Page 10 of A Chorus Line-Up


  Ah. This must be Donna Hilty—Nashville singing sensation turned show choir coach. “Christine and I talked a little while ago. I’m just glad that the emergency that would have prevented you from teaching wasn’t as bad as you anticipated. The kids will be thrilled to have the opportunity to work with you.”

  “So, you’re really not upset?” Donna stepped around the piano. For the first time I had a clear view of her outfit. Between the ruffled white skirt and the fringe-lined baby blue shirt, Donna Hilty looked like a country-style china doll.

  “I’m really not,” I assured her. Since Donna could be a good source of information, I added, “In a way, I’m relieved. After what happened last night, the kids need to be around people who knew LuAnn. I just met her yesterday. And being the one that found her after she was hit by that car—”

  “Oh my gosh, honey.” Donna walked over, put her hand on my arm, and gave it a squeeze. “You found her? I can’t imagine what that was like. I would have taken one look at LuAnn and fainted dead away.”

  Something told me Donna was made of sterner stuff. Especially when you considered that I no longer had any circulation in the arm that she was holding. Yeouch. Donna might look small, but she had one hell of a grip.

  I tugged on my arm. Donna held fast as she lamented the death of one of show choir’s biggest supporters. “I honestly don’t know what we’ll do without her enthusiasm. Bless her heart.”

  Donna started to sniffle. Tears leaked from her eyes and streamed down her face, sending a trail of mascara down with it.

  Okay, maybe it was insensitive of me, but the emotional outburst was a relief. The tears gave me the excuse to yank my arm away so I could grab a Kleenex out of my purse. Any longer and my arm would have gone numb.

  Donna took the tissue with a nod of thanks and dabbed at her eyes. The more she wiped, the more tears appeared. And the sound of feet on the stairs and chatter coming down the hall told me that kids were on their way.

  This was bad. The worst thing a teacher could do was demonstrate lack of control. It was a lot like working with dogs. You had to show you were the alpha in order to earn respect and get them to pay attention. At the first sign of weakness, all bets were off. Clearly, I hadn’t learned this lesson before dealing with Killer. This was why I lost my bacon. The last thing I wanted was for Donna to lose hers.

  Handing her another tissue, I whispered, “I think some of the kids are early for class. If you want a minute to go to the bathroom or get a drink, I’m happy to supervise until you return.”

  Donna snuffled, eked out a thank-you in between sobs, and raced into one of the dressing rooms to the right. Just in time. The door closed behind Donna, and several girls walked in. I told them to take a seat and watched as more kids filtered in. Chessie, Breanna, and Megan arrived along with several of the Music in Motion boys. When they spotted me, they walked over to say hello. I let them know about the change in instructors and asked Megan how her throat was feeling. The way her cheeks flushed when she answered told me she wasn’t as fabulous as she claimed. I warned against singing or speaking during the class and then sent the group to find their seats. Meanwhile, I watched the dressing room door for signs that Donna had recovered from her crying jag.

  “I didn’t expect to see you down here.” Scott’s warm baritone voice rose over the teenage chatter. I turned to find him standing behind me, wearing a shiny silver dress shirt and a wide smile. “Did Donna get called away? It wouldn’t be the first time her manager pulled her from a commitment. Teaching is important, but she has a bigger career to think about. You understand all about that, right?”

  “Donna’s here,” I said, pointing toward the bathroom. “She just needed a minute to pull herself together. She’s taking LuAnn’s death pretty hard.”

  “I doubt it.” Scott stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Donna didn’t much like LuAnn.”

  “LuAnn and Donna didn’t get along?”

  “Not in this lifetime.” Scott chuckled. “Just last month they ran into each other at the Louisville Invitational. The show onstage was nothing compared to the one the two of them put on in the back. I was working with my team in our staging room so I didn’t see it. But the way Donna tells it, she went toe-to-toe with LuAnn about having her removed from her position with this competition, and LuAnn tossed out the cliché that it would only happen over her dead body.”

  The door to the dressing room opened, and Donna walked out looking as if she’d never shed a tear. When she spotted Scott, she waved. Scott gave her a warm smile and whispered to me, “Seems like Donna got her wish. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. When it comes to winning, Donna always does.”

  Chapter 11

  The master class started. I watched from the doorway as Donna welcomed the students and gave them a pep talk. Once she was done talking, she gave a nod to the piano player, who promptly launched into the intro of “Someone to Watch Over Me.”

  Donna’s voice had a country twang and a rich timbre that gave her rendition of the song a different quality than I was used to hearing. Her voice was unique. Not only that, she had flair. I could see why her singing career had taken off and had to wonder what she was doing here in this greenroom instead of touring the country. Did she like teaching that much? Scott seemed to imply that her main focus was her personal performing, but I wasn’t sure how much stock to put in his testimony.

  The students applauded. A bunch in the back stomped their feet and screamed more loudly than the rest. It was easy to see that Donna’s students not only won competitions under her direction; they loved her.

  When the first student got up to sing, I headed for the stairs. Listening to high school kids sing from Wicked and Hairspray wasn’t going to help me figure out who was behind the costume-shredding. However, learning more about Donna and LuAnn’s relationship might.

  Donna hadn’t been here yesterday. Aside from Music in Motion, hers was the only other team not affected by the sabotage. If Donna and LuAnn’s animosity was as well-known as Scott suggested, it was possible one of Donna’s team had decided to take matters into their own hands. If that was the case, the student or students were smart. Had they targeted only LuAnn’s team, someone might have guessed the reason why. But by targeting so many groups, they’d concealed any additional motive. Of course, I could be completely wrong, but a girl had to start somewhere.

  Heading up the stairs, I sent a text to Larry asking him to meet me in the lobby. Our team hadn’t been at the Louisville Invitational, but Larry loved gossip. If people were buzzing about LuAnn and Donna’s fight, Larry would know.

  The lobby was filled with high school students. Crap. I’d forgotten a master class was also assigned to run in here today. Acting Musical Theater Scenes was currently in progress. Several kids glanced in my direction and began whispering among themselves. The instructor up front gave them a stern look, but the kids didn’t seem to notice. Or if they did, they didn’t care.

  Not wanting to disrupt the class any more than I already had, I walked over to the far side of the lobby to wait for Larry. I was thankful when he arrived a few minutes later, looking out of breath and a little wild around the eyes.

  “Is everything okay? Did s-s-someone else get hurt? Why aren’t you teaching?”

  Oops. I’d assumed Christine McCann had told the other teachers about the master class instructor change. I’d assumed wrong. “Everything is fine. Donna Hilty got back earlier than expected and was able to teach the class as originally scheduled.”

  “That’s not fair.” Several kids glanced in our direction at the sound of Larry’s distressed and fairly loud protest. “Our students were looking forward to watching you work with other singers. The least Christine could have done was allow you to teach the class alongside Donna and Scott. Now people are going to assume you were too freaked-out by your discovery of LuAnn Freeman to handle your teaching duties. What will the judges
think if they hear that kind of speculation?”

  That I was human? Call me crazy, but finding a dead body would make any sane person flip. Someone who didn’t get upset in that situation would be far more concerning. Larry was too overwrought to appreciate the distinction.

  “I wouldn’t worry about the judges,” I said. “They’ll have more important things to deal with.” Like evaluating the performers instead of the teachers. I hoped. “Besides, if people talk about anyone falling apart, it will be Donna. I talked to her before the master class. She had to go to the bathroom in order to pull herself together. LuAnn’s death hit her really hard.”

  Larry cocked his head to the side. “Are you sure you’re talking about Donna Hilty?”

  “Blond hair. White high-heeled cowboy boots. Lots of fringe?”

  “That’s her.” He frowned. “But I’m having a hard time believing she was upset about LuAnn. I’ve never seen any of their fights personally, but they’re legendary.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe the two of them decided to bury the hatchet.”

  Larry shook his head. “Unless Donna had a personality transplant, the only place she’d bury the hatchet was in LuAnn’s back. Donna thought LuAnn’s interaction with the sponsors for this competition caused her team to be held to a different standard than others. A couple of weeks ago, Donna filed a formal complaint when Central Memphis High School was invited to attend this competition. I think I mentioned that to you a while back.”

  He had talked about being copied in on a complaint about one of the participating teams. Apparently the heads of all the programs also invited had received the e-mail directed to Christine McCann. Knowing how cutthroat the theater and show choir world could be, I hadn’t paid attention to the parties involved or the claims being made. Getting my own team ready had taken priority then. But I was interested now.

  “Why did Donna file the protest?”

  “Central Memphis only took two first-place trophies this year. And those were in the first two competitions they attended. Since then, they haven’t placed higher than third.” Larry shrugged. “Donna felt they didn’t measure up to the rest of the field and that other teams more deserving were overlooked. All because of LuAnn’s influence over the sponsors.”

  “I’m guessing that didn’t go over well.”

  Larry laughed. “Scott Paris threatened to pull his team out of the competition. He was working hard to convince other directors to do the same, when suddenly he changed his mind and Donna withdrew her complaint. Christine must have found a way to smooth things over with both of them, but I haven’t heard how she managed it. Whatever she said must have been really persuasive, because Donna was threatening to go to the media with her concerns and Scott was right there with her.”

  Huh. “Are Scott and Donna friends?” Because their actions, while separate, sounded coordinated. And the way Scott had talked about Donna this morning made me think they knew each other from more than bumping into each other at competitions.

  Larry shrugged. “It’s hard to tell. Donna likes to flirt, so there have been whispers about her and just about every male director she’s ever talked to. Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious,” I said, hoping Larry couldn’t hear the lie in my voice. The last thing I wanted was for him to learn about Christine’s threat. Larry had finally stopped stuttering. I didn’t want to make him start up again. “It sounds like a lot of the opposing directors weren’t wild about LuAnn.”

  “Not just the opposing ones.” Larry nodded toward the two instructors demonstrating how to make an arc cross. One of the teachers was the diminutive, dark-haired woman I’d seen when LuAnn was yelling at me from the stage.

  “LuAnn didn’t get along with the directors from her school?”

  “Not from what I’ve heard.”

  “Then why would they allow her to be so involved with the team?” It wasn’t like she was on staff or being paid by the school district to work with the kids. Parent volunteers were essential in any program, but it was easy for well-meaning parents to cross the line, turning their assistance into interference. Stage moms and dads were common in this business. We had a number of them who would be arriving to watch the preliminary competition tomorrow. Which would add a whole new layer of drama to this event. But Larry and Devlyn excelled at setting boundaries for our parents, even the ones on the school board who held positions of power.

  “Got me. All I know is that she’s been wreaking havoc on the show choir scene for years and that I’ve counted myself fortunate that our schools don’t normally compete against each other. Oh.” Larry snapped his fingers. “Did Devlyn talk to you about the staging idea he had last night? He thought it might be a good idea in the second number to move the couples on the left and right downstage for the first lift. It’s a more complicated move than the other teams are doing, so he thought we should give the judges a better view.”

  It was a good idea. Especially considering Christine’s threat. If I didn’t finger the crazy costume-cutter, my team was going to need every extra point they could get.

  “Devlyn and I will redo the spacing on that number when we get onstage. Do you know where he’s at now?” I wanted to enlist his help with Christine’s task. Maybe if he turned on the charm, he could convince Christine to back off and let my team be judged on their merits instead of my unskilled detective work.

  “I think he was going to do a walk of the stage to look at spacing options. He might still be there.”

  Well, there was only one way to find out.

  Leaving Larry to watch the scene from Chicago currently being acted out by two master class students, I headed in search of Devlyn. I found him in the stage-right wings, looking up into the rafters.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked, stepping onto the stage.

  Devlyn glanced at me and then back up into the space above the stage. “I just talked to the lighting designer for the competition.”

  “And?”

  He frowned. “I was assured that yesterday’s mishap wouldn’t happen again and that a member of the theater staff will be standing in the fly rail whenever the building is open to make sure of that.”

  I squinted into the dimly lit wings for the ropes and pulleys that raise and lower set and light battens from the rafters down toward the stage. I spotted the locking rails and arbors for the fly system against the far wall stage right. “The lights that fell were attached to the fly system?”

  “That’s what it sounded like.”

  I walked past the curtains into the wing space for a closer look. Leaning against the back wall near the fly rail was a gray-haired guy in jeans and a T-shirt. His eyes narrowed. He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and watched as I took another step closer. This must be the staff in charge of watching to make sure the fly system was secure.

  Changing directions, I walked up to the man and smiled. “I just wanted to say thank you for guarding the fly rail and keeping my students safe. Knowing that someone accidently unlocked one of the operating lines and caused a batten to fall to the stage yesterday is kind of scary.” I held out my hand. “I’m Paige Marshall, the head coach for Prospect Glen’s Music in Motion team.”

  The wariness faded from the security guy’s eyes as he took my hand and shook it. “Thomas Pluck. I’m sure whoever freed the operating lines didn’t understand the implications of what they were doing. Teenagers can be too curious for their own good and forget their actions have consequences. I should know. I raised three of my own. Don’t worry.” He grinned, which gave me a great view of whatever bits of Tom’s breakfast were still clinging to his teeth. Ick. “We’re going to make sure that no one without authorization will come near the fly rail for the next couple days.”

  “You have no idea how much better I feel knowing that. Thanks again,” I lied. With one last look at the fly rail, I headed back toward Devlyn, feeling far worse than wh
en I’d walked over. Was I grateful someone was guarding the rail so no other lights fell? You betcha. But hearing that it wasn’t a broken cable but operator error that caused the batten to fall made me queasy.

  I supposed it was possible one of the high school kids was messing around backstage and somehow accidentally released the batten, but I doubted it. Most of the kids at this competition were upper classmen. They’d spent a great deal of time in theaters. Most if not all would understand at least in theory how a fly system worked. Would they risk all the work they’d done to get to this competition by playing around with the rail? I guessed it was possible. Still . . .

  “I know that expression.” Devlyn crossed his arms over his chest.

  “What expression?”

  “You think the falling lights are related to LuAnn Freeman’s death.”

  “No.” Maybe. After all, the Central Memphis team had just left this stage when the lights fell. Devlyn and I weren’t here when it happened, but now I wished I had been to see where LuAnn was standing when the lights plummeted to the ground. Was she safely in the wings or had she been crossing the stage? Was the dropping of the batten an accident or had the person manipulating the operating line been aiming for a specific target? No one but the person responsible could answer the last question, but I was pretty sure I could find someone who could tell me where LuAnn was when the light bar fell.

  I noticed Devlyn still watching me. “You don’t believe me?”

  “I know you.” He took a step closer. “Something is going on in that beautiful head of yours. Are you going to tell me what it is?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am.” Or at least part of it. Taking Devlyn’s hand, I led him onto the stage so Tom the tech security guard couldn’t hear our conversation. After glancing around to make sure no one else was in sight, I shared my conversation with Christine.

  “She said what?”

  “Shhh.” I looked into the wings where Tom was busy picking at his teeth. Too bad he didn’t have dental floss. He could use it.