Never Thwart a Thespian: Volume 8 (Leigh Koslow Mystery Series) by Edie Claire

Bessie.”
    The two exchanged a private look, causing Leigh to wonder suddenly just how much of her aunt’s flirtation was play-acting. The man had called her “Bessie” twice now and lived to tell about it. Interesting.
    “Now, as I said,” Gordon repeated, stepping around to face Sonia again. “I want to get this over with. You said you had another offer. Let’s hear it.”
    Sonia’s eyes darted nervously toward Bess again. She cleared her throat, but said nothing.
    Gordon sighed. “Bess, dear, would you and your niece mind excusing the three of us for a moment?”
    Bess gasped. “You won’t—”
    Gordon held up a hand. “Just let me hear her out, then you can show me whatever it is you want to show me. All right?”
    After a moment’s indecision, Bess relented. She turned toward the door and gestured for Leigh to follow her. “I suspect our dinner is getting cold, anyway,” she said with a sniff.
    “Bess?” Warren called just as the two women reached the door. “I marked your enchiladas with those red cherry peppers you like. The Pack wouldn’t dare touch them.”
    Leigh watched as her aunt’s eyes glowed softly, then began to moisten. Bess turned around just long enough to give a curt nod, then swept herself quickly through the door. “Damn, he’s good,” she muttered, swiping at one eye.
    Leigh laughed out loud. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
    ***
    “Well?” Leigh asked later when Bess appeared, alone, in the doorway of the old Sunday school classroom the Pack were using as a staging area for prop inventory. “Was Gordon impressed with the tour?”
    Bess dropped down into an empty folding chair with a sigh. “I believe so, yes. He never thought we could accomplish this much this fast, that’s for sure.”
    “And his meeting with Sonia?”
    Bess gave Leigh a sideways glance. Her lips twisted ruefully. “That horrid little woman. I swear to you, she’ll stop at nothing to get this place back from Gordon. She’s upped her offer, do you believe that? Significantly. And she insists that time is of the essence. She wants this place now, or not at all.”
    “What did Gordon say? Is he considering it?”
    Bess sighed. “I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me. He and your husband are deep in discussion over the topic, even as we speak.” She raised a carefully manicured fingernail to her lips and began to nibble.
    Leigh gently reached up and pulled the hand away. “Don’t fret, Aunt Bess. Gordon doesn’t strike me as the type who’s easily pressured by the likes of Sonia Crane. If he promised you he wouldn’t make a final decision until after opening night, I’m sure he’ll stick to that. Particularly now that he’s seen the result of all your hard work.”
    Bess’s expression hardened. “He had darn well better! And if that grasping, pint-sized she-devil doesn’t lay off between now and then— ”
    “That reminds me,” Leigh interrupted, lowering her voice. The Pack seemed otherwise occupied, but she’d been burned by that charade before. “Sonia Crane doesn’t strike me as a woman who’s afraid of much, yet she’s obviously terrified of you. Now, tell me what you did to her. I really don’t want to have to bail you out of jail over this.”
    Bess drew herself up indignantly. “What exactly do you take me for? I never laid a finger on the wench! She’s a lawyer, for heaven’s sake. If I had accosted her in any way, don’t you think she’d sue the pants off of me?”
    Leigh considered. She was about to try another tack when a cell phone dinged. Bess reached into her pocket and looked at the screen.
    “Oh, dear,” she murmured, rising. “Camille’s outside.”
    “Who?”
    “Camille Capone, the director of the show.” Bess glanced around quickly at the piles of props. “All right, staff!” she announced, raising her voice. “I have your first requisition. The actors will be here for rehearsal shortly, and as you know, I promised we’d have everything set up in