The Age of Inno-Scents, page 7
“Emphasis on probably.”
“I trust your instincts.”
I leaned my head on his shoulder as we walked up the corridor. “I love that about you.”
“And here I thought you only loved me for my—”
“There you are!” a woman exclaimed, cutting Ezra off just as he was getting to the good stuff. I groaned as Velma and Daffney fast-walked in our direction. Velma waved her hand. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you, Nora.”
I narrowed my gaze at her. “Why?”
My question seemed to take Velma aback. “Because, well, you know. To compare notes and catch up.”
I felt bad for my abruptness. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come off the way it did. We’re just really focused on the, uhm, game.”
Daffney was gawking at Ezra. What was her deal with him? I mean, I got it. Ezra was a good-looking man. Even so, her interest seemed a little blatant considering I was standing right next to him. Daffney blushed when she noticed I’d caught her staring. She glanced away at the floor and said, “I’m sure you were busy. I told Velma not to bother, but you know how she is.”
I didn’t. I hadn’t seen the sisters in over thirty years. I had no idea what either of them was like. “No worries. We can catch up tomorrow. Why don’t you guys meet us for breakfast?”
Velma brightened. “Absolutely.” She patted the air in front of me. “I can’t wait to hear what you’ve been up to since the good old days.”
Inwardly, I groaned. I wasn’t one of those people who thought of the past as magical. I was grateful for all my experiences, but frankly, my best life was right now. “Great,” I said.
“Ladies,” he said as he took my hand. Ezra gave them a slight nod. “Later.”
“Bye.” I waved and let Ezra lead me away from the sisters. “Is Daffney acting suspicious, or is it just me?”
“She gives me the willies,” Ezra said. “She keeps staring at me.”
“Because you’re a handsome guy.” I tugged his beard. “Even with all this fur.”
“Ow,” he said, brushing the hair down. “As soon as the district attorney in Kansas City brings charges against the dockside drug ring, I’ll shave.”
We’d carpooled with Gilly, Pippa, Jordy, and Scott, so we hadn’t really had a chance to talk about what he’d gone through during his weeks in Kansas City or what it meant for him now that he was home. I had assumed he was done with all that business, but maybe not.
I frowned at him. “Is there a chance you’ll have to go back? I mean, undercover.”
“Not too likely.”
“But there is a chance.”
“A slight one.” He put his arm around my shoulders and gave my upper arm an affectionate tickle. “I don’t want you to worry, though.”
“Easier said than done.” I patted his hand. “How about I stop worrying when you get to shave?”
“Deal,” he said. He leaned over and brushed his beard against my cheek.
I giggled. “Stop.”
The hallway door to the back of the gym was open. I saw the Flock of Seagulls guy and the blonde cheerleader walk through the kitchen doors. He looked like a man on a mission.
“Hey, there’s two of our suspects.” I gestured toward the gym. “Real names are Tim Dean and Lynn Gleason, I think.”
“Good memory,” Ezra said. “Let’s go see if they’re the lovers we’re looking for.
We hurried down the hall to the open door. There was so much noise from the gym, I wasn’t too worried about being overheard. We quickly moved through the doors into the kitchen.
I heard muffled voices in the back but couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Ezra gestured to get my attention then mouthed the word, “Closer.”
I nodded, grateful I was wearing sneakers and not clunky, clackity heels as we advanced forward. I turned sideways to shimmy around a wire rack of pots and pans and snagged my dress on a utensil hook. The action jostled a crate of drinking glasses. I let out a barely audible hiss as I eased back and detached myself from the metal prong. Ezra raised his brows in a question.
I gave him the OK sign. The voices were coming from behind a closed door. I held up a finger for Ezra to wait. I went back to the crate with glasses and took two of them from their slots. I carried them back to Ezra and handed him one.
He smirked and whispered. “Kickin’ it old school.”
I grinned. “Every chance I get.”
He gave me a quick kiss before putting the open side of the glass to the door. I did the same with mine. The muffled conversation became clearer.
“It’s going good, right?” I heard Lynn ask. “Other than the two who broke the locked drawer in the chemistry room, everyone seems to be having a good time.”
“One guy already made a guess,” Tim Dean said. “He was wrong, of course.”
“I overheard Nellie Lox say she wanted to put our weekend on her Pinstabook channel. Maybe we should’ve let them keep their phones.”
“We all agreed, Lynn. Cellphones give an unfair advantage to players.”
“I know,” she whined. “But we’ve sunk everything into this place…”
“We’re booked through to the end of the summer,” he assured her. “I promise, babe. We’re going to make this work. The only real option, for all of us, is success.” There was a short pause. “Haven’t I always taken care of you?”
“You’re right,” she said.
“What was going on with Buzz and T earlier?” Tim asked.
“Creative differences,” Lynn said quickly. “Don’t worry about them. I’ll handle it.”
A clang of pans followed by a sharp curse startled me. I dropped the glass on the floor, and it bounced against the door.
“What was that?” The words were loud, sharp, and unmistakable on the other side of the door.
Ezra set his glass on a shelf and pulled me into his arms and away from the door. He turned me until my back was against the wall, and before I could yelp, he sealed my mouth with a passionate kiss.
The door opened. “Who’s out here?”
“Damn it to hell,” a man groused. “My trousers have been eviscerated.”
“Is that you, Bob?” Tim demanded.
“Of course, it’s me, you moronic twit.” The overhead lights flickered on as someone flipped a switch. “Why are there two people making out next to canned goods?”
Oops. Caught.
My lids flickered open and staring back at me were the most gorgeous green eyes. In the two years we’d been together, I never tired of this view. Ezra eased back from the kiss. “Hello, gorgeous,” he said.
“Hello, sexy,” I replied.
“What are you two doing back here?” Lynn demanded. She had on a pair of sparkling earrings in the shape of bees and a necklace pendant to match. Very cute and young jewelry, fitting for her cheerleader character. She nervously tugged at her necklace. “This area is off-limits to guests.”
Ezra straightened his jacket. “Excuse us. We were…uh…looking for some place private.”
“Your rooms are private,” Lynn said.
“Sorry.” I held up my hands. “We haven’t seen each other for a few weeks…”
Tim’s expression softened. “It’s not a problem, really. The kitchen and the staff hallway are restricted for a reason, though.”
“Sorry,” Ezra said. “We’ll get out of your hair now.”
“I didn’t mean to sound harsh. Flashbacks,” Lynn added on a laugh. “But I’m not a teacher anymore, and you all aren’t two lovesick teens caught making out in the kitchen.”
The actor who’d played Biff, Sawyer Johnson, came in behind Robert Forester—or Bob, as Lynn had called him. He smirked when he saw us. “You two.” He shook his head. “Get a room.”
Bob moved forward and knocked stuff over on a shelf. The man wasn’t steady on his feet. “I can’t work under these conditions, Dean.” He shook a fist at Lynn and Tim. “ My life was nearly snuffed out.”
“By what?” I asked automatically.
“When I was doing a quick change, I slipped on the floor. I could have been concussed! Some imbecile spilled oil on the…” His words trailed off as he glanced around the room at all of us, then shook his head. “Never mind.”
“Excuse us,” Tim said to Ezra and me. He gestured toward the exit. “It ruins the illusion if you peek behind the curtain. I hope you understand.”
I nodded. “Yeah, definitely.”
The actress playing Ms. Nelson, Tina Rothschild, was at the kitchen entrance. She looked mildly surprised to see Ezra and me walking toward her.
“The kitchen is staff only,” she said.
I nodded. “We were just leaving.”
After we passed by her, I heard her say, “Watch what you’re doing.”
I turned back sharply to see Bob throwing his shoulders back and straightening his suit. “Pardon me,” he muttered.
“Arrogant lush,” Tina sneered. “If I’d wanted to babysit dickheads, I would have kept teaching teenagers.” Her gaze pivoted to me, and she forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
Ezra looped his arm with mine. “I think that’s our cue to go.”
“Yep,” I agreed.
After we made our way out of the cafeteria, Ezra asked, “Do you think Ms. Nelson…” He let the question hang.
I picked it up. “…is our mysterious Mrs. P from the vision?”
Ezra nodded.
“She’s definitely at the top of the list.”
Chapter
Nine
While the trip to the kitchen hadn’t produced any revealing information or additional visions, we’d learned a few things. One, both Lynn Gleason and Tina Rothschild had been teachers, Lynn and Tim Dean had sunk all their money into this place and were in financial straits, and Robert Forester was supremely pompous. And quite possibly a drunkard. I’d estimated his age at late fifties, early sixties. Older than everyone else in the cast.
His speech pattern in the kitchen had reminded me of actors like David Odgen Stiers from M.A.S.H, or John Larroquette, from Night Court. I’d read once that Larroquette had developed his voice for radio. In other words, it had been an affectation, not his natural speaking voice. Forester had smoothly switched his voice between Principal Hughes and Tubbs Crockett, both different from the voice he’d projected in the kitchen.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go stalk Mr. Moore.” Aka Tony Morton.
“Who do you think Buzz is?” Ezra asked.
“Buzz?”
“The woman said that Buzz and T had creative differences.”
“That’s right,” I told him. “Tim Dean asked what was up between those two actors.”
Ezra took the playbill from his jacket pocket. “My memory is not nearly as sharp as yours.” He smiled. “There are three Ts, Tina, Tim, and Tony. We can rule out Tim because he’s the one who asked the question.”
“And Buzz.” I pointed to a name on the actor list. I rattled out my thought process. “Sawyer Johnson. Sawyer. Saw. Buzzsaw. Buzz.”
“Probably. There’s also Wendy Price. You said in the memory that the guy called the woman Mrs. P. Could it have been Wendy, instead?”
“Possibly,” I admitted. “It sounded like Winnie, but the names are similar.” I let out a growl of frustration. “This is the opening weekend. If the memory is right, that couple is plotting someone’s death.” I threw my hands up. “What’s the use of having this stupid psychic nose? Right now, it feels like a curse.”
“Nora,” Ezra said softly. “It’s a gift.” He cupped my face with his palm. “You’ve helped the police put away some really bad people, and in the process, you’ve saved lives.”
“But this is the first time we might be able to stop a murder. I don’t want to be part of the clean-up crew after the crime has been committed. If I can’t do that…”
“Honestly, Nora, we might not be able to stop whatever is going to happen. But, babe, it won’t be your fault. People are unpredictable. You can’t control what they do.”
“I know you’re right.” You can’t control the way other people behave, I’d told my goddaughter when her father had been arrested. You can only control the way you react to their behavior. Those words of wisdom I’d imparted to the teenager were not bringing me comfort now. “It doesn’t make me feel better.” Still, I managed to force a smile. “We’ll get the bad guys.”
Ezra nodded. “Okay. Where to next?”
Over the intercom, someone said, “All students, please go to the gymnasium.”
“Well, damn. Our density has been decided for us.”
He chuckled at my Back to the Future joke. “Come on, McFly.”
The gymnasium was still an artsy craftsy winter wonderland. The music was still playing, the lights had been dimmed again, and the disco ball was bouncing light everywhere. Suddenly, three spotlights hit the center court, lighting up Detective Crockett, A Flock of Seagulls dude, and both cheerleaders. Mr. Moore and Ms. Nelson stood nearby.
The music’s volume lowered, rendering it background noise.
“Part two of clues,” Gilly said as she sidled in next to me. “Did you find out anything new?”
“Maybe. How about you?”
“Nothing that screamed murder,” she said quietly. “Talk after?”
“Definitely.”
“I have a few questions,” Forester declared. The phony detective addressed A Flock of Seagulls first. “Mr. Bender, where were you when Biff Cruise was killed?” His voice was amplified over the speakers.
“Ms. Nelson took me out the back of the gym,” Bender answered. He was easily heard as well, which meant the actors were probably miked. “I wasn’t anywhere near the office. Or the library.”
“I left Mr. Bender to cool off,” Ms. Nelson said. “I can’t account for his whereabouts during the time leading up to Biff’s…death.” She sniffled. “Poor Biff.”
Bender turned a glare in her direction. “Why would I kill him?” He grabbed the brunette cheerleader, Mary Jane, around the waist and tugged her to him. “I already got the girl.”
She slapped him, and whoever was running the sound effects was doing a brilliant job because we all heard the crack bounce around the gym. “He’s dead because of you,” she said before turning on the blonde cheerleader. “And you! How could you tell him about Brian and me?”
The blonde sneered. “I didn’t have to tell him,” she said. “He already knew.” She pointed at Bender. “Biff said he would kill him. But Brian strangled him first!”
“Ms. Standish.” Crockett walked over to her. He pushed up the sleeves on his pastel jacket. “From what I’ve heard, you had a fight with Biff yesterday during study hall. Witnesses say you fled the classroom in tears. You wanna tell me what that was about?”
“It was…it was nothing,” she stammered.
Ms. Nelson put her arm around the blonde. “Don’t badger her, Detective. Can’t you see she’s upset?”
“That’s enough.” Mr. Moore stepped forward. “I can’t believe any of our students would kill Biff. He was a shining example in this school.”
The detective turned his gaze dramatically to the blonde cheerleader. “Is that true, Ms. Standish? Was Biff a shining example?”
“Biff knew a lot of things,” Leah said. “He…he knew stuff about people. Stuff he used to get his way.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know who killed him or why.” Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “But I’m not sorry he’s dead. And anyone here says different, then you know they’re lying.”
Two of the spotlights went out, and all the actors but Tubbs Crockett took a step back, leaving the fake detective in the single circle of light. “Biff Cruise was a keeper of dirty secrets. If you want to find who killed him, you must uncover the information the murderer wants buried.”
The lighting dimmed again. But it was enough light to see that the other five actors were gone. The volume of the music cranked back up to a dull roar.
“I didn’t see them go,” I said. “I was too busy watching the detective.”
“That’s the magic of showbiz.” Gilly sighed. “I’m really bummed. This murder plot would be a lot more fun if we weren’t looking for an actual almost murderer. I really wanted bragging rights.”
“If we stop someone from really dying this weekend,” Ezra told her. “I’ll let you read the Miranda rights.”
Her brows raised, and her eyes widened. “Really?”
“Can a citizen read a criminal the Miranda rights?” Scott asked. “That doesn’t seem like it would hold up in court.”
Gilly’s lower lip jutted. “Spoilsport.”
“I’m curious, is all,” Scott said. “If you want, I’ll let you read me my Miranda rights later tonight.”
“You have the right to remain sexy,” Gilly told him.
I choked on a laugh. “They must’ve amended the Miranda Act since the last time I heard it.”
“Yep.” Ezra gave me a quick wink. He looked at Scott. “I’m outside of my jurisdiction, so any arrest we make will have to be a citizen’s arrest until the Button Falls PD can send someone out here to take whoever into custody.”
“This means we have to catch them in the act, doesn’t it?” Scott asked.
I shook my head. “We just need proof of a plot.”
Ezra nodded. “It’s called conspiracy to commit murder, and it’ll get the perps life in prison, same as if they committed first-degree murder.”
“We’re going to definitely need more than my nose to prove it to the local police.”
Gilly nodded. “So, what did you guys find out?”
“That at least two of the actors used to be teachers. Lynn Gleason and Tina Rothschild.”
“The one playing Ms. Nelson gives me Loverlegs flashbacks,” Gilly said. “You remember that old battle-ax, Nora?”
Indeed, I did. “Mrs. Lovergorn.” I grimaced. “She gave me a C minus in civics because I mixed up a couple of words when we had to recite the constitution’s preamble.”
“She was definitely prickly.” Gilly snickered. “Which is why we called her Loverlegs. She always had leg hair poking out of her stockings.”
