"He was in the audience this afternoon, you know," Rose remarked.
"Who are you talking about?" I hung my costume on a wire hanger in the wooden closet then tossed the pinafore apron and bonnet onto the shelf above it. It was a relief to be out of that dress. It itched to no end, and the fabric was heavy and uncomfortable. No wonder women from the 1800s always looked miserable in those black and white photographs.
Rose was sitting at the makeup table that we shared with the other girls. She brushed her sun-streaked blonde hair over her shoulders and smiled with satisfaction. "Howie Livingston, of course. Seriously, was there anyone else in the audience that mattered? I was spot on with my performance today too. He even stopped me afterwards to tell me what a great job I had done."
"Congratulations, that's terrific." I pulled on my T-shirt and jeans. Right now, my mind was preoccupied with other things than the show, such as the fact that Detective Ray was taking a good hard look at me and the Loco Moco.
Rose continued to watch me in the mirror, a smug look on her face. "Did he say anything to you?"
"No." Rose was okay—a little stuck on herself perhaps, but hey, if Howie wanted to transport her off to Hollywood, I wished her well. I always tried to look at life with the glass is half-full analogy. Maybe if Rose left, I'd get a lead role in the next production.
There were no more performances until Friday, five days away. Jeff had mentioned that he might call us in for a rehearsal one night, but other than that, we were on our own until the weekend. Thank goodness for small favors. As much as I loved performing, everything had begun to wear on me, and I needed a breather. Plus, I was scheduled to work every day this coming week. The rehearsals and performance schedule had been cutting into my pay, and I sorely needed the money.
Keanu was picking me up at my apartment in about an hour, and we were going out to dinner tonight. Afterward he'd planned to head over to Coral's house to speak with her. She'd called in sick today, and because of my absence, Keanu had been forced to ask Anna to come in again. Keanu had told me in an earlier text that he'd had enough of Coral's antics. This was the first time he'd ever had to fire an employee, and I knew he wasn't looking forward to it. Still, he readily accepted the fact that it was his job, and these things came with the territory. Keanu would be fine. In my opinion, there didn't seem to be anything he couldn't handle.
My heart swelled with pride as I thought about my boyfriend, and every day I fell a little harder for him. Although I wouldn't admit it to anyone, I was scared of my feelings and uneasy about giving my heart away. It had been broken so many times during the course of my life that I wasn't sure it could be repaired again.
"Did you hear what I said?" Rose asked, her voice tinged with impatience.
I jerked myself out of my thoughts. "Oh sorry, no."
"I overheard Howie tell Jeff that he wanted to get together tomorrow and discuss some things." Her face glowed. "Maybe I'll get a call to come and meet with them."
"Good luck. I hope it works out."
"Yoo-hoo!" Tad's voice resonated from the other side of the dressing room door. "Is everyone decent in there?"
I grinned. Tad was the breath of fresh air I sorely needed right now. "Come on in."
Tad opened the door. He was still wearing his Hana Hou T-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. He gave Rose a prissy smile that she returned and then addressed me. "Ready to go, love?"
"I think so." I turned around to say goodbye to Rose, but she was already on her cell, chatting to someone about how terrific her performance had been.
"Phew," Tad complained as we descended the stairs to the lower level. "That chick is so self-absorbed it makes me want to gag. You should have seen her fawning all over Howie after the show. Positively sickening."
"Well, it sounds like he might be interested in her. I understand how excited she must be." Seriously, it had to be a dream come true and difficult for me to not be envious of her.
"I thought you were terrific today, hon," Tad said. "You were off yesterday, which is understandable after what happened. But today you totally rocked the house."
I squeezed his arm. "Thanks. I needed to hear that."
We passed in front of Jeff's office, as his angry voice sounded from the other side of the door. "Seriously, what do you want from me?"
We exchanged glances with each another. No one else was around, and my curiosity swelled to the size of Rose's ego. Jeff might not be the easiest person to get along with, but he was also the best director I'd ever had. Sure, he'd yelled at me yesterday, but that was part of the job
"I know he came to see you," another man answered. There was something familiar about his voice, but I couldn't place it.
Tad pointed his finger at the closed door and whispered. "Howie?"
I shook my head. The voice didn't belong to Howie.
"Yeah, Howie and I had lunch with him on Friday," Jeff said. "The day before—" He paused. "What's your point?"
"I just want to make sure that I get what's coming to me." The anonymous male voice spoke stiffly.
Jeff's voice now resembled a low, angry growl. "Your axe to grind has nothing to do with me. Randy and I haven't been close in years."
"Maybe not," Mr. Anonymous said, "but if he has a stake in this theater, like Howie does, I'm entitled to his share."
There was silence for about thirty seconds. When Jeff spoke again, his menacing tone sent ice crystals through my veins. "This is a small community theater. What the hell do you think, that I make millions here? Yeah, he wanted to be an investor, and I told him no. For your information, Howie doesn't have a share either. He's still thinking about it. So I don't owe you anything. You have no papers or anything else to prove ownership because they don't exist. Anyhow, why would you even care about my hole-in-the-wall theater? You've got bigger fish to fry."
"What's that supposed to mean?" the man asked.
Jeff chuckled. "I've heard the rumors about you and Belinda. I'm sure the press has too. If I were you, I might disappear from the island for a while. It's only a matter of time before the police get wind of your relationship, if you get my drift."
Tad's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. He had that look on his face that plainly said, "I know a secret!" Tad was the proverbial town gossip, and as much as I adored him, the fact remained that he couldn't keep anything to himself, even if his life depended on it.
"Are you threatening me?" Mr. Anonymous demanded.
"No," Jeff replied. "Frankly, I don't care what you and Belinda do. I don't want anything to do with this mess. Now if you don't mind, I have more important things to attend to."
Before Tad and I could move, the door was jerked open. Cripes. Both men stared out at us in surprise. This was the second time in as many days that I'd been caught snooping. I might get a reputation if this kept up.
The man began to move past us, but his eyes rested on mine for a moment, and I wondered if he'd recognized me. Now I knew why the voice had sounded familiar. It was the man who'd been talking to Belinda by the elevator this morning. Who is he?
Jeff narrowed his eyes. "Was there something you two wanted?"
Homina, homina, homina. Okay, how to get out of this one. No, we don't want anything, Jeff. We were only listening in on your conversation.
Tad swallowed hard. "Uh, Jeff, I wanted to see you. I was wondering if you might be available for drinks later."
God bless Tad. Jeff wasn't married, and I had no idea of his relationship status. He was a good-looking guy, but I honestly didn't know if Tad was his type or not. I'd thought that Tad might prefer Gary, but who really knew? Anyone was fair game as far as Tad was concerned.
Jeff's stern face broke out into a wide smile. "Ah. Thanks, Tad, but my girlfriend is expecting me."
"Damn," Tad cursed under his breath. "Well, it was worth a shot."
I had to know. "Who was that man? I saw him at the Aloha Lagoon Resort this morning."
The smile on Jeff's face faded. "What was he doing there?"
I probably shouldn't have mentioned the encounter, but it was too late now. "I saw him with Randolph Cremshaw's wife."
Jeff frowned. "Obviously, you heard about his death. The man you just saw is his brother."
I should have guessed. "Richard Cremshaw?"
"How'd you know his name?" Jeff asked, surprised.
"I was the one to find Randolph after he died. The police questioned me, and then I learned he had a brother who lived in Hawaii. Please don't tell anyone about my finding Randolph," I added quickly. "The Loco Moco has already been affected enough by his blog."
Jeff scratched his head thoughtfully. "Wow. I heard that he'd died after a food delivery—it's all over the island. But I never made the connection with the Loco Moco, or that you were the one who delivered it. I thought it might have been Starlight."
I shook my head. "No such luck."
"That had to be a horrible experience for you, Carrie." Jeff suddenly looked sheepish. "I shouldn't have yelled at you last night. Why didn't you tell me what had happened?"
My face grew warm. "I didn't want to make excuses for my performance. You were right—I was off."
"Well, you certainly had your reasons," Jeff muttered.
I felt comfortable enough now to ask the other question that had been racing through my head. "How did you know Randolph?"
Jeff folded his arms across his chest. "We went to college together—Howie, Randolph, and me. Richard went there as well. He was two years behind us."
"Is he really involved with Randolph's wife?" I asked.
He narrowed his eyes. "You were listening in on our conversation."
Oops. I plodded on, trying to ignore his accusation. "I'm pretty sure they were in the same hotel room together. He came out right after she did. Do you think they could have been involved in his death?"
Jeff pressed his lips together in a stubborn manner. "Carrie, I don't want to comment on this. To be honest, I don't know much. Howie and I had lunch with Randy the day before he died. Randy was interested in becoming an investor in my theater. Then again, he might have only been interested because he knew Howie was thinking about it as well. He was like Howie's shadow, always following him around."
"Was he looking for a part in Howie's next picture?" I couldn't imagine why else Randolph would be so interested in the man.
Jeff shook his head. "I think Randy hoped Howie might help him get his own talk show started."
"Did Howie dislike him too?" Tad asked eagerly.
Jeff glared at him. "Howie doesn't dislike anyone. He's one of the nicest guys I've ever met. You'd be hard pressed to find anyone who actually liked Randy, especially anyone who owns a restaurant. He's reviewed almost everyone in this state."
"Not the Loco Moco," I remarked.
"Don't get me wrong," Jeff said. "The Loco Moco has fantastic food, but it's not exactly fine dining. Something more of Randy's caliber would have been Starlight by the Lagoon. It's a known fact that the manager there can't stand him. Randy told me that the guy punched him out last year after his latest review of the place hit Dining Is Divine."
Tad's eyes were round as saucers. "Dining Is Divine? That's like—the most popular cuisine magazine around. Bobby Flay was featured in it last month!"
My ears perked up while I processed Jeff's latest tidbit of information. Keanu knew the manager of Starlight, Jonathan Skyler. Then again, Keanu pretty much knew everybody who was associated with the resort in any shape or form because of his position at the Loco Moco and his parents. Every time we dined there, we received a premier table. Maybe we could go there for dinner tonight and have a little chat with Jonathan.
Jeff glanced at his watch. "If you two are done interrogating me now, I'm off to meet my girlfriend."
"Sorry to have kept you," I said.
Jeff moved back into his office. "Carrie, I'm taking the actors out on Friday night for drinks after the show, so please try to be available this time."
Cripes. This guy was like a faucet, on and then off again before I could blink an eye. Why the attitude? "That sounds great, Jeff."
He gave us both a thumbs-up. "See you guys later."
"Well," Tad huffed as we made our way to his car. "How nice that he didn't even bother to invite me to the soiree."
Good grief. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you came along."
"Hmm." Tad pouted openly as he arranged the Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses on his face. "I don't go where I'm not wanted."
"Stop being so sensitive." Heck, I would have been willing to let Tad go in my place. I'd spent more than enough time with Jeff lately.
Tad stuck his nose proudly in the air and pulled his car out of the parking lot and onto the main road. "Where are we headed, love?"
"You can drop me off at my apartment. I need to change before I meet Keanu for dinner."
His green eyes sparkled like jewels. "How is that gorgeous boy toy of yours?"
Tad always knew how to put me in a better mood. "He's fine. We're fine, actually."
"You two make such a cute couple," he cooed. "But be careful. I've seen the way Coral looks at him. She even posted something cryptic on Facebook the other day saying that the only good thing about her job was the hot-looking manager."
My head turned. "You're friends with Coral on Facebook?"
He tossed his head. "Of course. I'm friends with everyone."
I didn't doubt it. Tad was a Facebook junkie and posted about everything from the weather to what not to wear when out clubbing. He had about 4,000 friends compared to my measly one hundred. I'd noticed that he even had friends who posted on his timeline asking for advice on romance or fashion. He was the Ann Landers of our generation.
I was dying to get a look at Coral's Facebook page. "Can I see your account for a second?"
He grabbed his phone from the console and handed it to me, eyes still fixed on the road. "My face is an open book for you, love."
I suppressed a laugh and started scrolling through his list of contacts. After a minute, I grew impatient and finally just typed the letter C in and found Coral after making my way through about one hundred Cathys, Carlas, and Cindys.
"So what about you and that gorgeous hunk of man you're dating? Hey, doesn't the K-man belong to a baseball team?"
I wondered where he was going with this. "Yes, but he hasn't played in a while. Too much work at the restaurant."
Tad grinned impishly. "But has he hit a home run with Miss Carrie Jorgenson yet?"
"Good God," I muttered. "Not you too. Come on. Some things are private, you know?"
"Look, honey. We all want the juicy details," he said. "Do you think you guys will get married?"
This startled me. "No idea. Nothing like jumping the gun, right? We've only been dating for a few months, Tad."
"Ah." He waved a hand dismissively. "Some people get married after only a few weeks. Yours is a case of true love at first sight."
"You're a born romantic," I teased.
He nodded. "I am, love. Truly, I am. It's plain to see the man is crazy about you. How do you feel about him?"
I hesitated for a moment. Tad's legendary blabber mouth was getting in the way of my admission. "I…I care for him very much."
"Oh," he mocked. "You care for him very much. This isn't Little Women, sweetheart, so lose the pathetic dialogue. Just admit you want to sleep with the guy."
"Tad!"
I found Coral's profile and clicked on it. The very first post that caught my eye almost made me drop the phone. "Check this out. 'I work with the biggest bunch of losers on the island.'"
Tad giggled. "Guess she didn't get the memo about not dissing your job on social media."
Maybe it didn't matter because I doubted that she would be employed at the Loco Moco for much longer. I clicked on her picture albums and started scrolling through the photos.
"You should get your cutest little nightie," Tad went on, "and then show up on K's doorstep at midnight. Wear yellow. It looks good with your skin tone."
"I hope you're kidding."
"Oh fine, pink will do."
Frustrated, I shook my head. "Can you please get your mind out of the gutter for a second? I'm not going to…"
I stopped in midsentence and stared down at the current picture on Tad's phone. It was of a little girl who bore a distinct resemblance to Coral. She was standing next to a tall man wearing a straw hat and glasses. Both looked extremely uncomfortable in the photograph.
My mouth went dry. "Ohmigod. Look what I just found."
Tad pulled over to the curb and took the phone from my outstretched hands. His eyes widened, and he whistled low in his throat. "Holy pineapples. Is that who I think it is?"
I nodded. "Yes. The one and only Randolph Cremshaw."