Page 30 of Ghosted Cowboy
Inside, chaos.
The cast had formed a semicircle on stage, everyone staring at something. Rainey was in the center, her face drained of color but composed. Vivian paced back and forth, her red hair wild around her face. Clay had his clipboard out, making notes with an unsteady hand.
"What happened?" I vaulted onto the stage, went straight to Rainey.
She pointed to the costume rack. Her Evangeline dress—the elaborate Victorian saloon girl costume they'd spent weeks perfecting—hung in shreds. Someone had taken scissors or a knife to it, slashing through the crimson silk and black lace. Threads dangled like entrails from the torn fabric. But worse was the fake blood—or what I hoped was fake—poured over the entire thing, dripping onto the floor in thick, dark puddles. The metallic smell of it filled the air, mixing with the mustiness of the old theater until my stomach turned.
"Jesus." The word came out harsh.
"That's not all." Rainey's voice was steady, but I could see the tremor in her hands. "There was another note."
She handed me a piece of paper, same spidery handwriting as before:Final warning. Drop out or drop dead.
I went rigid with anger. Someone had been here. In the theater. Had destroyed her costume with deliberate, vicious intent.
"This is getting crazy!" Brooke's voice cut through my thoughts. She positioned herself near the destroyed costume, hands clasped in front of her. "Maybe... maybe Rainey should step down. For her own safety? And everyone else's too?"
Darcy remained beside her, phone out but not filming for once. She reached out to comfort Brooke, who leaned into the gesture dramatically.
"We can't let fear win," Knox Phillips said, but even the history teacher looked rattled.
"Fear?" Brooke's voice pitched higher. "Someone's threatening to kill her! This isn't about fear, it's about being smart. About protecting people."
"I already called Sheriff Turley," Vivian announced. "He should be here any—"
"What's all this about threats?" Sheriff Turley's voice came from the back of the theater, right on cue. He walked down the aisle, notepad already out, looking tired. "Got a call about vandalism and threatening notes?"
I handed him the paper. He read it, his expression darkening. "Drop out or drop dead. Well, that's more specific than we've seen before. Let me see the damage to the costume."
Turley methodically examined the ruined dress, took photographs, and spent the next twenty minutes getting statements from everyone present. By the time he finished and left with the costume as evidence, the cast was restless andanxious. Outside, rain had started in earnest now, pattering against the old roof.
Vivian called everyone to gather center stage. The theater felt colder somehow, the old building creaking in the wind.
"I'm dismissing everyone for the rest of the day," she announced, her usually commanding voice subdued. "Final dress rehearsal is canceled. I need... I need time to think."
A murmur went through the cast—disappointment, fear, frustration all mixing.
"Safety comes first," Vivian continued. "I have to weigh our options. We could go forward as planned, though that seems risky. We could have Brooke take the lead—"
Brooke straightened, trying not to look too eager.
"—or we could cancel the show altogether."
"No!" Several voices spoke at once.
June Caldwell stepped forward. "Vivian, we can't cancel. What would that mean for the festival? For the town?"
"The festival depends on this production," Bennett Cooper added, still in his doctor's costume from rehearsal. "Tickets are already sold."
"And someone's trying to destroy it," Mason said from the wings, where he'd been silently observing. His gaze locked on Rainey. "To hurt Rainey specifically."
Everyone started talking at once—arguments about duty to the town, safety concerns, financial implications. In the middle of it all, Rainey remained quiet, her jaw set with determination.
Then she spoke, cutting through the noise. "The show must go on. Even if it's without me."
"Rainey, no—" I started.
"If my presence is putting everyone at risk, then I should step aside." Her voice was steady, but I saw the devastation in her eyes. This role meant everything to her. "Brooke knows the part. She can—"
