Murder at the Royal Ruby (Obsession collection) by Nita Prose

Author:Nita Prose [Prose, Nita]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Amazon Original Stories
Published: 2023-07-24T23:00:00+00:00

I leave Scooter in the dark catwalks and circle back downstairs, through the elegant lobby and into the bowels of the theater—the backstage labyrinth that includes the greenroom, the actors’ dressing rooms, the props room, and more. No velvet curtains or fine brass details here, just concrete blocks and harsh fluorescent lights.

I spot Stuart, the props manager, in his massive storeroom. He’s surrounded by costumed mannequins, fog machines, and trick candelabras that burst into six-inch flames. I’ve always liked Stuart. Since my very first day as an usher, he’s treated me like I’m a somebody, like I matter. I once asked if he thought I stood a chance of becoming an actor. I pointed at my birthmark to make sure he knew what I meant.

“Honestly? I don’t even see it anymore. A woman like Vanessa is supposed to be beautiful, but she’s so mean she looks ugly to me. Whereas you . . .”

He trailed off then, but that’s okay. The best lines are often left unsaid.

“Grace!” Stuart calls out the second he spots me in the corridor. “Come here. I need your help.”

I walk into the room where he’s working on a candelabra, recalibrating the intricate machinery that allows for pyrotechnic bursts in the banquet scene.

“Hold this,” he says as he guides my hand to a lever, then tinkers with some mechanism hidden deep in the candelabra’s base. He smiles at me as his hands work by rote inside the machine. “Whatever happens today with Vanessa, I’ve got your back,” he says. “You know, I can’t prove it, but I’m pretty sure she messed with the pyrotechnics that burned me a couple of months back.”

This is a first. He’s never said anything like this before, and it sounds pretty crazy. “Why in the world would she do that?” I ask.

“Because I called her a diva. The day before I got burned, Vanessa had a problem with the gun in the show. It never went off, and the audience laughed at her. She blamed me, but it was her fault. She didn’t follow my instructions for loading. Then she said, ‘Props masters are really just wannabe engineers who couldn’t hack it.’ And I told her she was an ugly, stinking cow.” Stuart grabs a small wrench and torques something deep within the mechanism. “Not my most shining moment. I think she turned this candelabra on high after that show so it would burn me during my next preshow check. And lately, I’ve been thinking: What if I loaded the show’s Smith & Wesson with a real bullet instead of a fake? What if I forgot to apply fire retardant on her gaudy green gown and she immolated herself on this exact flame?”

“Stuart, don’t say things like that out loud. The ghost of the Royal Ruby might hear you and make it happen.”

“Good,” he replies. “I hope she does.” He puts down his wrench. “Okay, step back now and let go.”

I do as I’m told, retreating a few steps as I release the lever.

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