THIRTY-TWO

An hour later, the standing room only crowd had gone home. The sky was black, the only light came from streetlights around front of the building. Or maybe the light came from the glow of success oozing from each cast member. The entire group—nobody had wanted to leave yet—lounged on the bleachers in air cold enough to make goosebumps, but the lingering euphoria kept all chills away. Security’s presence was an occasional shadow patrolling the fringes of the football field. It wouldn’t be hard to forget they were there. For this wonderful October evening, this single moment in time, it was almost as though the events of the past week never happened. Kiana’s pain had faded, whether from medication or pure exhilaration, she didn’t care. For this very moment, all was right with the world.

A few moments ago, Mrs. Deacon presented a congratulatory speech that lifted every little hair on Kiana’s body. It had her feeling talented and invincible, and ready to perform again—right now. Mrs. Deacon finished to a standing ovation that she focused back on them. “All I did was stay out of your way.” Which brought more applause. Kiana hoped that someday she could inspire people like that. She couldn’t wait to start working at Prince & Pauper.

The group lapsed into contemplative silence broken only by an occasional huff of breath or shuffle of feet on the cold bleachers. Kiana knew with absolute certainty that Gwen had been there, had seen the performance. And had been pleased. Kiana also knew it was the last she’d see of her beloved mentor. Tears fuzzed up her vision and her thoughts wandered to places she’d sworn to avoid because sometimes your fate is set and nothing can change it. No, she would not think about that right now.

“You all right?” Mrs. Deacon asked, touching her arm.

“She’s gone.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.” If she explained about Gwen being there, Mrs. Deacon would think she was off her rocker and renege on her offer of a job.

Mrs. Deacon stood up and came around to where Kiana sat. She pressed a wad of tissues in her hand, then stepped back and called, “Anybody hungry?”

A rousing shout came from the group—mostly the boys. “I’d like to treat you all to Chinese food.”

“We can’t let you do that,” Evan said. Others voiced agreement but not very vehemently.

“It’s all been arranged, so go inside, gather your things and meet me at the Lilac Blossom. If anyone needs a ride, either buddy up or meet me at my car.”

Kiana hurried inside to collect her purse. No need to change from the costume since in the last scene she’d worn regular street clothes. Though she could have, and normally would have ridden with Evan, tonight she wanted to go with Mrs. Deacon. Since learning about Mr. Reynolds being gay, Evan had been all weirded out, like he was looking at everyone, even her, in a different light.

Cars zipped out of the parking lot as if on the way to a fire. Two boys stood beside Mrs. Deacon’s car. Kiana waited for them to get in the back. Suddenly her pain came back with the intensity of a freight train. She gripped the hood of the car and waited for the wave to pass.

She felt a hand on her arm and opened her eyes. Mrs. Deacon eased her around the door and into the passenger seat and shut the door. Her hazy figure crossed in front of the car, and she got in the driver’s seat.

“What is your address?” Mrs. Deacon asked.

“Wha—”

“Where do you live—I’m taking you home.”

That sounded like the best idea she’d heard all day. Moments later two boys were escorting her into the house where her mother took over and put her to bed.

* * * *

The next morning, she still felt washed out but got up at five and left without breakfast, telling her mother she planned to meet Evan at the coffee shop—a lie. They needed some time apart. He needed to come to terms with Mr. Reynolds’ homosexuality and she needed… Right now, Kiana only wanted to find Gwen’s killer.

She and Evan had planned to go to the janitor’s house early this morning. The man’s extraordinary interest in that picture needed looking into. His home address, gleaned from the job application she’d stolen from Mr. Reynolds office, was tucked in her jacket pocket. She headed for Farina’s but a last minute change of thought that she might meet up with Evan there had her heading for a fast food place nearby.

Kiana bought a hot chocolate and two orders of hash browns and took a seat near the window, rubbing her frozen fingers together. Why hadn’t she brought gloves? For a while she alternated between watching cars slog past and making notes on her finding the murderer list. She didn’t take much notice of the person who slid into the seat two booths away. Until the woman reached up to take off her hat. She laid it on the table near a beat-up cloth handbag.

It was the girl from the park!

And in the bright light of the fast food place, Kiana realized with immense disappointment, it was not Nina. This person looked nothing like Nina.

Last night, the hat appeared thick like she had bunched long hair up inside it. Today Kiana could see the reddish locks pulled back in a short, fluffy ponytail, which accounted for the thick look of the hat. The woman was about thirty, not pretty, but the addition of makeup smoothed out the features and made her pleasant to look at.

Kiana felt a glimmer of recognition. She’d seen her somewhere before.

Gosh, if she knew this woman, then the woman might know her too.

Kiana scarfed down the rest of the potato, popped the lid back on the hot chocolate, and moved to a table far across the room. Kiana took out her phone intending to call Evan. He lived miles away and chances of him getting here in time to follow the woman were slim so she dialed Mrs. Deacon instead. It rang once then someone snatched the phone from her fingers, flipped the lid shut and slid the thing across toward her.

Evan sat and pushed her across the bench seat with his rear end.

“What are you doing here?” they said at the same time.

“I came for breakfast,” Kiana said as he said, “I was following her.”

Evan continued with, “I was on my way to pick you up. I stopped for gas and saw her coming out of the Quik Stop. And followed her here.”

“You think she’s meeting him?”

“I’d bet money on it. Too cold to meet in the park.”

“Do you know who she is?”

“No. You?”

“Yes. Well, sort of. I’ve seen her before but can’t place her. It could be some place as simple as the checkout line at K-Mart. You know what I mean?”

“Think hard.”

Kiana did think. She ran a slide-show of memories through her head. Nothing came to mind.

Fifteen minutes passed. Nobody showed up to meet the woman. She crumpled her sandwich wrapper, stood and put on her hat. Kiana nudged Evan to get up. He did and started for the door. But Kiana went the other way—toward the woman. They crashed into each other. Purses flew.

Kiana staggered back against one of the booths. The hard back of the chair dug into her hip. The woman stumbled into a chair that grated on the floor, smashed into one of the tables and upended a chair on the other side. After a few moments, everything had been put back in place and Kiana stood staring sheepishly at the woman, who pointed at her. “I know you.”

Kiana slid into a seat. “I was thinking the same thing. But I couldn’t remember where.”

The woman sat also. “I work in the high school. In the cafeteria lunch line. I see you and him,” she pointed at Evan, who now came to join them. “You sit together every day. You always look so busy.”

“Lately we’re rehearsing,” Evan said. “Kiana wrote the play the school is putting on.”

The woman nodded. “I heard it’s quite good.” She looked at Evan. “I heard you wrote the music.”

“Someday she’s going to be a big star,” Evan added.

What was he up to? He’d never said anything like that to her. Was he trying to get information from the woman? If so, he should be leading the conversation toward the man they’d seen her with.

“She’s going to attend Greensboro College to major in acting and voice,” Evan continued. “And next week, she’s starting work at Prince and Pauper Theater.”

“In Alton.”

“Right. One of the owners, Mrs. Deacon, is here taking Ms. Forest’s place.”

“That was nice of her to come.”

“It was,” Kiana said. “It was nice of her to give me a job too.”

The woman picked up her gloves from the table and stood. “Well, I guess I’ll see you in school. I have to get going.” Then she walked away.

Evan got up too. “Come on, I have a plan.”

Kiana was on the verge of telling him he could participate in his plans by himself, but couldn’t say the words. They quite possibly had to do with finding Gwen’s murderer. For that, Kiana was all in.

Evan outlined his thoughts. Then he gave her a job—phone Mrs. Deacon and invite her to breakfast. And don’t take no for an answer.