Chapter Four

Thursday, December 18, 1997

12:00 PM

children who were assembled backstage. "My name is Shelley Hunter,
and I'm the center director. This gentleman here-" Shelley indicated
the short, balding man standing beside her. "-is my brother Brad. He's
the choreographer for this production."

"The choreographer for every production, my dear," Brad said dryly.
Shelley's face reddened slightly.

"He's never very nice," Jenna whispered, and Amanda shushed her.

"That's what I meant to say, of course," Shelley said, shooting a
sideways glance at her brother. "And of course there's our Janitor,
Mark Townley-he isn't here at the moment, but you can generally find
him around. There's also the children's teacher, Lillian Jager. She
seems to be running late, but she should be here shortly."

Hunter. Lee thought back to what Francine had said about Nimrod. It
could be a coincidence, though. Hunter was a pretty common surname-and

Jager was the German word for hunter.

Shelley continued. "We want you to know that we couldn't do this
without you, and I'm sure your children appreciate you taking time out
of your busy schedules. Our volunteer group is rather small at the
moment, but hopefully more people will join us."

"Some hopes," the blond woman on the other side of Lee muttered. Lee
recognized her as Debbie Morgan-her daughter Terri was in Jenna's
class. Terri was standing apart from the other children, her arms
crossed and a sulky expression on her face.

"As a special thank-you for your efforts, I've also brought some fudge
brownies and a variety of finger sandwiches that I made myself,"
Shelley said, smiling at the applause that rang out after that
statement. "Now are there any questions before I hand out the
assignments to the volunteers?"

"I have a question," Debbie said. "My daughter has the part of Clara,
and since she's the star in this production, shouldn't she have her
own dressing room?"

"Mom you're embarrassing me," Terri Morgan whined. Lee saw Amanda
rolling her eyes and he smiled.

"Mrs. Morgan, there are many stars in this production and Terri is
only one of them," Shelley explained patiently. "We have limited funds
and only three dressing rooms to be split between girls, boys, and
adults. I'm sure you'll understand our position."

Debbie Morgan's lips thinned. "Ms. Hunter, my daughter is a
professional. She's done fashion shows, beauty pageants and even some
print ads. She's not used to working under these primitive conditions."

"Well if that's the case perhaps your daughter would be happier with a
professional production," Shelley said firmly. Debbie glared at the
woman but kept silent. "Now I'm going to call out a list of jobs that
need doing-please raise your hands if you'd like to assist in that
department."

3:30 PM

Debbie's voice startled Lee, who accidentally smashed his thumb with
the hammer while nailing the cornerstone of the scenery flat. He
turned around to look at the blond woman. "Do you mind?" he said.

Debbie smiled. "Sorry," she said, not really sounding sorry at all. "I
thought my husband was supposed to be helping out in this department."

"Well he was," Lee said. "But he said he had some errands to run."
Personally Lee thought that Jeff Morgan probably took the opportunity
to get away from his overbearing wife whenever he could. "Aren't you
supposed to be helping Amanda with the costumes?"

"That's so boring," Debbie said. "Besides, I'm not very good at
sewing. My talents lie in-other directions."

I just bet they do, Lee thought. "Want me to give your husband a
message when he gets back?" he said.

"No," Debbie said. "It's not important. I was just wondering,
though-can I get you anything?" The woman came closer, draping her
long fingers over Lee's shoulder. "Something to eat or drink, maybe? I
know there's not much to eat since your wife accidentally knocked over
the brownies and sandwiches, but I could always pick something up."

"Thanks, but I'm fine," Lee said. He pulled his shoulder out of her
grasp. Debbie's hands didn't give up, however, and simply moved to rub
the back of his neck.

"A growing man like you needs food," she murmured. "Won't you let me
help you?"

Lee dropped his hammer and stepped away, looking into the woman's
face. "Mrs. Morgan," he said firmly, "I think you'll find that I have
all the help I need."

Debbie's blue eyes flashed with anger for a moment, but then she was
all smiles again. "You're Jenna Stetson's father, aren't you?"

"That's right," Lee said.

"Jenna's a very pretty girl," Debbie said. "And she dances very well."

"Thank you," Lee said, wondering where this conversation was going. He
didn't have very long to wait.

"It's just so unfortunate about her shoulders," Debbie said.

"Her shoulders?" Lee repeated. "Just what do you mean?"

"Jenna has your shoulders, Lee," Debbie said. A little smirk played
across her pink-painted lips. "She'll never make a good dancer with
those shoulders. Now my Terri has nice narrow shoulders-"

Lee took a deep breath, ready to defend his daughter and tell Debbie
Morgan a few things about her Terri' when Amanda's voice sounded
behind them.

"Oh hello, Debbie," she said. "I was wondering where you'd got to. I
just wanted to tell you that Lisa's mother is altering Terri's costume."

Debbie's jaw dropped open. "Lisa's mother?" she squeaked. "Oh please
say you didn't let that woman-excuse me please." Without another word
Debbie disappeared down the backstage corridor.

"Thought that would get rid of her," Amanda said to Lee with a smile.
"How's it going?"

"Better now that you're here," Lee wrapped his arms around Amanda,
kissing her briefly. "I wasn't sure how much more of Debbie I could
take. Do you know what she said about Jenna?"

"I can guess," Amanda said. "I've been on enough PTA committees with
her to know what Debbie can be like. Speaking of which, isn't her
husband supposed to be helping you with these flats?"

"He's supposed to be," Lee said. "But Jeff said he had some errands to
run and took off."

"So you did all this yourself?" Amanda said.

"Most of it," Lee said. "The frames were already laid out for me-all I
really had to do was nail them together. Even the muslin's already
cut and measured."

"You'll need help stretching that over the frames," Amanda said.
"Here, let me." Together they carefully rolled the muslin over one of
the frames-Amanda pulling it taut while Lee fastened the fabric to the
wood with a staple gun.

"How's Jenna?" Lee said.

"Well they went through her dance routine and now she's having her
dress altered-the hem needs to be let out a little to match with the
other girls," Amanda said. "I promised her that we'd get her a burger
from Marvin's later for lunch-she's still upset that I knocked the
sandwich out of her hand."

"That was quick thinking to knock over the rest of the food too," Lee
said. "But the brownies and sandwiches were probably harmless,"
Catching Amanda's expression, he said. "I know-we can't afford to take
chances."

"We can't," Amanda said. "And it's not just Jenna, Lee-it's the other
children too. That's why I've also volunteered to do the catering for
dress rehearsal and opening night. I figure that way I'll be able to
keep an eye on things and if anyone tries to contaminate the food I'll
spot it."

"Good move," Lee said.

"I do find it hard to believe that Shelley Hunter could be plotting to
poison children, though," Amanda said. "She's been with the community
center since Jenna started ballet lessons. But the name Hunter is
connected to Nimrod."

"Well if we're going by that, Jager is the German word for hunter."
Lee said. Lillian had finally shown up, albeit an hour late. Lee
could hear the woman on the stage, clapping her hands as she led some
of the older students through their choreography.

Amanda groaned. "This isn't going to be easy, is it?" She said. "I
mean you have Mr. and Mrs. Hunter, Mrs. Jager, the adult principal
dancers-even that janitor, Mark Townsend is a suspect."

"Townley," Lee said. "And I haven't even seen him yet."

"I did," Amanda said. "He was sweeping the hallway and he nodded to
me. He seems like a nice elderly gentleman."

"Yeah, seems being the operative word," Lee said. "What about the
other volunteers?"

"I really doubt that," Amanda said. "We've known Lisa's parents for
years, and Debbie's a classic stage mom. I can't see her doing
anything to sabotage her daughter's starring role."

"Neither can I," Lee said as they rolled the muslin over the last
frame. "But the way her husband took off is just a little suspicious.
I'm going to keep my eye on him just in case."

"I've told you before!" Lillian Jager was practically yelling as she
strode through the backstage area. Mr. Hunter was following closely
behind, both of them oblivious to Lee and Amanda's presence. "You
either simplify your choreography or I'll-"

"Or you'll what?" Brad Hunter said. "I'll have you know that I've
choreographed for The New York City Ballet as well as the English
National Ballet, Lillian. I'm not just some yokel, and I'm not about
to dumb down the routines just because your dancers aren't good enough
to keep up with them. Look at me, woman!" Grabbing Lillian's arm, Mr.
Hunter turned the other woman around to face him.

Lillian Jager jerked her arm out of Brad's grasp. Her face was filled
with fury. "Don't forget, Hunter-I know why you were forced to leave
those ballet companies-and I'm sure that the press would love to hear
the details. Push me too hard and I'll make you into a pariah. Do we
understand one another?"

Mr. Hunter's face was dark red. "I'll have you know-" he began, and
then suddenly seemed to notice Lee and Amanda standing nearby.

"Excuse me," he said stiffly. "We're having a little difference of
opinion." Lee watched in silence as Mr. Hunter disappeared down the
corridor with Lillian following.

"We need to keep an eye on those two," Lee said. Amanda nodded. "What
do we do with these flats now?"

Amanda grabbed a nearby paint bucket and two brushes, "Now we just
need to brush this over the muslin and once it dries someone can paint
the scenery."

"You're pretty good at this, you know," Lee said.

"Well I used to do theater in college," Amanda reminded him.

Lee took the brush with a grin and leaned towards his wife. "Anyone
ever tell you that you're pretty useful to have around, Mrs. Stetson?"

"I can think of a few people who've said that," Amanda said, leaning
in for a kiss.

SMK SMK SMK SMK

"The LORD shall laugh at him: for he seeth that his day is coming,"
the figure said. He removed the cell phone from the holder on his
belt, flipping it open and dialing a familiar number.

"Yes, this is me," the figure said, removing the wallet from his
pocket. He'd found it in the woman's shoulder-bag and planned on
returning it before she knew it had ever been missing. "I have the
information that we've been seeking."

There was more laughter from below. His rage grew even stronger as he
listened. They wouldn't be laughing too much longer, the figure
thought. Not once the suffering began.

TBC