ISOBEL DREW AWAY FROM him, agog. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Sunil knew he sounded stupid, but he also knew what he’d seen. “He was in the vom before the show, and then I saw him again in the wings after ‘The Washington Post,’ dressed in Revolutionary garb. It was the ghost of Robert Livingston.”
“I don’t doubt there’s a ghost in the theater. What I can’t get my head around is you admitting you saw it.”
He grabbed her hand. “Come on. We have to find it.”
She pulled free. “That’s not how ghosts work. They find you. Besides, we have to change for act two.” She hurried into the wings, calling over her shoulder, “By the way, you’re amazing!”
He rushed after her, but suddenly Delphi was there, throwing her arms around him. “You are absolutely magnetic! I can’t take my eyes off you when you’re onstage!”
“Thanks, but I can’t right now.” He patted her shoulders and pushed past her, not before noticing the flash of hurt on her face.
In different circumstances, he might have seized on the unexpected encouragement to press his suit, but he could only file away the compliment for quiet enjoyment and hope to recapture the moment later. Right now he had other fish to fry, and exactly fifteen minutes to do it.
First thing was to return to the scene of the initial sighting. He scurried downstairs to the pit, where musicians were milling about the entrance. Sunil slowed his pace and crept quietly into the vom. It was empty, except for the stacked chairs near the stage left stairs. He leaned against the wall where he had prayed earlier and half-closed his eyes, waiting for a shadow to pass again. Nothing happened. He continued around to the other side of the stage and yanked open the door to the stage right bathroom, but it too was empty. He climbed the stairs where he had seen the figure retreat earlier, but the wings were now a bustle of activity as the running crew set up for act two. The black and gold cape was nowhere to be seen.
As Sunil hurried back to his dressing room to change, he realized it was unlikely the ghost would make an appearance during intermission when there were so many people around. He didn’t know why, but he felt certain the ghost wanted him, and him alone, to acknowledge its presence. When he returned to the wings stage left costumed for act two, he realized the only place he hadn’t looked was the one he had been too scared to visit before the show. He steeled himself, opened the side door, and silently crept out into the alley.
ISOBEL HAD MASTERED buttoning herself into her second-act costume in under five minutes, and she was changed and gone before Delphi returned to their dressing room. A truly bizarre thought had taken hold, and she had exactly ten minutes to check her theory. She stuffed her phone and her kid gloves into the little drawstring purse she carried in act two. In the wings, she waited until Heather was otherwise occupied, and then Isobel opened the stage door into the lobby.
She realized her folly immediately. The lines for the bathrooms snaked around the corner, and she was in full view of most of the female and a handful of male patrons. Passing them to get to the main stairwell would draw unwanted attention.
“Oh, honey! You have such a lovely voice,” a woman called.
“Muriel, look, that’s the girl playing Jennie!” exclaimed another.
Isobel gave a feeble wave. Her mission would have to wait. She had a solid twenty-minute break midway through act two from the scene between Mrs. Blakely and Sousa through the international touring medley, where Talia sang her second aria. That was a much safer bet. She took refuge backstage, thinking back to the end of act one. Sunil was certainly acting strangely. Last summer, when she’d seen the ghost onstage at the Galaxy Playhouse, he never believed her, in spite of mounting evidence in support of her claim. To this day, he refused to acknowledge her brush with the supernatural. And now he was claiming one himself? Impossible. He was up to something, and whatever it was he didn’t want her involved.
Fine, she thought, if he was going to be that way. But it wasn’t like him, and she had to admit she was curious. She glanced at her phone. Five minutes to go. Just in case he was telling the truth, she circled behind the set and descended the stairs to the vom.
“Hello?” she called. “Show yourself! I’m a welcoming spirit. A friend.”
“I’m jolly glad to hear that.”
Isobel clapped her hand over her heart. “Hugh, you scared me!”
“What are you doing back here? I was on my way back to the pit, and I hear you carrying on like a bacchante.”
“I was looking for the theater ghost. Sunil claims he had a sighting here earlier, but I don’t believe him.”
“I should hope not. He never did you the courtesy of believing you.” Hugh came toward her and took her hand. “Beautiful job tonight, as always. You and Sunil are quite magical together. You have real chemistry.” For a moment, she was afraid he might kiss her, and she didn’t want to have to deal with that in the middle of everything else. But he brushed her fingers with his lips instead. “Now, go slay them in act two!”
She winced. “Maybe not the best choice of words.”
Hugh gave a pained shrug and continued to the pit. She looked down the empty passage. Even if the ghost decided to turn up now, there was no time left to pursue it. She sighed and tromped back up the stairs. As she came to the top, she heard a muffled banging. It seemed to be coming from the door to the alley. She wrenched the door open, and Sunil stumbled into her arms.
“What were you doing out there?”
“Nothing, it was stupid. I thought…I don’t know what I thought. Anyway I got locked out. Thank God you came along.”
“Someone would have heard you eventually, or Kelly would have flipped out when she called places and you didn’t show.” A shadow crossed Isobel’s face. “Did anyone see you go outside?”
“I don’t think so. Why?”
Before she could answer, her phone buzzed in her purse. She scanned the text and felt a flash of terror before reason took over.
“What is it?” Sunil asked.
She darkened the screen and palmed the phone. “Nothing important.”
“Places,” Kelly called.
“If you say so.” He sounded unconvinced. “Meet you at the double bar line.”
Here’s hoping, she thought as he took his position in the wings. She turned her phone over and reread the text from Roman Fried.
Enjoy your last performance.