Baxter and I discussed watching the audience to try to spot someone blowing a dog whistle. He told me that he’d followed the pair of young stagehands to see if there were any clues that indicated someone had recently tampered with the light fixture—patterns in the dust or nuts that might bear fingerprints. There weren’t—it was surprisingly low on dust—but he did discover that there was a safe corner for him to sit that gave him a full view of the auditorium seats. He would be in the shadows and the audience wouldn’t realize they were being watched. Due to my acrophobia, I asked him not to even let me know when he was going to be climbing up there.
I was starting to get really nervous for Pavlov’s sake as we drew closer to the 7:30 curtain time. Pavlov is a very smart dog, and I’d taken her to perform in agility contests as a three-year old. I also frequently had her perform for me at presentations at pet stores and so forth, plus the occasional birthday party for friends’ children. A stage performance of a full-length play was way out of her wheelhouse, however.
To give myself something to do besides fretting, I popped into the dressing room. A wave of aromas hit me as I opened the door, and it occurred to me that maybe Flint was being overwhelmed by scents during the live performances. They surely would not have worn their stage makeup for rehearsals. Maybe the smell of greasepaint had so greatly overtaken his senses that he’d been unable to focus on his commands.
At the opposite side of the room, Sally was chatting with Felicity. Sally appeared to be already in makeup and costume, ready to step onto the stage. Karen was seated at one of the mirrored vanity tables applying her makeup. I did a double take at the vase of wildflowers beside her. “Hi, Allie,” she said, catching sight of my reflection in her mirror. She turned to face me with a big smile on her face.
“Hi, Karen. I was wondering...during your dress rehearsals, were you in full makeup?”
“Yes, we wore our makeup for both of them,” she said. “I was thinking that it could have explained Flint’s troubles if he’d had allergic reactions to our makeup. But we used all the same products in our hair and makeup.”
Her flowers caught my eye. “Is this bouquet yours?”
“Yes, it is. That was given to me by a secret admirer at Wednesday night’s performance. Isn’t it lovely? I love that they’re wildflowers, instead of the old standby...roses.”
“Yes, they’re lovely. But I just want to warn you to be extra careful not to place them anywhere the dogs can get to. Monkshood is poisonous.”
“Really? I’ve kept this bouquet here for the last few days. I’m certain that Flint can’t get into them here, but I suppose Pippa could hop onto the table. But...I really thought those purple flowers were Larkspur, not Monkshood.”
“They’re Monkshood. Since I work with pets with less-than-perfect behavior, I need to be able to recognize flora that could make dogs sick. Monkshood contains aconite, which is highly poisonous, either by ingesting it or getting it ground into an open wound on a paw. If Pippa were to jump up on the counter and drink from your vase, it could make her really sick.”
“What a terrible thought,” Karen said. “If Pippa were to get poisoned due to my carelessness, I’d never forgive myself.” She grabbed her vase. “I’m going to move this to a higher surface.”
Sally and Felicity glanced in our direction. “Why are you moving your wildflowers?” Felicity asked.
“Allie just warned me they’re poisonous. I don’t want to take any chance of one of the dogs lapping up the water in the vase.”
“It’s the Monkshood,” I explained.
“Thanks, Allie,” Felicity said. “I had no idea those flowers were poisonous. That’s such a scary thought that my Pippa could have gotten deathly ill from them.”
“No problem. To be honest, I’m not a hundred percent sure that aconite could leach into the water. I just wouldn’t want to risk it.”
“Speaking of risks,” Felicity said to Karen, “How do you feel about appearing in tonight’s show?”
“In the wake of the light falling on stage, you mean?”
“Of course. Are you in Hammie’s camp? Wanting to back out of the show?” Her voice was slightly snide to my ear, and Karen immediately answered, “No. But then, I don’t have a heart condition. I think Hammie is feeling a little snake-bit lately. In any case, I can’t really blame him for wanting to be careful with his heart condition.”
Curious about his being “snake bit,” I asked, “Has he been injured on stage or something? Snapped at by Flint?”
“No,” Karen replied, “but things certainly haven’t been going his way.”
“She means that he took the role under false expectations,” Sally said. “He wanted to rekindle our relationship. Which, I have to admit, has happened before. We’ve broken up and gotten back together twice already, thanks to our romantic roles on stage.” She got a wistful smile on her face. “This time, though, I fell for a young, dashing playwright instead.”
Personally, I didn’t consider John Morris “dashing,” whatsoever. He wasn’t even all that young, but rather in his late-thirties or early forties. Nevertheless, I smiled at her. Heaven knows we are all better off loving rather than hating.
“I think John believes his play is being sabotaged,” Sally continued. “He seems obsessed now with who put the chocolate in the container of kibble.”
“Maybe it was one of the interns,” Felicity said, “who dropped it on the floor and figured they’d give it to the dog for a treat. Not everyone knows how badly dogs react to chocolate.”
“I wish I’d minded my own business and hadn’t tried to feed Pavlov,” Karen said.
“Oh, it’s all right,” Felicity said. “Allie noticed in plenty of time to save the day.” She gave me a small smile and headed for the door. “Time for me to get back to work. ‘A stitch in time’ and all that.”
Karen rose and also left the dressing room, calling out that she was heading to the green room to get her lemon water before curtain time.
Alone together, Sally took a seat at the vanity counter and met my gaze. “This must seem like quite the rag-tag operation we’ve got here. Dark chocolate in the doggie bowl, falling lights, poisonous bouquets. We’re a regular dog-and-pony show, minus the pony.”
I chuckled. “As long as you avoid being stricken by locusts and/or the plague, I’m happy. I’m a huge fan of live theater. My mom and I have season tickets to the Denver Center of Performing Arts. This is pretty much my first time seeing a production behind the scenes, though.”
“Ah. Well, frankly, this is pretty much the way life in the theater always goes.”
“Really? Are you being facetious?”
She flashed me a truly winning smile. I could certainly see why she was so appealing to men. “Oh, half and half, I suppose. The more time I spend in this business, the more jaded I become. It’s systemic in the very nature of this profession. We endure such intense competition for jobs every time we try to do what we believe we were born to do. Over time, it gets easier and easier to lose sight of your moral compass.”
I studied her pretty features. With her black hair and light blue eyes, she was truly striking, yet get off a “girl-next-door” vibe. “So...you don’t necessarily trust Felicity’s or Karen’s stories about mistaking chocolate for kibble?”
“To be honest with you, Allie, you probably shouldn’t put anybody past doing something underhanded to get closer to whatever spotlight they’re seeking.”
“You’re dating the writer/director of the play. Doesn’t that make you something of a target?”
She gave me a sad smile. “Bingo.”
I waited for her to continue, but she held her tongue.
“Are you suggesting someone has already double-crossed you?”
“That’s the feeling I’ve had ever since I got the part.” She searched my features. “Didn’t John describe Flint’s first scene on opening night?”
“Not specifically. He sent me some recorded outtakes, but the recordings didn’t start until the second act.”
“That surprises me. The opening scene was quite striking, actually. Flint started barking every time I opened my mouth. I couldn’t get a single line spoken without having to shout over his barks.”
“That must have been awful.”
“Awfully annoying, for sure.” She grimaced. “I suspect this whole mess with Flint’s performance was intended as a way to ruin my performance, not the entire production.”
“And if that’s the case, Felicity had a second reason to throw a monkey wrench into the works. She might be jealous of your relationship with her ex, plus want to see her Pug in a permanent starring position.”
Sally fidgeted with the tissue in her hand. “Right. And yet, when I hear you say those words aloud, they sound so petty. I could easily be mistaken about Felicity. She’s been truly sweet to me. It isn’t her fault that I’ve become so jaded. If I force myself to be honest, at one time or another, I’ve suspected all three cast members of having deliberately messed with Flint’s behavior on stage in order to upstage me. For all know, they feel exactly the same way about me.”
I gave her a sympathetic nod to show I was listening. But her words were causing my stomach to clench. This theater company was chockfull of raw feelings and prickly relationships, any one of which could potentially wreak havoc on Flint’s performance.
“I keep thinking Hammie has been tampering with Flint’s performance. I know for certain that he’s seething with jealousy over my choosing John over him. I also know Greg had left the theater world many years ago and is trying to make a comeback. He accused me of upstaging him just this afternoon in our matinee. On the other hand, Karen’s so nice, it rubs against my jadedness. And yet she was originally supposed to be cast in my role, which is the showier and bigger part. But, again, maybe I’ve just got a raging ego and have invented all of this unseen Sturm und Drang so that it’s all about me.
She paused and stared into her own eyes in the mirror as if trying to discover a hidden truth there. “Still, I adore Flint. We’ve had a wonderful relationship on and off the stage, since the moment we met. And it all fell apart on opening night. Why would a dog decide on his own suddenly to bark at my every line?”
Maybe it was Flint’s reaction to a particularly piercing whistle that only he could hear. She’d spoken as if it was a rhetorical question, however, so I kept that thought to myself.
She glanced over at Karen’s flowers. “Did Karen mention if she’s learned who gave her the flowers?”
“No, why?”
She flicked her wrist. “I’m suspicious about everything now. It worries me that Karen received them from a ‘secret admirer.’ Especially now that I know these flowers are poisonous to dogs.”