“Chase isn’t here to cause trouble,” Odelia said. She didn’t much care for her co-star. Apart from his garlic antics, he was arrogant and not much fun to be around. And he had a habit of sticking his tongue down her throat, even though it wasn’t part of the script.
Chase had joined them and gave Odelia a quick peck on the lips.“Hey, babe,” he said in that low rumbling voice of his. He held out a hand to shake Don’s, but the actor simply ignored him and walked away, a dirty look on his otherwise handsome face.
“See ya around, Poole,” Don muttered, and was off.
Chase retracted the hand.“What was that all about?”
“Oh, nothing. Don has this thing about the boyfriends of his leading ladies.”
Chase quirked an eyebrow.“A thing? What thing?”
“He was once on the receiving end of a punch thrown by an actress’s spouse. His nose has never been the same.”
“He must have given him reason,” said Chase, looking on as Don made his way over to the makeup table for a touch-up and a flirtatious chat with the makeup ladies.
“I’d say he did,” said Odelia. “Don Stryker has a reputation as a ladies’ man, and he likes to make sure that reputation stays earned.”
Chase quirked his other eyebrow.“Should I worry about this Stryker guy?”
She smiled.“No, of course not.” She draped her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss. “Nothing to worry about at all.”
“That’s more like it,” he rumbled, then lifted her up into a full-body hug. If Don was watching, the hug might be interpreted as a gesture of possessiveness but Odelia didn’t care. There was only one man in her life and that was Chase, and no arrogant Broadway star could change that.
“So I was thinking,” said Chase now.
“Yes?”
“I was thinking we haven’t gone out on a date in a while—just you and me.”
She liked where this was going.“So what do you suggest?”
“I suggest dinner and a movie? There’s a new place in Happy Bays we haven’t tried. It’s called The Dusty Tavern and they’re rumored to serve some damn fine clam chowder.”
“The Dusty Tavern it is, then.”
“I have some stuff to finish up at the precinct. Pick you up at the house at seven?”
“Sounds great. See you later, Chase.”
“See you, babe,” he said with a happy grin, then was off, but not before giving Don the kind of look that would remind him of the punch that had given his nose that tweak.
Odelia sank down on the blanket and took the script she’d tucked underneath the basket and opened it to a well-thumbed page. This was the first time she was playing a part in a play, or any performance, for that matter. She had no acting experience whatsoever, but she didn’t mind. It wasn’t as if this production would be seen by more than a few people.
Bard in the Park was a strictly local setup, designed to entertain natives and tourists alike. Not exactly the start of a great career in acting. More like a fun way to while away the time and do something different for a change. Also, Dan Goory, her editor at the Hampton Cove Gazette, had instructed her to write a piece on the acting troupe, and the recurrent phenomenon of summer public theater, and what better way to write about Shakespeare in the Park than to immerse herself in its world and even play a small part?
She frowned as she read through her lines. The hardest part about this acting thing was memorizing those big chunks of text. She was constantly in fear she would drop a line and get absolutely, completely stuck, with people all staring at her. Which was why she was determined to study hard and nail her dialogues until she could recite them in her sleep.
And she was still muttering William Shakespeare’s memorable and immemorial lines to herself when a loud scream suddenly pierced the air. She looked up, startled, and was even more surprised when she saw a small group of people standing around nearby, the director and some of the other troupe members among them.
She got up and hurried over, afraid someone had become unwell and had collapsed.
When she reached the small throng Wolf Langdon, his face white as a sheet, was already clutching his phone to his ear and barking,“She’s dead. She’s dead, I’m telling you!”
Finally Odelia reached the commotion. On the ground, her face frozen in a mask of shock, a young woman lay motionless, her eyes staring unseeingly up at the people all crowding around her. It wasn’t hard to figure out she was, indeed, dead, what with the big knife sticking out of her chest. Odelia recognized her as Dany Cooper. Her understudy.
Chapter 4
“So… I don’t get it,” said Dooley once I’d explained to him and Harriet why Odelia had been kissing this man.
Harriet rolled her eyes, but I cut in before she could launch a scathing comment.“What don’t you get, Dooley?”
“So it’s all right for humans to cheat on their significant others when the person they’re cheating with is an actor? Is that how it works?”
“Oh, Dooley,” said Harriet, unable to contain herself. “They weren’t really kissing. They were acting!”
“It looked like they were kissing to me,” said Dooley.
It looked like that to me, too.“They were only pretending to be kissing,” I said. “None of it is real. Like inGame of Thrones? When they cut off people’s heads, the way they do on that show, the actors still get to walk away when the scene is over. Heads attached.”
“Yes, but Odelia has to lock lips with this guy, right?”
“Right,” I admitted.
“I mean, it’s not CGI like inGame of Thrones. It’s her actual lips on this guy’s actual lips. And they’re actually kissing. Swapping bodily fluids and rubbing tongues and all that.”
“You don’t have to be so graphic about it,” I grumbled.
“No, but I’m right, right?”
“I guess so.”
“So what’s the difference between a movie kiss and a real kiss?”
Tough question.“Well, for one thing, a real kiss has emotion. Humans kiss each other because they love each other—like Odelia and Chase. This guy, that’s not real.”
“It looked real to me.”
“Yes, well, it’s not,” said Harriet snappishly. “So just drop it, will you?” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’ve wasted my time on this nonsense. And I still haven’t been able to find Brutus, the reason I came to the park in the first place.”
We all looked around, as if fully expecting Brutus to suddenly pop up from behind a bush or a tree.
“I don’t know,” said Harriet. “I haven’t seen him all day. It’s not like him to go off without a word.”
“Why don’t we ask that nice dog over there to sniff him out?” Dooley suggested.
“That nice dog just threatened me,” I said. “So he’s not a nice dog at all.”
“But he is a dog, and dogs are known for their ability to find missing persons—and cats.”
We all turned to Scoochie. Dooley wasn’t the smartest cat in the world, but even not-so-smart cats get these sudden flashes of insight. Maybe now was Dooley’s turn for a flash.
“Are you nuts?” Harriet asked suddenly. “Why ask a dog to do a cat’s job? Our sense of smell is superior to that of a dog—didn’t you know that?”
“Um…” said Dooley, blinking.
“We have 200 million receptors in our noses, far more than any dog.” She tapped Dooley’s nose. “So repeat after me. We don’t need dogs. To suggest we do is ridiculous.”
“We don’t need dogs,” Dooley muttered meekly.
“We don’t need dogs,” I echoed.
“But if that’s true, why haven’t you been able to track down Brutus?” asked Dooley now, risking hide and hair to point out the fatal flaw in Harriet’s reasoning.