CHAPTER 21
Save the Last Dance for Me
Once the police took Zinnia Idell away for unlawful possession of a firearm, the haunted-house rehearsal went smoothly, and A Ghoul’s Night Out opened for business. It was a rip-roaring success, with a continuous stream of customers from the moment they opened the doors until they shut them at ten thirty.
At ten thirty-five, Skye was already out of her costume, into her street clothes, and looking for Evie. She found the chairwoman counting the night’s receipts.
Positioning herself between Evie and the ticket booth’s only exit, Skye said, “We need to talk.”
“I told you I’d talk to you when I have time. Didn’t you get my note? Do I need to call Officer Quirk?”
Skye pulled over a chair and sat, continuing to block the doorway. “This won’t take long.” She had no intention of letting Evie leave until the blonde had answered her questions. “And after you hear what I have to say, I doubt you’ll want Quirk involved.”
“What are you talking about?” Evie had shed the gracious demeanor she generally showed the public.
Skye ignored the question, and asked one of her own. “When you and I bumped heads last Friday at the haunted house, why did you run away screaming?”
“Duh.” Evie looked at Skye as if she was an idiot. “I had just seen someone who looked exactly like you lying dead on the ground. I thought you were a ghost.”
“How did you know the woman was dead?”
“I put my compact mirror to her lips.” Evie shuddered. “She wasn’t breathing.”
That made sense—well, as much sense as anything was making in this case. Skye had nearly had a meltdown herself when she’d seen her own spitting image sprawled lifeless on the floor. “Why were you there to begin with?”
“Countess Dracula comes on right in the beginning, so my bit was over. I was using that passageway as a shortcut to get outside to my car.”
“Why were you going to your car?”
“It’s none of your business,” Evie snapped. “You’d better leave me alone, or I’ll have my husband talk the school board into firing you. I’m exhausted and I’d like to finish here and go to bed.”
“Your own or Dr. Paine’s?” Skye had decided a little shock treatment might make Evie more cooperative.
“What are you talking about?” Evie carefully rubber banded a bundle of bills, avoiding Skye’s stare.
“I saw you Thursday afternoon.” Skye raised an eyebrow. “It seemed like quite a thorough checkup.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Of course you do.” Skye noted that Evie was no longer threatening to call the police or have her fired. “You, Dylan Paine, and the dental chair of love. I took a picture with my cell.” Not that Skye had any idea if her phone even had a camera, but Evie didn’t know that.
Evie wilted. “Are you going to tell my husband?”
Skye’s voice was firm. “Not if you answer my questions.”
“What do you want to know?”
“How long have you been having an affair with Dr. Paine?”
Evie counted on her fingers. “About a month.”
“Why would you risk your marriage and everything you’ve worked for on Promfest to have an affair with a man who screws anyone in a skirt?”
“What do you mean? I was the first time he strayed.” Evie’s tone was earnest. “The chemistry is too much for us. Dylan and I both feel bad about cheating on our spouses, but we don’t seem able to stop.”
“I see.” Skye eyed the blonde thoughtfully. Was Evie really that naive? “There has to be another reason.”
“Well.” Evie gave a nervous little laugh. “He did promise to force Annette to give me the chairmanship of Promfest.”
Skye smiled to herself. Now she was getting somewhere. “How was he going to do that?”
“He never said,” Evie answered. “I thought maybe he would threaten to divorce her. Her position in the community was dependent on being married to a successful and wealthy man. She never worked or had a career of her own. Heck, she didn’t even finish her first semester at Joliet Junior College.”
“That’s interesting, because I heard that Annette was threatening to divorce him.” Skye tried to make sense of the conflicting information. “Of course, Dr. Paine could have been just feeding you a line to get into your pants.”
“That’s not how he is.”
“Then maybe his plan to get you the chairmanship required killing Annette. With her out of the way, you’d get the job; in fact, you did get the job when she died.” Skye leaned back in her chair. “It is surprising to see Dr. Paine here tonight. His wife’s only been dead a week. You’d think if he cared for her at all, he’d still be grieving.”
“Linnea insisted he remain active in the Promfest committee.” Evie made a face. “She’s sure that between the sympathy vote and Dylan’s presence, she’s got prom queen in the bag.” Evie stared straight into Skye’s eyes. “Which is why I would never have killed Annette. It would have given Linnea too much of an advantage over Cheyenne.”
Skye raised a shoulder in a half shrug, but silently agreed. She had explained that same fact to Kurt a couple of days ago regarding Nina Miles. “One last question. What did Annette have on you that made you give up the chairmanship?”
“Nothing.” Evie’s pupils dilated.
“Look, I promise, unless it has to do with Annette’s death, I won’t tell anyone your secret.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Evie crossed her arms and refused to meet Skye’s stare. “I don’t have any secrets.”
“Okay. Let me guess. Does it have something to do with your drinking problem?”
“How did you . . . I mean, I don’t have a drinking problem.”
“I’m truly sorry, Evie, but I know that you do.” Skye went into counselor mode. “Did Annette threaten to tell everyone?”
Evie shook her head.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, and once you admit it, you can get some help.” Skye kept her voice gentle.
“Going for help is what got me into trouble.” A tear slipped down Evie’s cheek.
“How?” Skye dug a packet of tissues out of her tote bag and handed one to Evie.
“Annette found out I had been in rehab. She said she’d tell everyone if I didn’t let her be the Promfest chair.”
“Would that have been so bad?” Skye asked. “All the celebrities go to rehab, and everyone says they’re wonderful and brave for admitting they have a problem.”
“Their husbands are not ministers. You Catholics think you can just say you’re sorry and be forgiven. Our religion isn’t like that. We believe alcoholism’s a sin, and that liquor is a tool of the devil. My husband told me to pray my way to sobriety, and that’s exactly what he thinks I did.”
“You mean, your husband doesn’t know you were in rehab?”
“No. I told him I was visiting my parents in Florida—they retired to Naples a few years ago.” Evie inserted the money into a pouch and zipped it shut. “But it was worth it. I haven’t had a drink in four months.”
“Okay. Say I believe you. Then how could you have been drunk and passed out the night Annette died?”
“After seeing you and thinking you were a ghost, I ran out to my car.” Evie shoved her chair back and got to her feet. “Dylan found me there and was comforting me. When the police showed up, Dylan hid on the floor of the backseat, then sneaked back into the hall through the window in the men’s room.”
“By
