her a thumbs-up.
Break a leg...
Yes, that was the expression.
Lucia had said the words meaning the best. That night, they sat with her oddly. And she had the strangest feeling someone who might not wish her well was watching as she quickly slid around the side of the stage to reach the wings and the green room.
That was ridiculous.
Jennifer Lowry, the poor dead woman, certainly had no intention of causing her any harm. She...she just wanted a friend in her strange place in the world of the in between.
She had to forget it all. Titan sensed her moods. She wanted to be her best so that Titan would be his best.
And like it or not, she was nervous. She wanted to be entertaining.
She wanted to impress Axel.
Because he was such an impressive man.
She paused just before she curled around the stage to reach the wings and looked back. Her table seemed to be enjoying themselves. Each person was leaning forward in conversation. Only Jeremy Gray and Larry Stillwater seemed to sit straight with dignity bred into their every movement and nonmovement.
She glanced over to the next table where her friends were sitting—Tate, Jordan, Mya and her husband, Tate’s father and mother, a middle-aged woman and Frank Peters.
They didn’t seem as engaged with one another. But to be honest, Raina herself had always had trouble engaging with Tate’s dad. Jefferson Fielding had a great reputation for maintaining a stellar law firm, but he’d always seemed overbearing to Raina. On the one hand, Tate—and Jordan—had risen like young skyrockets in the firm. On the other, Raina wondered just how resentful Tate might be—his dad seemed to call every shot.
Then again, while Helen Fielding had greeted her cordially that night, Jefferson Fielding had barely afforded her a nod. She didn’t think he could dislike her because of her failed high school romance with Tate, especially since she and Tate were still friends.
She was suddenly grateful that Helen and Jefferson Fielding were not at her table.
She realized she had paused too long. Clive was about to come onstage. She gave herself a little shake—mentally and physically—and hurried back.
Clive and Titan seemed to be doing just fine. She thanked him, and talked to Titan, gaining the dog’s attention as the clown left. She really wanted them both to be at their very best that night. And admittedly, she was getting to the point where she was suspicious of the sun just for shining.
But even as she kept talking to Titan, she realized why.
She couldn’t forget being in the morgue. It hadn’t been “creepy.”
It had been sad.
And she’d had that strange sensation. As if the woman, a pale remnant of the dead woman, had stood just beside her, reaching out desperately, not knowing why someone had stolen her life and who that someone might have been.
As she and Titan headed out to the stage wing, the thought took precedence again.
A ghost was trying to reach her.
How? Why? The dress had done something to her. It seemed a woman she had never known in life had somehow really managed to touch her. And the sensation of her overwhelming sadness and the fear she had encountered suddenly seemed to rush through her again.
A thought occurred to her.
The murderer was in the room.
She almost groaned aloud—a big mistake when she was wearing a lavalier mic and any sound she made would be heard by the entire audience.
She managed to push the ridiculous thought aside, firmly tamping it down.
The murderer could be anywhere in the state.
Or across the country or even in a foreign country by now.
At her side, Titan gave out a low growl.
As if even he was afraid that someone dangerous was in the room, as well.
Six
Clive the Clown was a good performer, playing with the front tables. Everyone went along with his sight gags and jokes, and he didn’t seem to mind performing while the salad plates were taken away and the main course set down. He was a slim man. With his clown suit and clown makeup on, it was difficult to know what he really looked like. When he’d come out, Lucia had whispered that Clive was really a shy man, almost an introvert—unless he was being Clive the Clown.
Axel had met a few of the performers at Adam Harrison’s rescued theater who were brilliant onstage and shy when off, so he wasn’t surprised. Costumes and makeup could help a person change what they were—almost as if they were two different people.
Clive left the stage to