Double Jeopardy

Two

TwoAlycia’s hair fell across her porcelain cheek, and the sight of it flowing free was almost as shocking to Isabella as the rusty stain that leaked across her expensive silk dress, the blood matching the striped fabric. It seemed indecent for the woman who had in recent months been such a loving presence in her life — like the grandmother she’d never had — to be exposed like this, even if she was never going to know it. Like seeing her caught naked.

The first dead person I’ve ever seen. But why did it have to be Alycia?

Her heart pitched wildly in her chest, and she clutched at her ribs at the stabbing pain. Dead. Alycia is dead.

Kind, wise Alycia.

Why on earth would anyone want to kill her?

A numbing, frozen claw grabbed her heart, and she no longer felt the knife between her ribs. She put her hands over her ears to shut out the sibilant, hateful chorus that whispered in her head.

Alycia is dead.

The medics who had attended her placed her on a stretcher at the box entry, while they worked fervently to stanch the bleeding. When they’d acknowledged there was nothing more they could do for her, they’d stood quietly aside, giving up the space to Basil, who stood guard over her, like a faithful watchdog in shock, not ready yet to allow anyone to move her. For that, Isabella was selfishly grateful.

When she heard the shot ring out she was backstage, about to make her next entrance, and at first she thought it was one of the actors messing about with a dueling pistol loaded with blanks for the final dramatic showdown when Lucien challenges the man who has killed his brother. Then she heard the swelling audience uproar and knew it was something much more serious than an actor’s jape, but she still did not imagine it could be anything that would destroy part of her family.

She’d immediately wanted to go to the box where her mother and her other guests were seated, to rush straight there to check they were all fine, but the theater security men would not let her leave until they were certain they had got the shooter arrested and he had no accomplices.

It had felt like an eternity before they escorted her to her mother and the others. And when she finally got here she’d had to confront one of the worst things that could have ever happened to her.

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. There would be a time for tears, but it wasn’t now. The theater was a dark vacuum, the air empty with that sense of the show being over, the box where they gathered, the last area to remain lighted. Huldah was sitting staring vacantly into nothingness, the lines that ran down her cheeks darkened, wet furrows. Basil was crouching beside Alycia, stroking her face and whispering to her, a gray-faced automaton seemingly unaware of anything else around him.

Only yesterday they’d been laughing together about what they’d get up to when her season in The Corsican Brothers was over. Working on their next strategy to find her brother, Alejandro. That was how he’d been baptized, but he could have died years ago, he could be called something else entirely, he could have long gone from California, could be a ‘farm slave’ in the Midwest …

Ever since she’d discovered last year that she was adopted, Alycia had been her mainstay, even though they weren’t related by blood. Huldah had fought to stay open-minded, but she struggled to not act threatened when Isabella wanted to do all she could to find Alejandro. It was so much easier to talk about it all with Alycia than with Huldah. Alycia had encouraged her, had paid a private detective to dig into their history.

Now that she was gone, who could Isabella turn to? She looked down at her surrogate grandmother’s pale, serene face. She almost felt her presence hovering. What did they say — it took three days for the spirit to truly leave the body? At that moment she believed it with all her heart.

What would Alycia say to her? Be strong and courageous, Izzy. You’ve got it in you.

She slipped into a back-row seat, on the edge of dizziness and fearful of fainting, and rested, gathering her strength, breathing slowly. The icy panic that had seized her melted, and a liquid peace flowed up from inside her. What was that verse Alycia sometimes read to her when she was feeling discouraged? Somewhere in Joshua. That’s right, she was to “be not afraid, neither be dismayed, for the Lord is with you wherever you go.” She steeled her weak legs and stood and moved to Basil’s shoulder. She stroked his back and whispered quietly, “Are you OK there, dear friend? Is there anything I can do to help?”

His face was a blank mask as he looked up. “No, dear Izzy. There’s nothing. Nothing any of us can do.” He gave a huge sigh. “Nothing at all.”

She moved to the front of the box to gather up Huldah, take her home, get her to bed. The curtain was down on the Sacramento’s stage, the scene of her triumph in what felt like another lifetime, and she wasn’t the same girl who’d basked in the limelight an hour before.

Be strong and courageous, Izzy. You’ve got it in you.

She was going to keep pursuing her hopes of making a career on the stage. And she was going to jolly well keep looking for Alejandro. Alycia would insist on it. She just hoped her dear grand-mère was right.