“So you shopped?”
“Yes, and I always wanted to visit Chelsea Market. It has the best food.” It wasn’t true that she went there, but it was the only thing she could think of.
“Chelsea Market and Fifth Avenue are a bit apart.”
“That’s why cabs run in New York City.” If she could just keep this conversation going where she wanted it to . . .
“Did you make a stop on West Eleventh Street?”
Ward Cooper knew where she had gone. That was obvious. But how did he know? Could he have been following her? Why would he do that unless he had been afraid she was getting closer to the truth?
She finally decided to deal with this head on. “You were jealous of Margaret, weren’t you?”
“Jealous? I deserved everything she inherited. She deserved everything that happened to her. And you deserve everything you’re going to get for poking into this.”
Ward lunged at Daisy, but she took off running.
He yelled after her while he chased her. “She didn’t deserve Uncle Con’s money or my aunt’s jewelry. She took care of him for a year. I knew him for a lifetime.”
The closest place to run was up the staircase, but when she reached the top, the theater went dark. Ward had shut down the lights. Daisy knew she was trapped on this landing.
She searched her mind for a way out. As they’d been talking, Ward had been standing near the expensive oriental rug that Margaret had insisted on buying.
Suddenly she heard Ward’s voice. “Come on down, Daisy. There’s no place to go up there. We can talk some more. Or do you want me to come up there after you?” That last question had been asked in a much nastier voice . . . closer to her too.
If she hadn’t been practically breathless with fear before, she was now. How could she coax Ward to stand on that rug?
In her pocket she found her wallet. Fingering it, she decided to take a chance. After all, he was threatening her. She deserved to act a little irrational.
“If it’s money you want, I can write you a check. I always carry a check in my wallet for emergencies. It’s my business account so I can wipe it out.”
Pulling her wallet from her pocket, she threw it in the direction she wanted Ward to go.
The stage was as dark as spades, but she was pretty good at sensing direction. Her hand was on the banister at the front of the staircase. Moving slightly to its corner, she stood in the juncture of the two banisters. “Take my money. Look in the wallet for the check. I’ll be glad to sign it.”
He wouldn’t kill her if he knew he could access thousands of dollars and get away, right?
She heard him scuffling around. It sounded as if his feet were on the rug. She reached up and as far out as she could for the pulley ropes that were holding up the chandelier. Her foot slipped in her ballet shoes, and she caught herself before she fell off the small makeshift balcony. Anchoring her foot under the lowest rung of the banister, she reached farther and felt the rope. She unhooked it, and the chandelier crashed down. Ward Cooper screamed.
Using the banister to guide her down the stairs, she ran, jumped over the last step, and headed for the theater’s back door. When she ran across the stage, she couldn’t see where the steps were that led down to the back hall. She wanted to know if Ward was following her, but she couldn’t spare even a moment to listen. It might only take a second to catch up to her.
She missed the first step on the down staircase from the stage and almost tumbled down the rest of the stairs. Somehow she regained her balance, scrambled down the last two steps, and sped toward the back door. She went at it full force and pushed it open.
Spotting Rowan climbing from his sedan, where Glenda was sitting too, she ran toward him yelling his name. Then she took a deep breath, pulled out her phone, and called 9-1-1.
Epilogue
Daisy sat across from Detective Rappaport in a conference room at the police station. They had just begun when Jonas burst in.
Daisy’s mind was still reeling from everything that had happened. Truth be told, her legs were shaking too. Detective Rappaport had driven her car to the police station because he didn’t think she was able to drive. He’d been kind, which had almost made her feel worse.
As soon as she saw Jonas, she hopped up from her seat and ran to him. He caught her in his arms and hugged her tight. He buried his nose in her neck, and she thought he was shaking a little bit too. From his tight hold, she knew he didn’t want to let go any more than she did. But she had to give her statement to the detective.
After what seemed a timeless few moments, yet not enough time at all, Jonas raised his head and looked over Daisy’s shoulder at Rappaport. “Is it all right if I stay?”
“As long as you don’t interrupt Daisy as she goes over again what happened. We went through this once, but I think she was in shock.”
Jonas released her and stood about a foot away, studying her carefully. “Are you all right?”
She gently touched his jaw. “I’m fine. Honest. You’ve got to believe I never expected what happened. I just went to the theater to talk to Rowan—”
“Whoa,” Detective Rappaport said. “Slow down, Daisy. Come and sit down. Let’s start this from the beginning so I can record you. I want you to go slow and give me as much detail as you can.”
That’s exactly what Daisy did.
After she finished, and the detective
