Lights Out Tonight (29 page)

Read Lights Out Tonight Online

Authors: Mary Jane Clark

“The last time I saw her was at the cast party at Curtains Up on opening night.” Langley shook her blond head with disbelief. “My, that was less than forty-eight hours ago. It seems like an eternity. Anyway, she seemed up and happy, for the most part.”

“What do you mean ‘for the most part’?” asked Caroline.

“At one point, I did see Belinda get pretty angry at her caretaker.”

“Gus Oberon?” asked Caroline.

“Um-hmm.”

“Do you know why?”

“I think it was because he was coming on to me.”

“Why would Belinda be angry about that?”

Langley shrugged. “Maybe she was a little jealous. Maybe Belinda wanted Gus to only pay attention to her.”

“Belinda didn’t seem to be running short on attention that night, Langley.”

Langley shrugged again. “You never know. Some people are never satisfied. They always want more.”

Caroline was surprised by how unself-conscious Langley was as she not-so-indirectly maligned Belinda. Wanting to wrap up the interview, she got back to the subject of Belinda’s disappearance.

“Do you have any thoughts on what could have happened to Belinda?” she asked.

“Not a one,” said Langley, her face serious.

“Okay then, a final question, Langley. What do you envision this unexpected turn of events will do for your own career?”

“Of course, it isn’t going to hurt it,” said Langley.” It wouldn’t be honest to say otherwise. But as I said at the beginning of the interview, I didn’t want to get the role this way.” Langley stood up. “Now, if we’re through, I have some things I have to take care of before tonight’s performance.”

As she and the crew left to get to the satellite truck, Caroline considered leaving Meg’s tote bag so it would be waiting for her when she arrived at the dressing room. But she thought better of it. Meg had entrusted the bag to her, and she would hand it back to Meg herself.

“What did you think of the interview?” asked Caroline as they got in the car.

“I’d hate to have that one breathing down
my
neck,” said Boomer. “Langley Tate has ambition written all over her.”

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Meg joined in with the other apprentices as they toasted Amy and Tommy. She nursed a single beer, conscious of the time and of her responsibilities. She should be clearheaded when she assisted Langley in the dressing room tonight.

As she came out of the dim bar, Meg’s eyes adjusted to the brightness of the late-afternoon summer sun. There was still plenty of time before she had to report to the theater. Meg considered going back to the dorm and taking a nap. The anxiety about speaking at the memorial service had left her drained, and just that one beer had made her feel sleepy. But knowing someone had been in her room to steal from her made Meg feel uncomfortable about going back there right now. Plus, her room key was in the tote bag she had forgotten to take from Caroline.

The greenroom,
thought Meg as she began to walk toward the theater. She could take a nap on the cot in the greenroom.

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The satellite truck had set up in the sprawling parking lot of an enterprising gas station owner. The KEY News team arrived to find that trucks devoted to
Entertainment Tonight,
ABC, NBC, and CBS were parked there as well. Caroline recognized several on-air talents standing outside their respective rigs, some of them talking on cell phones, others checking their BlackBerries and pacing as they practiced their lines for live transmission at airtime.

“Having the field to ourselves couldn’t last forever,” said Annabelle.

Inside the truck, Lamar fed almost a half hour of raw video to the KEY News Broadcast Center in New York City while Caroline sent her script to the Fishbowl for approval via computer. She felt relief and satisfaction that the senior producers sitting in the glass-walled
Evening Headlines
nerve center suggested only minor tweaking.

“All set, Caroline?” Boomer held out a lip mike.

Caroline nodded and cleared her throat. “Belinda Winthrop, Remington Peters track for
Evening Headlines
in three, two, one.”

Even as she heard herself say the words, Caroline couldn’t quite believe she was reporting for the network’s flagship broadcast. She, who had no experience in hard news, would be telling millions of people what was going on up here.

“The Berkshires are known for two things: nature and culture. People who live here year-round, or come to vacation, value beauty and serenity. But in Warrenstown, Massachusetts, home of the legendary Warrenstown Summer Playhouse, loveliness and tranquillity have been shattered this summer. Two young theater apprentices were killed in a car accident last weekend, a town librarian was found murdered Thursday morning, and the Academy, Emmy, and Tony award winner Belinda Winthrop has been missing for two days.

“Insert sound bite of woman in theater lobby:
‘I can’t even let myself think about something happening to Belinda Winthrop. She’s been bringing me, and so many other people, happiness for years. She’s an extraordinary talent.’”

Caroline paused to give further editing instructions. “Okay, this is the place to bring up some sound from the video we just fed in of Belinda onstage opening night.”

After clearing her throat again, she continued her narration.
“Winthrop has been coming to Warrenstown every summer for the last twenty years. This season, she was starring in the premiere of
Devil in the Details,
a new play that is expected to be headed for literary awards and Hollywood glory.

“Insert sound bite from interview done with Belinda Winthrop on opening night:
‘Imagine being associated with someone who has no conscience. Victoria Sterling has given us a staggering view of the true terror it must be to be joined to a sociopath. I count myself fortunate to be able to interpret this rich and fabulous material.’

“Back to track:
But after an opening-night performance which was hailed as a triumph, Belinda Winthrop disappeared following a cast party at her home. Today, police and volunteers combed her one-hundred-fifty-acre country estate. One of the actress’s shoes was found in the woods. Police also found eighty pounds of marijuana stored in the cellar of a carriage house on Winthrop’s property. The carriage house is the home and studio of acclaimed Berkshire landscape artist and Winthrop portraitist, Remington Peters. He was taken into custody and then released on bail.

“Edit in my question and his answer,” Caroline instructed into the microphone. “I ask:
‘Do you have any speculation about how the marijuana got there?’
He answers:
‘I don’t know for sure, but I’ve seen things at night, things falling from the sky. Maybe that has something to do with it.’

“More track:
The artist is known for being reclusive and somewhat eccentric. He came to live on the Winthrop estate after a fire destroyed his previous studio, incinerating all of his portraits of Belinda Winthrop in seventeen successive roles on the Warrenstown Summer Playhouse stage. Peters’s latest portrait, of Winthrop as Valerie in
Devil in the Details,
was scheduled to be unveiled this week, but at the last minute, Peters refused to show the work, claiming it wasn’t ready. KEY News has obtained exclusive video of the current portrait.

“Okay,” said Caroline. “Cover that last sentence with the
video taken with the camcorder of the painting on the easel in Remington’s studio, and let it run over the next sentences as well.

“These alarming images show a character in direct opposition to the role Belinda Winthrop is playing onstage. Valerie is a fear-tortured character as she comes to realize her husband is a sociopath. In Peters’s portrait, Valerie looks like the one who is doing the torturing. Remington Peters has never made any secret of the fact that he fell in love with Belinda Winthrop twenty years ago, when they were working together at the Summer Playhouse. The actress rejected him.

“Now put in the Remington sound bite; pick it up at: ‘
An artist’s feelings for his subject influence his work.’

“And finally, edit in the stand-up close shot in front of Winthrop’s farmhouse with the carriage house in the background.

“Still, a disturbing painting and some marijuana do not prove anything. It will be up to the police to unravel this case as the search for Belinda Winthrop continues. Caroline Enright, KEY News, Warrenstown.”

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Chip Mueller always had his breakfast at other people’s dinnertime. His job as the night watchman at the storage facility meant that he slept most of the day. When he got out of bed, Chip showered, dressed in his dark blue uniform, then headed to the kitchen to fry up some eggs and sausage. He sat at the kitchen table by himself and watched the
KEY Evening Headlines
as he ate.

This evening Chip watched intently as the reporter told the story of the artist fella in Warrenstown who had the pot stored in his cellar and lived on Belinda Winthrop’s property. The story said the man was famous for painting pictures of Belinda Winthrop but most of his work had been destroyed in a fire a few years back.

Chip was pretty certain that the man shown on the television screen was the same guy who had made two trips to the storage facility last night. And those large, flat packages he’d been unloading sure could have been paintings. If they were, why was he putting so many in storage in the middle of the night?

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Knowing that Meg would eventually have to come back to the theater, it made sense to check the dressing room first. It was empty.

Considering what to do next, the killer walked down the hallway, glancing into the rest area. The killer silently approached a figure lying on the cot in the greenroom.

There was Meg, sound asleep.

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Meg’s eyes sprang open as she felt the hand clamp down on her mouth. It took her a second to orient herself. She didn’t understand what was going on.

But it quickly dawned on her as she looked into piercing
eyes and felt hot breath on her face. Meg struggled to push her attacker away.

“Don’t even try to resist. Do as I say and you won’t get hurt, Meg.”

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After the KEY News people received a good-night from the Broadcast Center, Caroline called Meg but got only her outgoing voice-mail message.

“Meg, it’s me. Caroline. I’m sorry I couldn’t connect with you after the memorial service to tell you what a good job you did. You were so moving, Meg. I was so proud of you, and I know your dad would have been, too. Let’s talk. I still have your tote bag and want to get it back to you. Call me.”

Caroline hoped Meg wasn’t hurt or annoyed by the lapse. But as she thought more about it, she decided that Meg would just have to understand. While Caroline would hate to think her improving relationship with Meg might be jeopardized, she couldn’t allow herself to be intimidated, either. She had a job to do, and she shouldn’t have to make apologies for it.

She put away her cell phone and returned to Annabelle,
Lamar, and Boomer, who were deep in conversation outside the satellite truck.

“We’ve got to return the tape of the play to the audiovisual department. After that, we’re going to dinner,” said Annabelle. “Want to come with us?”

“All right, great,” answered Caroline, knowing that Meg would be occupied with her dressing duties for Langley Tate for the next few hours. “Where are we going?”

In the theater’s subbasement there were many storage areas. Meg found herself in one of them. She was tied up and shaking.

“Tell me where it is,” demanded her captor. “Tell me where that script is.”

Meg knew exactly where the script was, but if she gave up the information, she would be putting Caroline in danger. She looked into the cold, determined eyes boring into hers. The pupils were dilated, the corneas glassy.

“Don’t think I’m fooling around, Meg, because I’m not.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Meg’s voice quivered.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I know you have it. I can tell from your journal.”

“How did you read my journal?” As Meg finished asking the question, it dawned on her. “You stole my computer.” The enormity of the realization overwhelmed her. She was face-to-face with the thief who had sneaked into the dorm and come
into her room, invading her privacy. Knowing the thief was not just some kid who shared the dorm with her but an adult with an agenda—prepared to abduct Meg just to get a script—was both confusing and terrifying.

“Smart girl, Meg. I guess they don’t call you Brightlights for nothing. So be intelligent, and tell me where the script is.”

Meg’s mind raced, suspecting the script was the thing that was going to keep her alive. If that was turned over, she’d have no leverage.

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