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“Up here.”
“What is it?” Andy asked.
“Why the fuck would I tell you when I can show you?” Ryan shot back.
We climbed up and then walked over to where Ryan stood, somewhere near the middle. “What was tampered with?” Andy asked, checking each light along the way like a worried hen. “Is it the new spotlight over there?”
Ryan slowly shook his head. “It wasn’t our lights they touched.”
He pointed out above the stage. There were various sections of rope holding things in place, and bundles of cables for the lights, sound, and other electrical equipment. Nothing stuck out to me.
But Andy sucked in his breath. “That’s new.”
“Yep,” Ryan replied simply. “Wasn’t here during rehearsal last night. Whoever installed it did so after everyone left.”
“Or this morning,” Andy said.
“Had to be last night,” Ryan replied. “Place was locked when I got here. Someone stayed after rehearsal, waited for the place to be locked up, and then installed it. The door locks from the inside, so they could leave and keep it locked.”
“Or it was someone with a key.”
Ryan blinked. “Could’ve been.”
“Sorry to interrupt, but what am I supposed to be looking at?” I asked.
Ryan put one hand on my back and pointed with the other. “That bundle of sandbags hanging from the rope.”
Even once I saw what he was talking about, I failed to recognize what was noteworthy. There were dozens of sandbags hanging from the ceiling rafters. They were used as counterweights for the curtain and other parts of the set. Why were these special?
Then Andy came closer and Ryan pointed at the catwalk railing. The rope to those sandbags connects here.”
Andy reached out, then stopped himself before his fingers touched it. “An electronic frog carabiner?”
“Yep. Can be triggered from anywhere.” Ryan turned to me. “This is a wireless release device. When triggered, it releases the rope.”
“Causing the sandbags to fall onto the stage.”
“Uh huh.”
A chill ran through my body. This was direct evidence of the saboteur.
“How did they connect it out there?” Andy wondered out loud.
“Must’ve climbed,” Ryan said.
“Awfully dangerous.”
“Sure is.” He glanced at me. “Someone nimble could do that. Like a dancer.” He punctuated it with a wink.
I held up both hands. “Being good at dancing doesn’t make someone a good climber.”
As Andy took out a flashlight to get a better look, I imagined climbing up into the ceiling rafters to connect the rope and sandbags. Just the thought of it paralyzed me with fear. Falling from that height would probably be fatal. No thank you.
“Should we call the police?” I asked.
Ryan gave me a condescending look. “You saw how the last detective acted. He’ll claim one of us did it since we had access.”
“You think we should trigger it?” Andy asked Ryan.
