Chapter 20
TWENTY
It was nearly over. Thank God. I still had no idea who had poisoned Finn and Kathleen, but in less than sixty minutes that would be someone else’s problem. I mean, not that it was ever really my problem—other than avoiding being poisoned myself and making sure Louis didn’t get blamed for it.
While Eldridge and Louis began packing up, I went to the craft room and filled the coffee pot from the urn. I put sugar packets and creamers into my pockets, and grabbed a stack of Styrofoam cups. As I was about to leave, Louis popped in with a full tub.
I took the chance to ask, “Louis, did you notice anything weird about the green goop?”
“Other than the fact that it’s green goop?”
“Yes, Louis, other than that.”
“No. It looked like what it’s supposed to be. You know, diced up mushy greens. Why?”
“I don’t know. There’s just… something. Something nagging at me. Probably nothing.”
“Part of the point of poisoning is to make sure it goes unnoticed.”
“Yeah. I’m probably just tired.”
“Aren’t we all.”
I left the craft room and walked past the Durante room; the one Ricky had been using. He wasn’t in there, but it was a mess. There were several shirts laid out over the chairs, moisturizers, bronzers and concealer on the makeup table, and an open gym bag on the floor. So I had to look inside, right? It was practically screaming at me.
The bag was almost empty. There was a pair of men’s briefs—extremely brief. So brief I wondered how they held his impressive… Yes, I’ve seen the video. Anyway. They must be a backup pair, though why he thought he might need extra underwear… Then I noticed a folded piece of paper. I picked up the paper and unfolded it. It was an email from Wendy. The one with the list of who was having which drink.
Email was not a forte of mine. Sure, we had a Prodigy account, but Mikey took care of that. He promised me it would be useful someday, though I didn’t really believe him. All of which meant it took me a moment to understand what I was looking at. The ‘To:’ line at the top of the page said ‘[email protected]’. That must be Ricky’s email address. The ‘From:’ line said ‘[email protected]’. That had to be Wendy. This was the email Louis told me about. In the ‘cc:’ line there was a string of email addresses, most of which looked like gobbledygook to me. But it could tell me who got the list even though I’d have to spend some time puzzling out whose address was whose. In the message field was a list of the cast and which drinks they’d be having.
Quickly scanning the list, I saw that all of the drinks were the ones Louis had been asked to make for the cast. Except that Kathleen was originally supposed to have a Green Goddess. Wendy had tried to change her drink, but Kathleen herself had changed it back. If one of the email addresses was Kathleen’s, she’d come expecting a Green Goddess. Wendy tried to substitute a Blue Moon. Why? Was Wendy behind the poisoning? Or had she just figured out what was happening before the rest of us? But if she had figured it out, why did she let Kathleen switch?
I folded up the email and put it into my pocket, then left the dressing room. I knocked on the Zola Emory dressing room’s door, but didn’t wait for an answer. I just walked in.
What I found inside was frightening. Amber sat with the dead man. She was chatting with him again, this time in a much friendlier manner. Giggling as though he’d just said something funny, she stopped and looked up at me. Her eyes seemed to register just beyond sanity. Now, I know various religions and cultures have traditions of sitting with corpses, sometimes even for long periods of time, supposedly granting them peace of mind. But looking at Amber I’d have to argue against that explanation. I can’t say it looked like it was bringing her much peace.
My mother had chosen a closed casket for my father’s funeral. Not because he looked bad, but as my mother said, “It’s bad enough he’s dead. I don’t want to rub people’s noses in it.” And Jeffer—well, in the few days between his death and his funeral, his family had turned completely against me and I was barred from attending. I have no idea if his casket was opened or closed. I’d have voted for closed.
“Should you be sitting in here?” I asked, in as kind a voice as I could muster. “You don’t look well.”
She just sat there, mumbling to Finn. His skin had taken on a very unnatural tone and looked remarkably waxy. I wasn’t sure if he had a figure in Madame Tussauds Museum, but if he did, whatever resemblance was there before would now be more pronounced.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” I asked because, after all, that was why I was there.
“When are you going to sign an NDA for me?”
“I’m not.”
“Then get out.”
I stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind me. I have to say Amber wasn’t doing well. Accidentally killing a movie star was apparently bad for one’s health. Passing the office, I walked back out to the stage. Marc was sitting in the risers with Grace, Keely and Meg.
“Do you remember that grip from the show?” Keely was saying. “One of the union guys… Oh gosh, what was his name?”
“His name was Teddy,” Meg said.
“Yes! It was. He was fine like wine.”
“Do you know what happened to him?” Marc asked.
“Don’t you remember? Donald fired him halfway through the second season. Well, he tried to. The union wouldn’t let him, so he got paid for the rest of the season even though he didn’t come to the set anymore.”
“Would any of you like one last hit of coffee?” I asked.
Meg raised her cup. I filled it.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Keely said. “I don’t want it to keep me awake. I can’t wait to get into bed.”
I was about to walk away when I thought to ask, “Marc, what about the guard? When his name came up about the stunts you said, ‘don’t ask.’ What are we not supposed to ask?”
“I meant, don’t ask about the stunts. They were really lame. We’d ride a bike and do wheelies. That kind of ‘stunt.’ Mostly Alan was on set because his mother was Wendy’s best friend.”
“Oh God, yes,” Keely said. “Alan… He was not fine like wine. Actually, he was always really creepy. I didn’t even recognize him.”
“Me either,” Meg said.
“So… he knows Donald and Wendy pretty well?” I said.
“Yeah, he probably does.” Marc looked at me suspiciously. “You think he has something to do with all this?”
“We know he jammed the doors,” I said. “He could easily have also cut the phone line and disabled the fire alarm before we got here.”
“But why?” Meg asked. “Why would he poison Finn and Kathleen?”
“Did they have any bad blood during the show?” I asked.
“Not that I remember.”
Marc said, “Plus, it was fifteen years ago. It would have to be pretty bad blood for him to still be mad about it.”
“Why do you think he’s not working at a Juicy Juice?” I wondered.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, they gave him a job on the show fifteen years ago. Wouldn’t working at a Juicy Juice like Ed, wouldn’t that be a better job than security guard?”
“If he wanted to work at a Juicy Juice and they said no he’d have a motive,” Keely said.
“To poison them ,” Marc pointed out. “Not Finn and Kathleen.”
“But if it was actually Amber’s shot that killed Finn…” I suggested. “Maybe the point was just to make them sick and ruin the shoot, causing some bad publicity for Juicy Juice.”
“Wow, weird thought,” Meg said. “If that is what’s going on, then Alan has no idea Finn is dead. He’s just sitting out there waiting for morning.”
“Of course, that’s the problem with this theory,” I said. “Alan is cut off from us. If he was only trying to make Finn sick, wouldn’t he want an ambulance and paparazzi here to make sure it all got in the newspaper? What would be the point of keeping us locked in all night?”
“You’d think if it was him,” Meg said, “he’d have come to check on us?”
“I know, right? He’d have probably checked on us at least every two hours. He hasn’t checked on us at all. It’s possible Donald was telling the truth when he said Alan was afraid of losing his job if the other guard found out.”
Then Donald was behind me saying, “Are you pouring coffee or are you just gossiping?”
“Oh, sorry,” I said, turning to see if he had a cup. He didn’t. I offered him one, which he took, and then I poured him coffee. “Do you like cream or sugar?”
“Both please.”
I put the cups in the crook of my arm and pulled sugar packets and creamers out of my pocket. He had his Juicy Juice in his free hand, which he held out to me. “Can you get rid of this?”
I was already doing a juggling act.
“If you’ll set it down, I’ll get rid of it in a minute.” I was tempted to add that I was not an octopus.
“I can’t begin to tell you how tired I am of fruit smoothies,” he said in a way that was meant to be friendly but failed. “Having them every day ruins them for you.”
“I bet,” I said, because I think he expected something like that.
Then he said, “Thank you for everything you’ve done, Niles.” After patting my upper arm, he walked away. I glanced over at Eldridge and pulled a face. Really? Niles? Then, unfortunately, I had to follow Donald.
I asked Wendy, “Would you like a coffee?”
“No, thank you.”
I raised my eyebrows in a question to Ed.
“Yeah, I’ll have a cup,” he said.
I poured the coffee and asked, “Cream and sugar?”
Thankfully, he took his coffee black.
I noticed Louis at the craft table. He was holding out a Juicy Juice for Eldridge. There was another in his hand. When I got there, he offered it to me and said, “I made you a smoothie.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure I want that.” For one, they were disgusting. For two, there was the whole issue of poisoning—though reasonably I didn’t think that was a possibility. But why be reasonable?
“Don’t worry, it’s not one of their recipes.”
“Oh.”
I set the coffee pot and cups down on the table and took the drink. Eldridge was drinking his. If they were poisoned, I couldn’t let him be poisoned alone, could I? From the first sip it was delicious. Chocolaty and fruity at the same time.
“What did you put in here?”
“Chocolate covered strawberries, raspberries, coconut milk, half a banana, M&Ms. Absolutely no secret anything.”
“It’s really good.” I took a good long sip, then asked, “Are you ready to finish packing up?”
“You know, I just realized that’s probably not a good idea.”
“It’s not a good idea to pack up? We’re leaving soon.”
“We’re probably not leaving, though.”
“What do you mean?”
Not leaving? That was a terrible thought. I was looking forward to getting into my bed. Did he think we weren’t being allowed out of here?
“We’re going to call the police and then we’ll be here for hours being interviewed. And we shouldn’t pack up because all this is evidence.”
“Oh crap, it is, isn’t it.” Then I asked, “Do you think there might be fingerprints somewhere belonging to the someone who shouldn’t have left fingerprints?”
“It’s possible.”
“We probably shouldn’t have touched anything,” Eldridge said.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m realizing,” Louis said. “Well, too late now.”
“Then what should we do?” I asked.
“We have less than an hour to solve this,” he said ominously.
“Oh, I don’t… Can’t we leave it to the police? Just this once,” I begged.
“We could, but where’s the fun in that?”
“I really have no idea who might have poisoned the green goop.”
“Could everyone come on to the stage,” Louis called out. “Everyone.” I nearly choked on my smoothie when he added, “Noah has a few questions, and then he’s going to tell us all who poisoned Finn and Kathleen.”
“What?! I don’t know who did it!”
“I think you do.”