Chapter 7-2
515 Words
It took some doing, but Perrin found their way backstage after the opera. There was a maze of beautifully carpeted corridors and unmarked doors that led to strange linoleum hallways that seemed to lead nowhere. The soft indirect lighting giving way to harsh fluorescents, which meant they were on the right track. Or that they were hopelessly lost and someone would have to send in a search and rescue team after them.
Racks of clothes lined one side of the white linoleum hallway, and a line of doors along the opposite wall led to small dressing rooms. As they moved along the hall, the costumes became fancier and so did the dressing rooms. She and Cassidy peeked in one that wasn’t occupied at the moment. It had a piano in the corner, an upright, in beautiful condition.
“Must be what they use to warm up their voices before they go onstage.”
Then the costumes ended, and a line of cramped offices appeared along the right-hand wall.
“Hey,” Cassidy pointed at a sign on an open door. “You said Bill was the Stage Manager.”
Perrin grabbed her hand and dragged her in. “Let’s go peek.”
It was big enough for a desk, three chairs, and a long whiteboard which was covered in incomprehensible hieroglyphics. “LR#1 blwn gel fres #4. Orch-slo III.2 4st. Strk-7a call,” and dozens of other notations that must mean something to Bill, because they certainly meant nothing to her.
“His desk is awfully neat. Do we trust a man who has such a neat desk?” Cassidy leaned forward to look at a small framed photograph.
“I wish I’d brought some really red lipstick. I need to leave a really blatant lip print here somewhere.”
“Perrin,” Cassidy’s tone brought her up short.
“What?”
Cassidy pointed to the picture of two giggling children.
“That’s Jaspar and Tamara. What does that have to do with lipstic—Oh crap! This is so hard, Cass. I don’t know if I can do this.” Of course his kids would be as likely to be here as at the Opera offices. Finding a red-lipstick print from their dad’s girlfriend would be way worse than inappropriate. It would be— “I’m such an i***t. I’m just gonna screw this up so bad. Cass, you have to tell me what to do. You’re the smart one.”
“Actually, it was Jo who was valedictorian at college. And personally I think that you got that ‘C’ in PE just so that Jo would get the honor instead of you. Remember, I saw your GRE scores in case you went to grad school and I know neither of us came close to matching yours. How did you arrange to get a ‘C’ in a field hockey PE class anyway?”
“Remember Ms. Kennelly?”
“Stick-in-the-Mud Kennelly? Sure.”
“I made a pass at her. She was totally freaked. But after that she didn’t dare flunk me the last semester Senior year, despite my never attending another class. Probably too afraid I’d wind up back in one of her classes. It worked great, but don’t tell Jo.”
Cassidy crossed her heart like the true friend she was.
Perrin heard a voice rumbling out in corridor, placating one person while handing out instructions to another. And his voice sounded as if he’d just finished ripping someone a new one.
“That’s him,” she tried not to go all weak in the knees.
- Writer
