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  Upstaged

  A Gus LeGarde Mystery

  Aaron Paul Lazar

  Copyrigh t

  Upstaged: a Gus LeGarde Mystery by Aaron Paul Lazar

  This is a work of fiction. All concepts, characters and events portrayed in this book are fiction and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Aaron Paul Lazar.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, except brief extracts for the purpose of review, without the permission of the publisher and copyright owner. Originally published by Publish America in 2005 and subsequently re-published by Twilight Times Books Feb. 5, 2013.

  Author’s Preferred Edition, May, 2016

  Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design

  www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk

  Published in the United States of America.

  Dedication

  This novel is dedicated to my sweet wife, who has patiently journeyed by my side throughout our tumultuous life. I love you, honey.

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  Devil’s Lake

  Bittersweet Hollow, book 1

  Two years ago, Portia Lamont disappeared from a small town in Vermont, devastating her parents and sister, who spent every waking hour searching for her. When she suddenly shows up on their horse farm in a stolen truck with a little mutt on her lap, they want to know what happened. Was she taken? Or did she run away?

  2015 Finalist Readers’ Favorites Awards

  2015 Semi-finalist in Kindle Book Review Awards

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  Reviews

  You’re about to dive into Upstaged , book 2 in the LeGarde Mystery series. If you enjoy it, I hope you’ll consider leaving a review. It doesn’t have to be long or fancy—just a few lines about what you liked best or how the book made you feel is perfectly fine.

  Authors really do read the reviews and love to hear what their readers think and feel about the characters, the story, or the writing. It’s validating, especially if you enjoy what we work so hard to produce!

  Thanks in advance for taking a few minutes to write a review ;o)

  - Aaron Paul Lazar

  Cast of Characters

  Primary Cast

  Gus LeGarde: Professor of music at Conaroga University. Focal point of a large group of friends and family as well as unusual, often harrowing, events.

  Camille Coté: Social worker and troubled victim of a brutal ex-husband. Gus’s fiancée.

  Siegfried Marggrander: A giant of a man, deprived of his enormous mental ability early in life by an accident. He survived as a genial, fearless and loyal companion to Gus.

  Elsbeth (Marggrander) LeGarde: Siegfried’s twin sister who died five years before the events of this story, but survives as an unforgettable memory in Gus’s mind. Elsbeth was Gus’s first wife.

  Freddie (LeGarde) Delano: Gus’s daughter. Ex-wife of Harold Delano, now imprisoned, and mother of Johnny, a precocious two-year old.

  Maddy Coté: Camille’s flamboyant mother and Gus’s secretary in the Music Department at Conaroga University.

  Adelaide Pierce: Housekeeper of the LeGarde household.

  Joe Russell: Lieutenant of the local police and a close friend to Gus.

  Adam Knapp: Joe Russell’s partner who is romantically interested in Freddie.

  The Stones: Oscar and Millie took the bereaved Gus under their wings as he suffered one loss after another in his family.

  Performers in the Play and School Personnel

  Lou Marshall: School superintendent, a man with secrets.

  Molly Frost (Celeste Freespirit): Lead singer with a lovely soprano voice.

  Lisa Bigelow (Rikki Mudd): Young actress always cast in second place to Molly, portrays Broadway “wannabe.”

  Candy Price (Minnie Shaw): Plays Porter’s younger sister who wants to escape her Catholic high school and go to Woodstock. Candy is very artistic and the school photographer

  Randy Sherman (Damian Firebrand): Cocky actor in rock star role.

  Maurice Potter (Porter Shaw): Portrays a war veteran suffering from unrequited love.

  Takeema Billings (Lana Canberra): A free spirit in both play and reality.

  Armand Lugio: Originally cast in a role, he was dismissed from participation and expelled from school for his unbalanced and dangerous behavior.

  Nelson Santos (Emilio Juarez): Gay and occasionally the victim of narrow-minded people.

  Agnes Bigelow: Unstable stage mother, somewhat mended with medication. The assignment of her daughter, Lisa, to a secondary role, is a severe trial.

  Cindi Fox: One of the helpers on the set. A gentle young woman with Down Syndrome.

  Jonesy: On the janitorial staff, a moody and quiet man.

  Frank Swensen: Head janitor, lanky with honest brown eyes.

  The Animals (and owners)

  Max (Gus): Half husky/half wire-haired dachshund.

  Sheba (Siegfried): Golden retriever rescued from hunter’s trap.

  Boris (Camille): A longhaired mini-Dachshund, Drama Club mascot.

  Tristan (Gus): A Himalayan cat with the instincts of a thief.

  Diablo (Gus): A Morgan gelding with visions of a steeple-chasing career.

  Maggie (Gus): A dainty Morgan mare.

  Rascal (Gus): An ill-tempered rooster who rules the barn.

  Tinkerbell (the Stones): Sheba’s mongrel pup who replaced the beloved Jasper.

  Ginger (Camille): An orange tiger cat who snoozes as much as she eats.

  Dunster (Joe Russell) : A tri-colored collie, now dead, but alive in his owner’s memory.

  Chapter One

  W hen the first scream came, it was long and shrill.

  The students sitting in front of the stage shot up from their seats and began to babble and twist around, looking for the source.

  I wondered where it had come from, too. Pushing back from the piano, I stood and listened for an encore. I waited a few minutes, and then turned to my fiancée, Camille, who was in charge of auditions this afternoon. “Miss Coté?”

  Brow furrowed, she turned to the teens who crowded around her. “Does anyone know where the scream came from?”

  The teens shook their heads and chattered even louder.

  Molly Frost, who’d been auditioning on stage with a lyrical rendition of Gershwin’s “Someone to Watch Over Me,” stared down the dark hallway leading to the prop room. “I think it came from the back.”

  Camille took control, clapping her hands. “Okay, now. Everyone settle down.” She turned to me, her eyes clouded with worry. “Professor LeGarde? Would you mind checking—”

  The scream came again, louder this time. Definitely from backstage.

  The hairs on the back of my neck rose. Who’s back there? Everyone auditioning for the musical should be sitting right here with us in the auditorium.

  “I’m on it.” I raced across the scuffed stage floorboards. Fumbling for the break in the heavy velvet curtain, I finally found it, and flew through the backstage corridor, past the chorus room, and into the prop room.

  Mrs. Agnes Bigelow stood with her back to the wall, a yellow tie-dyed skirt crumpled at her feet. Her normally pasty complexion had turned flour-white and her face worked in noiseless horror .

  Racks of costumes lined the far wall. Cartons of props lay jumbled on the floor. Artificial swords protruded from a bucket and a procession of wigs lined two shelves.

  I scanned the room carefully, but saw nothing amiss. I approached her like I would a nervous filly. “Mrs. Bigelow?”

  No response.

  I touched her sleeve. “Mrs. Bigelow?”

  She g
ulped, sputtered, and stared at me with boggled eyes. Trembling, she pointed toward the bucket of swords. “Over there.”

  Puzzled, I walked toward the bucket, seeing nothing amiss. I half expected to find a dead body, but what reared its head was almost worse. A red and white snake emerged, its head swaying toward me. My heart skipped a beat and my skin grew clammy. As if under its spell, I stood stock-still.

  The snake’s scales glistened and it corkscrewed around a crude wooden sword.

  Camille appeared at the door with her entourage of drama students rubbernecking behind her. “Gus? What’s going on?”

  I looked at my betrothed with false bravado. “It’s all right, honey. Just a snake.” I figured if I said it out loud as if it were no big deal, my nerves would calm down.

  I was wrong.

  Camille’s hand flew to her mouth. “Did you say a snake ?”

  I glanced at the serpent, easing back a step. “Uh huh.”

  Her eyes widened, but she recovered and herded the clamoring teens back into the hall. They craned their heads and peered over her outstretched arms.

  I surveyed the room. No outside doors or windows; a catwalk suspended overhead. It seemed improbable the serpent had slithered in from the outside. I wondered if maybe it had escaped from one of the terrariums in the elementary wing .

  I turned to the teens. “Could one of you please get Mr. Marggrander? Last time I saw him, he was unloading lumber at the dock.”

  Tenth grader Candy Price thrust her hand in the air, waving it with enthusiasm. She danced from foot to foot making her short red curls bob up and down. “I’ll go!”

  Camille nodded her approval and the girl scampered off.

  The snake suddenly rose to the top of the bucket and hissed. A shiver rippled along my spine. I vaguely wondered if it was a copperhead.

  Chapter Two

  T he serpent reached toward me again, its hooded eyes glittering. I stepped back to the wall beside Agnes, who slid into a crouch.

  She shuddered, her eyes fixed on the snake. “Someone dropped it from the rafters. I heard them walking overhead on the catwalk, and then they lowered that bag. The thing slipped out right beside me .” Her shrill voice rose to a painful pitch and she hugged herself.

  The bevy of teenagers in the doorway whimpered, chattering and pointing up at the catwalk.

  Nelson Santos shimmied closer to Camille. “Is it poisonous?” His face had drained to flour-white.

  Camille dragged Nelson backwards. “Gosh, I hope not. But just to be safe, everyone back up.”

  A burlap bag lay on the floor beside a loosely coiled nylon rope. I looked back at the bucket and was surprised to see the snake had vanished. Should I be relieved, or worried? It could have slid down into the bucket again—or—it could be gliding across the prop room floor toward us.

  Lisa Bigelow, who had apparently lingered in the auditorium while the scene in the prop room was being played out, pushed through the group and ducked around Camille to join Agnes. “Mother? What happened?” Distracted, she glanced down at the skirt on the floor. “Is this gonna be mine? Oh, I love it!” She held the skirt to her waist and swished it back and forth.

  I held my breath, hoping the snake wouldn't drop from it, and motioned for Camille to move everyone further into the hall.

  Agnes locked eyes with me. Some color had returned to her cheeks, and her voice was a little steadier. “I heard him run away. In that direction.” She looked up at the catwalk and pointed toward the back of the building.

  I peered into the blackness overhead. The double catwalk spanned the length of the stage in two parallel sections and traveled to twin stairways leading back to the basement of the huge building. The network of walkways also connected to small passages that spider-webbed over the theater’s domed ceiling where access to light fixtures eventually led to the lighting booths at the back of the hall. If the creep took off in the direction Mrs. Bigelow indicated, we’d never catch him.

  I walked to the wall panel and flipped up all of the switches, flooding the room with bright light. It would be futile to chase the phantom through a dark building. And he’d had plenty of time to disappear since we discovered his squirming souvenir.

  Siegfried Marggrander’s massive frame filled the doorway. “Professor? Was ist los?” When my brother-in-law and best friend ducked to enter the room, his long blond ponytail swung over his shoulder. He glanced around the room, striding to my side.

  “There’s a snake in here, Sig.” I motioned toward the props. “It might still be in that bucket. I'm not sure. Be careful, it could be poisonous.”

  Siegfried pulled work gloves from his back pocket and slid his enormous hands into them. He calmly approached the bucket. Bending forward, he reached inside and extracted the three-foot serpent. One hand grasped the snake about the head and the other held the tail. He turned toward me, smiling broadly. “He’s just a little milk snake. Look.”

  Alternating reddish-brown bands and white patches covered the snake's body. I stepped back, unable to ignore the revulsion in my stomach. The serpent twisted in Siegfried’s hands as he turned it around under the light to admire it.

  “Mein Gott .” His brow furrowed. He showed me a red gash on the snake’s underbelly. “It’s a bad cut, Professor. I will bring him to the clinic, Ja ? ”

  I motioned toward the sack on the floor. “Sure. You can use that bag.”

  Siegfried worked at my daughter’s veterinary office. His intuitive rapport with animals complemented Freddie’s brisk efficiency. His limited mental capacities, resultant from a boating accident when he was twelve, did not impair his ability to work with animals. The boat had struck him on the head when he swam across the lake at dusk, sending him into a coma for three long months. When he awoke, Siegfried was transformed from a gifted math genius to a mildly brain-damaged youth. He’d grown into a staunch family defender and would always be my best friend. Our family relied on him for everything from caring for our horses and chickens to chopping wood, all of which were done after his job at the clinic, of course.

  He carefully placed the injured snake into the burlap bag, cinched the rope around the open end, and turned his worried eyes to mine. “I’ll take care of him, Professor.”

  I smiled at my behemoth friend and released a long sigh. “Thanks, Sig. I’m glad you were here.”

  “Ja . Me, too.”

  The bag moved as the snake squirmed inside. Siegfried lifted it from the floor. He walked toward the door, speaking consoling words in German.

  Hearing these words transported me back in time. Siegfried’s murmurs of solace brought to mind the memory of his twin sister, Elsbeth, cradling our daughter in her arms, crooning soothing words to her. I sighed and felt the familiar touch of nostalgic depression wash over me. It had been five years since I’d lost my wife, but the memories were still vivid. The vision flashed across my brain, feeling so real. I envisioned Freddie at the age of two, in a pink blanket sleeper with wispy golden hair damp from her bath. I saw Elsbeth with her dark curls undulating as she rocked our baby. She whispered soothing German words while nuzzling her cheek.

  The images coalesced in my brain and a thought flitted through me. The melancholy hit me hard, as if punishing me for ignoring it when I snatched moments of happiness with Camille. It was heavy, like black sludge that filled my heart.

  I miss Elsbeth. I miss her so much.

  Chapter Three

  I dragged myself back to reality, feeling guilty for thinking of Elsbeth while my fiancée, Camille, was standing so close to me. It was a crazy sort of duality. I’d loved my first wife with all my heart, but she’d been gone for five years now. Still, I felt guilty for having found my new love Camille, and yet felt equally guilty when I longed for Elsbeth when I was with Camille. A therapist would probably have a ball trying to figure me out.

  I shrugged inwardly and waved in the high school maintenance crew, who followed Camille into the room armed with mops and shovels.

 
I recognized Frank Swensen, the lanky senior member of the group, from Freddie’s years at Valley High School. Floppy graying hair, parted in the middle, fringed his high forehead. His honest brown eyes inspired confidence. I nodded and smiled. He waved back, as if he recognized me.

  Frank introduced me to Cindi Fox and Jonesy. Cindi stood at four-feet-ten inches with short, spiky red hair. Her round face hosted a slightly flattened nose and a small pert mouth. Her clear green eyes slanted up with rounded folds of skin on the inside corners, characteristic of Down syndrome. She smiled broadly, shaking my hand with her wide callused fingers. I liked her immediately.

  Jonesy, the newest member of the crew, stood at five-five with slightly stooped shoulders. His shaved, egg-shaped skull reflected the lights from above. Short fragments of wiry black hair poked over his ears where he’d missed a spot with his razor. He sported a squirrelly mustache and thick, horn-rimmed glasses. He nodded timidly and stared at the floor.

  Camille glanced nervously toward the props. “Is it still in the bucket? ”

  The janitors stirred behind her, shuffling from foot to foot and eyeing the room warily.

  I patted her shoulder. “No, it’s gone. Siegfried took care of it. It was a harmless variety.”

  Relieved chatter washed over the group.

  Frank stepped forward. “Must have been a prank, huh? Kids seem awful riled up these days. Never know what to expect next.”

  Camille turned to him. “It probably was, Frank. But for safety’s sake, could you folks take a look around? All of my kids are in the auditorium now. If you see anyone loitering in the halls, would you please send them on their way?”