Deadly Drama. Jody Holford
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set of the large black curtains currently tucked away with a thick…cord that didn’t match the red velvet ropes on the other side. She wondered, momentarily, if any sort of fund raising occurred to help the recreation center. They could probably use it. She’d have to ask Sam and Katherine.
Molly glanced to her right and saw that the auditorium was empty. Looking back at the stage, she was surprised to see the house that had been suspended from the ceiling resting in the middle of the set. Maybe they’d ended with that scene during their last rehearsal. Its door was propped open and it had been fully painted. The fact that it actually had a working door was one more nod to the effort people had put in to make this production a success. Molly wasn’t thinking much of anything when she heard the hitch of a breath. Looking from the empty theater seating to the stage again, she heard another sharp intake of breath. Trepidation zipped through her blood and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. Please don’t let me be interrupting something important. Molly wanted to start off on the right foot with the woman. She took quiet steps forward, brows scrunched at the sound of uneven breaths. Had she interrupted Magnolia crying? Molly hurried forward, moving around the open door of the hollow house.
A strange, strangled sound left Molly’s mouth and her hands flew to her face, slapping hard against her skin.
Judd, the custodian she’d met a few nights back, was leaning over Magnolia’s too-still body. Molly’s heart tried to beat out of her chest as she realized the house was sitting at a slight angle. Worse, she saw why. Magnolia’s feet were jutting out from the bottom of the house, the rest of her body inside. Molly saw her eyes were closed and her arms were bent, like she’d been holding them up by her head. Molly stepped back, shaking her head even as Judd started to rise, tears in his eyes, and she realized, with a tiny bit of physical distance, that if the door were shut, the only thing someone in the audience would see was a pair of boot-covered feet. It was a horrifying image of life imitating art, the house on top of the Wicked Witch of the East. Or, Britton Bay, in this case.
Molly had already pulled her phone from her pocket and started to dial 9-1-1 before her brain could catch up with her hand. Her foot nearly shot out from under her and when she glanced down, she saw she’d slipped in a puddle of brown liquid…coffee? She didn’t see a cup. Looking back up, the air froze in her lungs. Judd had moved quickly and was coming closer at an alarming speed as Molly continued to back away. She screamed even as the operator picked up.
Chapter Six
Judd gripped Molly’s wrist, his fingers digging into her skin with his hold. Her body jolted mid-fall and felt suspended for several seconds before he yanked her forward, away from the edge. The phone jostled against her ear.
“Ma’am? Can you tell me your name? Can you hear me?” The operator’s voice was steady and strong. Sobering.
Judd released her wrist, his face twisted with sadness. Tears welled in his dark eyes.
“We need ambulance and police at the rec center. There’s been a…a…” She stared at Judd and he waved her toward the body, shuffling closer.
“She was like this when I found her,” he said, his words wobbling. He stopped near Magnolia’s feet. “Don’t know that an ambulance will do her much good now. I checked her pulse.”
“Ma’am, are you in immediate danger? We’ve dispatched police,” the operator said.
“No. I, uh, there’s been an accident.”
Judd nodded his head and pulled a white handkerchief from the back pocket of his jeans, using it to wipe his brow and then his eyes.
“Police are on their way. Are you alone?”
“No.” She pulled in a deep breath. Her pulse settled to a simmer rather than a rapid boil. Judd stood near the body, pulling the handkerchief through his hands, one to the other. Molly took another deep breath. “No. My name is Molly Owens. I’m with Judd Brown and it looks as though Magnolia Sweet has died.”
She didn’t register what the operator said after that because she hung up, slipping her phone in her back pocket. Her hands shook and her steps didn’t feel quite steady.
“Are you all right?” she asked him, keeping her distance but scanning the stage.
He scoffed. “Better than her, obviously. You think it just fell on her?” He looked up to the ceiling then leaned into the house again.
She didn’t want to look but her feet took her closer. “There’s no head wound.” Her eyes scanned the ground. Nothing she could have tripped or slipped on. If she’d slipped on the same coffee Molly had, she wouldn’t be lying where she was.
Judd continued running the cloth through his hands with increasing speed. “Maybe the fright of it killed her.”
Unlikely. From what Molly had seen and heard, not much scared this woman. Other than the fact that she was lying with a house on top of her legs, Magnolia looked peaceful. She lay unmoving in a purple turtleneck and black slacks. There was something white under her head. A white cloth of some sort. But no blood, no marks. She took a step away, her eyes scanning the rest of the stage. It looked complete and oddly enchanting.
Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the rope, slowly moving around the house to see if maybe the rope was frayed. Had it just fallen? A scrap of blue stuck out from where two sides formed a corner. Molly leaned in to see what it was but jumped back with a shudder as she heard the sirens. Within seconds, police were coming through the front of the auditorium, Chris leading the pack.
She felt them approach from the side even before one of the officers barked out, “Freeze. Both of you stay exactly where you are.”
“For the love of,” Chris stopped and stared at her. “Molly. Dammit. Judd? You okay?”
She frowned and turned to face Chris. “Why would you just ask him if he’s okay?”
Chris holstered his weapon and instructed the others to do the same, coming around the side of the stage and taking the stairs two at a time.
He gave Molly a look that could turn water to ice. “Maybe because he doesn’t make a habit of finding people like this.”
Irritation buried the rest of her shakiness and she squared her shoulders even as she crossed her arms over her chest.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the other two officers who’d come in behind him went to the body and the officer who’d yelled at them went to Judd.
“I don’t do it on purpose,” Molly said, forcing the words through clenched teeth.
Chris shook his head and sighed deeply. “I know you don’t.”
He looked over at his guys. Molly recognized Officer Trevor Wills. He was another newbie to the area, though not to the job. He glanced at her, his lips pressed into a tight line, then met Chris’s questioning gaze and shook his head.
“Call the coroner. Secure the scene.” He put both hands on his hips, his brows practically touching.
Molly worried for one quick minute she’d be responsible for Chris having a stroke. Fortunately, he was young and pretty used to her. He pulled in a deep breath, hung his head and exhaled. When he looked back up, he appeared deceptively calmer.
He even gave her a one-sided smile. “Well, Ms. Owens. You definitely know the drill.”
Molly curved her lips in a false smile, refusing to cower even though her body felt cold. She reminded herself that Chris actually liked her and he did have a point about finding bodies.
“I do. Would you like me to give you my statement or your deputy?”
“I’ll take it. Start talking.”
That was not something he said to her all that often.
* * * *
Molly was grateful that Chris let her phone Sam after her statement, even