Manning’s been pleasant and anxious to help. He has an honorable job. He has a daughter. So why don’t I trust him?
“Know much about Shakespeare?” Cait asked as they walked.
Manning smiled. “O Romeo, Romeo, where art thou Romeo?”
Cait smiled and shook her head but didn’t comment on his misquote. “Everyone knows that.”
He looked heavenward, as if picking words from the sky. “O my love, my wife, Death that hath sucked the honey of thy breath.”
Surprised, she kept her eyes on him and the cell he still held. Okay, so he knows a little Shakespeare. Most people do.
Rook scowled. “Are you two going to stand all day quoting Shakespeare?” He held the door to the theater open.
Cait, Rook, and the Harts went inside, but Manning hesitated and turned back to the courtyard. “You coming?” she asked.
“I’ll catch up,” he said.
June asked, “What’s he up to?”
“I wish I knew, but he might be expecting another call from Wally.” She followed him.
Manning turned. “I assume those two guys running out of the theater with guns were cops. Any more of them around?”
“Not that I know of,” Cait said. “Why?”
“I don’t like surprises.”
“That makes two of us. Are you coming inside?”
With a last glance at the courtyard, he said, “Lead the way.”
Rook stood inside by the stairs. “I’m going to have a look in the loft.” He took the stairs to the stage two at a time and ducked behind the curtain.
“Waste of time to look for Wally in here,” Manning said.
“Why? He’s been in here before. He stole a medieval weapon and was stupid enough to leave evidence behind.”
A dark look crossed Manning’s face. “Maybe it was his cousin, LeBow.”
June rolled her eyes. “See you around.”
“Manning and I will be in the back.” Cait started up the stairs.
Manning stepped into the green room behind Cait. “I always wanted to know what it looked like behind the curtains.” He strolled around the room, pausing to scan handwritten notes on white boards and flipping through sheets clipped to a large ring hung on the wall.
Cait wanted to remind him they were there to look for Wally but swallowed her words.
He stuck his head around a doorway. “What’s this room?”
“Wig and makeup.” She flipped on the lights. The makeup tables had been cleared and cleaned; their mirrors sparkled beneath the overhead lights. A couple of Styrofoam heads had been left out on one of the tables.
Manning picked one up. “Where are the wigs?”
“Stored so they won’t get dusty when they’re not in use. Sometimes the actors bring their own.”
He turned to Cait. “Why store them now? Doesn’t the festival run all summer?”
“It runs the first weekend of each month, May through September.”
He flashed her a smile. “That leaves you a lot of spare time. What do you do during the off weeks?” He set the Styrofoam head back on the table.
Look for bad guys. “I wasn’t born to this. I have to learn how to run the festival and how to maintain the vineyard.”
“All by yourself?”
“I have someone to manage the vineyard.”
“Does Mr. Tanner stay with you?”
Her guard shot up. “Why would you think that?”
“I couldn’t miss seeing the Hummer and trailer in the parking lot. They don’t appear to belong to anyone else.”
She wanted to deny they belonged to RT because it was none of his business, but decided it would be better if Manning thought RT might show any time. “They belong to RT.”
“He’s a cop?”
“No, just a good friend.” She opened the closets. Bins filled with bags of cotton balls, boxes of tissues, packaged cosmetics, and hair accessories were stacked against one wall. A half dozen Styrofoam heads were lined up on a shelf. Cait closed the doors. “Let’s move on.”
The closets in the costume room were filled with large white cloth bags hanging from a long metal rod that extended from one end of each closet to the other. The bags held everything from Victorian dresses to warrior costumes. One included some of Tasha’s gowns Cait had donated when she cleaned out the wardrobes in the master bedroom. All of the bags were zipped up and hung a foot off the floor. Cait didn’t think it possible anyone could hide inside them, but gave each a firm shake. Satisfied Wally wasn’t hanging out in the closet, she closed the doors, then turned and bumped into Manning, who was practically breathing down her neck.
He grabbed her arms to steady her. “Sorry.”
She stepped back, perturbed at the amusement in his eyes. “Closets are clear.”
“I still don’t understand why you don’t keep the wigs on the heads. Wouldn’t it be easier than going up and down the stairs all the time?”
Why the interest in wigs? “Because that’s how Tasha did it. They’re also cleaned and dressed in the loft.”
She walked out in time to see Detective Rook brushing at smudges of dirt on his slacks and then wiping his hands on a handkerchief.
“It’s a waste of time looking for Wally here,” Manning told Rook.
“We won’t know unless we look, will we?” Rook said. “Do you have something better to do?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” He glanced at Cait. “Will you have dinner with me tonight?”
Cait fumbled for an excuse not to go out with Manning. “Sorry. I’m busy.”
Manning smiled. “Another time.” He turned and walked out.
“That was odd,” June said.
Jim shook his head. “I wonder what he’s up to.”
Cait turned to Rook. “You should have someone follow him. He must know where Wally is staying.”
Cait recognized Perough and Vanicheque as they returned to the theater after searching the vineyard for the man Fumié saw hiding.
“No luck,” Perough said. “But we found this.” He pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to Rook.
Rook stared at the paper and sighed. A grim look crossed his face.
“Think he might be staying there?” Perough asked.
“Worth checking,” Rook said.
“Where?” Marcus asked.
Rook hesitated. “Pagan Alley.”
“In Livermore? Never heard of it,” Marcus said. “Sounds like vampire territory.”
“Close enough,” Rook said. “It’s the back end of an abandoned lot.”
“I know of it,” Fumié said.
Rook looked up. “It’s not the type of place you would be familiar with.”
Fumié smiled. “I don’t know if anyone lives there. It’s a converted garage. I think it’s a place where people go to hook up, you know, for drugs and stuff. It’s weird.”
She caught Rook’s attention. “Care to share how you know about this infamous alley?”
Fumié shot a glance at Cait. “It’s no secret I want to be a park ranger. Because I know how to shoot and have a black belt, my friends wanted to see if I was too scared to go to the Alley. So I did . . . on a dare.”
How far would this girl go to prove she could take care of herself? “Where did you find the paper?” Cait asked the officers.
“Down the hill in some bushes,” Perough said.
“Then it wasn’t Manning’s,” Cait said with a sigh of relief. “He was with me.”
Rook pulled a small pad from a back pocket of his trousers and wrote a note. “It’s a lead. I’ll look into it.” He glanced up at Fumié. “When did you go to Pagan Alley? Was it at night?”
“I was in high school,” she said. “It was five years ago, and yes, it was at night.”
Rook slipped his notepad away. “It’s gotten worse since then. I think we’re done here.” He looked at the officers. “Better check the Blackfriars, see if anything’s been disturbed. I’ll see you back to the house.”
“I’ll open it for them,” Marcus said.
Rook nodded. “Thanks.”
Marcus and Rook had a contentious history; it pleased Cait when Rook acknowledged Marcus. “And thanks for offering to build a gift shop. I can’t wait to have it out of the house.”
Marcus nodded and pulled his ring of keys from his pocket.
“Manning might still be here,” Cait said. “I haven’t heard the motorcycle, unless he walked it down the driveway.”
“If he’s here,” Rook said, “I’ll ask him about Pagan Alley.”
“He did say he has friends in the Bay Area,” Cait reminded him. “If this place has the reputation you’re suggesting and if Wally is staying there, Manning had to know about it.”
“I agree. The Alley’s an open secret. We keep an eye on it.”
“There isn’t a town on earth,” Jim said, “that doesn’t have at least one seedy place. It’s like a magnet for the lowlife.”
“Even in the art world,” June said. She took hold of Jim’s hand. “Right?”
Jim smiled and nodded. “Recovering stolen art isn’t as intriguing as people think. Sometimes the search takes you to the deepest, darkest, most secretive holes on earth.”
“That’s why I’m happy you’re retired and we’re here,” June said.
“Let’s see if Manning’s still around,” Rook said.
Cait was glad to leave. Empty theaters were cold and sad without the actors, the excitement of rehearsals, and complaints about rips in costumes. Outside, the warmth of the sun and the trill of meadowlarks cheered her. This could be paradise if danger wasn’t lurking behind every tree or shrub.