Page 65 of Script Swap
Somehow, Bobby got Jonni moving toward the door.
But Jonni wasn’t done yet.“She did this.She killed Kyson.She tried to kill Terrence.She’s not on stage for most of the play.She had plenty of time.She did all of it!”
And then Bobby herded her out into the hall, and Jonni screamed once.The sound went on and on until the door fell shut with a clang.
Pippi had lost all her color.She inched backward from Nora, clutching her skirt in both hands.
The sheriff had her hand on her service weapon.“Ms.Day, I think we all need to go down to the station and talk about this.”
“Of course, Sheriff.But I’d like to suggest that you inspect the space above the dressing room first.”With a little Vivienne Carver smile, she said, “It is technically a crime scene, after all.”
“I appreciate you pointing that out,” the sheriff said.She was silent for several seconds.And then she said, “Ms.Day, for everyone’s safety, I’m going to take you into custody.Would you put your hands behind your back, please?”
“I don’t understand,” Nora said.“Is this some kind of formality?”A hint of Vivienne’s highbrowed manner came through.“I did you a favor, Sheriff.I handed you an open-and-shut case.”
“And I appreciate that.Right now, please put your hands behind your back.”
Incredulity swept across Nora’s face, and then a darkening cloud of rage.“How dare you—”
“She didn’t do it.”The voice came from the wings.“Nora didn’t do any of it.”
“Betty?”Fox said.“What are you talking about?”
“Betty, no,” Nora said.“It’s fine.This is a misunderstanding.”
The stage manager emerged from behind the piece of scenery meant to depict Vivienne’s study.She wore the familiar fishing vest and work pants combo, and she looked like she’d aged ten years overnight.One hand played with one of the vest’s pockets, zipping and unzipping it over and over.“Nora was with me during the performances.We kept each other company when she didn’t need to be on stage.There’s no way she could have done any of this.”
Pippi was shaking her head, her eyes still fixed on Nora, but whether it was in response to Betty’s statement or simply a continuation of her earlier reaction, I couldn’t tell.
The sheriff looked around one more time.And then, voice firm, she said, “All right, ladies.We’re all going down to the station.”
Chapter 16
It didn’t happen quite as quickly as that.The sheriff separated Nora and Betty.Then she radioed for Salk and waited for him to show up to secure the theater.Pippi, meanwhile, was trying to get into the dressing room—probably to take a few photos for Pippi’s Pen Pals—and wouldn’t leave until the sheriff threatened to arrest her.Fox excused themselves; they had to deal with the fact that there wouldn’t be any performances tonight.And Bobby had already left to take Jonni to the station.
Which left me alone on stage.
Nora had done it.Nora had killed Kyson.Nora had attacked Terrence.
And somehow, I’d missed it.I hadn’t seen anything that pointed her way, not until the end.Not until it was too late.And now itwastoo late, because I didn’t have any evidence.All I had was the gut-level certainty, as I’d watched Nora explain, that Jonni was right: Nora had done all of this.
And there wasn’t any way to prove it.
The world’s greatest detective, ladies and gentlemen.
Somehow, I ended up lying on the stage, eyes closed against the brightness of the work lights, which left red circles against the backs of my eyelids.The floor smelled dusty.And I smelled like flop sweat.When I shifted, the sound echoed hollowly up into the high ceiling of the house.It made me think of Milton skulking up there, and of the wrench that had come plummeting down and almost killed me.
Part of Nora’s plot?
I had no idea.
I went home.
Thinking about how badly I’d botched the investigation was too much for me right then, so my plan was to revise.I was going to finish that story.Tidy up the last bits, and either send it off again or trunk it so that I could start something new.That had always been one of my strengths as a writer: I was full of shiny new ideas begging to be written.(As a matter of fact, that had always been a weakness, too—I got so excited about my new ideas that I acted like one of those kittens chasing pieces of popcorn.)
So, I got myself settled in the den.Favorite blanket, check.Favorite mug of coffee, check.Favorite hassock, check.Laptop, check.Lamp, check.
Check, check, check.
