Миранда Джеймс - File M For Murder

Johnston’s face paled. He sputtered, but no intelligible words emerged from the sounds. I heard a few titters, quickly hushed, from the crowd of students.

I reached the stage, then, and ran up the stairs stage left. Laura saw me coming and met me at the head. I handed Diesel’s leash to her, and she took it. “Be careful,” she whispered.

Johnston still seemed unable to articulate, but he drew back his right arm and punched at Lawton’s head. The playwright’s reflexes were too good, however. He ducked, and Johnston’s fist sailed past Lawton’s face. The momentum caused Johnston to teeter backward and stumble.

Before Lawton could react, I motioned to a tall, muscular youth a few feet from the other side of the combatants. He responded immediately and stepped forward to grab Ralph Johnston and pull him further away. I stepped in front of Lawton and glared at him.

“Enough.” My temper flared, and I knew if the playwright attempted to attack me, I’d knock him back so fast he wouldn’t know what hit him. He was much younger than I, but I outweighed him by at least fifty pounds and was several inches taller.

Lawton took one look at my face and apparently read my intent. He stepped back, his hands coming up in a gesture of surrender.

“You should be ashamed of yourself.” A new, but familiar, voice startled both the playwright and me. I glanced aside to see Sarabeth Conley, Johnston’s administrative assistant, her expression one of grim determination, striding toward us.

Lawton glanced at her and paled. He took two more steps back, almost to the edge of the stage. Sarabeth, tall and heavyset, was a formidable sight, like Boudicca defying the Romans. She stopped a couple of feet away and raked Lawton with a glance of disgust. “You were raised better than this. How long do you think you can get away with treating people like idiots before someone teaches you a lesson you won’t recover from?”

With that she turned away and focused her attention on Ralph Johnston. The light caught her caftan, the same one she had worn at the party, and played off the many beads and sequins. The muscular student had released him, and Johnston was breathing deeply to regain his composure. When Sarabeth slid an arm around his shoulders, he spoke. “First I must offer my apologies to you all. My behavior was inexcusable, though I feel justified in saying that I was the subject of extreme provocation.” He paused for a deep breath. “I’m going straight to the president of the college to report his incident, Lawton. I’m going to do my best to have your contract terminated immediately.”

Lawton made a rude gesture, but before the situation could escalate again, Laura stepped forward, Diesel at her side.

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary, Professor,” she said in her best placatory tone. “Things have certainly gotten out of hand, but I’m sure once Connor has had time to think things over, he’ll apologize to you and to everyone else.” She glared at Lawton, as if to intimidate him into submission.

Why on earth was my daughter running interference for this cretin? Did she still harbor feelings for him? Or was she simply trying to help a friend who’d gone too far?

“And here I was, thinking maybe you didn’t care after all, babydoll.” Connor crowed with laughter.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Laura had fire in her eyes, and if Lawton knew what was good for him, he’d back off. Laura was like me, with a fuse slow to ignite, but once it did, she would take no prisoners. “I’m looking out for the students, not you.”

“I guess that puts me in my place.” Lawton’s tone was mocking. “Fine. Sorry, Johnston. Guess I got carried away, heat of the moment and all that. I promise I’ll chill out.” His voice hardened. “But I’m going to direct this play. No one else.”

I watched Johnston for his reaction. His pugnacity seemed to have fled, replaced by exhaustion. Sarabeth still had her arm around him, and he appeared to need the support. Johnston waved a hand in Lawton’s direction. “Long as you don’t browbeat the students anymore, I guess we can go ahead.”

“Right, then.” Laura moved forward to center stage. “Let’s all take ten, then we’ll start again from the top of scene two.” She clapped her hands, and everyone on stage began to move.

Sarabeth led Johnston to the wings, and the students quickly disappeared.

“So now you’re stage manager as well?” Lawton smiled sourly.

“Take a smoke break,” Laura advised him. “Maybe some nicotine in your system will calm you down.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lawton sketched a derisory bow, then turned and jumped down from the stage. He headed up the aisle toward the door.

Laura turned to me, and I could see the strain in her expression. Diesel rubbed against her legs and chirped. With a quick smile she squatted and hugged the cat against her. Diesel kept chirping and meowing, and Laura told him, “You’re the best tonic in the world, big boy.”

I moved closer and extended a hand. Laura grasped it and stood. “Thanks, Dad. I’m glad you and Diesel are here, but I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that clown.” I frowned. “Johnston was right. He ought to see what he can do about cancelling Lawton’s contract. He’s surely not worth all this hullabaloo.”

Laura sighed. “I know he’s difficult. Trust me, I’ve seen him in action several times. But usually after one good blowup he settles down.”

“I hope you’re right.” I put my arm around her, and she rested her head on my shoulder a moment. Diesel rubbed against both our legs. He was so big he could actually touch all four at once.

Movement in the wings stage right caught my attention. A man stood in the shadows. I couldn’t see his face, but he moved into the light for a moment. He appeared to be in his mid-forties, with a stocky build, a shock of salt-and-pepper hair, and stubbled cheeks. His rumpled clothing, similar to what the college custodial staff wore but less well kept, lent him a seedy air. He hesitated, then moved forward. He looked vaguely familiar.

I released Laura, and she straightened as the stranger paused in front of us.

“Excuse me.” His voice was deep. “Looking for Sarabeth Conley. They said she was here. You seen her?”

“She was here until a few minutes ago,” I said. I gestured toward stage left. “She went out that way, but I’m not sure where she is now.”

“Thanks.” The man nodded and disappeared moments later into the shadows of stage left.

“Do you know him?” I asked.

“I’ve noticed him a couple of times, hanging around the theater.” Laura frowned.

“I’ve seen him around campus, I think,” I said. “Pretty recently, too.”

“Oh, I know,” Laura said. “He was also at the party we went to. Someone may have introduced him, but I can’t recall his name.”

“Now I remember. I don’t know who he is either.” My mind shifted back to the subject of discussion before the stranger appeared. “Now, about Lawton. Why are you going to bat for him? Surely your life would be simpler if Johnston did manage to get him fired.”

“Probably.” Laura flashed a quick grin. “He got me this job, though, and I owe him something for that. Besides, I love his work. Whatever else he is, he’s an amazing writer.” She paused. “When he actually finishes a play, that is.”

“Is the writing not going well?” The question sounded fatuous to me, given what had ensued on stage earlier, but Laura forestalled me when I tried to explain what I meant.

“I don’t think it is. I haven’t been around Connor while he’s actually writing a play before.” Laura massaged her temples and stared down at Diesel, who sat looking up at her. She smiled at him as she continued. “He keeps bringing in revisions. Maybe he’s always worked this way, but the plot seems to be turning into a mystery of some kind. He’s never written a mystery before. Plus he’s introduced a new set of characters, so I’m not really sure where he’s going with it.”