On the morning of the Oscars, Bruce grabbed his car keys and headed out.
Viveca frowned. “Where are you going?”
Bruce shrugged offhandedly. “To the store.”
“What for?”
“Beer.”
“Beer?”
“To celebrate your Oscar victory.”
“You’re going to celebrate my Oscar with beer?”
“I like beer.”
“I might not win.”
“You’ll win.”
“Aren’t you going to get dressed?”
“I am dressed.”
“For the ceremony!”
“I’m a guy. It doesn’t take me long to get dressed.”
“I know, but—”
He was already out the door.
Bruce had commandeered one end of the garage for a workshop, complete with table saw, drill press, and power tools. He unlocked the cabinet and took out the small tool kit, electrical tester, and work permit he’d used before. He locked the cabinet, hopped in the car, and took off.
As he drove, he pulled out his cell phone and called Rachael, the production assistant from the theater who had helped him before. “Hi there, this is the electrical inspector again. I’m on my way to the Palladium for my final check. Do you have the final presentation schedule ready?”
“Yes.”
“Great. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”
Rachael was waiting when he drove up to the theater. He took the time to park legally. The last thing he needed was to get a parking ticket with Viveca’s car.
Bruce grabbed his tool kit and hopped out.
Rachael was holding a file folder.
“Is that the schedule?”
She nodded.
Bruce flipped through the file, apparently randomly, being careful to note that the location for the Best Actress award was included. “Perfect. I know my way around now, so I don’t need to take up more of your time. I’ll check out the connections and be on my way.”
Inside, Bruce blended with the people scurrying in all directions making last-minute preparations. He made his way to the front of the auditorium and slipped out the side door near the stage. From there he made his way to the fire door to the stairs below.
Underneath the stage, the catwalks and scaffolding were still in place. Bruce scurried up the ladder to the top. He took the schedule Rachael had given him, and checked it one last time. There was no mistake. The award for Best Actress would be presented from the stage-right microphone.
Bruce worked his way across the catwalk. Sure enough, there on the crossbeam underneath the stage, was the X he’d marked before.
Bruce set his tool kit down on the catwalk, popped it open, and got to work.
When he was finished, Bruce climbed down from the catwalk, went up the stairs, through the fire door, and out a back door.
He was halfway home before he remembered he’d told Viveca he’d gone out to get beer. He stopped at a convenience store and bought a six-pack.
He drove home, locked his tool kit in the cabinet, grabbed the beer, and went back in the house, hoping that Viveca wouldn’t notice how long he’d taken.
He shouldn’t have worried. Viveca was busy with hair and makeup preparations, and had barely noticed he was gone.