They were. The matching armoires were oak, with the symbols of comedy and tragedy carved on each side and on the doors. They were a gift to Sage when she was here, Henri said reverently. A patron of the arts was so delighted that he had these made for her!
Jane peeked beyond. The bathroom was recently updated and had a tiled shower and whirlpool bath. The color scheme throughout was crimson and white with black edging.
This is really lovely. Thank you, Jane said again.
Its our best suite! Henri gestured expansively around him.
How come neither of you are in here? Jane asked, smiling. And what about your stars? I dont want to put anyone out.
Oh, Jennie said. Our stars tend to be superstitious. Theyre in the other rooms on this level. With a quick grin she added, And Henri and I are quite happy in our own rooms...
Jane waited for her to say more.
Henri spoke instead. Sage McCormick... His voice trailed off. Well, theater folk are a superstitious bunch. I mean, you know about her, dont you?
I know a little, Jane said. She disappeared, didnt she?
From this room, Jennie explained. Theres all kinds of speculation. Some people believe she was a laudanum addict, and that she wandered off and met with a bad end at the hands of outlaws or Indians. Laudanum was used like candy back then. Lord knows how many people died from overusing it. Like todays over-the-counter pills. Too much and
And some people believe she simply left Lily with her new lovesupposedly she intended to elopeand changed her identity, Henri said impatiently. Prior to that, shed met and married a local man and they had a child together.
Really? But she still kept her room at the Gilded Lily? Jane asked.
Of course. She was the star. Henri spoke as if this was all that needed to be said.
Anyway, the last time anyone reported seeing her was when she retired to this room after a performance, Henri went on.
Her esteemed rendition of Antigone! Jennie said.
What about the husband? Was he a suspect? Jane asked.
Her husband was downstairs in the bar, waiting for her. He was with a group of local ranchers and businessmen. One of her costars went up to get her, and Sage was gone. Just...gone. No one could find her, and she was never seen again, Jennie told her.
Oh, dear! Youre not superstitious, are you? Henri asked. I understood that youre a forensic artist but a law enforcement official, too.
Jane nodded. Ill be fine here.
Well, settle in, then. And, please, when youre ready, come on down. Well be in the theaterIll be giving notes on last nights performance. Join us whenever youre ready.
I wouldnt want to interrupt a rehearsal.
Oh, you wont be interrupting. The show is going well. We opened a few weeks ago, but I have to keep my actors off the streets, you know? Youll get to meet the cast, although the crew wont be there. This is for the performers. As Jennie mentioned, the cast lives at the Gilded Lily while performing, so youll meet your neighbors.
Thank you, Jane said, and glanced at her watch. Sheriff Trent is supposed to be picking me up. Ill be down in a little while.
Oh! And heres your key, Henri said, producing an old metal key. The only people here are the cast and crew
And bartenders and servers and a zillion other people whove come to see the show or have a drink, Jennie added drily. Use your key.
I will, Jane promised.
Henri and Jennie left the room. Jane closed the door behind them and stood still, gazing around. Hello? she said softly. If youre here, I look forward to meeting you, Sage. What a beautiful name, by the way.
There was no response to her words. She shrugged, opened her bag and began to take out her clothing, going into the dressing room to hang her things in one of the armoires. She placed her makeup bag on the dressing table there, walked into the bathroom and washed her face. Back in the bedroom, she set up her laptop on the breakfast table near the balcony. Never sure if a place would have Wi-Fi, she always brought her own connector.
Jane decided she needed to know more about Sage McCormick, and keyed in the name. She was astounded by the number of entries that appeared before her eyes. She went to one of the encyclopedia sites, assuming shed find more truth than scandal there.
Jane read through the information: Sage had been born in New York City, and despite her societys scorn for actresses and her excellent family lineage, shed always wanted to act. To that end, shed left a magnificent mansion near Central Park to pursue the stage. Shed sold the place when she became the last surviving member of her family. Apparently aware that her choice of profession would brand her as wanton, she lived up to the image, marrying one of her costars and then divorcing him for the embrace of a stagehand. She flouted conventionbut was known to be kind to everyone around her. She had been twenty-five when shed come out to the Gilded Lily in 1870. By that point, shed already appeared in numerous plays in New York, Chicago and Boston. Critics and audiences alike had adored her. In Lily, shed instantly fallen in love with local entrepreneur Alexander Cahill, married him almost immediatelyand acted her way through the pregnancy that had resulted in the birth of her only child, Lily Cahill. On the night of May 1, 1872, after a performance of Antigone, Sage had gone to her room at the Gilded Lily Theater and disappeared from history. It was presumed that shed left her husband and child to escape with a new lover, an outlaw known as Red Marston, as Red disappeared that same evening and was never seen in Lily again, nor did any reports of him ever appear elsewhere. Her contemporaries believed that the pair had fled to Mexico to begin their lives anew.
Interesting, Jane murmured aloud. So, Sage, did you run across the border and live happily ever after?
She heard the old-fashioned clock on the dresser tick and nothing else. And she remembered that shed promised to go downstairs. The sheriff was due to pick her up in thirty minutes, so if she was going to meet the cast, she needed to move.
Running into the dressing room, she ran her brush through her hair, then hurried out. As she opened the door to exit into the hall, she was startled to see a slim, older woman standing there with a tray in her hands. The tray held a small plug-in coffeepot, and little packs of coffee, tea, creamers and sugar.
Hello! the woman said. She looked at Jane as though terrified.
Hi, Im Jane Everett. Come on in, and thank you.
The woman swallowed. III... Please dont make me go in that room! she said.
Jane tried not to smile. Let me take that, then. Its fine. You dont have to come in.
The woman pressed the tray into Janes arms, looking vastly relieved. Jane brought it in and set it on the dresser. Shed find a plug in the morning.
When she turned around, the woman was still standing there. She wore a blue dress and apron and had to be one of the housekeepers.
Thank you, Jane said again.
Suddenly, the woman stuck out her hand. Im Elsie Coburn. If you need anything, just ask me.
Elsie, nice to meet you, Jane said, shaking her hand. She couldnt help asking, How did this room get so clean?
When she turned around, the woman was still standing there. She wore a blue dress and apron and had to be one of the housekeepers.
Thank you, Jane said again.
Suddenly, the woman stuck out her hand. Im Elsie Coburn. If you need anything, just ask me.
Elsie, nice to meet you, Jane said, shaking her hand. She couldnt help asking, How did this room get so clean?
Oh. Elsie blushed and glanced down. I make the two girls clean this room. They do it together. Theyre okay as long as they dont work alone. Bess was in here one day and the door slammed on her and none of us could open it. Then it opened on its own, so...well, we dont have to clean it that often, you know? No one stays in this room. One of those ghost shows brought a cast and crew in here and the producer was going to stay in the room all night but he ran out.... People dont stay in that room. They just dont.
Oh, well, Im sorry that my coming here caused distress.
Elsie shook her head. No, no, were happy to have you. If you dont mind...please dont mention that you had to bring your own tray in.
Of course not, Jane assured her. Why did the producer of the ghost show run out in the middle of the night?
He said she was standing over his bed, that she touched him, that
She? You mean Sage McCormick?
Elsie nodded.
But what made him think she wanted to hurt him?
What? Elsie was obviously mystified.
Jane smiled. I thought ghost shows tried to prove that places were haunted.
This whole town is haunted. Bad things, really bad things, have happened over the years. The ghost-show people got all kinds of readings on their instruments. And the Old Jail next door! People leave there, too, even though they dont get their money back if they do. This place is...its scary, Agent Everett. Very scary.
But you live and work here, Jane said gently.
Im from here, and I dont tease the ghosts. I respect them. Theyre on Main Street, and theyre all around. I keep my eyes glued to where Im going, and thats it. I do my work and I go home, and if I hear a noise, I go the other way. She rubbed her hands on her apron. Well, a pleasure to meet you. And were glad youre here.
Me, too. And dont worry about cleaning the roomno one has to clean it while Im here. Ill just ask you to bring me fresh towels every couple of days. Hows that?
Elsie looked as if she might kiss her.
She nodded vigorously. Thank you, miss. Thank you. I mean, thank you, Agent Everett.
Jane is fine.
Flushing, Elsie said, Jane. She turned and disappeared down the hall, heading for the stairs. Jane closed her door, locking it behind her as shed been told to do.
* * *
When Sloan arrived at the Gilded Lily, the servers had yet to come in for the night. He had to knock on the doorsthe solid doors behind the latticed ones that had been preserved to give the place its old-time appearanceto gain entry. The bar didnt open until five.
Jennie let him in, smiling as she did. Jennie was always in a good mood. Sloan, hi. Youre here for Jane?
So...Agent Everett was already on a first-name basis with people at the Gilded Lily. But then again, was she like most agents, or was she an artistwith the credentials to work on FBI cases? He gave himself a mental kick; even though hed made the call to Logan that had brought her to town, Sloan wasnt pleased about her being here, but he wasnt sure why.
Yes, he needed to find out who the skull belonged to. But logically, in his opinion at least, the skull should have been sent off to a lab where such things were done or to the experts at a museum. In the endafter arguing with Henri Coque about procedureSloan had been the one to call Logan to ask for a forensic artist and Logan had sent her. Hed trusted Logan to send him a good artist, but he was also aware that Logan was a different kind of lawman.
Sloan was, too.
He and Logan had shared secrets that they hadnt let on to others. Working cases together, theyd both had occasion to follow leads because theyd spoken to the dead.
Sloan didnt walk around interacting with spirits all the time. But thered been occasions... He and Logan had recognized the ability in each other. And theyd been good partners.
True, he sometimes argued that the dead he saw were his particular form of talking to himself. And while it might seem that talking to the dead should solve everything, it didnt work that way. But now Logan wasnt a Ranger anymore; he was a fed. And he was the head of a unit. A special unit that was informally called the Texas Krewe.
Jane Everett was part of that Krewe. Did that mean she shared Logans secrets? Or that she knew about Sloan? He doubted it. Logan never spoke to anyone about anyone elses business. But, somehow, Jane Everett made him uneasy.
Was he worried that she was only an artistand not really much of a law enforcement agent?
Or was he worried that she was an artist and an agent and might find him incompetent?
Hed just had an odd feeling that they needed to get the skull out of Lily. It was almost as if the skull could be a catalyst for bad things to come.
Ridiculous, he told himself. Still, he didnt like it.
But hed been the one to call Logan Raintree.
In keeping with what Sloan knew about his old friend, he wasnt surprised, when hed looked up his recent work, that Logans Krewe worked with strange, supernatural cases.
In fact, it was one reason hed decided to approach him.
Because theres more to this than meets the eye and it may be importantbut do I really want to know? he asked himself. Hed called Logan because he wondered if they might need help from the dead while not wanting it to be true.
Yes, Im here for Agent Everett, he told Jennie.
Come in, she said. The cast is down by the stage apron. Shes been meeting them all.
Sure. Thankfully, there werent any other pressing issues in Lily at the moment.
He followed Jennie into the theater.
The group had gathered around the stage. Valerie Mystro, who had found the skull, was leaning casually against the shows hero, Cy Tyburn, a tall, blond, all-American-looking actor from Kansas. Alice Horton, dark-haired, dark-eyed, sultry and buxom, the shows vamp, was seated on the stage next to Brian Highsmith. Brian was dark-haired, as well; his green eyes bright against the near-black of his hair. Smiling, he appeared to be totally nonevil, although he played the shows villain. Henri looked happy, standing in front of the newcomer, Jane Everett, who was seated next to Alice.
Even in the group of beautiful twenty-to-thirty-year-old actors, Jane Everett stood out. She was seated, so he couldnt judge her height, and she was wearing a typical pantsuitone he might expect to see on a working federal agent. The slight bulge was apparent at her rib cage; she was wearing a shoulder holster and carrying her weapon, which was probably just as regulation as her black pantsuit and white shirt. But she wore her hair loose and it was a striking shade, the deepest auburn hed ever seen. And when she looked up at his arrival, he saw that she had the most unusual eyes he had ever seen, as well. They were amber. Not brown. Not hazel. Amber.
As he entered, she stood. Whatever theyd been discussing, theyd all gone quiet as he walked in.