ISOBEL SHOOK A PILLOW into a case and tossed it to Delphi. “You’re sure this is all right?”
“Will you stop? This is fine.” Delphi added the pillow to the pile of sofa cushions on the floor of Isobel’s room and flopped on them. “Why aren’t you and Hugh sharing a room?”
“We talked about it, but he was afraid it would look unprofessional. And to tell you the truth, I wanted my own space. I don’t exactly get that at home. No offense.”
“None taken. But you didn’t argue with him, which is probably what he wanted you to do,” Delphi said shrewdly.
“As you can see, the rooms are only big enough for a twin bed. And a friend on the floor.”
“That’s not the point,” Delphi said.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree. It was mutual. Anyway, if you get too uncomfortable, you can put the cushions back on the sofa and sleep in the living room.”
“Or I could kick you out of your bed and make you sleep on the floor.”
Isobel wagged a finger at her. “You have to be nice to me. I just got you a job.”
Delphi pulled a knobbly crocheted blanket to her chin. “I know I’m going to live to regret this. I’ll be in your debt until I cash in my Equity pension. If I ever manage to join the union, that is.”
Isobel had hoped to broach her Equity dilemma at the opening-night party in the café, which went on despite Arden’s death, albeit somewhat subdued. But Hugh had stayed by her side all evening, and she didn’t want his opinion influencing Delphi and Sunil. She’d resigned herself to trying to catch Sunil in the morning, but Delphi had just given her the perfect opening. Before she could frame her question, however, Delphi interrupted her thoughts.
“Say it: you think somebody killed Arden.”
Isobel perched on the edge of the bed. “Yes, I do. And if that’s the case, we’d have to be looking at some kind of poison. There was no obvious wound of any kind.”
Delphi lay back and gazed at the ceiling. “Poison’s tricky. Not always traceable. We may never know for sure.”
“That would make me very nervous.”
“All of this should make everyone very nervous.”
“Unfortunately, it should also make everyone suspect me,” Isobel said. “Between the masking and the note—”
Delphi rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow. “What note?”
“Sunil didn’t mention the note?”
“He did not.”
Isobel hopped off the bed and grabbed her jeans from the floor. “I’ll show you—” She stopped, the jeans dangling from her hand. “No, wait, I gave it to Kelly.”
“What did it say?”
“I’d left my script in the house during tech, and somebody drew an arrow pointing to one of Jennie’s highlighted lines and wrote ‘Die, bitch.’” Isobel gave a little hiccup. “And she did.”
“But if it was in your script, it was probably meant for you. Because if you’re covering, you’re Jennie also. In a way.”
“Yeah, but I’m not dead.” She shuddered. “Yet.”
“I think the police need to know about that note. Do you know what Kelly did with it?”
“She was going to show it to Felicity, but I don’t know if she ever did, given everything.”
“Did Arden have enemies?”
“She was a diva, but what show doesn’t have one of those? Even if she drove us all nuts, I can’t imagine anyone had a reason to kill her.”
Delphi gave her an appraising look. “Except you.”
“Et tu, Delphi?”
Delphi sat up. “Come on, you’re the only one who benefits in an obvious way from her death. You stepped in and saved the day in front of Roman Fried, and now you get to take over her role. Your name will be all over the New York Post tomorrow.”
“But I had no idea he would be here!”
“No, but you knew there were going to be producers in the audience.”
Isobel threw up her hands. “Whose side are you on anyway?”
“Yours, of course. But objectively speaking, it doesn’t look so good.”
“It’s even worse than you think.” Isobel plopped back down moodily on her bed, which responded with an extended creak of disapproval. “Arden’s on an Equity contract, which means her role has to go to an Equity actor.”
“Does that mean you don’t get the part?”
“It means I have to join Equity.”
“What?” Delphi clapped excitedly. “That’s amazing. Oh my God, I’m so jealous!”
“Now that’s the reaction I was looking for.”
“What do you mean?”
“Hugh doesn’t think I should do it. I can fill in for three days without joining while they find someone else. He thinks I need to keep building my resume. He says I don’t have enough credits yet to be competitive.” She felt a tear form in the corner of her eye.
Delphi pulled a wayward curl and let it spring back into place. “He’s not wrong. But if it were me, I’d take it and hope for the best. What does Sunil think?”
“Haven’t told him yet.”
“You’re right, though. If it turns out Arden was murdered, it’ll totally look like you killed her to get your Equity card.”
Isobel erupted with a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a snort. “Who on earth would do a thing like that?”
“The same kind of people who kill elderly relatives for their rent-controlled apartments,” Delphi said darkly. “Okay, I gotta sleep. I have to learn your track tomorrow, and you know I’m not the quickest musical study. I need every brain cell I can spare.”
“So you think I should do it?”
Delphi yawned. “It’s in my best interest, isn’t it? Then I’d get to play Emma for more than three performances. But yeah, take the contract. Live dangerously. Good night.”
Isobel switched off the lamp and hunkered under her covers. She lay awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling. She had gone on for the lead at the last minute and saved the day in front of an influential theater critic and probably a producer, and now she was being handed her union card—all in one night. But the fact that her good fortune had come at the expense of someone else’s life made it impossible to relish her triumph.