Scarecrow’s Dream (21 page)

Angela said, “That’s nice. Helping the vets, I mean. Not the war.”

Chandra shrugged. “Whatever. Just get this damn script done by next year so we can get on with the production. We’ve already missed any chance of nominations this year. Kind of hard to win an award when there’s no show to perform. Is it true all the backers quit?”

Rob was past pale. I knew how much he wanted to protect me from anyone learning I was more than his supportive shoulder. “It’s true. In all honestly, I doubt I’ll ever finish the script.
Trapped in the Basement
may not be meant to be performed.”

Angela waved bye and headed for their booth. Chandra stayed one more minute. “I’m not stupid. I’m well aware you weren’t chatting about veterans’ picnics or protestors. If
Basement
ever
is
finished, I’m pretty damned sure the script will have two names on it, and one of them will be Holly Malone, Shane’s little groupie.”

April 14, 2016

I’d considered lunging for Chandra’s throat after she’d said, “It’s me,” but I’d had a feeling she wasn’t confessing to pushing Rob over the rail or shooting me off Shane’s motorcycle. After my return from the past, with her voice still ringing in my head, I was sure.

Wynn, Derek, and Rick stared at Chandra as if she were a pet rattlesnake who’d just bitten its owner.

After a moment of silence, all three men began an interrogation, but it wasn’t going anywhere. They interrupted one another, words tumbling out in a cacophony of nonsense. Then Shane’s voice, coming through the speaker, calmed everyone down enough for Chandra to be able to answer. “Chandra. I’m assuming you’re not confessing to killing Rob and Holly?”

She cried out, “No! I never…! Shane, please say you believe me.”

Shane took a beat before answering, “I believe you. So look, everyone, just settle, and Chandra, tell us all what the hell you meant by ‘It’s me.’”

Chandra swallowed hard. “A few days before Rob died—or if you’re right and was murdered—I ran into him here. He and Holly had their heads together and it seemed obvious to me they were collaborating on
Basement
, even though the show was on permanent hold. They denied it but neither was a very good liar. Angela was with me. We started talking about the play later and I made some smart-ass comment about how nice it would be for our two leading hippie protestors once they finished the script and were given their award as co-writers.” Chandra addressed Derek. “You really didn’t know Rob and Holly were working on it together?”

He shook his head. “No. I had no idea. Angela never…”

Shane interrupted. “I’m the only one Rob trusted regarding Holly and the script. He was scared if anyone found out she’d be in danger.” His tone turned bitter. “He was right.”

Derek picked up the phone and told Shane he was heading to a quieter spot. Chandra, Wynn, and Rick remained in the booth, motionless and silent. I followed Derek outside.

“Shane. Angela and I filed for divorce a month after you disappeared. She changed so much over that spring. It was like she was a totally different woman.”

Shane said, “She was never in a VA hospital, was she? A nurse? I don’t remember.”

Derek answered, “No. But her brother was. Captain Larry Olson. Decorated hero…and POW.” Derek’s voice shook. “With what Chandra just said…well, it seems ridiculous and yet obvious now. And so very ‘New York is really a small town.’ Six degrees of everyone in theatre. Damn! Good ol’ Larry lucked out that I was in love with his sister who tells her twin all there is to know about her new husband’s play. Is there the slightest possibility she’s innocent in all this?” His voice caught. “Okay. I can’t dwell on that now. So, fast forward and Rob gets mugged on his way to rehearsal.”

Shane said, “And Olson moves on to murder. He must have realized stealing the script wouldn’t stop Rob from finishing the play, and once it was up and running if people started asking questions, everyone in New York would discover that Larry Olson was Captain Hemming. Traitor. Killer.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“What the hell do we do now?” Derek asked Shane.

“Go back inside and give me a minute or two. I’ll call you back.”

I followed Derek back inside, and found a spot near the restrooms where I could talk without being overheard. I quickly punched in the numbers to Shane’s second cell.

“Holly, I guess you heard everything?”

“And more.”

“Meaning?”

“I had a flashback. Chandra caught part of a conversation I had with Rob about the play. She told Angela she was sure I was co-author. Chandra assumed Derek must have known and already shared the info with his loving wife. Chandra never thought there was a big deal about who was writing the darn thing—she just liked to gossip. Shane, this was only a day before Rob got tossed off the catwalk.”

“And Derek never had a clue, poor devil,” Shane muttered. “Do you suppose Angela is aware her brother is a murdering snake?”

“That answer is still up in the air. Shane, this could kick us into Plan C.”

“Straight past B?” He laughed, but there was bitterness to the sound. “And C is…?”

“No clue. Look, let me eavesdrop some more. Meantime you need to persuade those people to go into hiding.”

“You agree they’re in danger, then?”

“If they weren’t before, they are now. If Larry learns you talked to them he’ll assume the worst about what was said. It all depends on how good Larry Olson’s little spying operation is.” I stopped as a thought suddenly hit. “Shane? When you looked him up you found that he’s the CEO of some corporation. What’s the company?”

“Hang on. This phone isn’t quite as nifty or fast with searches but…”

I waited. It didn’t take long.

“Oh man. Holly, are you sitting down?”

“Does it matter?”

“Only if you don’t want to faint. He’s a defense contractor. And I’m not talking about some piddling little security firm outside of Podunk, Wherever. This looks huge. I’d say Olsen has a pile of money and easy access to information on about half the planet. And, the big problem is his crimes are kind of a wash without more substantial proof. He’s not someone you can take down without serious evidence.”

“Oh crap!”

“What?”

“Substantial. In that flashback, Rob told me he was going to mail me the proof. But did he? Or is something still sitting around the Stutzgraft apartment?”

Shane said, “I’ll call Frannie. Tell her about Olsen, too. You go listen in on our quartet and then I’ll give them another call and warn them they’re all in danger.”

“Will do. Then you call me and we’ll try to put pieces together.” I remarked with mild seriousness, “These calls are going to cost a fortune.”

Shane’s response held a wicked tone. “Don’t worry, darlin’, I got the special espionage-and-undercover-dude-roamin’ family plan.”

I laughed, quietly, which still felt good, and we hung up.

Chandra, Wynn, Rick, and Derek all looked a little shell-shocked. Derek had told them about Larry Olson and that Angela had either knowingly or accidentally given him the information that ultimately led to Rob’s death—and my own.

Rick growled, “So this SOB is killing people to protect his good name?”

Derek shook his head. “In a way. Olson is the chairman of the board and CEO of LMO. Ever heard of them?”

Rick’s right eyebrow rose to midforehead. “Not really.”

“Lawrence Madison Olson. They’re a monster-sized defense contractor, and Larry is co-founder and owner. Supposedly legit. And if word had gotten out forty years ago that he’d collaborated with the Viet Cong during the war, he would never have had the chance to head a billion-dollar company. If it got out now? He’d be ruined. Hopefully court-martialed if it could be proven.”

Chandra said, “I know very little about Larry, though Angela and I remained friends for years.” Her tone grew bitter. “Friends. Shit, I’ve been such a fool. Was she using me since day one? We only met after I got involved in the play. I’m amazed she didn’t break off communications once the play was scrapped for good and Rob was dead. Unless, she’s totally innocent in all this and was being manipulated by her brother? God, I hope so.”

Before anyone had a chance to respond, Chandra’s cell phone rang. Her eyes widened. She lifted up the phone so everyone could see the caller ID. Her expression hardened. “Well, speak of the devil.”

She signaled for everyone to be quiet and I was privileged to witness what I had to admit was a stellar performance by Ms. Chandra Petrie.

Chandra clicked the speaker-on button, and then sounded as perky as a teenage girl thanking Daddy for the use of his credit card without limits. “Angela! Hey, girl! I haven’t heard from you in ages. How’s it goin’?”

Angela responded, her own voice oozing with sweetness, “Chandra, I’m so sorry I haven’t called. Got super busy with a new project. I heard you were swamped as well with your soap. Congrats on the Emmy nod!”

“Thanks.”

Angela didn’t waste time on gossip, catching up, or discussions of weather, politics, or religion. She went right to the topic most important. “Hey? Did you by any chance see a copy of the
Voice
the other day?”

Chandra caught the inference right away—and judging by their expressions, so did Derek, Wynn, and Rick. But she was going to make Angela work for it. “No. I don’t have time to read much apart from my scripts. Plus, I’ve been out of town for the last week so I haven’t caught up on any Manhattan gossip. Why? Don’t tell me whatshisname skewered the new
Othello
down at the Public? I swear that guy hasn’t liked any version of Shakespeare he claims deviates from Will’s original since
West Side Story
. I don’t know why he’s considered the top reviewer in town.”

“No!” Angela was clearly agitated. “No! I’m not talking about the reviews. There was a photo from one of those protests the other day.”

“So?”

“Well, I could swear that one of the people in the photo was Shane Halloran. Remember him?”

A brief silence from Chandra and then she replied with a wistful tone of sad remembrance. “How could I forget? But unless ghosts show up in photos, there’s no way it’s Shane. I don’t remember him having a twin but they say everyone has a double.”

“Whatever. But this really looked like Shane. His body was never found, after all. What if he’s alive?”

“Girl, that only happens in soaps and a few prime time dramas. He’d have contacted someone if he were alive. At least gotten in touch with his agent. Unless Shane had amnesia—and we know
that
definitely only happens in soaps.” Chandra laughed. My admiration grew. The woman was good. “Shoot. I’ve been stricken with severe memory loss three times on
Passion’s Place
this year alone.”

Angela must have decided she wasn’t going to get anything from Chandra. She lacked the barest modicum of Chandra’s acting skills and was unable to hide her annoyance. “Well, I think it’s interesting anyway. Oh. My landline is ringing. Later.” She hung up.

Chandra stared at Wynn. “Five to one, you get a call in the next three minutes.”

Wynn’s phone rang. The caller ID was Angela’s number. “Crap!” He glanced at the others, almost frantically. “What do I do?”

“Let it go to voice mail,” Derek suggested. “And then, my friends, we may all want to ditch phones and head for hotels in Alaska. Or at least Chandra, Wynn, and I should. I doubt Angela or her brother remember Rick.” He gave a wry smile. “No offense. But I’m pretty sure you never met either of them.”

Rick’s voice was grim. “It may not matter. If what you and Shane said is true, it sounds like they’re methodically checking a list made up of whomever Halloran might be in contact with. Which would include every member of the cast still around.”

“Does everyone here believe Larry Olson is capable of tracking us down?” Wynn asked.

Derek and Chandra chorused, “Yes.”

Derek’s phone rang. Everyone tensed as he answered. He let out a sigh of relief. “It’s Shane.” He put him on speaker and then told him about Angela’s call.

Shane upped his volume so all at the table could hear. “I suggest disposable phones. Buy a bunch and give each other the numbers so everyone can stay in touch. Derek, you call me with those numbers so I’ll have a way to contact you. Then get out of town and use cash only wherever you go.”

Wynn asked, “Shane, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to prove Larry Olson is a traitor and a murderer. Then I’m going to destroy the effin’ sonovabitch.”

Shane hung up.

I followed four very frightened people out of the pub before sneaking into an empty basement stairwell and calling Shane back.

“Shane, they’ve gone off to buy the burner phones and hide. This is nuts. I’m talking nuts. But we know! Now we know.”

“True.” Shane groaned. “God, I hope they’ll be safe. I feel guilty already.”

“Hey, not your fault.” I told him about Angela calling Chandra, sniffing around to see if she had any information about Shane being alive, then Wynn getting a call within less than a minute. “She’d’ve been on the hunt no matter if you’d kept from contacting anyone. I’d say the question of her innocence in regards to her brother’s activities has now been settled. And honestly, this could have been far worse, because Chandra wouldn’t have realized Angela was pumping her for information. By getting everyone together you may have just saved four lives.” I could hear several people walking along the sidewalk so I let them pass before I said anything else. “Shane? What did Frannie say?”

“She’s agreed to lay low for a while. She remembered Rob mentioned he was going to send you a package, but she had no idea when or anything else about it. She didn’t find anything addressed to Holly Malone in their apartment so Rob probably mailed it to you before he died.”

“Hmm. Which means it was delivered to my dad’s place.”

“Do you have any recollection of receiving anything?”

“No. But then, I can’t summon memories on a whim, no matter how important. Plus, if Rob mailed it on the sixth then it wouldn’t have arrived until after I died…” I pondered the possibilities.

“Holly? You there?”

“Yeah. The proverbial light bulb just flashed on.”

“And?”

“And you and I need to make a trip to the storage facility Addie rents, the one housing the belongings of one Paul Malone.”

“Smart idea. So—when and where?”

Addie had told me where Paul had stored memorabilia, much of which had been my belongings. I gave Shane the address, which wasn’t far from Addie’s garage.

“Holly, how do we get in? Does she have a passcard?”

“Nah. This place is still very low tech. Addie had a key, and since she keeps all her keys and spares together on various rings, you have one duplicate set since you have the car.”

“Good. I’ll meet you there around nine?”

“Fine.”

Shane caught something in my tone. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s my opinion that a major confrontation is long overdue with good sister Angela and brother Larry. They’re both in damned dire need of a little payback from one
very
unfriendly ghost.”