illumination was that which she’d turned on when they came in.
“I don’t think it was…human,” Vivien finally said. Something rippled through him—she felt it because his arm was touching hers—and he gave a short bark of laughter.
“I don’t know what it was,” he said. “But whoever or whatever it was, it’s not happy.”
She reluctantly pulled her fingers from his and started to walk down the aisle back to the stage. Everything was so still and silent and normal that she could almost believe she’d imagined it.
But now what did she do?
“I’m afraid to look in the back,” she said when she felt Jake come up alongside her. “It sounded like a tornado back there…”
“First, show me where you were standing when the weird light came on the first time,” he said, brushing her hand with his fingers in a fleeting gesture.
Surprised by his change of subject—didn’t he want to see what had made those awful crashing, falling noises?—Vivien nonetheless paused on her path to the stage.
“Here…right about here,” she said, slightly relieved to be focusing on something more easily explained than what had just happened. Her fingers were still trembling. “And look, feel it—the floor gives a little.”
She’d stepped on it, felt the give, and now crouched to examine the strip of carpet that ran down the center aisle. Digging out the multitool she always carried in her pocket, she carefully began to cut into the rug several inches away from the “soft” part of the floor.
“Oh…Jake, look…”
But he was already next to her and saw what she saw when she flipped back the piece of carpet.
“You were right. It looks like some sort of trigger pad—there’s even a wire coming from it.” He began to follow the slender black wire that trailed into a row of seats.
“I wouldn’t have noticed it because it’s pretty dark in here, and they camouflaged it very well, right up against the bottom of the chairs along the floor. The bastard,” she said as she pulled to her feet. “What an absolute bastard.”
Whatever shock had lingered after the events on the stage a moment ago disintegrated and was replaced by deep fury toward the absolute, definite human who’d been harassing her.
“It ends here, under this seat,” Jake said, holding up the wire at the fourth chair in from the aisle. “And it’s connected to a little transmitter.” With an angry jerk, Jake pulled the device out from beneath the seat. He said something under his breath, then stood and held the transmitter so it dangled by the wire. “Who’s got it in for you, VL? Who’s gone to all this trouble?”
Before she answered, he started looking up and around, and she realized he was searching for cameras. A cold shiver trickled down her spine as she was once again reminded that someone must be watching her somehow…
And was it possible that the loud, crashing, shaking, light-flashing thing that had just happened could have been caused by someone—not something—that wished her ill?
Vivien wasn’t certain which would be worse—a human or metaphysical entity.
She just wanted it to stop.
They showed Helga and Joe Cap—who was back from college tours and had brought his officer to pick up her police cruiser—the trip mat and its transmitter device, as well as the GO OR DIE backdrop and the red silk swath hanging up there next to it. There were the two small nanny-cams Jake had found—one was trained onto the stage, and one aimed the center aisle—that they disconnected and turned over to the authorities.
By tacit agreement, neither Vivien nor Jake mentioned the frigidly cold air or the violent shaking of the scaffolding and stage.
Captain Joe Longbow was an easygoing, rugged man in his fifties with ink-black hair in a crew cut. His uniform shirt was a little tight around the middle, but he had solid shoulders and arms, and his eyes were sharp.
When Vivien was finished explaining everything, he scratched his chin and looked up at the scrim that still hung over the center of the house. “Death, huh?” he said in his easy drawl. “Sounds like someone’s got a bee in their bonnet over you, Ms. Savage. Heard your car got bashed in, too.”
“I have no idea who it might be,” Vivien replied. “I’ve been here less than a week—”
“But you did live here before,” Jake reminded her.
She shrugged. “More than a decade ago. Who’s going to carry a grudge that…long.” She felt her face heat up as Jake lifted a brow.
Fine. He had a point. But