“Oh, I hope not,” Beth said. “We already have Heather’s mother trying to push her into a bigger part. She even tried to have Heather take the role of Puck.”

“How does Heather feel about it?”

“Mortified,” Beth said. “She’s happy with her bit part.”

“Poor kid.”

“It’s okay. Violet can manage the stagestruck mom,” Beth said. “So far, she’s sent her for coffee, had her painting sets and last I saw she sent her on an errand to go look for a scepter for Oberon.”

“I thought Nancy already had one.”

Beth shrugged.

“Fairies, front and center,” Violet called out from the stage.

“Gotta go,” Beth said and she squeezed Lindsey’s arm. “Don’t worry, I can keep a good eye on Violet from the stage.”

“Thanks,” Lindsey said.

She left the backstage area and made her way to the hallway. As she turned the corner, she bumped into Lola, who was leaning against the wall, looking lost.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Lindsey steadied herself on the wall. “I didn’t see you.”

“No one ever sees me,” Lola mumbled. Then she burst into tears.

Lindsey glanced around the dimly lit hallway, hoping someone, anyone, would show up. The place was as abandoned as a graveyard.

“It’ll be okay, really,” she said. “It just takes time.”

“You don’t understand. No one cared about me like Robbie did,” Lola sniffed. “He looked after me. Now I have no one.”

Lindsey looked at the woman next to her. She was a dark-haired beauty who had the helpless and vulnerable thing down pat. Is that what Robbie had seen in her?

“Oh, please,” a voice said from the end of the hall. “Robbie’s dead. There’s no one to come to your rescue. Surely you can cease the waterworks now.”

Lola wailed louder, and Kitty strode toward them in knee-high black leather boots, a miniskirt and a sweater that dipped low in the front and hugged her figure tight.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Lola sobbed. “What Robbie and I had was real; you were just his business partner.”

“That’s right,” Kitty said. “I managed his career. I made all of our lives better because of my fabulous business sense, but without Robbie, my business no longer exists. So, if anyone should be crying, it would be me—which is exactly what I told the police and why they let me go.”

Lindsey gave her a surprised look, and Kitty glared at her.

“What?” she asked. “Did you think I busted out of jail?”

“No, but being the spouse . . .” Lindsey’s voice trailed off.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the chief suspect,” Kitty said. “I got that. Fortunately, even the pea-brained police in this podunk town can see that as Robbie’s manager, it really made no sense for me to kill him. Sort of like cutting off my right arm. Stupid.”