Instead, he asked her what books she liked to read and what movies she liked to watch. He asked her about her childhood and what her favorite flowers were. Being on the receiving end of his attention was very flattering, but Lindsey couldn't help but think that she was just a passing distraction for him.

They talked about the actors he had worked with and the experiences he'd had. Lindsey was particularly enthralled when he told about being presented to the queen of England. Robbie, of course, made a joke about it, but she could tell he was proud.

As she capped her paint, she looked up from her donkey's head to watch Robbie on stage as he delivered his lines. He didn't just say the lines; he made them come to life.

As if he sensed her eyes on him, he turned and delivered the last of his lines right to her. When he was finished, Violet and the others clapped and he gave a short bow.

"Why don't we all take a short break," Violet said. "Be back in five."

"You're not kidding when you said short," Robbie said. He picked up his bottle of coconut water and shook it. It was empty.

Lindsey glanced back down at her donkey head and wondered if she could scrounge up a blow dryer to make the coat of paint dry more quickly.

She decided to go ask Nancy when there was a terrible gurgling sound from the stage. She glanced up and saw Robbie stumble. He caught himself on a piece of the set and pushed himself upright.

"Mr. Vine, are you all right?" Dylan asked from across the stage.

"Huh?" Robbie squinted at the boy. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Lindsey frowned. Robbie looked anything but fine. As if to prove her right, he let out a groan and sat down-or, more accurately, fell down on the stage.

"Robbie, get up!" Kitty snapped from the front of the theater.

"Don't tell me what to do, you harpy," Robbie snapped. But he wobbled even while sitting and his voice sounded slurred.

"Robbie, are you drunk?" Violet asked. She sounded annoyed.

"No!" Robbie said. Then he clutched his forehead and said, "Gah, my head is splitting!"

Lindsey wondered if she had any pain medicine in her purse. She was about to go check when Robbie pitched over backward onto the stage.

"Robbie!" Violet shouted.

She ran forward and knelt beside him, and Lindsey hurried from her position at the back of the theater. Emma Plewicki had been sitting in the back row, but she ran up onto the stage and knelt on Robbie's other side.

"Robbie!" Violet cried his name and patted his face. Everyone else in the theater stood frozen. Emma checked the pulse in his wrist and his neck. Then she rested her right ear on his rib cage as if listening for a heartbeat or to feel the rise and fall of his chest.

In moments she was sitting up and she snatched the radio out of its holder on her shoulder. Lindsey heard her call for an ambulance. In the meantime, she started to give Robbie CPR. She was doing chest compressions, and Lindsey could see the sweat bead up on her forehead.

Violet was whispering low in Robbie's ear words of encouragement and cajoling. Time seemed to stand still as everyone looked on in horror. Emma kept up the chest compressions, but there was no sign from Robbie that they were making any difference.

Five minutes later, the EMTs burst through the door at the back of the theater, pushing a stretcher down the aisle.

As soon as they hopped up onto the stage, Emma moved over to give them room.

She glanced at Lindsey and snapped, "Get everyone out of here!"

Feeling as if she were in a trance, Lindsey turned and glanced at the cast and crew, who stood in a trancelike state watching the real-life drama playing out in front of them.

"Everyone, move," Lindsey said. Her voice was stronger than she would have thought. She held her arms out wide and walked toward the group. They all looked around her at the EMTs.

"You heard the chief," Lindsey said. "Let's clear the area."

She saw Milton and Ms. Cole standing by the side of the stage. Her gaze met Milton's and he gave her a small nod of understanding. He turned and whispered something to Ms. Cole. She nodded and together they began to encourage the cast and crew to leave the stage.

Lindsey heard the EMTs talking about Adrenalin and a defibrillator, and she could hear them give one another commands, but she didn't turn around. Not until after the last of the cast and crew had gone through the door, did she turn back to the stage.

She saw one EMT, listening through a stethoscope to Robbie's chest. The seconds stretched into minutes, which felt like hours. Finally, he sat back on his heels.

He looked grim as he glanced at his watch. He turned to Emma and said, "I'm sorry, he's dead."

13.

"What?" Violet cried. "No, there's been a mistake. He's just unconscious. Check him again."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry," the paramedic said. He looked at Emma and said, "We're going to need to move him now."

"Of course," she said.

"No! Robbie, no!" Violet cried. She looked as if she'd launch herself at his body, but Emma caught her by the arms and held her.

"Violet, it's no use," Emma said. Violet let loose a desperate, keening cry and collapsed into Emma's arms.

Lindsey couldn't catch her breath. She could feel her heartbeat rushing in her ears and closing out all sound, as if it could drum out the paramedic's words. It couldn't be true. He couldn't be dead. But there was no denying the still, lifeless form of Robbie Vine.

She tried to speak, but her throat was raw, as if her vocal chords had been severed and couldn't push out the words.

She cleared her throat and tried again, "Violet, I'm so sorry."

Emma glanced up and waved her over. When Lindsey knelt beside them, Emma handed Violet over to Lindsey and said, "I'm going to have to interview everyone. No one leaves."

"I understand," Lindsey said.

The paramedics loaded Robbie onto a stretcher. Violet reached out and gripped his lifeless hand in hers for just a moment. Lindsey found herself staring at Robbie's handsome face. She saw flashes of him smiling, laughing and teasing her. When they draped a sheet over his head, she wanted to yell for them to stop. Like Violet, she simply couldn't believe that a spirit as bright and vibrant as Robbie's could have been extinguished.

Instead, she leaned close to his covered head and whispered in a voice that was rough with unshed tears, "Good-bye, merry wanderer of the night."

The paramedics wheeled him away, and Violet continued to sob. Lindsey held her close and rocked her. There were no words of comfort that she could give. All she could do was give her friend a comforting circle of arms in which to weep.

Emma left with the paramedics. While she was gone, Nancy came running onto the stage from the back room with Mary right behind her.

"We snuck out of the green room and were eavesdropping," she cried. "Oh, Violet, oh, I'm so sorry."

Violet raised her head, and Lindsey moved so that Nancy could sit and take her post as chief comforter.

Mary looked closely at Lindsey and asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Lindsey lied. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying, but her eyes stung and her throat burned from the effort.

"Lindsey!" Sully came tearing onto the stage from the loading dock at the back with Ian right behind him. "Are you all right? What happened?"

He grabbed her by the arms and held her so that he could get a good look at her face. His blue eyes missed nothing, and he said, "Oh, damn."

He pulled her close and held her tight. It was the kindness in his eyes and the secure feeling in his arms that were her undoing.

Lindsey began to cry. She didn't mean to, but once the floodgates burst, there was no holding back and she was hiccupping into Sully's shoulder while he ran a hand up and down her back, soothing her while she cried it out.

"Sorry," she said. She pulled away and sniffed. "I just . . . it was . . . I can't believe it."

Sully cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. His voice was tender when he said, "I know."

Emma Plewicki came back into the theater. Her face was set in hard lines as she strode toward the stage.

"Violet, are you all right?" she asked.

Violet was sitting on the edge of the stage with Nancy beside her. One look at her tear-ravaged face and Emma rephrased her question.

"What I mean by that is are you up to talking about what happened or do you need more time?"

"No, I can talk about it," she said. She looked shaky, and she fretted a tissue between her fingers.

"If you'll excuse us," Emma said. "I'd like to talk to everyone one at a time." Her voice was gentle but firm.

Nancy looked at Violet. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

"No, I'll be all right," Violet said. She patted her friend's hand.

Nancy looked reluctant but she left the stage and joined the others. As they started to walk up the aisle, Emma turned and called after them, "Don't go too far, Lindsey. I want to talk to you next."

Lindsey stumbled but Sully steadied her. "I gotcha."

"Thanks," she said.

"Come on, let's get some air," Sully said. He looked at Ian and said, "I'm taking Lindsey outside for air if Emma wants her."

Ian glanced at Lindsey and gave her a sympathetic smile.

"We'll come get you."

The side door to the theater let out into a narrow alley. A cold breeze blew in from the water; it was damp and heavy, and she sucked in big gulps of it, grateful for its bracing effects. It lifted the hair off of her hot neck, and she pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, trying to keep from crying.

Sully stood quietly beside her. He didn't say anything but his presence was strong and sure and she knew she could lean on him if she needed it. Knowing this steadied her.

"I can't believe he's dead," she said. "I can't believe I watched him die."

"Come here," Sully said.

He opened his arms and just like that, she fell into them. He rested his head against her hair and Lindsey soaked up his strength, not caring that they'd been at odds for months. She was just grateful that he was here now.

"Emma's a good cop," he said. "She'll figure it out."

Lindsey leaned back and looked at him. "You don't think it was a random heart attack, do you?"

Sully blew out a breath. "No."

"Poor Violet," she said. She stepped away from him, wrapped her arms around herself and began to pace. "He was like family to her. I can't even imagine how Charlene is going to take it."

"Badly, I would guess," Sully said.

The side door opened and Mary peered out. "Emma wants to talk to you, Lindsey."

"Oh, all right," she said. She turned back to Sully and rested her hand on his arm. "Thanks."

"Anytime," he said.

Lindsey would have liked to have said more, but things had changed between them. They weren't dating and they'd been too distant with one another over the past few months to be friends, so she was left not knowing what to say.

With an unsatisfactory nod, she took a deep breath and went back into the theater. She tried not to look at the place where Robbie had fallen but of course that's exactly where her gaze went.

There was no sign of Violet. In fact, the only people in the theater were Emma and what appeared to be some crime scene techs, who were investigating the stage where Robbie had fallen. Emma was sitting in the front row, and she gestured for Lindsey to join her.

Lindsey took a seat and turned slightly to face Emma. "How's Violet holding up?"

"She'll be all right," Emma said. "Right now I'm worried about you. How are you doing?"

"I've been better," Lindsey said. "I can't believe one minute he was swigging his coconut water and the next he's dead on the stage."

"His what?" Emma asked, suddenly sitting up.

"Coconut water," Lindsey said. "He always had a bottle on hand."

Emma glanced over at the techs. One of them was looking at Lindsey, and he turned and nodded at Emma.

"We found two empty bottles up here," he said. "We'll have them tested."

"Tested for what?" Lindsey asked.

"We don't know yet," Emma said. "But my first guess would be poison."

"You think Robbie was poisoned?" Lindsey asked.

Emma was silent for moment and then she let out a sigh. "I would like you to keep that to yourself, but yes, I do believe he was poisoned."