Henri sighed dramatically. “Then we’ll have to find you something new for today.”
“Before we get our costumes, I have one more question,” Sloan said. “Did all of you see one another early yesterday morning?” he asked.
They were silent for a minute. “How early?” Alice shrugged. “I didn’t get up very early. We have late nights here, you know.”
“Brian and I were both up. We had coffee together at about eight,” Valerie said.
“I...slept in,” Cy murmured.
“And I had a meeting with Mike Addison,” Henri said impatiently. “Are you suggesting one of us attacked Zoe and Jimmy Hough?”
“I have to ask, Henri. You know that,” Sloan said.
“Well, you’ve asked.” Henri was evidently angry. “We’re theater people. We entertain—we don’t hurt others. We sure as hell don’t kill them!” he ended indignantly.
“Let’s get our costumes, shall we?” Alice suggested. “There’s way too much testosterone flying around this room!”
Better testosterone than bullets, Jane thought.
She wasn’t sure what else Sloan had planned for the day, but at the moment, it was time for costumes.
“Yep, let’s do that,” Sloan said. But he looked sternly around the group. “Don’t be anywhere alone. Make sure you’re on the street in a crowd or with someone else at all times. I’m not making accusations—I’m just trying to get answers. And I don’t want to find any more bodies.”
Silence followed his words.
Those in the room exchanged glances.
“Don’t!” Henri warned. “Don’t go getting suspicious of one another, please! An ensemble cast must work together. Sloan, see what you’ve done?”
“They have to be careful, Henri. This group may be entirely innocent—but this group is in danger. Someone put Sage McCormick’s skull on that wig stand, and someone got into the basement and struck Jennie and Jane. And someone shot a stranger in the desert and slit Caleb Hough’s throat and tried to kill his family. Everyone needs to be watchful. Someone in this town is a murderer.”
They all looked at Sloan in silence as he spoke.
“We’ll be careful, Sloan,” Valerie said in a small voice. “Honestly.”
He nodded. “It’s your lives,” he reminded them. “Take that very seriously.”
Jane set her hand on his arm; he had gotten his point across.
Henri didn’t seem happy. “Come on, then. If you’re going to be breathing down my neck, get into costume.” He paused, glancing around. “Has anybody seen our housekeeper, Elsie, come in?”
“Yes, she’s upstairs cleaning the rooms with one of the local girls,” Valerie said.
“Valerie, run up and ask her to make sure Jennie’s room is clean so the other agents can stay there,” Henri told her. “Alice, you come with me and Jane and the sheriff.”
“What do you want Brian and me doing?” Cy asked.
“Go ahead and start entertaining the tourists as they show up on the streets.” Henri looked over at Sloan. “They’re allowed to do a little trick-riding, right?”
“Trick-riding is great.”
“Good. I’m glad you don’t think the horses are in on it!” Henri said with a sniff.
That, at least, made them all smile—even Sloan.
“No, Henri, I don’t think the horses are in on it,” he responded drily.
They rose to do as asked. Behind the stage in the dressing rooms, Henri selected clothing for Jane and Sloan to wear. Sloan just had to change into a period cotton shirt, jacket and plumed hat. Jane told them she’d change into her new costume upstairs.
She ran ahead before any of them could protest. Up in her room—or Sage’s room—she spoke out loud while she changed. “We could really use some more help here, Sage. Something was going on—and you knew about it, didn’t you? I wish there was a way you could tell me what you found out. Because people are dying again, Sage.”
If Sage was there, she wasn’t speaking at the moment.
Jane walked into the bathroom. As she brushed her hair and arranged it into a loose chignon, she wished she had time to take a shower; Sage seemed to like writing on the mirror.
She bent down as she dropped a bobby pin. When she looked into the mirror again, she seemed to have double vision—and then realized that the ghost was standing right behind her.
Jane spun around. The apparition didn’t disappear. Instead, she reached out as if she could touch Jane, and then her hand fell.
“I know it can be hard, very hard, to appear and communicate. I also know you’ve been here many years, and I’m not sure why. Do you watch over your family or have you been waiting for this all these years—someone killing people because of the past? I realize you’d never hurt anyone, that you want to help people, but we need to know what you know,” Jane said.