Stage Fright Read online

  “Of course not! Fiona would never do such a thing. I know she was unhappy when I chose this play, but once she takes on a job, she commits herself to it completely.”

  “Why doesn’t she like the play?” Nancy was surprised by this new bit of information.

  “I’m not positive—she didn’t explain. But she did try to convince me not to do it—even threatened to quit. I managed to talk her out of it.”

  “Does Joseph Brunner have a lot of enemies? Maybe someone wants to keep him from having a hit with his new play?” Nancy suggested.

  Evelyn shrugged. “I think he’s just nervous and a bit paranoid—not unlike many playwrights before an opening,” she added, grinning.

  They reached a clearing with twelve small cabins scattered around it in no apparent pattern. Evelyn directed the beam of her flashlight at one of the doors. “I’ve put you in Number Seven, George, and Nancy, you’re right next door in Number Eight. Ned’s across the way in Cabin Twelve. We can get him settled in later.” She unlocked the door and turned on the lights.

  “Wow, this is nice,” George said. “Pine floors, checked curtains, rag rug—it’s so New England.”

  Evelyn laughed. “You are in New England, my dear. Years ago this place was a summer camp. Can you believe they crammed four bunk beds and eight kids into each of these little cabins? I have the old pictures.”

  “Wow!” George looked around. “I’d say it was just the right size for one person now. Perfect, in fact.”

  “Well, I do put the two apprentices together. I’d better get back to the theater.”

  “Evelyn, before you go,” Nancy said, “I need to ask you about Charles Ferguson. What sort of person is he?”

  “Rich!” Evelyn said.

  “What else can you tell me?”

  “I have never met him. He moved in last spring, and so far I’ve only dealt with his lawyers. I gather he made a fortune in real estate and thinks that money can buy anything.”

  “Why does he want your land?” Nancy asked.

  “He hasn’t said, but he seems absolutely determined to buy it.”

  “Is there a possibility he could be behind the threats and fires?”

  Evelyn frowned. “I don’t know. I suspect he’s rather ruthless in business, but—”

  “I’d like to meet him tomorrow,” Nancy said.

  “All right, I’ll call to make an appointment.” She seemed thoughtful. “I have to get back. Sleep well.”

  After Evelyn left, Nancy asked George to join her in her cabin as soon as she unpacked. A short while later both girls were curled up on Nancy’s bed, sipping the hot chocolate Nancy had made on the cabin’s hot plate.

  “One suspect is Charles Ferguson,” Nancy said, beginning a list in her notebook. “We need to find out more about him, ASAP.”

  “Agreed,” George said. “Another is Fiona Sweeney, who must know all about special effects, including how to rig that scaffold.”

  “But she has an alibi for the time from the end of rehearsal to the beginning of dinner. Two people say she was with them.”

  “Maybe they’re covering for her,” George suggested.

  “Why? Unless they’re involved, too. I’ll have to question them again. Right now we should focus on the two people who were alone. They can’t prove where they were. Brunner could have slipped out of his cabin. No one would have known.”

  “Yeah, the cabins are isolated.” George looked at the dark window, but saw only the room reflected back at her.

  “And Matt—not only doesn’t he have an alibi, he’s also behaving suspiciously.”

  “What do you mean?” George sat up straight.

  “He seemed so nervous at dinner. He says it’s stage fright, but it could—”

  “No way!” George said. “Of course it’s stage fright! He’s probably never been in front of alive audience before. I’d be terrified, too.”

  “George, I know you have a crush on him, but—”

  “Me? A crush?” George snapped. “I have no crush on him. I just happen to think he’s a wonderful actor.”

  “Who’s also ultrahandsome,” Nancy teased.

  “That’s not funny!” George jumped up.

  “Take it easy. I only meant—”

  “I know what you meant, and it’s not true!” George grabbed her coat, jerked open the door, and ran to her own cabin.

  For a minute Nancy stood at the threshold. George rarely flew off the handle. Obviously, she’d fallen for Matt and didn’t know how to handle it.

  Nancy wished she could take back her words. She closed the door and leaned against it. Poor George, she thought. First thing in the morning she’d talk to her. In the meantime it was best to let her cool down and relax.

  Nancy glanced at her watch. It was late. Where was Ned? Still playing cards in the Lodge? She wanted to discuss what had just happened with him. He’d understand.

  She was headed for the bathroom to brush her teeth when she heard singing outside.

  “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way. Oh, what fun—” Pressing her face up close to the window she could make out Ned and Laura strolling down the path singing. Ned had his carry-on bag slung over his shoulder.

  “Great,” Nancy muttered. “Just great.” She slammed the bathroom door behind her and took out her frustration on her teeth, brushing furiously.

  When she went back into the main room, feeling slightly calmer, she found an envelope lying on her bed.

  She picked it up, opened it, and froze.

  The note read: I know who you are. Stop playing with fire. Go home before you get burned.

  Chapter

  Four

  NANCY FLUNG OPEN the door. The clearing was empty, although lights shone out from several cabin windows. She grabbed a flashlight to check for footprints, but the muddy ground had been tracked by too many feet.

  Back in the cabin, she studied the note, another computer printout, identical to the others.

  “Go home?” she said out loud. “Not until I find out who you are. And I will, believe me.” In spite of her resolve, however, she lay awake in the dark, thinking about the first sentence: “I know who you are.” Only Evelyn, Marla, and the guards knew that. Had someone else recognized her? Who? And how?

  • • •

  The next morning Nancy caught her breath as she peered out the window. A sudden freeze had swept over the rain-soaked world and turned it into a fairyland. Sparkling ice coated every branch, twig, and blade of grass. The bright sun turned each tiny ice drop into a rainbow prism.

  After dressing quickly, Nancy hurried to Ned’s cabin. She knocked and after a moment he opened the door a crack. His hair mussed, his eyes barely open, he told her he’d meet her at the Lodge. Annoyed, Nancy said she’d be waiting.

  When George opened her door, Nancy’s arm swept over the landscape. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

  George blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the brilliant light. “I had the shades down. Wow, what happened?”

  “Magic! Hurry and finish dressing. I’m starved.”

  George glanced down at her feet. “Um, you go ahead.”

  “You’re not still mad at me, are you?” Nancy asked. “I’m really sorry. Will you forgive me?”

  “Oh, sure,” George said vaguely before turning away. “Come on in while I get ready.”

  Nancy sat on the bed. “You don’t sound very happy. I wish I could take back everything I said last night.”

  “It’s not your fault,” George mumbled as she pulled a heavy blue sweater over her head. “It’s just that Matt makes me feel like such an idiot. I get all knotted up inside and can’t think of a single thing to say to him. It’s so—stupid!”

  “I understand, but you have to remind yourself that he’s just a guy who happens to make his living as an actor.”

  “Right. So why am I making a fool of myself over him?” George reached into the closet for her leather boots.

  “You’re not! I don’t think anyone
noticed except me, and that’s only because I know you so well. Look, just relax and treat him like an ordinary person—”

  “Who just happens to be ultrahandsome.” George jammed her foot into a boot. “And famous all over the country—”

  “And who still puts his boots on one foot at a time, just like you do.”

  George laughed lightly. “You’re right. I’ll try.”

  Nancy grinned. “You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

  While they walked to the Lodge through the woods beside the river, Nancy told George about the note she had found on her bed.

  “I can’t believe it. That means someone walked right into your cabin while you were brushing your teeth,” George said.

  “I think I would have noticed the note if it had been there when I first came in,” Nancy agreed.

  “Maybe someone recognized you from a previous case,” George suggested.

  “I’m positive I’ve never met anyone here before. I wonder if someone could have overheard us talking?”

  “Well, I’ll keep my ears open to hear if anyone drops a hint about your being a detective.”

  “Good.” Nancy nodded. “I was going to ask you to watch rehearsal this morning, anyway. Keep your eye on Joseph Brunner and Fiona. According to Evelyn, she’s been unusually tense and angry lately. See if you can find out why her behavior is so volatile.”

  “Sure. But I hope she’s not involved. I kind of like her.”

  No one was talking at the Lodge. It was almost too quiet. Fiona and the crew were probably too tired to speak since they’d been up most of the night. Joseph was making notes in his script. Only Evelyn and Marla were talking—and they whispered.

  Breakfast was relaxed until Matt arrived to take his seat. He sat down next to George again. “Good morning,” he said, smiling at her.

  George flashed Nancy a look of panic, then said quietly, “Morning.” She suddenly became very busy with her waffle, pouring syrup into each and every hole.

  Fortunately, Matt was too preoccupied with his script to notice.

  Ned arrived and had just sat down when a loud crash sounded.

  Nancy saw two plates upside down on the table in front of Matt and George. Yellow flecks of scrambled egg dotted the tablecloth.

  Everyone stared at Matt and George, who seemed to be frozen in place.

  Suddenly they both lifted their heads and their eyes met. Then they burst out laughing. Matt was laughing so hard Nancy thought she could detect tears in his eyes.

  Finally Matt began to explain, “She was passing me the—” He broke off, chuckling again.

  “Just as he passed me—” George gasped out.

  “And my plate hit her plate—” Matt mimed the two plates colliding.

  “And wham!” George giggled. “Are you going to send us to our rooms, Aunt Evelyn?”

  Evelyn grinned. “I should, you naughty children. How many times have I told you not to play with your food?”

  That set George and Matt off again and, one by one, the others joined in. Only Joseph sat silently, frowning.

  George and Matt chatted easily during the rest of breakfast. From the snatches of their conversation that Nancy overheard, she could tell that George was doing her best to reassure the insecure actor that he’d be great in the show.

  As soon as Ned finished eating, Nancy took him outside and explained what she planned to do. While George was in the theater, they would check out the compound for any clues.

  They caught the groundskeeper, Ed, as he was coming out of the Lodge. They asked if he could show them around, and he was more than happy to oblige.

  They stood on the Lodge’s riverside porch, looking out at the river. “She’s running fast now,” Ed said, “with all the rain we’ve had.”

  To their right was Evelyn’s house, also overlooking the cold blue water. Beyond it, Nancy saw a stable with two beautiful horses, a chestnut and a bay, in the paddock.

  To their left was the path to the cabins. The narrow trail was bounded by woods on one side and a steep drop to the river on the other. “That trail keeps going,” Ed said, “all the way into Bridgeville and eventually to Long Island Sound.”

  He took them along another path that led to the theater. The burned prop shed was an ugly black scar in the ice-covered ground. There was a parking lot on the far side of the Barn and large sheds between the theater and the woods. One housed the workshop where sets were built; another held racks of costumes and a small sewing area.

  “Why were so many of the props being used in this show kept in the shed that burned?” Nancy asked Ed. “Why not in the theater?”

  “I’ll show you.” Ed led them to the rear door of the Barn, into the backstage area. “See, back here you’ve got your dressing rooms and your greenroom with a coffee maker, fridge, and chairs.” They walked down a short corridor that gave way to the stage. “Then you’ve got your offstage area.” He pointed out a narrow, crowded space on the side of the set already filled with props and furniture.

  The stage manager, Sherri, was sitting there on a stool near heavy black curtains. She was wearing a headset and held a board with various gadgets attached to wires. As they watched, she pressed a button and a doorbell rang. Matt and Laura’s voices carried through the curtains from the stage.

  “I see,” Nancy whispered. “There sure isn’t room for six Christmas trees, is there? I had no idea the backstage area was so small. The Barn seems so big from the outside.”

  “If you had planned it,” Ed asked as they returned to the corridor outside the greenroom, “what would you do? Put in as many seats as you could for the audience or give your crew a nice big prop room?”

  “You seem to know a lot about theater,” Nancy said, smiling.

  “Well, now, I’ve been known to do my bit. Not as much as the likes of them, of course,” he said, pointing in the direction of the stage.

  “Thanks for the tour, Ed,” Nancy said. “Now I want to take a closer look at the burned shed,” she said to Ned.

  Nancy and Ned went back outside and poked around the ruins. Gradually Nancy expanded the search. About twenty feet away in a cluster of pine trees she found an empty kerosene can lying under a bush. She picked it up. It was rusted and caked with wet leaves.

  “It looks like it’s been here for months,” Ned said.

  “Yes,” Nancy agreed. “And even if it was used to start the fire in the shed and tossed here yesterday, we’d never be able to find fingerprints on it.” Then she stopped and thought. “But I’m going to hang on to it, anyway, just in case.”

  She and Ned stashed the can in Nancy’s cabin.

  The sun was melting the ice and the trees were dripping by the time they returned to the theater to see how rehearsal was going.

  “Oh, boy,” George said when they sat down next to her near the back of the theater. “They call this a ‘tech,’ but I call it a mess. Everything’s going wrong.”

  “What does ‘tech’ mean?” Ned asked.

  “It’s short for technical rehearsal. The crew is trying to get the lighting and sound cues coordinated.”

  “Hold it!” Evelyn called from the front row. “Jerry, downstage right is still in shadow. Can you fix it?”

  “I’ll try,” the lighting man called from the booth on their right. One side of the stage suddenly lit up brightly.

  “I said downstage right, not left.” Evelyn’s voice was patient. The too-bright area dimmed, but nothing else happened. “What’s the problem?”

  “We’re going to have to refocus,” Jerry said. “Ben, get the scaffold.”

  The actors continued, working around Ben, who scrambled up and down the scaffold with a big wrench, adjusting the angle of the lights.

  “Laura plays Angel Divine,” George whispered. “This is the third scene, and she’s just auditioned for a Hollywood producer. Matt is her boyfriend, and he doesn’t want her to move to California.”

  There was a sudden pause in the dialogue. Matt rolled his eyes. “I
said, I can’t just pick up and move west. My job is here.”

  Silence.

  “Where is the telephone?” Matt shouted. “The stupid phone is supposed to ring as soon as I say, ‘My job is here!’ ”

  Silence.

  “What’s the problem, Sherri?” Evelyn said.

  “There’s something wrong with the connection.” She poked her head out around the curtain.

  “That’s it! I’ve had it!” Matt threw his script down. “Not once has that phone rung on cue. Call me when you have finally made the connection!” He stalked off the stage, past the anxious stage manager.

  No one said a word for a moment, then Evelyn said calmly, “He’ll be fine once he cools down. Fiona, would you read Matt’s lines?”

  Fiona, who was sitting next to her, stood up and began to take off her headset.

  “Fiona, darling,” Laura said softly from the stage. “I’d really rather have a man read. It’s much easier for Angel to relate to a man.”

  “Jerry’s running the light board,” Fiona said. “Ben is busy, as you can see, and Howie’s in the box office. I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with me.

  “Well, what about Ned?” Laura smiled gently. “Would you be willing to help out, Ned, darling?”

  “But I’m not an actor,” he said.

  “Oh, please,” Laura begged. “I’m sure you’ll be very good at it.”

  He stood up slowly. “Well, I did do a commercial once. Would you like me to fill in, Evelyn?”

  “Why not give it a try?” she answered. “I really need Fiona backstage, anyway.”

  Ned loped down the aisle, ran up on stage, and picked up Matt’s script. Laura helped him find the place. She was standing a little closer than was really necessary, Nancy thought.

  “Why don’t we pick it up after the phone call?” she suggested sweetly.

  Nancy watched Ned read the scene, amazed that Laura had talked him into it. He’d never shown any interest in acting before, but she had to admit he did look awfully handsome up there.

  Sometime later Nancy realized that George was gone. Shrugging, she focused on the play. Ned was beginning to read pretty well as he came to understand the character and what the scene required. Eventually, the phone did ring on cue.