Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Natalie might as well have been at this get to know you party naked. That's how she felt without her cell phone while being many, many miles away from her boyfriend and her ghosts.

Thank goodness Harper, and even Alice, were there. Natalie stayed glued to them as they entered the lobby of the theater.

The large space was appointed with ornate architectural details which Natalie—no expert—assumed were appropriate to the era in which it was built.

The ornate decor, heavy with gold and filigree, was dominated by a sweeping grand central staircase that led to the upper level. While the lower level had been set-up with all the trappings of a cocktail party—if cocktail parties had multiple camera crews.

"Ooo. Shrimp." With that exclamation, Alice motored off toward the buffet table.

Harper watched her go. "Should we follow her?"

"How much trouble can she get into?" Natalie asked but reevaluated that assumption when she saw Alice mound more shrimp than could possibly fit onto the tiny plate clutched in her arthritic fingers.

"I guess her consuming too much shrimp is better than too much alcohol," Harper commented.

"With Alice, it's more likely to be shrooms or pot we need to watch out for." Natalie laughed.

Harper chuckled. "That's the truth. You think she brought any with her?"

"God, I hope not." Natalie shook her head.

She had enough to deal with without having to babysit Alice. Or Harper. Or getting accidentally drugged herself from unknowingly drinking some of Alice's signature tea or lemonade spiked with one drug or another.

Although now Alice had turned to cannabis gummies, formulated with melatonin and lavender to help with sleep. They'd heard all about it on the long drive and about how she couldn't sleep without them so there was a good chance there were some smuggled here in that big suitcase of hers.

That might not be a bad thing. Alice's pot gummies might be the only thing that would allow Natalie to sleep this week. If she could allow herself to sleep here. She wasn't sure how she felt about being even a little incapacitated amid a strange ghost population now that she knew the cast would be sleeping here. In the theater.

Before the party, they'd gotten a look at their rooms for the duration of the show.

Thank goodness there were dressing rooms for the performers' use, and incorporated into those were bathrooms with showers. Even so, a cast of eight, living together, eating together, sleeping together, here in the theater for a week—it was going to be interesting.

She, Harper and Alice had been put together in one of the multiple dressing rooms on site. The room was clean and white, brightly lined with mirrors, and now also with three roll-away beds. It was apparently one of the chorus dressing rooms and located on the mezzanine level of the theater.

Living here in the theater, day and night, made her little apartment in the back of the shop in the historic train depot seem luxurious in comparison.

The cohabitation with the other cast members didn't bother Natalie much. Mainly because she was more concerned with the spirit population of the theater.

She might never get the image of the female spirit laid out on one of the beds, apparently napping, until one of the crew tossed Alice's suitcase right on top of her. The spirit's blood-curdling scream still echoed through her mind.

"I suppose we should mingle with the rest of the cast and get to know the crew better," Harper said.

"I suppose," Natalie agreed, but she barely comprehended what she was agreeing to because one hundred percent of her focus was drawn to the party's newest arrival.

Making a grand entrance that was no doubt intended to catch the attention of every being in the room—living and dead—the woman who swept down the staircase looked like she was ready for her close-up. No doubt she was, draped in ethereal clothing made of a fabric that seemed somehow luminescent as it shone with gold and all the colors of the rainbow depending on how it caught the light.

Madame Letisha.

None of the other cast members or crew had felt the need to use the grand staircase. They'd used the elevator to come down from the upper level.

Natalie barely contained the obscenity-laced commentary that ran through her head and almost escaped out her mouth. The only reason it didn't come out was because when she spun to Harper, she saw the wire and microphone and remembered everything they said would be captured and possibly used on the show.

She didn't need to say anything anyway.

Harper's gaze was pinned to Letisha as she said low, "Look who's here. Wanna bet she isn't sharing a room? In fact, I bet she's in that single dressing room on the stage level labeled "Star" with its own private shower and toilet."

"On the stage level, you said?" Which would make it extra ridiculous Letisha had gone upstairs just to come back down.

Harper nodded. "It's marked on the map they gave us."

Map? Natalie should really have read the materials. But it didn't matter because she knew one thing for certain without any papers or maps—Letisha was all about image. And that would make it even more satisfying when they knocked her off her pedestal.

Alice, with her laden plate, wandered over.

"Coconut shrimp," she announced, holding one up between her two gnarly fingers. Then she tipped her head toward the staircase. "See who's trying to make a grand entrance? Boy, is she going to be fun to take down."

Maybe she and Alice were more alike than Natalie had realized.