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

measured slowness, she began to raise her arms until both hands were high above her head. Then she tossed back her chin and shouted at the top of her lungs. “Let there be light!”
    Leigh, Warren, and the Pack all started in surprise.
    Bess merely rolled her eyes. “I told you already — Kevin can’t load the lights in until tomorrow. For tonight, we’ll just have to make do.”
    Camille hadn’t moved. Her face was still pointed toward the ceiling. “Yet it be true that darkness approacheth, Elizabeth, in all its cruel and gentle beauty. Shall we light candles, then?”
    This time, Bess gave a start. Then she looked up and uttered an expletive. “The lights!” she moaned. “I completely forgot! Three of the four right over the stage are burned out. Once the sun sets, the actors won’t be able to see a thing!” She glanced toward the door to the annex, then snapped her fingers with annoyance. “And the men have left already, of course. I found two bulbs in the old choir room; I was going to have Ned put them in this afternoon—”
    “I can change the bulbs for you, Bess,” Warren offered, rising. “Assuming you can reach them from the attic?”
    Bess’s face brightened. “Why, yes,” she said warmly. “The inspector mentioned that; he showed me the access panel. Would you mind, terribly?”
    Warren flashed a killer smile. “My pleasure.”
    “Let there be light!” Camille repeated, still holding her pose.
    The Pack, which up to now had been admirably silent, dissolved into muffled giggles.
    “You don’t have to do this, you know,” Leigh whispered into Warren’s ear. Her husband had a brilliant mind for both finances and politics, but when it came to being “handy” around the house, he was as worthless as she was. Any task requiring more than a screwdriver had always resulted in a call to her Aunt Lydie. Changing a light bulb required no great technical acumen, true, but he had dressed for a business meeting.
    “Small price to pay,” Warren whispered back.
    “I can help you, Dad!” Ethan said eagerly, rising.
    Leigh had a sudden image of her exuberant son putting a foot through the drywall and crashing thirty feet to the sanctuary below. “I don’t think so,” she said quickly. “I can help.”
    “You boys can go get the ladder,” Bess instructed. “The one that’s in the old church office. Take it up those stairs in the curved hallway to the second level. We’ll meet you there.”
    The boys headed off, and Bess leaned over toward Allison and Lenna. “I’ll need you two to turn the lights off and on and let us know if the new ones are working. And…” she said heavily, tilting her head toward the stage where Camille now drifted in rapid circles around the chancel, muttering to herself. “Keep an eye on her, could you please?”
    The girls nodded. “Don’t worry Aunt Bess,” Allison said solemnly. “I’ll watch her.”
    Leigh and Warren followed Bess out into the curved hallway and up the staircase. “Okay,” Leigh said when they reached the second floor. “I have to ask. How exactly did Camille Capone get to be a director for the North Boros Thespian Society?”
    Bess stifled a low groan. “Because Charlie Capone caters our dinner theaters every November, that’s why. He’s got a fabulous reputation and he charges us next to nothing, which is the only reason we make any real money. The revenue from the dinner theater makes up more than half our yearly budget.”
    “Gotcha,” Leigh replied.
    “We only let her do one show a year,” Bess continued. “Generally, whichever one she can do the least damage to. This show’s pretty easy, and she was overdue, so my objections got overruled.”
    “Is this the panel, Bess?” Warren asked, pointing up to a warped ceiling tile covered with water stains.
    “That’s it,” she answered. The boys appeared with the ladder, and she instructed them to put it under the tile. “The inspector just lifted it and pushed it to the