this outrage, that person will never in my lifetime take part in any production mounted by the players.”
To Burt, of course, that fate was far worse than being cast out into the wilderness.
Even Shane looked sickened. “This is shitty.”
Henny Brawley, lean as a whippet in bright crimson warmups, was staring at Shane, her face creased in a puzzled frown.
Eugene’s broad face puckered. “Who would do such a thing?”
And that was the question in every mind, Annie knew. How could anyone stalk a pet, murder it, then plant the bloodied corpse, and wait for its discovery?
She looked at the watching faces and wondered.
The freckles stood out starkly on Vince Ellis’s ruddy face.
Carla stood with her hands jammed into the pockets of her dungarees, her arms tight to her body, as if she were cold. Long, dark hair framed a sensitive face, frozen now into immobility. Her violet eyes kept glancing at Janet and then away. Once, she shook her head, as if irritated at her own inability to help. Annie admired her compassion, because she felt certain that Janet was the kind of dithery, male-dependent female Carla most abhorred.
Hugo’s silvery black eyebrows were bunched in a furious line. Annie wondered if he were angry at the disruption of the play, or if he liked cats. One thing she was sure of … he didn’t especially like Janet. Funny. She didn’t have an idea in the world what Hugo was thinking behind that brooding, saturnine face.
Sam held a hand to quivering lips. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Burt shot him a look of unconcealed contempt. “For God’s sake, it’s not even your cat.”
“Blood,” Sam said faintly. “Can’t stand blood.”
“Don’t look.”
Janet’s face was beginning to puff from her weeping, and her hiccoughing sobs shook her plump shoulders. T.K. grabbed her elbow and glared at all of them impartially. “We’re leaving,” he said harshly and began to steer Janet toward the steps. He moved with lowered shoulders, ready to bull his way ahead, an ex-jock in uncharted seas.
Henny held up a hand. “Do wait a moment.”
“What for?” T.K. demanded gruffly.
“Someone brought Freddy here,” she said firmly. “Don’t you think we should try to find out who?” She scanned the waiting faces. “One of us, don’t you think?”
There was a moment of stiff, shocked silence, then voices erupted.
“That’s absurd!”
“Just a minute, Henny—”
“Not me!” Shane objected loudly. “I’m no nut case. But somebody damn sure is.”
Arthur tossed his head, flipping the dark hank of hair out of his eyes. “I would hate to think it of one of us.”
Sam seized on Shane’s response. “Jesus, the hunk put hisfinger on it. We’ve got us a nut. Oh, God, that’s all I need now. A nut!” He clapped his hands to his head, moaning.
Eugene twirled his eyeglasses on their long black ribbon and looked like TR learning that his Bull Moose party had gone down in defeat.
“Cool it, everybody.” Max’s voice and demeanor were as pleasant as always, but the voices stilled. “Henny’s right, you know. Somebody brought Freddy in here and put him in the window seat. We have to find out who did it.”
T.K.’s bristly blond brows knitted in concentration, and his heavy head began to nod. “Yeah. Goddammit, yeah. One of us. Who the hell else?” He peered suspiciously from face to face.
“I don’t think so.” Carla’s voice was cool. She stared at Max thoughtfully. “I was the first to arrive tonight, and I didn’t see anyone carrying anything large enough to contain the cat.”
“Of course not,” Henny observed.
Burt shot her an irritated glance. “If nobody carried the cat in, how the hell did the cat get in the window seat?”
“The operative question is when, not how,” Henny retorted, “and the answer’s quite obvious. The deed occurred some time between rehearsal yesterday afternoon and Carla’s arrival tonight.” Henny’s bright dark eyes
To Burt, of course, that fate was far worse than being cast out into the wilderness.
Even Shane looked sickened. “This is shitty.”
Henny Brawley, lean as a whippet in bright crimson warmups, was staring at Shane, her face creased in a puzzled frown.
Eugene’s broad face puckered. “Who would do such a thing?”
And that was the question in every mind, Annie knew. How could anyone stalk a pet, murder it, then plant the bloodied corpse, and wait for its discovery?
She looked at the watching faces and wondered.
The freckles stood out starkly on Vince Ellis’s ruddy face.
Carla stood with her hands jammed into the pockets of her dungarees, her arms tight to her body, as if she were cold. Long, dark hair framed a sensitive face, frozen now into immobility. Her violet eyes kept glancing at Janet and then away. Once, she shook her head, as if irritated at her own inability to help. Annie admired her compassion, because she felt certain that Janet was the kind of dithery, male-dependent female Carla most abhorred.
Hugo’s silvery black eyebrows were bunched in a furious line. Annie wondered if he were angry at the disruption of the play, or if he liked cats. One thing she was sure of … he didn’t especially like Janet. Funny. She didn’t have an idea in the world what Hugo was thinking behind that brooding, saturnine face.
Sam held a hand to quivering lips. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Burt shot him a look of unconcealed contempt. “For God’s sake, it’s not even your cat.”
“Blood,” Sam said faintly. “Can’t stand blood.”
“Don’t look.”
Janet’s face was beginning to puff from her weeping, and her hiccoughing sobs shook her plump shoulders. T.K. grabbed her elbow and glared at all of them impartially. “We’re leaving,” he said harshly and began to steer Janet toward the steps. He moved with lowered shoulders, ready to bull his way ahead, an ex-jock in uncharted seas.
Henny held up a hand. “Do wait a moment.”
“What for?” T.K. demanded gruffly.
“Someone brought Freddy here,” she said firmly. “Don’t you think we should try to find out who?” She scanned the waiting faces. “One of us, don’t you think?”
There was a moment of stiff, shocked silence, then voices erupted.
“That’s absurd!”
“Just a minute, Henny—”
“Not me!” Shane objected loudly. “I’m no nut case. But somebody damn sure is.”
Arthur tossed his head, flipping the dark hank of hair out of his eyes. “I would hate to think it of one of us.”
Sam seized on Shane’s response. “Jesus, the hunk put hisfinger on it. We’ve got us a nut. Oh, God, that’s all I need now. A nut!” He clapped his hands to his head, moaning.
Eugene twirled his eyeglasses on their long black ribbon and looked like TR learning that his Bull Moose party had gone down in defeat.
“Cool it, everybody.” Max’s voice and demeanor were as pleasant as always, but the voices stilled. “Henny’s right, you know. Somebody brought Freddy in here and put him in the window seat. We have to find out who did it.”
T.K.’s bristly blond brows knitted in concentration, and his heavy head began to nod. “Yeah. Goddammit, yeah. One of us. Who the hell else?” He peered suspiciously from face to face.
“I don’t think so.” Carla’s voice was cool. She stared at Max thoughtfully. “I was the first to arrive tonight, and I didn’t see anyone carrying anything large enough to contain the cat.”
“Of course not,” Henny observed.
Burt shot her an irritated glance. “If nobody carried the cat in, how the hell did the cat get in the window seat?”
“The operative question is when, not how,” Henny retorted, “and the answer’s quite obvious. The deed occurred some time between rehearsal yesterday afternoon and Carla’s arrival tonight.” Henny’s bright dark eyes
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