Free Spellcrossed by Barbara Ashford Page A

behavior. “Sorry. It’s been a long week.”
    Janet took Long’s arm. “I’ll walk you to the parking lot.”
    Instead of picking up his cue, he thrust his hanky into my hand. “Forgive me, my dear. I wouldn’t hurt your feelings for the world. Or ruin this night for you.”
    Which turned on the waterworks again quite effectively.
    “Parking lot,” Janet said. “Now.”
    As she pulled him down the walkway, I groaned. “I’m such an idiot.”
    “HE’S the idiot!” Mei-Yin hissed. “If the Archangel GABRIEL had touched down on that stage tonight, he’d complain that it wasn’t Jesus CHRIST.”
    “Everything he said was true. I
am
a novice. The show
did
fall short.”
    “We don’t think so,” Alex said quietly.
    “I just mean that Rowan—”
    “Was
Brigadoon
perfect?” Reinhard demanded. “Or
The Sea-Wife
? Or
Carousel
? No! And neither was
Annie
. But we put on a show that none of us had ever attempted. We pulled good performances out of amateurs and excellent ones out of professionals. We gave children an opportunity to work in the theatre and experience the thrill of hearing an audience laughwith them and cry with them and cheer their performances. Is that not cause for celebration?”
    I smiled up into his worried face and nodded.
    “Good! Now. We will go up to the house and toast our accomplishments.”

CHAPTER 10
ALL IN MY MIND
    I T WAS A RELIEF TO LET THE BUSINESS of theatre slide and just enjoy the company of good friends. Unfortunately, the opening night high wore off in a hurry. Catherine and Javier made their exit only a half hour after their entrance. I followed them to the front door, my yawns almost as huge as Catherine’s.
    As I reached for the switch to turn on the porch lantern, Javier said, “Save the electricity. We don’t need it.” He grinned. “Faery eyesight,” he added in a whisper. “Great for running around backstage during a blackout. And for late-night strolls.”
    Hand in hand, they started down the hill. After they disappeared into the darkness, I leaned on the railing to stare up at the sky. There was no moon, just a million stars splashed across the heavens. I closed my eyes, breathing in the pine-scented air. Then opened them again when I heard the faint sound of Catherine’s laughter. The lights in the parking lot provided just enough illumination to show her running down the walkway by the barn with Javier in pursuit. Then they both vanished into the shadows. A moment later, a light flicked on in the Mill.
    Married more than two years and they still acted like newlyweds. I suppressed an envious sigh and turned to go inside.
    A faint flash made me glance back. At first, I thought it must be another lamp going on in the Mill. But when I walked to the end of the porch and peered into the darkness, I realized the narrow sliver of light was coming from the theatre.
    It was the ghost light, shining through the open stage door.
    A shadowy form darted through the light and into the theatre. Then the door closed.
    Maybe Catherine or Javier had gone back for something. But if I could see the ghost light shining through the stage door, I would have noticed the front door of the Mill opening.
    There was only one explanation: someone was breaking into my goddamn theatre on my goddamn opening night.
    I flung open the screen door and strode into the foyer, narrowly avoiding a collision with Reinhard who was emerging from the powder room. “Someone’s broken into the theatre,” I told him. Then I hurried into the library. With shaking fingers, I dialed 911.
    “Hillandale Police Department,” a woman’s voice said.
    “Becky?”
    “No, it’s April. Becky was feeling a little under the weather so I—”
    “April, it’s Maggie Graham. At the Cross—”
    “Oh, hi, Maggie! Heard the show was a big hit. Burt and I are bringing the kids Saturday.”
    Only in Dale can you call 911 for a cozy chat.
    “That’s great, April. But we have a problem. There’s an intruder