“By the way,” Ryan said, as the last curtain closed on Aunt Amelia and her cast of The Sea Witch, “Phoebe is on her way to Paris to face charges for stealing some statue of a ballet dancer.”
“Not just any statue, a Degas.” Liz’s palms were hot and itchy from all the standing ovations they’d given Aunt Amelia and Susannah. The pair had even held hands at the play’s end and bowed. Liz had to commend herself. The changes she’d made to the script had made both her great-aunt and Susannah happy. She was also happy she’d talked Aunt Amelia out of the idea of building a cyclorama water tank like they’d used on Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea. Even Aunt Amelia’s boyfriend, Ziggy, owner of the theater, had vetoed that idea. Something he never did when it came to his Amelia.
Now they had a few months before the next production. And Liz would make sure she had nothing to do with it.
Liz explained about the statue. “It was supposed to be her and Branson’s inheritance from their father. It looks like greedy Phoebe stole it and then tried to sell it. Garrett’s P.I. found out from someone at one of our local pawn shops. Dorian bought it back and Phoebe’s in Paris, pleading to the authorities, saying that following her father’s funeral, it mistakenly found its way into her luggage when she returned to the States. Doubt if that defense will fly.”
“I think before the next event at the Indialantic, everyone should go through a diligent background screening.”
Liz laughed. “Please. Don’t even say the word event.”
Ryan handed his playbill to Liz and she stowed it in her handbag. He said, “I guess things could have turned out worse for Branson now that he’s been arraigned for manslaughter. The other charges of him being an accomplice to murder have been dropped for lack of evidence. And did you hear Dorian and Garret are planning to go to Bali after the trial?”
“I’m glad Dorian has Garrett. And the IRS audit of Dorian’s finances were cleared without a single red flag. I just hope the pair don’t plan on getting married at the Indialantic by the Sea. A nice quiet ceremony in Bali would be so much better. Or even London, when Aunt Amelia, you, and I meet up with them for Betty’s book launch of The Insensible Equation.”
“Little matchmaker. By the way, I ran into Ashley and lifeguard Josh at Squidly’s. Looks like you struck again.”
Liz laughed and squeezed his hand, “I had nothing to do with that, it was Karma. But I know a good guy when I see one. I picked you, didn’t I?”
“You picked me…I thought I picked you.”
“We picked each other,” she said, pulling him to her and giving him a long, hard kiss.
“Ms. Holt, I’m surprised at you. This is a public establishment.”
“Well Mr. Stone, are you saying you never want me to do that again?”
“No, I’m saying…” He pulled her to him.
The lights in the theater went off.
“I guess it’s time to go see Auntie,” she said with a laugh.
They got up from their seats and made their way to her great-aunt’s dressing room.
A long line of well-wishers was waiting in the hallway to congratulate Aunt Amelia. “Everyone from the Indialantic must be inside already,” Liz said, “there will be a mutiny if we cut ahead. You know Auntie and her admirers.”
“How big is our star’s dressing room?”
“Not that big, and she has to share it with Susannah. Maybe we should go to the lounge for a glass of wine.”
“Not a bad idea.”
“I’ll text Betty not to let Aunt Amelia leave before we see her.”
* * * *
In the lounge, Ryan brought her a glass of rosé and sat next to her on a red velvet settee. Aunt Amelia and her boyfriend-owner Ziggy had decorated the theater’s lobby in 1930s deco style, using some items stored at the Indialantic. Scattered on the walls were posters of past plays. All had Amelia Eden Holt playing one part or the other. The poster for The Sea Witch not only had her name listed at the top of the cast, but also as the playwright. Raising her glass, Liz said, “Here’s to Auntie.”
“And, here’s to keeping the drama on stage, not at the Indialantic,” Ryan answered.
“I’ll toast to that.” She looked at the pale pink liquid in her glass and thought about what Dorian had told Aunt Amelia after visiting her son at the sheriff’s station. He admitted that after Wren fell off the cliff, he’d returned to the hotel, packed up her things, he stuck her ring in his pocket and it fell out during the séance, where Farrah found it. He’d stowed the Louis Vuitton bag with the open lock in the backseat of his car. Later, he dumped the bag in the trash container at the back of his restaurant.
“Okay,” Ryan said, standing, “Aunt Amelia’s dressing room should have thinned out by now.”
“Her plant! I left it under my seat in the theater. I got her a new orchid for her collection.”
“Speaking of orchids. Charlotte did find Wren’s fingerprints in the orchid house and traces of oleander. Looks like I might have to give you part of my retainer from the sheriff’s department.”
“Sounds good, partner. Maybe I should get a P.I. license too.”
“Might as well have Betty get one also,” he said. “You can get a group rate.”
“The three detectiveteers! All for one, and one for all.”