Page 7

Kira and Cameron screamed. Their voices jolted Tempest out of her stunned inaction, and she scanned the room carefully. It was almost exactly as it had been before the lights went out. Except for the dead body of Lucas Cruz that lay next to the steamer trunk.

No, that wasn’t the only difference.

“Sanjay?” Tempest called out. There was no answer. Where had he gone?

Ivy stumbled backward and crashed into Cameron.

“He’s dead,” Kira whispered.

“He can’t be dead,” Milton said. “He’s an actor. He’s acting. Lucas, this isn’t funny!”

Enid swore and knelt at the body. “ How? ” she murmured, looking up at them. “The gun… It wasn’t real, was it?”

“Of course not,” Tempest answered. Could she be sure, though?

“I fired the gun,” Milton whispered, his face a pale imitation of the peppy actor he’d been minutes before. “God, it was me. I swear I didn’t know it could kill someone. It’s a toy!”

The gun lay on the floor a few feet away. It was the same prop gun Tempest recognized. A cap gun. A real bullet couldn’t have been used in that little plastic gun. It wasn’t possible, even if someone had murderous intentions.

“That gun doesn’t take real bullets,” said Enid. “It’s impossible.”

What was even more impossible was that only moments before, Lucas had been Sanjay. That’s why he’d insisted on finding the perfect sweater. He’d planned this swap.

“Sanjay?” Tempest called out again. “Something has gone horribly wrong with your trick.” Her mouth was dry. What had Sanjay done? “Where are you hiding?”

This had to be a trick gone wrong. What had the two men been up to? If this had been a bullet-catch trick, they’d have wanted an audience. Not this. Who had shot Lucas? It couldn’t have been Sanjay. Not even as an accident.

“Sanjay!” Kira called with a much sharper tone. “Get your ass out here!”

“The police,” said Cameron. His voice shook. “We need to call—”

“You took our phones,” said Milton as he patted down his pockets and realized they were empty.

“So people wouldn’t cheat and look up clues online.” Cameron spoke the words like a zombie. He was in shock.

Ivy shook his shoulders. “It’s all right, Cam. You have the key to the cabinet. You can get our phones.”

Everyone filed out of the living room and into the kitchen.

Tempest knew that swaps could happen so quickly on stage that the audience would never suspect a thing. But why did Sanjay and Lucas arrange this? Both men had similar thick black hair, and similar medium builds, both around Tempest’s five foot ten, so it made sense they’d work together as stage doubles. But why ?

“I’m going to be sick.” Kira gulped. She rushed toward the bathroom, but Milton grabbed her arm.

“We shouldn’t go anywhere alone,” he said.

“You want to go with her to the bathroom ?” Enid looked sharply at him.

“Well, er, no, but none of us should be alone. I didn’t kill him with that prop gun. Meaning—”

“Oh God.” Kira broke free and ran the last few steps to the bathroom adjoining the kitchen, barely making it before she threw up. She hadn’t taken the time to close the door behind her. Which seemed to satisfy Milton for her safety, but wasn’t great for Tempest’s own stomach.

“We can see her.” Enid winced. “And hear her. Satisfied?”

Milton still looked concerned. Did he think they had to keep an eye on her because he was worried she could be next, or because he thought she could be a killer?

Cameron’s keys clattered to the kitchen floor. His hands were shaking, so it wasn’t surprising he was having trouble unlocking the cabinet that contained their phones.

Milton steadied himself on the counter. “I fired the shot.” He took three loud, short breaths. He was hyperventilating.

Enid spotted it, too. “No, you didn’t.” She spoke gently and put her hand on his shoulder. “You used the toy gun as planned. A plastic prop. It wasn’t your fault.”

“You’re kind to say so,” he said, his breathing still clipped, “but do you think it’s possible I could have fired a real bullet from that thing? Why did I ever think becoming an actor to impress my daughter was a good idea?”

“Let’s sit down on one of the dining chairs over here,” Enid said gently, though her voice had a faint tremor as well. The kitchen opened up into the dining room through another open archway. The living room wasn’t visible from the dining room, but everyone was now in the kitchen or dining room within sight of one another. Even the bathroom door was in sight of the kitchen.

Cameron fumbled the keys once more. They jingled as they dropped to the kitchen’s linoleum tiles.

Tempest turned her attention away from Milton and back to the cabinet. “Do I need to smash that lock?” It wouldn’t take much to open it.

“A landline,” said Enid. “I know Howard had a landline somewhere around here.” She stood up and started rummaging through the large bureaus of the dining room. Tempest didn’t remember seeing a phone when they’d worked on the house, so perhaps it was tucked away? She opened a wood-and-glass cabinet displaying dishes and knickknacks.

Cameron called after them without looking up from the locked kitchen cabinet, “I got rid of Harold’s old phone. The line was shut off after he passed away.”

“I’ll open it.” Ivy took the dropped keys and had the cabinet door open within five seconds. She hastily distributed phones while Enid and Milton came back into the room muttering about the foolishness of younger generations giving up landlines. At least the common cause seemed to have stopped Milton from hyperventilating and passing out.

“I’ll call.” Enid snatched her phone. “Everything at Gray House is my responsibility.”

They all looked expectantly at Enid as she dialed 9-1-1, their heavy breathing broken up by Kira’s dry heaves. She joined them with a sour expression as Enid explained the situation to the dispatcher.

“They’ll be here in a few minutes,” Enid said.

“Where the hell is Sanjay?” Kira asked.

Where, indeed. They trudged back to the living room—an empty living room.

The body was gone.