Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 08 - Foul Play (7 page)

CHAPTER 9

My mouth dropped open. “What? Are you serious? Congratulations!”

I threw my arms around her. When we pulled out of the hug, she was still grinning. And my friend wasn’t a huge smiler. Marriage had softened her up some, and I was sure that having a baby would do that even more. It wasn’t that long ago she’d lived and breathed her job as an animal rights activist.

She laughed and pushed her glasses up higher. “Yes, I’m serious.”

“I can’t believe it. Here I was going on and on about Africa. You should have stopped me!”

“I love hearing about your adventures. There was no reason to stop you.”

“Of course there was. You’re having a baby! I want to hear everything. Everything! When are you due?”

“In June.”

“June?” I did a quick calculation. “So you’re four, five months already?”

She nodded and rubbed her belly. “I’m not showing yet. I wanted to get past the first trimester and then some before I said anything. We just found out
this week that it’s a boy.”

I leaned back hard. “I can’t believe this, Sierra. I’m so happy for you guys.”

“We’re happy, too. This wasn’t really planned, but we’re ready.”

“Are you moving? Will you keep working? Do you have any names picked out yet?”

Sierra laughed at my slew of questions. “We don’t know yet. We’re still trying to figure some things out. I think this is one more reason Chad has been pushing so hard to really make the most of the business. He’s going to have a family to support soon.”

“You’re going to be a great mom, Sierra.” I smiled, imagining her with a baby.
It was easy. I just replaced the mental image of her cradling one of her cats with one of her with an infant. If she loved that baby half as much as she loved her animals, motherhood would be a piece of cake for her.

We talked for a few more minutes
and then she went back downstairs.

When I was alone in my apartment, I huddled on my couch. One thought remained in my mind. Everyone was
growing up except me. I was stuck here in the same place I’d been since I dropped out of college.

Why wasn’t I making any effort to change that?

***

The next day, i
n between cleaning one crime scene and working on a bathroom remodel at another—that was Chad’s idea—I researched various cast members. Paulette had given me a list of first and last names. I hopped on the Internet and searched for anything interesting about them, as well as looked at their social media pages, which generally revealed way too much about people.

At the end of my research,
I wasn’t any farther along than when I started. I definitely didn’t see anything that would indicate I should investigate one cast member over another.

Until I came to
Jerome.

Absolutely nothing came up when I searched for
him, which was highly unusual for an actor who wanted to make a name for himself. I needed to ask some more questions about him, and I hoped I might get my opportunity to do that at practice this evening.

Out of curiosity, I did a search for “Riley Thomas.” I knew it was a long shot that any articles would come up, but this was my once a week ritual.

My eyes widened when a news bit popped up at the top of the screen. My heart fell into my stomach as I read the words.

“Riley Thomas named junior partner at Smith, Gleason, and Aims.”

I read the article, just to make sure I wasn’t jumping to conclusions. I wasn’t. Riley was going back to work. As a lawyer.

He was moving on. Establishing himself again. Taking on commitments, responsibilities.

Even more, he was developing permanency. Up in DC. Nowhere close to me.

I couldn’t believe it.

Nor could I believe the fact that he hadn’t told me.

Spontaneously,
I walked across the hallway to Riley’s old apartment. I tried to avoid it as much as I could because there were too many bad memories. Riley was subletting the space to his cousin. She was considerably younger and taking classes at a nearby culinary school. I’d interacted with her a few times and she seemed nice enough.

Before I could second guess myself, I knocked at the door. To my surprise, Olivia answered. Her eyes widened when she saw me. “Gabby! Hi, there.”

“Hey, Olivia.” I stood there a moment. Why in the world was I going to tell her I was here? This was where planning really came in handy. “I was wondering if you had any flour? I’m going to bake a … cake. That’s right. A cake. And I’m out of flour, of all things.”

Actually, I never bought flour because I never baked. Never.

“It’s kind of hard to make a cake with no flour! Of course I have some. Come on in.”

I stepped inside, watching her walk into the kitchen. In so many ways, she looked like Riley. They both had dark hair and blue eyes. She had pleasant, even features and seemed grounded.

“So, what kind of cake are you making?” she asked, standing on her tiptoes and reaching into a cabinet.

What kind of cake? I glanced around the apartment, looking for an idea. My gaze fell on a bag of chips. “It’s called a potato chip cake.”

A potato chip cake? Really, Gabby?

Her head swerved toward me, her nose scrunched in distaste
. “I’ve heard of a lot of things but never that. Have you had it before?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. I thought everyone had
. They’re all the rage. Sweet and salty.”

She raised her eyebrows before reaching
back into the cabinet for a canister of flour. “You’ll have to let me know how it turns out.”

“Of course.
”

My gaze fell on the TV stand and I froze. There
was a new picture there. A picture of Riley. With a woman.

What?

I inched closer, certain I was seeing things.

No, sure enough, there was Riley with his arm around a blonde wearing hospital scrubs. A lump formed in my throat.

“Here you go!” Olivia handed me the canister.

I pushed away the emotions that wanted to flood out and took the canister. “
Thank you,” I mumbled.

“No problem. If you have any extra, I’d love a piece! Maybe I’ll impress my instructor with it.
It could be the next big thing since chocolate covered bacon.”

I forced a smile. “I’ll let you know.” I started to the door and paused. “How’s Riley, by the way?”

Her smile slipped. “He’s hanging in. Seems to be returning to his old self. That’s all we’ve been praying for.”

I nodded. “Me, too.”

***

Garrett picked me up at
4:00 and drove me to my former teacher’s house. I tried to put aside thoughts of Riley and betrayal and a million other emotions I was still trying to identify.

Maybe Sierra was right. It was time for me to move on. Riley had. Why shouldn’t I?

As soon as I got home, I was going to find a box and pack away all my reminders of him. I still had his sweatshirt. The first rose he’d given me—I’d pressed it between the pages of an old dictionary. I had pictures of us stuffed in my drawers.

My first step would be to get rid of those things. It would be healthy. I had to remove t
he physical ties to the past before I could remove the emotional ones.

However, it was hard to move forward when pieces of my past continued to
resurface. Aside from the whole Riley thing, I suddenly had been thrust back in time at my old middle school, surrounded by people from my tween days, and remembering life as it had been many years ago.

My heart pounded in my ears as
Garrett and I pulled into a familiar neighborhood. “This is the same street where Mrs. Baker used to live back when I was in middle school. I dog sat for her once.”

I smiled as I remembered those days of trying to earn extra money, of riding my bike all over town, of having my first boyfriend. It seemed like another lifetime ago. Back when
Mom was alive. She’d worked so hard to keep the family both afloat and together.

I wondered what my life would be like today if
Mom hadn’t died. If my brother hadn’t disappeared. If my dad hadn’t become a drunk.

If my life hadn’t taken detours.

My life had taken a lot of unexpected turns. Maybe it was time to take back some control in my life and start calling the shots.

Again, I was traveling back in time. But I had to make peace with my past before I could
march into the future … right?

“
Did you grow up in this area?” Garrett asked.

“I lived only a few blocks away. I haven’t been back here since
my mom died.” I shook my head, pushing away the memories.

“Lots of memories, huh?”

“You could say that. I’ll have to show you where I grew up sometime,” I told him, my gaze fixated out the window. “It’s nothing like your childhood home.”

Garrett had grown up in a 10,000 square foot mansion with tennis courts.
Well, that was one of his homes. His family came from old money. But even being rich hadn’t spared them heartache. In fact, it may have added to their troubles.

“I’m sure it’s simply charming.”

“I’ll let you keep thinking that.” I hadn’t been back to my old place in years, nor had I ever shown anyone what it looked like. My home wasn’t exactly something to be proud of. While I hadn’t lived in a trailer, I had lived in a duplex in a not-so-nice part of town. The grass had always been overgrown, our van had been ghetto with its faded paint and missing hubcaps, and our driveway had boasted oil stains.

I thought I was taking steps to move away from repeating the mistakes of my parents. I’d always wanted to do better for myself. But maybe I was really just heading in the same dir
ection—the direction of going nowhere.

I pointed to a small lit
tle bungalow in the distance. “That’s it. That’s Mrs. Baker’s house.”

I guess I should
have called her Mrs. Harper, but she’d always be Mrs. Baker to me.

We
parked and climbed out of the car.

I did a me
ntal “cheers” to myself.
Here’s to exploring yet another part of your past, Gabby. And here’s to learning how to let go.

CHAPTER 10

I paused on the driveway, trying to gather my wits,
and Garrett pulled me closer. “I just want to say thank you for inviting me along. I know this Mrs. Baker means a lot to you. I also know that revisiting the days of old isn’t always easy.”

I smiled up him
. “I’m glad you can be here. More than glad—I’m grateful.”

He looked at me a moment like he wanted to say more. I saw it in his eyes, in his lingering gaze. But instead he grinned and took my hand. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”

Something about feeling my hand in Garrett’s warmed my heart. At the moment, I didn’t feel like I was all alone in the world. But there was so much more at stake here than my loneliness. Would I ever love anyone else as much as I’d loved Riley? I didn’t know, but I really needed to start giving that some thought.

Mrs. Baker
answered the door, her eyes lighting when she spotted us on the stoop. After a quick round of introductions, we were whisked inside.

I spotted
Mrs. Baker’s husband Amos standing in the background. His hair was graying and his face had thinned out some. But he still looked ornery and tough and like the man who’d ultimately made Mrs. Baker a very happy woman.

“Gabby St. Claire.
” He shook his head and, for a moment, I thought he wasn’t happy to see me. Then a grin spread across his face. “First time I met you I thought you were stealing my sister’s dog. Look at you now! All grown up.”

H
e actually hugged me before doing that guy hug and handshake thing with Garrett.

Then I met Mrs. Baker’s daughter
, Larissa. I nearly gawked.

The girl was 13
. She had curly hair that looked like she’d tried to straightened. Her gaze looked determined, curious.

She
reminded me of … well—me—when I was that age.

For a moment, and just a moment, I wanted to be transported back
to my younger days. I wanted to see my mom again. I wanted to eat her applesauce pancakes with candied walnuts. I wanted to hear her call me Tootsie. I wanted to let her know how much I missed her.

I’d had an entirely different set of problems back then, but I’d been too young and naïve to worry about things like food and housing. Instead I
’d worried about boys and cliques at school and how I’d ever make up for taking my eyes off my brother long enough for someone to snatch him.

“Let’s eat before everything gets cold
,” Mrs. Baker said. “We have play practice in an hour and a half anyway. I wish we had more time, but I’ll take what I can get.”

We sat down to roa
st beef, mashed potatoes, green beans, and rolls—if I ate good food like this every night, I’d gain twenty pounds.

“How’s your mom, Gabby?”
Mrs. Baker asked, taking a sip of tea.

My throat burned. “She actually passed away while I was in college. Cancer.”

“Oh, Gabby. I’m so sorry. She was such a nice woman.” She reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

“She was. My dad’s still around. He actually has a job now. That’s a good first step. About 18 years late, but …”

When my brother disappeared, my dad quickly cascaded into a downward spiral that should have made the record books. He’d gone from a champion surfer to couch potato drunk faster than you could say, “Cowabunga, dude!” My mom had worked two jobs to pay the bills while my father had his license and any good sense taken away.

“Better late than never?” Mrs. Baker filled in
with raised eyebrows.

“Exactly.”

We talked for several minutes, catching up. Then the subject turned to the play. I wanted to get a feel from her about what was going on.

“It’s all been very strange, Gabby
,” Mrs. Baker said, slicing an apple pie. “Someone is obviously sabotaging everything, I just can’t for the life of me figure out why. Then there’s Scarlet …”

“What did you know about her?”

Mrs. Baker let out a long breath as she handed out dessert. “To tell you the truth—not much. I have a feeling no one did. She kept to herself a lot and didn’t share many personal details. She was a talented actress. I don’t know if she was Broadway material, but she had something there.”

“Did you see any
arguments between Scarlet and anyone else?”

She
sat down and raised her fork. “Now that you mention it, I did see her and Arie whispering rather heatedly about something last week. I didn’t think much of it—creative differences, I assumed. I was glad to see that at least they were talking about it.”

I stored away that information for later.

“Do you know if she was dating anyone?”

Mrs. Baker shook her head. “Not that I know of. But I do have an idea for you. I think
Scarlet took one of the costumes home—the nun habit. She volunteered to have it altered since it was long on her. It would be a great excuse for you to stop by and see where she lives without seeming suspicious. I do believe she mentioned a roommate to me once.”

I grinned.
“I knew I liked you.”

Mrs. Baker laughed. “Oh, Gabby. I’m so proud of you. I always knew you’d turn out well.”

Apparently she thought being a crime scene cleaner equated to turning out well. Who was I to argue with her?

***

“Stop! He’s trying to kill me!” I screamed.

The lights
in the auditorium went black.

I held my breath
, waiting to see what happened next.

To my relief, applause broke out from the cast.

We’d just finished Act Two, and we’d survived.

Despite that, p
ractice today was going worse than yesterday, and that was saying a lot.

To make
matters even uglier, Arie had shown up before practice started and she was in a mood.

Primarily
, she still wasn’t happy about me and felt like she should have had input before Paulette made the decision to bring me on. She addressed the issue in front of everyone right after we’d rehearsed Act One.

I stared at her now, waiting for her reaction, because I was sure she’d have one.

“I just don’t think this is going to work,” she muttered, casting a withering look my way.

I glanced at Paulette, waiting for her to say something, but she
sat there looking like a deer caught in the headlights. I had no choice but to stand up for myself since no one else was.

“I’ll be fine in the role,
Arie.” I really had no idea if I would be fine or not. I wasn’t going to tell
her
that, though.

“I don’t want
fine
. I want
great
. Outstanding. Stupendous.
Fine
is
failure
.” She flung her hands in the air, probably meant to emphasize her stress but instead making her look crazy.

I took a step back
. “I think you’re overreacting.”

That caused her to overreact even more.
Her hands flung even higher, her nostrils flared, her eyes widened.

“Overreacting? I’ve worked for years on this play and I don’t want to blow it because some half bit actress was given a starring role without my permission.”

“Who are you calling a half bit actress?” I would have totally called myself one, but no way was I letting
her
say it.

She apparently didn’t hear me.
“There are
no
other plays
out there
like
this
!” she insisted.

“You’re right. It’s like a mix of
Phantom
,
Les Mis
, and
The Sound of Music
. Nothing like any other plays at all.” I didn’t try to keep my sarcasm at bay. Arie was out of control, and I couldn’t take it anymore.

“It’s
nothing
like those plays,” she screeched. “This is a one of a kind
original
.”

The woman really thought this was going to launch her career. She also really thought she was the next great Rodger or Hammerstein
, for that matter, or both of them rolled into one too-good-to-be-true package. I had no aspirations of being an actor, and even I wouldn’t want this tragedy to go onto my resume.

She stepped closer. “If you ruin this for me, so help me …”

Arie had no idea who she was dealing with. I’d dealt with people a lot scarier than her. I threw my shoulders back and raised my chin.

“So help me you’ll what?” I challenged.

Her nostrils flared. “I can make your life miserable.”

I held up the script
and dropped my head to the side. “You already have.”

She gasped.
“You’re an awful person Gabby Whatever-Your-Last-Name-Is!”

She turned on her heel and stormed away.

When I turned around, I realized the rest of the cast had formed a semi-circle around me and appeared to be a rapt audience. And, for the second time today, they applauded for me.

“Someone needed to say it,”
Bennie muttered.

“Everyone else was afraid of her,”
one of The Shining twins said.

“You really
think this play is horrible?” Paulette asked.

I realized what I’d said in my haste
and prayed that Paulette wouldn’t be crushed. How was I going to make this better? My words too often got the best of me.

“We’re going to
make the most of what we have to work with,” Mrs. Baker said, always the voice of reason. “We’re going to put our best foot forward and make this show a success.”

That seemed to cheer Paulette up some. She nodded and
attempted to pull herself together. “We don’t have any time to waste. We need to get to work. Opening night is only ten days away.”

I nodded. I really hoped nothing else happened between now and the opening, though.