But Caleb was also her way in, if she wanted to get in without alerting every person in the building that there was an FBI agent on site.
“Let’s go take a look,” she said, turning to find him watching her expectantly. “I want to check out the exact auditorium we’re looking for. Can you take me there?”
“Sure, if they’ll let us inside,” Caleb said. “But that shouldn’t be a problem for you, right? Being an agent?”
“Let’s keep that between us, for now,” Laura said. “I don’t want to put any potential suspects on alert. We’re just two actors, right?”
“Got it,” Caleb said, unbuckling his belt to get out of the car. He flashed her a grin. “I’ll introduce you as my leading lady.”
Laura felt her cheeks momentarily heating and was glad he wouldn’t see because he was already getting out of the passenger door. She mentally shook her head, trying to stay focused. Flattery, or flirting, was nice, but it wouldn’t get a killer caught.
They approached the entrance together, but Caleb quickly pointed out a white piece of paper attached to the door. It read: “LEFTSIDE PRODUCTIONS – AUDITIONS INSIDE”.
The perfect hunting ground for a killer who liked acting coaches.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Laura took an unsteady breath, looking at the sign with apprehension. She had never been inside an audition space before, had no idea what to expect. Would they even let her inside unless she was trying out? She didn’t want to blow her cover before she’d had a chance to find the killer, and while showing a badge might get her in, it would also make her obvious.
“This is good news,” he assured her. “I’ll just say we’re here for the auditions. You can just follow my lead. If anyone asks, we can say that you’re here as my moral support, not to audition yourself.”
Laura nodded. “I’ll let you lead the way,” she said, with some relief. The last thing she wanted was some comedy of errors where she somehow ended up having to accidentally fake her way through an audition in ord
er to avoid alerting the killer that she had found him.
They threaded their way through a marble entrance hall, past a bored-looking receptionist who simply waved them through. On the other side of a set of double doors was some kind of clerk with a clipboard, taking names with the same level of enthusiasm.
While Caleb offered up his details, Laura looked past him and into the auditorium. The space was exactly as she remembered it, and this was the view she had seen. There were people sitting in the rows further back, loosely grouped; Laura gathered these must be actors waiting for their turn or others who had come to watch. Caleb turned to tell her he was done and beckon her forward, and they quickly joined the ranks of those sitting to watch.
The stage was currently occupied by two actors, a man and woman. They appeared to be playing a scene together, holding scripts in their hands. In the front row, there was a director, or so Laura assumed, sitting on his own. He had a stack of files beside him on a chair, and he was watching the actors with interest, occasionally calling out directions to them. She had not noticed him in the vision, but then she had only been able to see so much. The killer had been so focused on the woman he was targeting that he had not turned from side to side. She had no way of knowing if the director had really been there in her vision, or whether she needed to wait for him to leave before it was time for things to happen.
And then again, it was also possible for things in her visions to change before becoming reality. The very act of her coming here had could have changed the order of things. For all she knew, it was Caleb who was the killer, and having Laura at his side meant that he would not strike at all. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought, and Caleb glanced at her with concern.
“Are you cold in here?” he asked.
“No, no,” Laura assured him. “Just someone walking over my grave.”
The phrase was an unfortunate one, particularly since once she had said it, she could not take it back. The image echoed in her mind, adding to the general feeling of suspense and apprehension that she felt. The killer could be here, even right now, and she needed to identify him before he took the chance to strike again.
Laura focused on the actors playing their roles. The director called out to send the woman off stage, letting the man continue alone.
“Do you know this play?” Laura whispered. She could hardly follow the lines. She had too many other things to think about.
“No, it must be something new,” Caleb whispered back. “I’ll see if I can spot a script lying around.”
“Alright!” the director called out. “Thank you.”
The male actor nodded and turned, obviously dismissed, and the assistant near the door called out two more names to send them onto the stage.
Rather than coming out from the chairs in the audience, the two new actors appeared from a partition that was not immediately obvious at the back of the stage. They had clearly been preparing behind there, both of them ready with their scripts in their hands. The man who had been running his lines passed them and went through the same gap they had appeared from, moving out of sight.
“I need to get backstage,” Laura said, leaning over to murmur it in Caleb’s ear. She was sure this was what she had seen. The killer and the woman would both walk off the stage together, him coming from further back in the rows of chairs and her perhaps leaving the stage after her audition. That partition was where they would go. But from this side, Laura could do nothing. She couldn’t just get up and run after them – not if she wanted to actually catch the killer doing something incriminating which would stand up in court.
No, she needed to be on the other side of the partition, so she could see what happened.
“I’ll get you there,” Caleb said. He stood up with a grin, gesturing for her to follow him again. He slipped out to the wings, following the direction of another piece of printed paper bearing an arrow, and then through to a door which was once again guarded by a clipboard-wielding assistant. This time it was a man, or rather a boy, who looked about seventeen years old. Laura guessed he probably worked in the theatre part-time alongside his schoolwork.
“Audition number?” he said, staring at them both with dull and uninterested eyes. Laura guessed from the way all the staff seemed to be bored out of their minds that it must have been a long and repetitive day of auditions.