To Becca’s credit, she stuttered only once in response, and had the stage all ready to go. Any more arguments were forestalled until the next break.
Casey worked through her scenes, pleasantly surprised at Lonnie’s talent, especially since he was playing her character’s brother, Sebastian. She found herself a bit shy when on stage with Eric, and tried to avoid him between scenes. If Lonnie was right about Eric, she’d have to watch her step. The last thing Eric needed was for her to crush his feelings, no matter how misplaced they were. Besides that, she didn’t need any more of Leila’s wrath to come her way.
Holly made her grand entrance about a half hour late, but they barely noted her arrival. She sat sulking in the seats until Becca called her, and even then she needed some extra coaxing to get on stage.
They stumbled through several scenes before break, and Casey escaped to the bathroom, where she stayed until Becca called them back.
“You okay?” Eric joined her, several rows back from the stage.
She didn’t look at him. “I’m fine. Thanks.”
She was spared further conversation by being summoned to the stage, where Thomas kept her busy every moment. When the end of rehearsal finally arrived she cast about for thoughts of how she might get out of walking home with Eric.
“Casey!”
She stopped in her tracks, as did the rest of the actors.
“Everyone else,” Thomas said. “Shoo!”
Shoo? Casey smothered a laugh, albeit a nervous one.
Eric hesitated mid-aisle, and Leila ran into him.
“Go ahead,” Casey said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I can wait.”
“Really. No reason for you to wait. I’ll be fine.”
His face set into stubborn lines, and he went out the doors, Leila on his heels. Casey sighed, figuring he’d be outside when she was done, although maybe Leila could convince him to go out for that drink he’d promised her. She turned back to Thomas, who sat in his seat, tapping his pencil on his closed script. She glanced up at the darkened stage, wondering if they actually were alone, but got no sense that Taffy and Bone were anywhere in the building.
She looked back at Thomas, but stayed facing the stage. “Yes, Thomas?”
He didn’t stop the pencil, and looked steadily forward. “Casey, I want to know who you are.”
She stood still, the rhythm of the pencil almost hypnotic. “Who I—”
“Your real last name, for one thing.” He grabbed the pencil, stopping it, and looked over at her.
“I told you. It’s Smith.”
He stared at her, unblinking. “You’re going to stick with that, are you?”
“Yes.” Her body began its defensive routine of relaxing muscles and deeper breathing. The aisle was on an incline, which could be tricky, but she could compensate. If Thomas came after her, he’d be down in an instant. He didn’t have a clue.
“Then how about where you came from? Let’s start with that.”
She looked at him. “West.”
“West. I see. And that would be west as in Iowa, or maybe California? Or perhaps you’re thinking the Wild West, in which you are the female version of the Lone Ranger?”
“Just west.”
“Ah.” He looked down at his script again, laying his hand flat on it, studying his fingers, or perhaps the ring on the fourth one. “Is there a reason you don’t want people to know?”
“Is there a reason you need to?”
He was quiet for a moment, looking at his hand, which he brought up to brush over his face. Then he stood, slowly turning toward her and stepping out into the aisle. Casey took a deep breath through her nose.
“I don’t know who you are,” he said. “Whether you’re coming from Hollywood or Broadway, or…other places…because obviously your career—or part of it—has been this one we share.” His voice was low. Even. “But I’m telling you now. If you’re here to cause trouble for me, it’s going to be bad for you.” He watched her. “Do you understand?”
“What kind of trouble do you think I’m here to cause?”
His eye twitched. “If you don’t know, I’m certainly not going to tell you, am I?” He took a step toward her. “But I am going to tell you this. What you’re up to…I’m onto you. I know what you’re doing. And when I catch you at it…” His lip rose, and Casey flexed her fingers, ready. But when he moved, it was toward the stage, backing up, still facing her.
“You can go,” he said. “And when you do, you tell your friends this. Thomas Black is not afraid of them. And if they think sending a…a scrawny little woman to do their dirty work is going to change things, they can think again. I’m doing the best I can, and when I have what they want, I’ll get it to them. It should be soon. You tell them that.”
Casey stared at him.
“Go on. Give them the news. I’m sure they’ll be glad to hear it.”
Casey watched him for a moment longer before turning and making her way up the aisle, feeling his eyes on her back with every silent step, ready to turn should he come after her. She went out the double doors and stepped to the side, leaning back on the wall. Out the front door she could see Eric, waiting for her on the bench. Leila was nowhere in sight.
Obviously Thomas was in something over his head. The men expected something from him, and from what she’d heard, it was most likely money. It could’ve been something else, drugs, maybe. But she’d put her money on cash. Did Thomas think she was in league with Taffy and Bone? Or some other entity? Another group of bad guys. Or law enforcement.
She stepped back to the double doors, putting her eye to the crack between them.
Thomas stood with his back to her, hands flat on the stage, his head lowered. As she watched he pushed himself up, ran his hands through his hair, and turned around, straightening his shoulders and grabbing his briefcase before making his way up the aisle.
Casey quickly walked out the front door, attempting a smile as Eric stood to meet her.
“What did he want?”
Casey hesitated. Should she tell him about the two men? Did he already know about them? Or should she let Thomas deal with his own problems without making Eric feel more involved, or even responsible?
“Oh, nothing much.” Casey looked up at the sky, clear that night. “He just wanted to talk about how he perceives my role.”
Eric gave her a questioning look, but didn’t push it.
“Where’s Leila?”
He shrugged. “Gone. You still want to walk home alone?”
She jerked her thumb to the right. “My place is this way, and your car is the other. I’ll be fine.”
“If you’re sure.”
She glanced back at the theater, where Thomas remained, probably watching her through the large windows. She repressed a shiver.
“I’m sure,” she said. “You go on home.”
Eric nodded, his eyes darting toward the theater. “All right. You’d let me know if…”
“I’m fine, Eric. He just wanted to talk about…things.”
He looked at her for a long moment, then stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked away. “All right. Goodnight then, Casey.”
“Goodnight, Eric.”
He strode away, head bent, back arched.
Casey turned and walked as quickly as she could in the opposite direction.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rosemary and Lillian were still sitting on the porch when Casey got to The Nesting Place. They must have moved at some point since the afternoon, because Rosemary was now in her normal clothes—if a bright purple velour tracksuit with rhinestones could be called normal—instead of her Dobak. Her phone was at her ear. “Yes, dear, she’s home now. Safe and sound. All right. Goodnight, sweetheart.”
Casey gestured at the phone. “Eric?”
“He just wanted to be sure…”
Casey shook her head and turned, looking out at the street over the railing of the porch. “He didn’t have to worry.”
“I know that. You have no trouble taking care of yourself.”
Something in her voice made Casey turn. Rosemary had reached across to Lillian’s chair and grabbed her hand, and their hands hung there now, suspended between them.