Dying To Teach Part 34

"She knows who murdered Gwen?"

Evan's words captured the attention of several people. Word spread like an atomic explosion. Soon the entire cast and crew had gathered around them, crammed in a long oval shape between the rows of lockers.

A concerned Kiana elbowed between two boys and came to stand beside Angelina.

"Okay," Jarvis said, "spill it."

But his woman was in another place. Pacing in a wide circle, between Jarvis, Evan and Kiana and the stagehands. Jarvis gestured for them to back up and make room.

Angelina was muttering. He could only pick up a few words now and then as she pa.s.sed. "Birth certificate..." A headshake. "Marriage license...photos." Another head shake. "Wrong, wrong, wrong. Not the cops." She slapped a palm on one temple. "Stupid." Another slap. "Think. Think."

Suddenly she stopped pacing and shook herself back to the present. She noticed everyone gawking at her and gave a sheepish grin. "Sorry guys. False alarm. I thought I had it."

Many disappointed faces showed around the group. But Jarvis remained undaunted. It meant she was working on things. It meant a solution would be forthcoming. Soon.

A check of the clock said they needed to be moving outdoors. Cast members gathered what they needed and together they all filed outside.

"Oh wait," Angelina said. "I have to use the ladies room."

"Go ahead," Jarvis told the kids. "I'll wait for her. We'll be right out." He let the door swing shut and stood near the bench while Angelina disappeared into the toilet area.

To pa.s.s the time, he wandered around the locker room looking for the missing box of jewelry, and didn't find it. He checked his watch. She'd been in there almost ten minutes. Unusual for her to be gone so long. Probably she'd zoned into that other world and was working out murder clues. He knocked on the door. The sound echoed off the cement block walls.

No answer. He knocked again and called her name.

Still nothing.

Angie wanted to shout for Jarvis to run for help. But she knew him. Knew he'd come storming in. And get himself hurt. But the gun to her temple prevented her from shouting a warning.

As expected, the door burst open. Jarvis erupted into the room, gun drawn. Her captor spun around, an elbow caught her on the side of the head. An explosion of pain toppled her sideways. She knocked her head on the wall. Everything went black. As she sagged to the floor, a gun went off.

FORTY-TWO.

Angie came to with somebody kneeling beside her. Fingers came away from her throat-somebody checking her pulse? Or sizing her for a garrote? As her vision cleared, she could see the original situation hadn't improved. She'd been in the cubicle when Jarvis entered. Now she was lying on the floor in front of the row of sinks. To the left were the showers. Slightly behind were the toilet stalls, where one of the toilets whooshed water from a faulty valve. She'd been checking it when the attacker struck her.

Rays from a streetlight streamed through the half-dozen rectangular windows near the ceiling, and illuminated her most recent predicament. From outside, the m.u.f.fled voices of gathering spectators almost overshadowed the sound of the water.

She raised a hand to brush hair from her face and came away with something sticky. There was no mistaking the blood on her hand.

"Good, you're awake. I wouldn't want you dying yet."

Tears prevented her seeing behind the gun waving in her face, but the voice was chillingly familiar. And not completely unexpected.

"Why are you doing this?" Stupid question. The reason was clear as mountain spring water.

"Sit up." Pushing back the pain vaulting around in her head, Angie struggled to a sitting position by bracing her hands on either side of her. One hand touched wetness. She didn't have to be a detective to know it too was blood.

The gruesome situation took a turn for the worse seeing Jarvis sprawled beside her. In the pool of blood. He lay in a semi-fetal position facing away from her. Blood encircled his torso. She reached out to touch him, to seek a pulse, to do something, but the gun menaced closer and she jerked her hand back.

Angie managed to focus on his backside enough to see that it was moving. But for how long? "H-he's hurt." Maybe dead.

"No kidding."

"Don't make this worse for yourself. You already have one murder charge hanging over your head."

"So, what's two more?"

This couldn't be happening. Angie a.s.sessed Jarvis's condition. He must be gut-shot-the blood was closer to that area. The puddle didn't seem to be growing. She counted the rise and fall of his breaths-seemed to be fairly regular and without stress. How long before things went downhill?

"Look. The show's about to start. Very soon, someone's going to come looking for me. If you leave now, you can escape. I won't tell anyone it was you."

"Right."

"Okay, what if I promise not to tell anyone for an hour? That should give you time to get away. Think about it. In a minute somebody will come. They'll figure out what's going on and run for help. You do remember that the place is crawling with cops and security guards, right? They'll take you down without a thought."

No verbal response but there was a flicker of hesitation.

"What are your options? You either run or try killing everyone who comes through that door. Sooner or later you'll run out of ammunition and be trapped here-a sitting duck, with dead bodies all over the place. You try to run then and someone's going to kill you. It's a given."

This time the response was a double blink of the eyes. Good, a little more hesitation. Hurry up, make a decision!

The puddle around Jarvis hadn't expanded. As a former nurse, the fact was small consolation since so many things could affect the flow of blood-specifically internal bleeding.

Okay. Okay. She had to think of things she could change, namely the gun looming a foot from her left temple. "So, how did you get in my hotel room?"

"Simple, pretend to be Jarvis and ask for a key."

The movement came out of nowhere. Something black zipped across her line of vision. Before her brain could process anything more than it was a human being, the attacker dropped to the floor with a grunt and a heavy thud. The wrestling began. Angie shot to her feet, prepared to jump into the fray. Where was the gun? As the bodies rolled and tussled, she spotted it now and then. Wait, Jarvis's gun? There, under the farthest sink. She ran, picked it up and-as she aimed and shouted for their attention, the other gun went off.

She kept her gun aimed at the floor, at the person wearing a brown jacket. Brown rimmed gla.s.ses lay broken near her right foot. She kicked them away. The rescuer in black leather and denim stood up and moved away from the body. His face was red, his hair tousled. Evan Harris was the best sight she'd seen in years.

"Call 911," Angie said. Evan took a phone from his hip pocket. After he dialed, she handed him the gun. She didn't need to tell him what to do with it. He'd already aimed the thing at the person on the floor.

She knelt beside Jarvis. And rolled him gently onto his back. His eyes were closed. His skin ghostly white. Blood stained the entire front of his new suit. She pushed up the stiff white sleeve and two-fingered the pulse at his wrist.

The bathroom door burst open. Jose entered, gun drawn. He was followed by a pair of white-suited EMTs. Angie gratefully relinquished command. All she could do now was pray as they a.s.sessed, stabilized, loaded and left with her friend, confidant, and lover.

She started to follow but was halted by Jose's touch on her arm. "I'll take you in a few minutes. Help me straighten this out a minute, would you?"

Angie threw a desperate glance at the propped-open door. The stretcher was just disappearing around the corner. "Please."

There was nothing she could do for him right now. She'd only get in the way at the hospital. Besides, he faced hours of a.s.sessment and tests-if he lived till then.

She sucked in some courage, nodded at Jose, walked to the body and kicked it hard in the ribs.

"Feel better?"

"Marginally."

"You all right?" he asked Evan, who'd backed from the commotion and stood in the farthest corner crammed between the last sink and the wall. His skin was almost as pale as Jarvis's. She went to him and wrapped him in her arms. He sagged against her. And then the sobs came. They wracked his thin body. n.o.body said a word for a long time, though, behind her she heard people enter, turn over the body and begin collecting evidence.

Finally Evan was all cried out. He straightened his spine and backed away.

"Throw some water on your face."

He did so, dashing handfuls up and over his hair. She pushed a wad of brown paper towels at him. He scrubbed them over his hair and heaved them in the trash, then turned to her looking a bit sheepish. She took his hand and led him from the room. They sat side-by-side in the main locker room, letting the investigation go on around them.

Finally Evan found words. "I don't understand. Why would Mr. Philmore kill Ms. Forest?"

FORTY-THREE.

Angie sat in a padded chair just outside the surgery room doors at St. Joseph's Hospital. She wanted to be as close as possible when the surgeon exited with news. Good news. Great news. It had to be.

For the umpteenth time she wiped her palms on an un-b.l.o.o.d.y section of the green dress. A motion down the long hallway gave her something to look at beside the doors. A crowd was moving in her direction. Angie got to her feet as the cast and crew-except for Evan, who'd been escorted home-rushed toward her. After hugs all around, they settled in chairs and on the floor. Kiana took the chair beside her.

Angie prepared to explain what the cops hadn't had time to. With her eyes she asked Kiana for permission to divulge her secret. Kiana shook her head and spoke for herself, telling how Gwen was her real-life mom. Surprised faces glowed around the group.

"I always wondered how you got to be so close to her," one of the girls said.

"There's more," Kiana said. She pulled in a long breath and went on to explain the college relationship with Mr. Reynolds, leaving out the news of his h.o.m.os.e.xuality.

"Mr. Reynolds is your father?"

"Yes. I didn't learn this till yesterday."

"But how is any of that related to Ms. Forest being killed?"

"It isn't," Angie said, receiving a roomful of confused looks. "But I thought it was."

"You thought Mr. Reynolds killed Ms. Forest?"

"I entertained the notion, that's all. I wondered if Mr. Reynolds was the one tearing apart the auditorium-"

"And Gwen's apartment," Kiana added.

Just then Jose entered. Without a word, he joined the group, dragging a seat from across the room.

Angie continued her explanation. "I thought maybe he and Gwen had argued. And maybe she threatened to tell what she knew in hopes it would ruin his career."

"Ms. Forest wouldn't do anything like that."

"A detective has to look at all sides," Kiana said.

"Right," Angie said, ignoring Jose's sly smirk. "I wondered if he'd killed her to keep it all quiet."

"'Cuz he would've lost his job."

"Probably."

"And he was looking for anything that might incriminate him," someone offered.

"That's where my thoughts headed for a short time."

"When did you suspect Mr. Philmore?"

Angie gestured at Jose who told about Cilla's shoplifting. He finished with, "We don't have the entire story yet. Priscilla acknowledges that Gwen knew about her disease-yes, guys, kleptomania is a disease. Mrs. Philmore had been ordered into treatment for it, but couldn't suffer the potential embarra.s.sment. For quite some time, she and Mr. Philmore tried to treat her problem themselves."

"But they couldn't," somebody said.

"Right."

"Then Ms. Forest found out."

"Right."

"And then something happened between either Mrs. Philmore and Gwen, or her and Mr. Philmore. Either way, he feared she'd tell what she knew," Angie said.

"She would never do that," the same person who'd said this before, repeated.

"I guess when you're desperate," Jose said, "you tend to forget things like that."

"So, he killed her to keep her quiet," somebody said.

"What was he searching for all those times?" Kiana asked.

"Cilla told me she'd given Gwen a bracelet for her birthday last year," Jose said. "It was very expensive-and stolen."

"He didn't find it," Angie said.

"No. But we did. In Ted's apartment."

Angie explained about Gwen and Ted's relationship. Some of the kids already knew. Others expressed major surprise.

Someone from hospital staff came and shooed everyone away. Amid thank yous and hugs, Angie promised to return in a few weeks to visit the kids. She and Kiana savored one last hug. "I will see you and Evan on Monday."