“Quinn!” I called outside the general store as I picked up Huckleberry.
He was halfway up the sidewalk. To my relief, he stopped and waited for me to catch up.
Holding Huckleberry, I ran up to him. “What was that all about?”
He balanced the two cardboard coffee cup holders in his hands. “What do you mean?”
“You and Baker. You guys were shooting daggers at each other.”
“I think that’s a bit overdramatic.” He started walking again.
Huckleberry grew heavy in my arms. I set him on the sidewalk, pulled his leash out of my pocket, and snapped it on his collar. The little dog began to walk beside me.
“I don’t think I’m being overdramatic at all. It’s clear that the two of you don’t like each other,” I said.
Quinn eyed me. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but that’s not unusual. Not everyone likes everyone else. That’s just life.” He eyed me. “Anyway, it seems you like him enough for the both of us.”
I jerked back. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” he said.
I shook my head. “I don’t have time for this.”
“You had time enough for a date.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
He snorted. “I bet if we ask Baker that question, he will have a different answer.”
“You’re being impossible. You haven’t changed a bit in fifteen years!”
“And you are a completely different person,” he shot back.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What does that mean?”
“Logan wouldn’t even recognize you today. You’ve changed so much.”
I felt like I had been donkey kicked in the stomach.
“You think you can just come back to Cherry Glen and pick up where you left off by saving your father and saving the farm. I’ve got news for you: Logan is still dead.”
Tears gathered in my eyes. “I know that.” My voice was barely above a whisper.
“You should remember that before you go on dates with other men.”
I stared at him. “Logan died fifteen years ago. Do you think he would want me to spend the rest of my life alone?”
“No,” he said. “But you shouldn’t be with someone like that, someone Logan wouldn’t have liked.”
“Who should I be with?”
He glared at me and then dropped his shoulders. “Sorry I ruined your date.”
“It wasn’t a date!” My face turned red. Why was I shouting, and why did I feel like I had to explain myself to Quinn Killian? He wasn’t even my friend. He had been Logan’s friend, and clearly if I even looked at another man, he saw it as some kind of betrayal of Logan. I took a breath. “I’ll say it for the last time. I only agreed to go to coffee with him because he told me he was the town planner. I thought he would be able to tell me something about Crocker and the wind farm. Since the farm was to be in town, I would think the town planner would have to be involved with the plans.”
“And did he?” Quinn asked.
“Not really, but he just started to get to that part of the conversation, and then you showed up.”
“So it’s my fault you didn’t learn anything.”
“No.” I sighed. “I’m not blaming you; I’m just telling you what happened.” I shook my head. My brain was already jumbled with everything that had happened since I came back to Cherry Glen. I couldn’t get in the middle of whatever guy issues Quinn and Baker had with each other. It wasn’t my business and not my problem. This conversation was pointless.
“I have to go.” I picked up Huckleberry and hustled down the street.
“Shiloh, be careful!” Quinn called after me.
I turned the corner without looking back, wondering why he felt like he had to give me that warning.
I walked to the theater. Huckleberry followed me around the building and in through the front door of the theater. We had just crossed the threshold when a high-pitched voice said, “I’m not going to work with a murderess.”
Minnie was in the building.
“She’s the only one I have,” Stacey told Minnie as Huckleberry and I stood close to the front door, debating whether to make a run for it. Truth was, I didn’t know what the pug was thinking, but I was definitely tempted to bolt.
“I don’t care,” Minnie said back. “I can’t even be in the same room with her.”
Stacey folded her arms. “Well, you already are, because she’s here.”
Ack, I had been spotted. So much for my plan to flee. I joined them by the ticket booth. Huckleberry walked behind me.
“Hi,” I said when I reached them. It was the best I could come up with after what I’d heard. I thought it was a pretty warm greeting considering Minnie’s comments.
“I’m glad you’re on time. I was just telling Minnie how things will work on opening night. The sales need to go like clockwork. We only have one chance to make a good first impression.”
“Are you helping with the ticket booth too, Minnie? How can you do that if you’re in the play?”
“I’m not in the play,” Minnie said like that was a ridiculous idea. “As part of the Women’s League for the Betterment of Cherry Glen, I’m running concessions.”
“The Women’s League for the Betterment of Cherry Glen?”
“Yes, we just call it the Women’s League for short. At least most of the members do. I much prefer if people call it by its full name.” She sniffed. “People just don’t have the patience for it.” She said this like it was a character flaw on their part.
“It sounds like a great organization.”
Minnie studied me as if assessing if I were lying.
“Cherry Glen is a wonderful town,” I went on. “I’m happy to come home and see how much it has changed and improved.”
She sniffed again. “Thank you, but this doesn’t mean I don’t think you are a murderer.”
I dropped my head.
Minnie didn’t seem to notice and said, “I will have to work with you if you’re at the ticket booth. Stay out of my way.”
“Noted,” I said.
Huckleberry gave a quiet bark as if he agreed. I leaned over and patted his head. I appreciated his backup.
“Now that we got that settled,” Stacey said. “I want to go over how money will be handled by both of you.”
“Settled?” Minnie shrieked. “Things are most definitely not settled. They aren’t settled at all.” She pointed her finger at me. “Kathy Killian is a good friend of mine. She told me you had Hazel at your farm when she should have been with her grandmother.” She folded her arms as if that were all she needed to rest her case.
Ah, yet another reason for Quinn’s mother to have a low opinion of me.
“Minnie,” Stacey snapped. “That’s enough. The play opens tomorrow night. There is no time left to make any changes. You will work with my cousin. I’m not asking you to like it. The Women’s League committed to this project. Do you want the group to look bad by backing out?”
“I suppose you don’t give me any choice,” Minnie said.
“I don’t,” my cousin agreed. “Now, can we start?”
“Yes,” I said. I was eager to learn what I needed to know and then get out of there and as far away from Minnie as possible. It didn’t feel like I was in any danger when I was around her, but it wasn’t comfortable to be around someone who disliked me so strongly.
All business now, Stacey went over the ticket system, how to collect money, where the receipts should go, and also where to find the extra supplies of concessions, or in my case, tickets.
“Like I told you before, Shiloh, opening night is sold out. Most people booked online, so they will only have to scan the barcode they received via email. However, it is possible they will want to buy a ticket for another night, so you need to be prepared.”
I nodded.
“I don’t need to hear this part,” Minnie said. “Before creating the Women’s League for the Betterment of Cherry Glen, I ran the local boosters club for the high school for forty years and was at every home football and basketball game. I don’t need to be taught how to run a concessions booth.” Minnie sniffed.
Stacey pressed her lips together and then said, “I have no doubt you will do a great job, Minnie.”
The older woman puffed out her chest just a little. I believed that was just the sort of praise she was looking for. “Very good.” She picked up her handbag from the ticket counter. “I’ll be here tomorrow afternoon to make sure everything is set up for the show.” She marched to the theater’s front door.
Stacey shook her head. “I wish I could say that I could replace Minnie, but the truth is, she is the queen of the concessions. I can’t have any mistakes this first weekend of the show, so I will put up with her for now.” She glanced at me. “Are you ready?”
“I think so. It seems straightforward from what I can tell.”
She nodded. “Good. I want you here at no later than five tomorrow. The show starts at seven. You don’t need to be here quite as early as Minnie, since you don’t have much setup.” She started across the chipped wood floor to the grand staircase that led into the theater itself.
“Stace,” I said and hurried after her.
Behind me, Huckleberry’s toenails made a click, click, click sound on the floor.
She glanced over her shoulder. “If you want to talk to me, you will have to come to rehearsal. I’m already running behind. I hope they are already in process like I asked.” She made her way up the steps. I followed at a quick pace.
I looked behind me to see Huckleberry staring bewildered up at the large red-carpeted steps. He hopped on the first one, paused, and then went onto the next. His progress to the theater would be slow.
“Stacey,” I said as I walked behind her. “Can you tell me about the guns that were being used for the play?”
She eyed me. “Not this again. I’m tired of talking about those guns.” She reached the landing and headed to the left theater door.
“Stacey, it’s important. How many guns did you borrow from my dad?”
With her hand on the handle of the door, she turned and looked at me. Then she sighed. “Five for the senate members who will murder Caesar.”
“Do you still plan to carry on the scene in the same way? Shooting Caesar instead of stabbing him?”
She tightened her grip on the door handle. “Why should I change my play? Just because someone stole one of the guns and used it wrongly does not mean I have to change my play. In order to set the play in the time period I want, this is the best, most dramatic way.”
I frowned. I wanted to tell her that making changes after Crocker’s tragic death would not compromise the play, but I thought better of it. When Stacey made up her mind, there was no way to change it.
“And were the individual guns assigned to any particular actor?”
She frowned. “No.”
“So the gun that was stolen could have been used by any of the actors playing a role in the senate?”
“Yes.” She scowled at me. “Do you have a point?”
“I—I don’t know. It just seems significant.” As I said this, Huckleberry crested the final step and lay splayed on the landing like he had just climbed Mount Everest.
“When you figure it out, let me know. I have a play to direct.” She opened the door and went inside. I caught the door with my hand before it could slam closed after her.
Inside the theater, I saw seven actors on the stage. Six of them stood around the mayor as Julius Caesar. My father as the soothsayer stood in the wings.
The mayor held his arms out to hold them back. “‘And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive. Yet in the number I do know but one that unassailable holds on his rank, unshaked of motion; and that I am he let me a little show it, even in this: that I was constant Cimber should be banished and constant do remain to keep him so.’”
The other men quickly said their brief lines, and the guns went off in a cloud of smoke. “‘Et tu, Brute? Then fall, Caesar!’” The mayor collapsed to the floor.
There was silence. No one on the stage or in the theater moved for several seconds. When the smoke cleared, it was impossible to know who shot which gun. It could have been any of them.
“‘People and senators, be not affrighted. Fly not; stand still. Ambition’s debt is paid,’” the actor playing Brutus recited.
“Cut!” Stacey called as she made her way down the aisle. “I need you all to do that scene again so I can fix the staging. It was all off. Two of you were standing in front of Caesar. We can’t have that. The audience has to be able to see his death scene.”
The mayor stood up and dusted himself off. “I think I did a great death scene. Yes, I need the audience to see it and fully appreciate my tragic end.”
I stepped out of the theater, and my brain whirled. I knew I had learned something important today. What exactly, I could not be sure.