Well, that and the fact that they were both on board with helping me break into the theater.
We made the drive in record time and the parking lot to the theater was empty. It was well past dark and the entire area was mostly devoid of human traffic except for the very occasional car passing by. I instructed Ida Belle to park in the garage across the street, just in case one of the actors drove by, saw the vehicle, and went to check and see if someone was inside.
We donned our gloves and headed across the street. I made quick work of the back door lock and eased the door open, having already spotted the lack of alarm system when we were there before. We slipped inside and hurried down the hall and to the front of the stage where all the props for the play were collected, ready to be loaded on the truck the following morning.
“We need to find that ugly painting with Jesus playing poker,” I said.
We spread out and started going through the wrapped items, cutting through the Bubble Wrap on anything that might contain paintings. It was going to be a mess to clean up, but if I was right, the play was about to close before it even opened.
“I found something!” Gertie said.
Ida Belle and I rushed over to the large cardboard box she’d opened and peered inside. Several paintings were wrapped and inserted into dividers. We all grabbed paintings and began unwrapping them.
“Here!” Ida Belle said and held up the painting.
I pulled the palette knife that I’d swiped from the arts and crafts booth out of my pocket and told Ida Belle to lay the painting across the box.
“Are you sure about this?” Gertie asked.
“No,” I said. “But that’s why we’re here.”
I inspected the painting and found one corner where the paint appeared to be fresher than the others. I scraped a tiny bit of paint off. Underneath was more paint, but a different color and with a shiny coat on top. I kept scraping until I had a two-inch section exposed.
Gertie’s eyes widened. “You were right.”
Ida Belle shook her head. “Ingenious.”
“Yes. It is.”
A woman’s voice sounded behind us and we whirled around to find Brigette standing in the doorway, clutching a pistol that was leveled at me.
“It’s a shame you were too smart for your own good,” she said. “Just like your friend Gil. If only he would have minded his own business, but he had to play detective. I should have never given him that role.”
I made a split-second assessment of my options, but they weren’t good. I could dive behind some of the furniture, risking that Brigette wasn’t a great shot, and probably come out okay. But that left Ida Belle and Gertie in the line of fire. My weapon was at my waist, but I couldn’t pull it before Brigette got off a shot of her own.
My only option was to buy time to think of another option.
“You’re the one who broke into Gil’s house and attacked Tiffany,” I said. “He had a painting like this commissioned and swapped them out because he suspected you were smuggling something much more valuable underneath. You realized he was onto you and killed him, but you had to recover the painting.”
She smiled. “I couldn’t very well wait around until that trashy wife of his had a garage sale, now could I? Besides, the buyer is expecting his merchandise this week.”
“You dumped the car in a Sinful bayou, figuring if it was found, that would throw suspicion on Tiffany,” I said. “But when his death was labeled a carjacking, you thought, even better. Until they found the car.”
“My one miscalculation,” she said. “If I’d known his death would have been so easily labeled as ancillary to another crime, I would have disposed of the car differently and it would have never been found.”
“But since it turned into a murder investigation, you planted the gun in the attic after you knocked Tiffany out, figuring the police had already done a search of the house but might have missed something in the attic that they might find on a second sweep,” I said.
“Clever girl,” she said. “It’s a shame you couldn’t find something else to do with all that talent.”
“What I can’t understand is why you killed Gwyn,” I said.
Gertie and Ida Belle both gasped.
She raised her eyebrows. “Can’t you? As soon as she heard that the investigation had gone from carjacking to murder, she could barely string a sentence together. Maybe it was just because she had no backbone and was worried about something happening to her, or maybe she was upset that her white knight had been intentionally killed. But maybe it was because Gil had told her his suspicions about me, and that was something I couldn’t risk.”
“Gwyn didn’t know anything,” I said. “You killed an innocent woman for no reason.”
“Let’s not pretend that Gwyn was an innocent,” she said. “She was up to her neck in an affair with Gil. If she’d had morals, she’d wouldn’t have been in that position and then she’d still be alive.”
“So it’s her fault you killed her?” I asked. “That’s some interesting logic. I wonder how it will stand up in court.”
“Fortunately for me, it doesn’t have to,” she said. “Now drop that palette knife and move away from the painting. I can’t afford to get blood on all those props, especially as you’ve removed the plastic wrapping from so many.”
A faint click sounded from somewhere on stage and we all jerked our heads in that direction just in time to see a giant bird on a rope swing out from the ceiling on stage and straight toward the auditorium.
Brigette jumped back as the bird flew past and I yelled at Gertie and Ida Belle to dive. Brigette’s finger tightened on the trigger and she squeezed off a round. I flung the palette knife at her, then dived behind the box of paintings. A round of bullets sprayed around me and I covered my head and face as glass burst everywhere.
Then there was silence.
I pulled out my weapon and prayed that Ida Belle and Gertie were tucked safely away behind boxes, then inched forward and peered around the corner of the tattered box I was hiding behind. I blinked once in disbelief, then rose.
The palette knife had lodged in Brigette’s cheek and her hands were locked around it, but she wasn’t moving. I rushed over to check her pulse but it was strong. She’d either passed out from pain or fear or cracked her head when she fell. I grabbed some rope I’d removed from a crate and tied her wrists together, then kicked the gun across the room after I frisked her to make sure she didn’t have another weapon hidden somewhere.
No more activity had come from the stage area, which was eerily silent, but I knew someone lurked in the shadows. I shifted my attention to the stage and aimed my weapon. Someone had let that bird loose and I couldn’t be certain they were friendly, even though it had helped me.
“Come out!” I yelled. “If I have to pursue you, it’s not going to end well.”
The curtains moved at the back of the stage and Lil stepped out, all color drained from her face, and her hands above her head.
“Don’t shoot,” she said. “I heard everything. I called the police but I was afraid they wouldn’t get here in time. I thought if I distracted Brigette, you could get away.”
I lowered my weapon and Ida Belle and Gertie popped up from their hiding places.