Dead for the Show by Peg Herring

Author:Peg Herring
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, light paranormal, theater, Afterlife, crime and suspense
Publisher: Gwendolyn Books
Published: 2017-06-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Once again Seamus was disgusted with himself for not jumping when the chance came. He’d stayed with Albert Marle, figuring that if anything was amiss with the running of the theatre, he’d learn about it from the director. But Marle spent the morning away from the Vic, meeting producers, sponsors, promoters, and more. By the time he was finished, Seamus was heartily sick of the business end of things. Who knew there was so much to dressing up and pretending to be someone else? Other than the fact that the place ran on a shoestring, he found nothing suspicious or even very interesting.

When Marle returned to the theatre, it was time for rehearsals for Definitely Dickens. Actors milled around, waiting, dressed in casual clothes that allowed free movement and self-expression. Seamus saw Kim and Amy whispering in a corner and felt Albert’s flash of irritation as he saw Henry Spellman chatting with an admiring group of dancers. Jealous, Seamus figured. The old lion needed the young one, but he didn’t have to like him. Spellman was all Marle must once have been and more, since he had the stature of a leading man and didn’t need lifts in his shoes and a padded jacket.

“Are we going to start soon, Albert?”

The voice at his elbow caused another stab of irritation. Turning, Marle faced his leading actress. “Soon, Tarcie.” Due to his small stature, they were eye to eye, but he avoided her gaze, looking around instead. “Everyone seems to be here.”

“Would you like me to get them onstage?”

Seamus heard in his thought something about the softness of her face and the hard-as-nails personality it disguised. Forcing a pleasant tone, he put a hand on Tarcie’s arm. “No, thank you, my dear. Neen will be ready shortly.”

Tarcie was clearly disappointed she wouldn’t be allowed to order the cast around. She can hardly bear it, Seamus heard in Marle’s head. So anxious to take my place.

“Albert,” Tarcie’s tone might have been playful if there hadn’t been reproach in it somewhere. “You weren’t, um, doing anything with Cassie Parker, were you?”

Spine stiffening, Marle forced his initial retort back and simply said, “No, Tarcie. She was our wardrobe mistress. That’s all.”

Tarcie straightened his collar, which was in no need of attention. “And this new one, Christy? I don’t mean to pry, honestly. I just don’t want—”

She stopped, and Marle finished for her. “You don’t want me to make a fool of myself with a young woman in my employ.”

“You’re not a fool, Albert,” Tarcie assured him in a throaty purr. “Just too trusting sometimes.” Checking to see that no one was looking, she kissed her index finger and then placed it on his cheek. “I’m only watching out for you, you know.”

“I know.” But as Tarcie walked away, Marle’s thought added, And for yourself.

After rehearsal, Seamus jumped to Donna, with whom he was comfortable. Her outlook on the world was pragmatic, but she was not a grumpy person, which was how he liked to see himself.

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