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Sandra and Bob picked up Jan and Frank’s trail and overheard Jan berating him in the office. “Why are you here? I am perfectly capable of looking for a cell phone on my own!” Sandra couldn’t hear Frank’s response, but he must have said something because Jan’s ire increased. “Go look in another room! Get away from me! If you don’t buzz off, I’m not going to help look!”
Bob looked at Sandra with one eyebrow cocked. His silent expression said, I told you so.
Sandra still wasn’t convinced. If Jan had killed someone, wouldn’t she be doing a better job of acting innocent?
Frank came out of the office, started when he saw Sandra, and then headed down the stairs.
“I think we should stay with her,” Bob said.
Sandra was not surprised to hear that this was the plan. For several minutes, they stood stupidly in the hallway doing nothing, waiting for Jan to search the small office.
Suddenly, Bob said, “I’m going in,” and vanished.
Sandra leaned against the wall to wait and flinched when the wall creaked beneath her weight.
Just when she was sure the police would arrive before Jan ever left the office, Bob appeared in front of her, grabbed her forearm, and yanked her into the shadows. Then he peeked around the corner. “She’s coming out,” he narrated. “And she just went into the concessions booth.” He vanished again.
This was stupid. She was wasting her time waiting for Bob to spy on someone who was not the killer, someone who was actually trying to help. She needed to find Otis and Billy. They’d said they would go look for Peter outside, but surely they weren’t still out there? They’d be Popsicles by now. She decided to check everywhere inside before venturing out to look for them, partly because she was sure they were back inside by now and partly because she didn’t want to go out in the storm.
She went back through the auditorium, which was still empty, and down the treacherous back stairs. She rechecked the kitchen and found Frank shining a flashlight into the refrigerator. “Hungry?”
He looked at her as if she were stupid. “No, I’m looking for that blasted phone.”
Oh yeah. She’d just told him to do that, hadn’t she? “Right. Of course. I was just kidding. Have you seen Otis or Billy?”
He shook his head. “Sorry, no. I haven’t seen anyone since I saw you upstairs.”
“All right. Thanks for your help.” Sandra left the kitchen and headed for the costume room, wondering why they hadn’t thought to look there first. What a great place to hide something, with all those pockets.
Her stomach sank when she saw Jan with her hand on the doorknob of the props room. Bob stood right beside her.
“Why is this locked?” Jan snapped when she saw Sandra. “This can’t be locked! This is never locked! We don’t even have a key!”
“Uh ...”
“You said you searched it! Did you lock it?”
“Maybe? I’m sorry, it was an accident.”
“Accident?” Jan screeched. “How can you accidentally lock a door? The phone could be in there! Your son could be in there! We need to open this door!” She was screaming now, and as Sandra stepped closer, she could see that the woman’s face was as red as a lobster. Was she going to have a heart attack?
“Maybe we should sit down for a minute.” Sandra reached for Jan’s elbow, but she yanked it away from her.
“I don’t need to sit down! I need to search the props room!” Still screeching.
“Jan, I’m concerned about you. I can’t imagine how stressful this must be—”
“You have no idea how stressful this is. You don’t know anything about me, or what I’ve done for this theater.” Her voice cracked, and she turned to stare at the door. “I would do anything for this place,” she said softly, and though Sandra felt bad that Jan was crying, she was so grateful that the screaming had stopped.
She put a hand on her back. “I’m so sorry, Jan. Really, let’s go sit down for a minute. Maybe if we talk this out together, we can figure out—”
“I don’t want to talk anything out with you!” Back to screeching. “What I want is to search this prop closet!” She pounded on the door, and for one panicked moment, Sandra worried Ethel might open it.
Sandra stood there, frozen. What should she do? She looked to Bob for help, but he also looked stymied. They were being steamrolled, and Sandra felt powerless to stop it.
Otis emerged from the shadows, no longer wearing the “extra layers” he’d borrowed from the prop room. Good, she’d been right. He wasn’t outside looking anymore. “What’s wrong, Jan?” He put a hand on her shoulder, and she let him. Absurdly, Sandra felt a pang of jealousy. Why did Jan like Otis and not her?
In a normal volume, Jan explained, “Someone took Treasure’s cell phone. I am looking for it.” Her words came out staccato. Sandra had never heard her talk like that. Otis stared at her as if trying to read her, but before he could say anything, Jan said, “Go away. I’ll find it. You go look for the boy.”
Otis stood there staring for another several seconds, and then walked away.
Sandra turned to follow him, leaving Bob to deal with Jan and the locked door. “Otis, wait up!” She jogged up the stairs to catch him. “Have you seen any signs of Peter? I sure do appreciate that you’re helping to look.”
He gave her that same weird stare, as if he was trying to peer into her mind. Did he suspect her? Is that what was happening here? Was he staring into her eyes in hopes of seeing a flicker of guilt? Why on earth would she hide her own son? Oh wait, she had hid her own son, hadn’t she?
“Sorry, nothing yet. But I’ll keep looking.” He turned and started up the stairs.
“Where have you looked?”
He paused and looked back over his shoulder. “Pardon?”
“Where have you looked already? So I’ll know where to look.”
He paused for too long. How could he not know where he’d looked? Maybe he hadn’t looked at all. “I’ve looked everywhere,” he finally said. Oh, so maybe he’d been trying to think of a place he hadn’t looked. That made sense.
“So where are you going to look now?”
He shrugged one shoulder as he turned to go up the stairs again. “Guess I’m going to start over.”
She couldn’t think of anything else to ask him, so she let him get a head start. She still followed him, in case she thought of something intelligent to say, but she gave him enough buffer to keep him from realizing she was tailing him. She hoped. As she watched him duck into the concessions booth, the outside door opened just feet to her left, scaring the absolute tar out of her.
In blew frigid air, fat pinging raindrops, and Billy.
“Hey, Sandra,” he said, sounding resigned, as he shook the ice out of his hair.
She couldn’t believe it. “Why are you still out there!?”
He looked around in all directions, and then grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. Her breath caught. He looked into her eyes with the gravest expression in his, and said, “I found something and I’m afraid it’s not good.”