The Colors of Hate - 32

Part 2 - Red

The show went on as scheduled the night following the arrest of Mrs Nester for Angela Westcott’s murder. As anyone might have guessed, ticket sales jumped, human nature being what it is. When Dean heard he shook his head in disgust.

“It’s times like this I have to wonder about people,” he growled to his sister when she came into his office, late Sunday morning .

Carrie nodded in agreement. “Not the sort of publicity we would have wanted. It was bad enough when Ange’s death kicked up sales a bit.” She rested her hip on the corner of his desk. “Frank’s leaving, or so the rumor goes.”

“Not leaving, just stepping back. He’ll run the day to day business, but he’s turning the directing chores over to Vince.”

“Could be worse. He could have brought in someone new.” Leaning over, she patted his shoulder. “How are you doing?”

Dean shrugged. “All right I guess. I feel like everyone’s watching me now with a jaundiced eye. As if I’m going to catch them out in something bad they might have done and report them.”   

“Oh Dean, I’m sure they aren’t. Just give it time, things will calm down.”

He nodded. “I hope so. But at least for now, I have the designs for the next show to take my mind off things. Meaning I’d better get together with Vince to see what he has in mind.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Carrie stood, bent to kiss his cheek and murmur, “Love you, Dean,” then headed to the door.

“Love you too, Carrie,” he told her with a smile. After she was gone he picked up the preliminary sketches he’d done for Frank, wondering how much Vince would want them changed. "Hopefully not too much," he murmured as he walked from his office down to Vince’s

* * * *

It was mid-afternoon, and Dean was back in his office, when his cell chimed. He pulled it out, smiling when he saw the caller was Kirby, then answered.

“How’s the famous designer?” Kirby asked once they’d both said ‘Hello’.

“Designing,” Dean replied with a laugh.

“On a Sunday?”  

“Yep. With all that happened things are a bit chaotic, so some of us are here trying to pull it back together again.”

“I see.” Kirby paused. “Okay, I promised I’d let you know when we found out anything about Mr Jones.”