Cait held the curtain back for the officers, then crossed the green room and went into the costume room where empty metal racks on wheels were pushed up against a wall. During the festival, they were filled with medieval costumes. She flung the closet doors open. Styrofoam heads lined a shelf above rods filled with zippered clothes bags. The bags were squished together, as they had been when Cait showed Manning the theater. Nothing appeared disturbed, but she had no idea how many costumes were in the bags. She closed the doors. “I’ve no idea if anything’s missing in here. I’m going up to have a look in the loft.”
“What’s up there?” Vanicheque asked.
“Wigs and more clothes bags of costumes, but nothing as valuable as jewels. If Wally thinks he can disguise himself by wearing a wig, he’s mistaken. These actors recognize each other, and none of them are black.” She crossed to the stairs.
Ilia laughed. “I think he’s dumb enough to try anything.”
Cait started up the open stairway. “Ilia, was everything okay with RT’s vehicles? It could be a serious problem if Wally broke into either of them.”
“Crap. I got distracted when I saw that guy running. I better check,” he said as he left.
“Hold on, Cait.” Vanicheque said. “I’ll go first.”
She smiled. “This is my theater, but feel free to follow.” She didn’t like the hot, cramped loft but wouldn’t let on to the officers. She felt for the wall switch when she reached the top and flipped it on. The dim light barely reached the far corners beneath the sloping roof, and the one window only allowed a little light in.
The officers ducked as they stepped into the loft. “Kind of dark up here,” Perough said.
Cait sneezed. “Not much air either. I don’t know how Jay, the stage manager’s brother, works up here mending the costumes and handling the wigs.” She pointed to matching wooden steamer trunks with retro-style hinges beneath the window. “Some of the wigs are in there, but I don’t know how many. They’re kept between layers of tissue. If you’ll check, I’ll look at the clothes bags.” She turned and bumped into a wire dress form, gasped, and nearly screamed.
Perough grabbed the form to keep it from falling.
“Are the trunks supposed to be locked?” Vanicheque asked as he lifted a lid.
“There aren’t any keys that I know of.” She ducked to avoid a low rafter. Three clothes bags hung on metal rods. One held Tasha’s costumes that Cait had discovered when she moved into the house; there had been some in the guest bedroom and some in Tasha’s wardrobe in the master bedroom. Donating them to the festival felt less disrespectful when she wanted them out of the way to make room for her own clothes. She unzipped one of the bags and shook the bunched-up costumes.
“Take a look at this,” Perough said.
“What is it?”
He pointed to a stick of blue and white paper in one of the trunks. “Gum.” He pulled a tissue from his pocket and picked it up. “Dentyne Ice.”
“It looks like the wrapper from Ray Stoltz’s truck. We have to assume a wig is missing.”
“Yeah, but have you ever come up against a burglar as careless as Wally?”
Never, but I will as soon as he’s caught.
Cait felt relieved to breathe fresh air after they left the theater. “Do you want to call Rook about the break-in and the gum, or should I?”
Perough looked at his watch. “He’s probably at Pagan Alley with SWAT. We’ll let him know when he calls.”
“Fine. I’ll go to the house.”
“I’ll go with you,” Vanicheque said. “Is there a play this weekend?”
“Only Macbeth on Saturday at the Blackfriars. There are only four or five actors in the play, and the theater seats a hundred and forty-two.” Her eyes flicked on the bushes as they walked. “I’m disappointed Wally hasn’t been captured. The actors won’t be safe until he is.” She turned to him. “Look, I’m capable of going from here to the house. Why don’t you join your partner and look for Wally?”
“I’m sure you are, but no,” Vanicheque said firmly.
Marcus opened the door as if he’d been waiting for her. “Sam Cruz called.” Niki tried to follow Vanicheque, but Marcus caught his collar.
“Perfect,” she said. “Actors’ Equity, that’s all I need. Surprised he waited this long to call.”
Marcus handed her a paper. “That’s his number.”
“Any word from Ray Stoltz?”
“Yeah. He’ll be here sometime today, and the actors will arrive tomorrow.” He frowned. “Did someone really break in the Elizabethan theater?”
“Yep, went over the wall. For all we know, he might have stolen a wig from the loft.”
Marcus groaned. “Sure be easier to break into the Blackfriars.”
“You’d think so, but I don’t think any wigs are kept there.”
“Maybe Wally knows you have a play this weekend and thinks he’d be safe hiding among the crowd.”
“I’m not sure he’s smart enough to think that far. I have to let Ray know about the wig so he can tell the actors and they can be on the lookout. I hope they kept the mug shot of Wally.” She set her gun on the counter and reached in her pocket for her cell. “Can’t put off calling Sam Cruz any longer.”
“Ms. Pepper?” Cruz answered.
“Yes. I’m returning your call.”
“Have the police caught the guy who murdered Chip Fallon? Tasha would have closed the festival until it was safe for the actors. Will there be enough police to protect them?”
Cait bit her lip to stop the torrent of words she wanted to scream at him. She glanced at Marcus and rolled her eyes. “The police are here every day looking for Wally Dillon, the suspected killer, and will be here during the festival. I’m sure Tasha would do exactly what I’m doing—taking care of business and providing security for everyone.”
An ominous silence hung across the line.
“I’m sorry if I offended you, but put yourself in my place,” he said.
“I appreciate your position, Mr. Cruz. I’m confident Wally will be apprehended soon.”
“Let’s hope so. Security will remain tight?”
“Of course. It always is.”
“You’ll let me know when he’s caught?”
“Absolutely.”
He hung up.
She turned her cell off. Frustrated, she said, “Let’s have a beer.”
They sat at the counter with beer and chips while Cait brooded about the lack of light in the loft. When someone knocked on the door, Marcus got up to open it.
Niki also ran to the door and barked as his tail flapped against the tile floor.
Cait drank deeply from her bottle of chilled beer.
“The police are becoming permanent fixtures around here,” Ray Stoltz blustered when he walked in. “At this rate, you won’t have a festival to worry about, only the vineyard.”
Cait flinched. Beer sloshed in her bottle.
“Do you always enter a room like a cyclone?”
“Ha. Got your attention, didn’t I? Like the police got mine. I could have been shot.”
“But you weren’t. I just talked with Sam Cruz. Did you call him to complain?”
Ray rubbed his chin. “Hell, no. I wouldn’t do that to you. I complain a lot, but only to you because I think you like it.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pants pocket and blew his nose. “When the cops stopped me, they said there was a break-in at the Elizabethan. I showed my ID and assured them I didn’t hate you enough to kill you, but sometimes you do push my buttons.”
“They wouldn’t mistake you for Wally. He’s black and about half your size.” Cait liked Ray, even his crankiness. He sounded and acted gruff, but he knew the stage business and was respected by the actors. But when he pushed her too far, she pushed back. “So Ray, how many wigs are kept in those trunks in the loft? If we knew, we would know if one was missing.”
Ray reached into the bag of potato chips and grabbed a handful. “Hell, I don’t know. It’s not like I need to keep track of them like the weapons.” He ate the chips he’d taken and reached for more.
His cavalier attitude toward the wigs surprised Cait. “I hoped you could tell me so I could tell the police. Marcus, do you keep a list of everything that belongs to the festival?”
Marcus shook his head. “But it’s a good idea. I’ll do an inventory after this year’s festival is over.”
“I’d appreciate that. And, Ray, I’d like a list of anything you store here between festivals. I feel really stupid not knowing what belongs to who.” She hated to spoil Ray’s day, but she had to ask. “Remember that gum wrapper the police found in your truck when it was broken into?”
“Yeah. I had to buy a new hammer to replace the stolen one.” He cocked his eyebrow. “Why?”
“A stick of the same gum was found among the wigs in one of the trunks.”
Ray stared at her, his hand holding a chip frozen in midair. Then he slammed his hand on the counter, and the chip flew across the granite surface. “The police didn’t tell me that. If it’s the same SOB, he’s going to buy me a new hammer.”
“Calm down, Ray. You’ll have a heart attack. Have another chip. The officers took the gum with them and will have the wrapper fingerprinted. It’s pointless, really, because we know who it was.”
“Wally Dillon?”
“Or his partner.”
Someone tapped on the glass in the door. Ray opened the door for the Harts.
“Ray, you big oaf, what are you doing here?” June asked.
“It’s Thursday. Haven’t forgotten about Macbeth this weekend, have you?”
“No,” she said, “but I thought you had. I expected you sooner. Are you harassing Cait again?”
“No, it’s the other way around,” he said, a glint in his eye when he looked at Cait. “I have to get to the theaters. Need a modem, Cait.”
Cait slid off her stool. “Jim, do you have your gun?”
He nodded. “Want me to shoot Ray if he doesn’t behave?”
She smiled. “Not yet. Will you go with him and open the theater? And if you see the officers, ask if one will stay with him. I wouldn’t want to be sued if someone shot him.”
“I don’t need protecting.” Ray pulled his plaid work shirt up to show off a gun that was tucked at his waist.
Everyone’s carrying heat. “You got a permit to carry? Do the officers know you’re armed?”
“They didn’t ask, and I didn’t tell.”
“Is it loaded?”
He smiled.
“Don’t you know it’s illegal to carry a concealed weapon in California?”
Niki growled at the door.
“Damn traffic jam in here,” Ray said as he opened the door.
Officer Vanicheque walked in. “Detective Rook wanted you to know Pagan Alley was a bust.”
“They’d cleared out?” Cait asked.
“Coffee was still warm, so he’d just left.” He glanced at Ray. “He wants in the Blackfriars. Want me to escort him?”
Cait smiled at Ray. “Sure. Jim can open the theater.”
Vanicheque nodded to Ray. “Ready? Don’t go Rambo on me if we run into trouble.”
Cait assumed Vanicheque noticed the bulge under Ray’s shirt. “Ray, is there anything you’d like to tell the officer?”
Ray’s mouth opened, then closed, and he shook his head.
After the officer left with Ray and Jim, June asked, “Did I miss something?”
“Ray should let the officers know he’s carrying, but I didn’t want to push it.”
“He’ll do what’s right, but only when he’s ready. Have you heard from Fumié?”
Cait shook her head. “She doesn’t have regular hours. Why?”
“Ilia asked about her. I think he was expecting to meet her.”
“Marcus, have you talked with Fumié today?”
“No. She’s probably at home. She said she wanted to call the ranger school to confirm her place in the fall class.”
“We talked about that,” Cait said. It’s not like Fumié to say she’d do something and then not do it.