Stage Fright Read online

  Nancy described the contraption to Ned, then scrambled down. “Let’s find out where the line leads.”

  They hurried over to the wall and finally spotted the transparent line. It dangled down from the rafters and stopped a couple of feet over their heads.

  “Someone cut it,” Ned said, disappointed.

  “But it must have run through more hooks. We should be able to find them.” They searched all along the wall but found no trace. The hooks must have been removed. The wall was made of rough board, scraped, scarred, and pitted with more than a hundred years of use. They couldn’t even find holes left by the hooks.

  Nancy spoke slowly. “Ned, we knew it before, but now it really hits me. We are looking for someone who is extremely clever. Someone who is very determined. I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll be able to catch this someone before opening night. If we don’t, when the curtain goes up tomorrow, it really might be in flames.”

  Chapter

  Twelve

  NANCY TOSSED AND TURNED all night, dreaming about fires. At breakfast she watched the logs burning in the Lodge’s cozy hearth and saw in her mind’s eye the Barn blazing out of control. The thought terrified her.

  The day passed in a flurry of activity. The excitement of the night before had turned to panic as everyone scurried to take care of a hundred and one details. There was so much to be done and so little time to do it that Nancy and her friends found themselves caught up in the production.

  Evelyn had scheduled a full run-through, of the play for the morning and again for the afternoon. Nancy thought “stumble-through” would have been a better description for both rehearsals.

  Matt dropped line after line and insisted that George work with him during every break. One of Laura’s costumes suddenly didn’t fit, and Liz had to alter it twice before the actress was satisfied.

  Then three more lights blew, and Fiona had to send Howie all the way to New Haven to get more because the replacement shipment hadn’t arrived. Nancy was asked to fill in for him at the box office. The phone rang constantly, although the play was sold out for the entire run.

  The couch for scene five hadn’t been delivered, so Ned helped Jerry and Ben carry over the one from Evelyn’s living room.

  Joseph was impossible through it all. He was all over the theater, raging at one scene, praising another, fretting about the set, the lights, the costumes, shouting at Evelyn, the cast, and especially the crew.

  Ned reported that he’d caught him in the greenroom and tried to find out if he knew the Barn’s word-processing program. Joseph had just stared at Ned as if he’d come from Mars, then stalked off.

  Nancy became more and more frustrated as the day flew by. Everyone was so busy and nerves were so ragged that she had little hope of pinning down the arsonist. That day nothing in the world existed except Alias Angel Divine.

  The only solid information Nancy managed to get came from her father. When she called him, late in the day, he reported that Charles Ferguson had a reputation as a tough, shrewd businessman but had never been suspected of illegal activities. However, he had bought out two companies that had been destroyed by suspicious fires.

  “He picked up a place called Medford Mills for a song two years ago,” Carson explained. “A fire had gutted the building, but the brick exterior was solid. He threw a few million dollars into it, turned it into a classy condominium with shops and restaurants, and has already made back his investment.”

  “Wow,” Nancy said.

  “He did the same thing with an old factory in Rhode Island twelve years ago and has made a fortune ten times over with it.”

  “Was either fire proved to be arson?”

  “No. But even if it was, that doesn’t mean he was behind it.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” Nancy was quiet for a moment. “What about Joseph Brunner? Anything suspicious in his background?”

  “Nothing except a lawsuit by a lady who claimed he based his first Broadway hit on some confidential information she gave him,” Carson Drew replied.

  “Did she win the case?”

  “No, he did. And of course the scandal helped sell more tickets, making it an even bigger hit.”

  “It doesn’t seem fair, does it?” Nancy said.

  “Not to me, it doesn’t.”

  They spoke a few more minutes, then Nancy headed over to the Lodge.

  Matt didn’t come to dinner. He and George were holed up in his cabin, going over lines. George was so worried about him that she said she couldn’t eat.

  Nancy’s anxiety grew as she donned a stylish black miniskirt, tights, pumps, and a blue silk tunic for the opening. She couldn’t remember when she’d been so frustrated by a case. She tried to tell herself that if a fire did break out, they were well prepared for it.

  George and Ned, plus two security guards, would be backstage during the performance. Four other guards, dressed as members of the audience, would mingle with the crowd. Fire extinguishers stood ready in every corner of the theater.

  As Nancy made her way to the theater, she noticed that the parking lot was already filling up and the audience was streaming into the Barn. Just then she saw a silver sports car screech to a halt in front of Evelyn’s house. Charles Ferguson got out, ran up the front steps, and pounded on the door.

  Nancy went inside the theater and found Evelyn and Marla in the lobby. “You have a visitor,” she told the director.

  The three of them hurried over to the house. Ferguson was pacing up and down the porch, scowling.

  “May I help you?” Evelyn said.

  Ferguson wheeled around and stared at her. “You’re Evelyn Caldwell.” It sounded like an accusation.

  “How do you do, Mr. Ferguson.” She held out her hand.

  He ignored it. His eyes didn’t leave her face. “I’ve come to double my offer.”

  “Double it?” Evelyn laughed. “Thank you, anyway, but I have no plans to sell the Barn.”

  “You have to sell. If you don’t, I’ll go to the zoning board and make them listen to me,” he said.

  “I think you’ll find my permits are in order and that the town fully backs this theater. We generate a lot of profit for local restaurants and businesses.”

  “Look at all this traffic! And noise! I won’t stand for it!”

  “It will quiet down once the curtain goes up,” Evelyn assured him.

  “And start up all over again as soon as I go to bed!” he fired back at her.

  Evelyn raised her eyebrows at him. “You go to bed at ten o’clock on Friday nights?”

  For a minute it seemed as if she’d bested him, but then he shook himself out of his daze. “I’m not here to discuss my sleeping habits. Name your price and I’ll meet it. This theater has to go!”

  Evelyn gave him a lovely smile. “Have you ever seen a play, Mr. Ferguson?”

  “Of course I have,” he blurted out. “On Broadway. That’s where theaters belong, not in my backyard.”

  “Would you like to see the play tonight?” she asked with delight. “I can guarantee you’ll be in bed by ten-thirty at the latest. I’d be happy to give you a complimentary ticket.”

  He froze, his eyes still fixed on Evelyn’s beautiful face. “You were in A Stranger Calls, weren’t you?”

  “Yes. That was one of the first movies I made. Did you like it?”

  He gulped. “You were the woman on the train.”

  “Yes.”

  “You wore a black veil,” he went on.

  “Yes, I did. I hate to change the subject, but it’s almost curtain time. Would you like to stay to see the play this evening?”

  He started shaking his head, as if the fact that he was talking to the Evelyn Caldwell was only just sinking in.

  “Is that a yes?” Evelyn’s smile became dazzling.

  “Yes. I said yes.” He bit off the words.

  “Then come with me.” She linked her arm through his, and they strolled over to the theater.

  Marla looked at Nancy and said, �
�They don’t call her the Lion Tamer for nothing.”

  “What do you mean?” Nancy asked.

  “The fiercest man turns into a pussycat when she’s around.” Marla was only half joking.

  Nancy glanced at her watch. Only a few minutes to curtain. “I have to check with the guards again.” She started for the Barn.

  “Surely you don’t think all these precautions are necessary, do you? I mean, isn’t it a bit much?” Marla hurried to keep up with her.

  “Not when lives may be at stake,” Nancy said.

  “My goodness, what a worrywart you are. I agree with Evelyn. As much as I dislike Joseph and Ferguson, I’ve decided the whole thing is just a ridiculous joke. No one would actually set fire to a theater with over two hundred people in it.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Nancy left Marla in the lobby and checked in with the guards. She whispered to the one closest to Ferguson, pointing him out. The guard would follow him throughout the evening. Another one had been assigned to Joseph, who was pacing up and down at the rear of the house.

  When Nancy went around to the stage door, she found the backstage in chaos.

  Matt was trembling so hard his wheelchair shook. George sat next to him, murmuring encouragement. Laura flitted between dressing room and greenroom, fishing for compliments from Ned every two seconds. Sherri was having problems with the headset that connected her to the lighting booth. Both security guards said everything was fine.

  “Good lu—” Nancy began to say as she left.

  “No! No!” Laura snapped. “Never say that! The theater ghost will hear you, and heaven knows what disasters will follow.”

  “Right, I forgot,” Nancy said. “Break a leg.”

  “Thank you, darling. Ned, do you really think this hairstyle is flattering?”

  Ned tossed Nancy a look of helpless frustration. She covered her mouth with her hand, hiding a giggle, and left.

  She hurried back to the lobby and saw the ushers, the two apprentices, closing the doors behind the last few people entering the theater. They then went backstage to help with scene changes.

  Nancy heard the opening music begin and was about to go into the theater when she smelled something.

  Smoke!

  Chapter

  Thirteen

  NANCY PEERED down the hallway off the lobby. The men’s room door was ajar, and a wisp of smoke was creeping out.

  Should she call the guards? The fuss and commotion would disrupt the play. No, she’d investigate first.

  Grabbing a fire extinguisher, she ran down the hall. The tall metal wastebasket just inside the door was in flames. Nancy directed a stream of foam at it. The fire was quickly smothered, and in less than a minute all that remained was a wet, smoky mess.

  Nancy turned on the ventilation fan and opened the window. Piece by piece, she sorted through the soggy paper towels. Halfway down, she came across the remains of a cigarette filter. Had someone tossed a lighted cigarette into the wastebasket? By accident? Or on purpose?

  There was no way to be certain. Briefly Nancy thought of calling the police, but what could they do? And Evelyn would be furious.

  She placed the wet towels back in the can, took it down the hall to the utility closet, and covered it with a plastic garbage bag. The evidence would be safe there in case it was needed later.

  She found an empty wastebasket and put it in the men’s room, which was almost aired out by now. By intermission no one would guess that a fire had been started in there.

  Posting one of the security guards in the lobby, she went into the theater. Once her eyes adjusted to the dark, she spotted Evelyn, Ferguson, and Marla sitting in the last row. Joseph stood against the back wall in the corner.

  Nancy studied the playwright. It didn’t take a vast knowledge of arson to toss a lighted cigarette into a can full of paper towels. But with the security guard following his every move, would he have had the opportunity? She’d check with the guard at intermission.

  Joseph Brunner was not a pleasant person, but would he stoop to arson with a theater full of people? If so, what would his motive be? If tonight’s performance was a success, maybe he’d relax so that she, or Ned, could get him to talk.

  Charles Ferguson, though, had a strong motive, and he’d had the opportunity to start the fire. Nancy planned to ask Evelyn whether she’d been with him all the time before he’d taken his seat and been assigned a security guard by Nancy.

  A burst of laughter from the audience made Nancy focus on the stage. It was the scene where Matt tried to teach Angel how to cook a turkey dinner. Nancy had thought it was funny the first time she’d seen it, and now, with the audience, she began to enjoy the play again.

  Laura was not only good in the part, she was brilliant. She floated around the stage as if in her own home, beautiful, selfish, dangerous, completely the Angel Divine.

  Matt was incredibly elegant, even in a wheelchair. Most surprising of all, he spoke the dialogue as if he’d never dropped a line in his life. Nancy watched him glide through sections that had always given him trouble. George must be relieved, Nancy thought.

  Nancy became more and more involved in the play. It moved along so quickly compared to rehearsals that she was surprised when the act ended and the lights went up for intermission. The applause was enthusiastic.

  Evelyn was practically dancing on air during intermission as theater patrons heaped praise on the play and on her direction. Nancy caught her alone for a second and whispered a quick question in her ear.

  “Yes, Charles went into the men’s room before the play.” Evelyn spotted someone over Nancy’s shoulder. “Janice! How wonderful of you to come! Nancy, this is my friend Janice Johnson. Janice is what we in the theater call an angel.”

  Nancy shook a hand that glittered with rings. “Hello,” she said, smiling. “I don’t believe I’ve ever met an angel before.”

  The lady laughed. “That’s what they call those of us who are foolish enough to invest money in plays. And, Evelyn, you’ll think I’m particularly angelic tonight, because I think this play shows a lot of promise. If the second act holds up, I just might consider backing it in New York.”

  “Terrific!” Evelyn glowed. “I know you won’t be disappointed. The second act is even stronger than the first.”

  Nancy slipped away. It wasn’t the right time to tell Evelyn about the fire.

  She found the guard assigned to Joseph, and he swore he hadn’t let him out of sight for an instant. Yes, Brunner had smoked a cigarette but only outside the Barn.

  By the time she checked with the other guards, intermission was over. Nancy went into the theater and was soon caught up in the play again.

  When the curtain came down, the applause was thunderous. The audience demanded one curtain call after another. Finally the curtain was lowered for the last time. Excitement was in the air as people began to drift out into the night.

  Nancy made her way backstage, where the cast and crew crowded together, celebrating.

  “They loved it! They loved me!” Laura cried, dancing around, still in costume.

  Matt sat in his wheelchair, beaming, while he accepted congratulations. “It was only nerves, as Evelyn predicted. Once I got out there and felt the audience, well—all I can say is the magic happened.” He shook his head, grinning. “What a feeling.”

  He was holding George’s hand. Now he squeezed it and gave her an adoring look. “You helped make it possible.”

  George was enormously pleased and terribly embarrassed. She didn’t say a word, but her joy was clear. Nancy caught Ned’s eye across the room. His eyebrows went up, and she knew he’d noticed, too.

  Fiona took Nancy aside. “I listened to the comments in the lobby. Everyone knows Joseph bases his characters on real people, and they were all guessing who Angel was. Not one person mentioned my mother!”

  “I’m so glad,” Nancy said. “Are you going to forgive Joseph now?”

  “No way. He told me he’s going to make me pay
for a new laptop computer. Once a skunk, always a skunk,” she proclaimed.

  Just then Evelyn arrived. “Charles Ferguson loved the play,” she told Nancy. “He wouldn’t admit it, of course, but I could tell.”

  “Hurry up, everyone,” Fiona called. “Set up the stage for tomorrow’s performance, then let’s head for the Lodge. The reviews should be on TV pretty soon.”

  Soon everyone was scurrying around hanging up costumes, resetting props, collecting discarded programs, and folding up the seats. In a half hour they finished and gathered in the Lodge around the big-screen TV. Nancy found herself caught up in the tension. Would the reviews be good?

  She had noticed that several men and women had rushed up the aisle as soon as the curtain came down. Now she realized that these were local television critics, hurrying to meet their deadlines. The reviews were vital. They could make or break Evelyn’s chances of taking Alias Angel Divine to Broadway.

  The first TV station to carry a review was Channel 30. “Matt Duncan has proved he’s far more than a handsome face,” the critic said. “And Laura James gave the performance of her life.”

  Cheers went up and they switched the TV to Channel 8, where the reviewer was just launching in. “A bold new play, both hilarious and thought- provoking. . . . Extraordinary performances by two highly talented actors whose stars will be rising,” he claimed.

  More cheers rang out, followed by yet another review on Channel 3. This one was entirely devoted to Evelyn’s direction, saying it showed a true understanding of the quirky but engaging characters and deepest meanings of the play.

  The Lodge erupted in joyful shouts, hugs and kisses, slaps on the back, pure delight. Nancy looked around at the happy crowd. No one knew that the Barn had almost burned down, Nancy thought.

  Now that they’d made it safely through opening night, did that mean the arsonist would give up? Or was he just waiting for another chance to strike?

  Chapter

  Fourteen