Free Get Dirty by Gretchen McNeil Page A

unexpected gap in my schedule which I decided to spend here in California, enjoying the hospitality of my dear friend Reginald, who has indulged my curiosity by allowing me to come and observe his classes in person.”
    Mr. Cunningham beamed. “It is no trouble at all, Fitzgerald. I assure you.”
    “I thought I’d take the opportunity to get to know Reginald’s Twelfth Precinct more intimately by working with the original cast,” Fitzgerald continued. “Since we’ll be mounting the production at Aspen this summer.”
    “Oh my God!” Olivia cried. “Congratulations!” She knew how desperately Mr. Cunningham had wanted this production to catch Fitzgerald Conroy’s eye.
    Mr. Cunningham dipped his head. “Thank you, Miss Hayes.”
    “Kiss-ass,” Amber said under her breath.
    Olivia almost countered with “Takes one to know one,” but she managed to bite her tongue.
    “I’m merely here to observe,” Fitzgerald said. “I don’t want to step on any toes.”
    “Step on any toes?” Mr. Cunningham said. “Nonsense. I wouldn’t dream of depriving my class of your knowledge and experience. Mi class es tu class .”
    Fitzgerald threw back his head and laughed heartily. “Excellent!” He clapped his hands and brought everyone to attention. “Let’s get right to it, then.” He pointed to Olivia. “Miss Hayes, will you join me on stage for a little exercise?”
    Amber grunted in disgust and Olivia sensed an opportunity. “I’m not feeling very well today,” she said. “Maybe Amber could take my place?”
    “Very well,” Fitzgerald said. “Amber?”
    Amber rose regally to her feet, casting a glance at Olivia, herface a mix of skepticism and confusion, as if she thought that Olivia might be trying to trap her by giving up her coveted one-on-one time with the famous director. Unable to figure it out, she scurried up to the stage and began a posture exercise with Fitzgerald.
    Olivia watched but was only half paying attention. Being back in that space was still strange. It was like her second home, the place she felt most alive in the world, but after what happened to Margot, the theater felt dark and unfriendly, and it gave Olivia a jittery feeling in her stomach that she couldn’t quite shake.
    She leaned back in her chair and stared at the stage. Fitzgerald was poking and prodding Amber’s body, pointing out the lazy, unengaged way with which she held herself. And Amber was clearly starting to get irritated by the constant criticism. Olivia smiled to herself. It was the same look Amber had on her face during the curtain call opening night, when Mr. Cunningham insisted that Olivia, not Amber, take the coveted final bow.
    That’s when Amber had stormed off the stage. Which might have given her just enough time to attack Margot.
    Would it have, though? Barely. It made more sense that Margot was attacked during the finale, when the noise of the band would have obscured any offstage commotion.
    Fitzgerald called the class up to the stage, but Olivia lingered in her seat, staring intently at the wings as she tried to picture who was where during the final dance number: theband, the crew, and the actors.
    “I can’t stop thinking about it either,” someone said close behind her.
    Olivia jumped, and swung around to find Logan. She’d been so lost in thought she’d never even heard him take the seat behind her.
    “Margot?” she asked.
    Logan winced as if in pain, and Olivia was instantly sorry she’d been so blunt with her question.
    “Have you seen her at all?” she asked gently, hoping not to sound too anxious for information about her friend.
    Logan blinked rapidly. “Family only in the ICU,” he said.
    “Oh.”
    “But I meant opening night,” he continuedquickly. “I can’t stop thinking about what happened.”
    “Me neither.”
    Logan stared at the stage, his eyes unseeing. “Do you remember what the cops said? About how we should report anything suspicious we might’ve seen?”
    Olivia