set and out to the front of the stage.

“Right here, Ms. Sweet,” the woman said.

“Don’t think I can’t replace you,” Magnolia said. Her voice carried well through the auditorium. “Let me tell you the first thing I learned in Hollywood; anyone can be replaced.”

“Not you,” Cora called back.

“I’m making a few changes. Dorothy, go stand stage left for a moment. Where are the monkeys? Instead of six, I only want three. Monkeys four, five, and six, you’ll be silent woodland creatures instead. Tiffany, make a note.”

Molly, glad she wasn’t Tiffany— whoever that was— continued painting hand-drawn bricks a shiny shade of gold. Sarah’s sharp intake of air made her look up. “You okay?” She whispered it across the space.

Sarah winced and pointed out front.

“But I’m monkey six,” Cora said loudly.

“And now you’re a quiet little bunny in the background. Let’s go again with the lights. Is there anyone in the damn tech booth?” Fingers snapped loudly. “Anyone?”

“We’re here, Ms. Sweet,” said a voice through the speaker system.

“Finally,” Magnolia said. “From the top.”

“Ms. Sweet. There were no bunnies in the play. I don’t understand.”

Molly couldn’t help it. She set the paintbrush down and tiptoed to the edge of the set, peering around. Several people milled about in the wings, and it felt like they were holding their collective breaths.

Magnolia came up the stairs and stood right in front of Cora. “Are you challenging me?”

Cora shook her head. “Of course not. It’s just, I was pleased with my role.”

Magnolia jutted out her hip and placed her hand on it. “And I would be pleased if you stopped wasting my time. While I was outside, I realized that the spark I’m missing isn’t just because you’re a dreadful lot of actors. It’s because there are too many of you. No play needs this many active characters. Now, if you want to be part of the production at all, I suggest you hop along backstage and see if wardrobe has some cute ears for you to wear. Otherwise, your services are no longer needed. Tiffany, get me a water.”

In the bright overhead lights, Molly caught the sheen in Cora’s eyes, and though she was no fan of Ms. Lester, she felt badly for the woman.

“Well then. I quit. You think you can treat people however you want, Magnolia Sweet, but mark my words, one day it’s going to come back and bite you in your butt.”

Cora tossed her script on the ground and stormed off the stage. Magnolia spread her arms wide, looking around at the actors. “Anyone else? If you don’t like the way I do things, you’re free to go.”

A waifish looking woman with her hair in long dark braids hurried over with a bottle of water and handed it to Magnolia, who snatched it from her hand and went to her seat. The woman followed.

No one else moved or spoke. Sarah joined Molly and whispered in her ear. “That’s the second cast member who’s left today.”

Molly followed Sarah back to where they’d been painting, shooting Sam a smile she wasn’t sure he could see in the low light. The actors began to rehearse.

“Who else?” Molly whispered as she kneeled down and swiped the brush through the paint.

Sarah picked up a can and poured more into the tray. “Lenora Ray left earlier today. She was supposed to be the aunt but kept mispronouncing words and Magnolia wouldn’t stop yelling at her. It made Deb happy though. Do you know her? She lives at the seniors’ villa out on the edge of town, where Magnolia lives. She’s got a crush on Beau Harrison who plays the uncle.”

Molly couldn’t stop her jaw from dropping. “My goodness. It’s like she brought the soap opera with her.”

“Are people talking backstage? Stagehands, are you trying to ruin my production? You’re back there to work, not yap all night. Again, from the top.”

There were further moments of tension, but if Molly pushed that aside, listening to the lines from behind the stage was actually kind of fun. Careful not to talk and disrupt rehearsal, Molly and Sam shot looks to each other across the space. She had to stifle a laugh more than once as Chris and Sam goofed around in between working. Sarah shook her head repeatedly, her smile glimmering in the dark as she worked on the set.

By the time they’d painted the castle in full, rehearsal had come to a close. A man came through with a garbage can and a broom, his dark gray beard twitching when he passed Chris, Sarah, Sam, and Molly.

“You four hide out until the dragon lady left?” His eyes twinkled with amusement.

“You know me better than that, Judd. We aren’t scared of her,” Chris said, reaching out to shake the man’s hand.

“Speak for yourself, man.” Sam also shook the man’s hand.

“You’re not carrying your weapon, you ought to be scared. Though I reckon these lovely women could take care of you two scoundrels,” Judd said, tilting an imaginary hat their way.

The guys laughed and Sam put an arm around Molly. “Judd here was our custodian when Chris and I went to high school. Now he keeps half the buildings in Britton Bay clean after hours. Judd, this is Molly, my girlfriend, and this is Sarah, Chris’s girlfriend.”

“Nice to meet you ladies. Sam, good, honest work never hurt anyone. You’d know all about that,” Judd said, speaking to Sam with affection.

Chris took Sarah’s hand but his chin popped up. “What about me? I’m good and honest.”

Judd’s eyes sparkled again. “You’re acting sheriff, boy. That’s next thing to a politician, so whatever good and honest you got left, you better hide it before the job takes that out of you.”

The four of them laughed and Judd shared a couple of Chris and Sam stories from their youth, making them laugh harder.

“You kids go on. See you soon.” Judd waved as he pushed the broom down the aisle and the four of them left the way they’d come in, this time without a hassle.