The Colors of Hate – 7

Mr Eckert,” Reid stressed the ‘Mister’, “please have a seat. I take it you’re one of the actors.”

“What was the first clue? The costume?” Jim said as he sat.

Reid smiled slightly. “Yep. So, on to the obvious questions to start with, did you see Ms Westcott last night at the club and how well do you know her?”

“I saw her. She was, well to be honest flirting with every male there, almost.”

“Including you?”

Jim nodded, his mouth tightening. “She and I had a history, and when Carrie took off for the ladies room Ange decided to try and, hell I don’t know, regenerate it?”

“Carrie?”

“Carrie Travers. My girl friend. She’s one of the actresses in the company.”

Kirby looked up from his note taking. “Did Ms Travers see this happen?”

“Yes. But if she hadn’t I’d have told her about it. Ange and I were dating when Carrie joined the company.” Jim smiled then. “She’d only been here for a week and I realized she was something else, something special. So… I broke it off with Ange and it’s been me and Carrie ever since.”

“How did Ms Westcott react to the breakup?”

“She wasn’t happy, but it didn’t stop her from trying to find someone else. She was like that.”

“What was she like as a person?”

Jim thought about that. “She was a good actress but a prima donna. One on one, if she liked you and wasn’t ‘on show’ so to speak, she was nice enough. I honestly think she was somewhat insecure. Afraid she wasn’t good enough to really make it, so men became her security blanket. She could be very sweet, or a real bitch, depending on her mood.”

Reid chuckled. “So a normal female, at least in that respect.”

“I guess.”

“You said Ms Travers saw Ms Westcott and you together last night. Was she upset?”

Jim scrubbed a hand through his hair then shook his head. “Not really, no. Okay when she first came back she grabbed Ange’s hand off my arm and said something like ‘Keep your hands off my man’. I hugged Carrie while they exchanged a few… umm barbs… and then Ange stalked away.”

“That was the last you talked to her?”

“Yes, sir. We did see her again just before we left the club. She was dancing with some man we didn’t recognize.”

“Mr Leads mentioned that. He passed it off as just how she was.”  When Jim frowned briefly, Reid said, “What?”

“Okay, it’s probably not my place to say this because it sounds bad, but Mal was upset. Enough so that we insisted he join us for a late supper so he wouldn’t cause a scene.”

“And he did?”

“Join us? Yes. And he’d calmed down by the time we left the restaurant.”

“All right. Is there anything else you can think of that we should know about last night?”

After a minute Jim shook his head. Reid told him he was free to leave, after telling him if he did think of anything he should give them a call. “And if you would, please send in Ms Travers.”

The Colors of Hate – 6

Once they were seated Reid said, “I’m Detective Sutton, this is my partner, Detective Lasiter. What’s your last name, Malcolm?”

Malcolm sat rigidly, his hands resting on his thighs, as he replied, “Leads.”

“You’re one of the actors?”

“Yes. I’m playing King Arthur in the show. Ange… Ms Westcott was my co-star.”   

“You were at the Red Moon last evening. Did you see her there?”

“Briefly. She was dancing with someone.”

Reid saw a flash of anger cross Malcolm’s face as he answered. “I suspect it’s a stereotypical question, but was there more between you than just a working relationship?”

“Not at all!” Malcolm took a breath. “She was the kind of female who never settled on one man. Always looking to see who might be more interesting. I’m not into women like that.”

“But you are into women.”

“Detective, that is an even more of a stereotype than the idea that actors always hook up with their costars. I am straight, as are most of the men who work here. Well…” he shrugged. “As far as I know most of us are.”

Reid nodded. “You said she never seemed to settle on one man. Were there any of them who might have been upset about that?”

Malcolm glanced away. “Not that I’m aware of. I think we all understood what she was like. We’ve been a company for the last five years, with few changes in personnel.”

“Can you describe the man you saw her dancing with?”

“Tall, dark hair, well-built I suppose, though it was a bit hard to tell that for sure as Ange was wrapped around him like a…” Malcolm stopped talking, disgust limning his features for a second.

“That seems to bother you,” Detective Lasiter commented.

“Not really. It was her way. I think we’re all used to it. I guess, if I am bothered, it’s because he was a stranger, not one of the company, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” Reid replied. “It made you want to protect her.”

Malcolm shrugged. “I guess.”

“All right Mr Leads. If you can't think of anything else we should know, we’ll let you go for now. Please send in the next person if you would.”

As soon as Malcolm left, Reid turned to his partner. “Unless I’m reading it wrong, Kirby, Mr Leads definitely had a thing for Ms Westcott.”

Kirby Lasiter nodded. “I got the feeling he did, and might have been more than a bit upset to see her, how did he put it?” Kirby glanced at his notes. “‘Wrapped around’ the man.”

“Upset enough to want to hurt her, is the question. It seems to me he’d have gone after the man, not her.”

Kirby shrugged. “You know as well as I do, sometimes anger is misplaced with dire results.”

Reid was about to reply when someone knocked on the door. He got up to answer. A tall, nice-looking man stood there. He immediately introduced himself as James Eckert. “But please call me Jim,” he told them with a hesitant smile.

The Colors of Hate – 5

Now what? Dean wondered when he heard two sets of footsteps coming down the center aisle. His next thought was that Angela had finally decided to show up and had brought along reinforcements to alibi her being so late. He turned to look and was quickly debased of that idea. Two men had almost reached the row where he and the other crew heads were seated as they took notes on the rehearsal. The one who sported short, almost military-cut, blonde hair, stopped then bent to ask the lighting director something. He in turn pointed to Frank.

The man walked down to Frank, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention. Frank looked up, obviously put out at being interrupted. Then man said a few words that had Frank on his feet seconds later.

“We’ll take a break for a few minutes,” Frank called out before returning his attention to the man. He nodded as he listened, whatever the man was saying apparently upsetting him. When the man finished, Frank clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Folks, this is Detective Reid Sutton. He’s brought us some disturbing news. I’ll let him tell you himself.”

Detective Sutton waited until everyone was quiet before speaking. “About three a.m. this morning the body of Ms Angela Westcott was found in City Park. She had been beaten severely enough that she died on the way to the hospital, without regaining consciousness.”

There were gasps of shock and words of disbelief from everyone present.

“Do you catch whoever did it?” Malcolm asked when he’d regained his composure.

“No, sir. That’s why we’re here. We need to talk to anyone who might have seen her last night.”

“That would be about half of us,” Jim told him, as he sat down on the edge of the stage. “A group of us, including Ange, were at Red Moon for a good part of the evening.”

“I was one of them,” Carrie said, sitting down next to Jim, her eyes still wide with shock.

Several other cast members and a couple of the backstage crew joined them, telling the detective they’d been there as well. Malcolm was the last to come over. He was obviously quite shaken as he said, “I arrived at the club later than the rest of them, and left almost immediately with Carrie and Jim.”

Detective Sutton nodded. “We’d like to talk to each of you individually. Mr Nester,” he said, turning to Frank, “is there a room we can use where we won’t be disturbed?”

Dean watched, wondering if he should tell the detectives about his set-to with Angela. He figured, reluctantly, that he probably should since several people knew about it now, so he joined the others sitting on the edge of the stage.

Frank, obviously torn between wishing the detectives would leave so the rehearsal could continue, and understanding that wasn’t going to happen, replied to Detective Sutton’s question by telling him he could use one of the offices. “If you don’t mind,” he added, “could you start with my three leads so we can resume what we were doing as quickly as possible?”

The detective nodded as his partner, a tall, dark-haired, pleasant looking man, joined him. Frank asked Malcolm to take them to one of the vacant offices, and the three men left the auditorium.

When they were gone Frank said, “All right folks. Since we seem to be at a stand still for now I suggest you try to relax, if that’s possible, and hopefully we’ll get back on track fairly soon.”  

Dean stood, turning to Tayla who had been sitting with Malcolm. “If you’re up for it why don’t we work on refitting the costumes for you? I might take both our minds off of…this.”

With a wan smile she got up and they headed back to the costume shop.

The Colors of Hate – 4

Frank Nester, the show’s director, paced back and forth across the stage, obviously irate. “Where the hell is Miss Westcott,” he asked, glaring again at his watch.

“Hung-over and still sleeping I suspect,” Carrie whispered to the girl standing next to her.

“Oh boy. It’s almost noon.”

“True, but it is her.” Carrie knew she was being snarky, but honestly didn’t care at the moment.

Frank looked over the cast then pointed to Tayla Mars, Angela’s understudy. “You, get into costume, you’re our new Guinevere as of right now.”

“Oh my god,” Tayla gasped.

“Dean, take her and pin her into the damned dress if necessary. Just make certain she’s back here in five.”

“Ten,” Dean told him as he headed to the costume shop with Tayla in tow.

“You’re really firing Ange just because she’s late?” Malcolm asked Frank, frowning.

“Since she’s already had two warnings, yes I am. Enough is enough. We have a show going up in less than a week and I’m over her game playing.”

Carrie turned to Jim, for a moment savoring how sexy he looked in his costume before saying, “How stupid can she be, doing this?”

“Very stupid apparently. I hope it was worth it to her.”

“We should at least call her.”

“How come you’re suddenly so concerned?” Jim asked.

“I’m not, really, but still I am surprised at her. She’s never pulled a stunt like this so close to opening. Despite all her faults, she’s always been fairly professional when it comes to the job. It’s one thing to be late a couple of times in the beginning, but this is something else.”

“You have a point.” Jim took out his phone, ran through his numbers until he found Angela’s and dialed. He frowned, muttering, “That’s a crock,” before hanging up. When Carrie asked he told her, “Ange’s number was fine yesterday but now it’s saying it’s no longer in service.”

“Strange. I wonder if she broke it or something.”

“I’m sure we’ll find out when she finally shows up. She’ll probably blame being late on her phone alarm’s not waking her in time.”

“Probably,” Carrie agreed before saying, “Wow.”

Jim turned to look and had to agree. Tayla had just returned and she looked every inch as the young Guinevere should look. “Now if she can carry it off I think we’re going to be good,” he said.

It was obvious everyone else agreed, although Malcolm seemed a bit put off by what was happening. He didn’t have a chance to voice an objection however, as Frank clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. When he had it he started the rehearsal.

When she headed back to the dressing rooms to wait until she was due on stage, Carrie passed Dean heading out to the auditorium to take notes. “Whoa,” she said, looking at his face. “Who’d you get in a fight with?”

Dean sighed. “Second most asked question of the day, after ‘where’s Ange?’, and she’s the one who caused this.” He touched his bruised cheek. “She packs quite a wallop when she’s pissed off.”

“Let me guess. She came on to you again and you shut her down.”

“Yeah, and not too politely I’m afraid. She didn’t like it.”

“She was on a roll. She put the moves on Jim last night at Red Moon, too, and almost every other male in the place, if I don’t miss my guess. Oh well, chances are she found someone who took her up on it, since she’s late today. Hope it was worth it to her, all things considered.”

“As long as it means she stops hassling me. Speaking of which, if I don’t get out there Frank’s the one who’ll be doing that.”

Carrie laughed, patting his arm. “Go, do, and hopefully all the costumes are perfect.”

“Hey,” Dean said in mock outrage, “I designed them, of course they are.” Then he chuckled. “I hope so too. I’ll have enough to do before tomorrow just redoing all Ange’s costumes to fit Tayla.”

“For you, easy peasy,” Carrie said to his back as he hurried away.  

The Colors of Hate – 3

“She is so asking for trouble,” Carrie muttered from where she stood in the shadows at the edge of the dance floor. As Carrie watched, Angela put her arm around Jim’s waist while whispering something to him. When Jim smiled in response Carrie saw red. “Can’t even leave you alone long enough to go to the ladies room,” she growled, stalking over to the pair, causing some of the people in her path to shoot worried looks at her as they got out of her way. Grabbing Angela’s arm she spat out, “Hands off my man.”

Angela looked at her with feigned innocence. “We were just talking about the show.”

“Right. And I’m the Queen of Sheba.”

“And a very lovely queen too,” Jim told Carrie, pulling her into an embrace. “My Queen of Hearts.”

Carrie rolled her eyes. “That was lame.”

“Yeah, guess it was.” He hugged Carrie tighter, smiling when Angela walked away. “Thanks for rescuing me. I wish she’d remember she and I are past history now, and quit with her games.”

“For sure. I was very tempted to scratch out her eyes, then figured it wasn’t worth breaking a nail. But next time she tries that…”

Jim stopped her words with a kiss. It lasted long enough that one of the other cast members sitting at the bar said, “Get a room, guys.”

* * * *

Just before midnight they were ready to leave. As they headed to the door Carrie paused, shaking her head. “Guess she finally found a victim.”

Jim glanced in the direction Carrie pointed. “Wonder who he is? He’s not one of ours.”

“Somehow I don’t think she gives a damn at this point. The way they’re dancing, they might as well just shuck their clothes and screw here and now.”

“You sure they aren’t,” Jim replied with a laugh, putting one hand at the small of Carrie’s back to get her moving again. “Come on, let’s go back to my place and see if we can make them look like amateurs.”

“I’m all for that.” They almost made it out of the club when she stopped again. “Someone’s not happy with her,” she said.

It took Jim a moment to figure out what she meant. “Oh boy, when did he come in?”

“I don’t know, but he’s definitely upset.” Carrie veered off, heading toward the man who was playing Arthur in the show. “Mal,” she said when she reached him, “why don’t you come with us. We’re going to get something to eat.”

Malcolm spun around to glare at her. “And leave her with that creep? Why she ever agreed to dance with him is beyond me.”

Carrie refrained from saying, ‘She came on to him, not vise versa’. Instead, she took the high road. “She’s quite able to take care of herself, Mal. No sense causing a scene. That sort of publicity we don’t need.”

Jim nodded. “She’s right, Mal. Come on. We’re going to Loggia’s,” he said off the top of his head, in an attempt to get Malcolm away from the club.

After a long pause and a deadly glare at Angela, who didn’t even notice, Malcolm turned away. “Sounds good to me. I need to be anywhere but here, I think.”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Carrie linked her arm with his to steer him to the door. “Good food, good company, and then a good night’s sleep so we’ll be ready for rehearsals tomorrow.”

“Twenty to one she’ll be too hung-over to show up on time,” Malcolm muttered.

“Well, that is her problem, not ours. But Frank will tear her a new one if that happens, and I think she knows it.”

“Okay, kids, shall we find something more interesting to talk about than the prima donna,” Jim said once they were outside the club.

Carrie and Malcolm nodded in agreement, then the three of them headed down the street to the all-night restaurant.