Chapter Fourteen
Settling into their seats, Michael anxiously looked around the room. He was pleased that they arrived before too many seats were taken. He noticed that no expense was spared in designing and decorating this theatre. It was impeccably decorated. The walls were covered with the finest burgundy-colored velvet wallpaper that complemented endless rows of tiered, oversized cushioned seats, carefully arranged for optimum viewing. Virtually every seat had a clear view of the stage, which appeared to be partitioned off from the audience by a thin clear protective wall of what appeared to be glass or plastic. That is odd, Michael thought. The lighting above the stage was beyond anything Michael had ever seen. There appeared to be multiple lights focused on every square inch of the entire stage. Along the floor, at the base of the partition, appeared to be a single long row of small light fixtures, that appeared to be aimed toward the center of ceiling above the stage.
It wasn't long before the theatre was filled to capacity and the room buzzed with the sounds of people chattering and settling into their seats. Lena hadn't arrived yet, but Cleon made sure to save her a seat, hoping for the best.
Suddenly the lights on the stage brightened and the Manager of The Getaway slowly walked onto center stage. A hush fell as the audience became aware of the Manager's presence on stage. Holding a wireless microphone, he began his introduction.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," he began. "Let me introduce myself. I am Tony Marino the Manager of The Getaway. Welcome to our first concert here in the Music Hall. Thank you for coming, we hope you enjoy the show. I'd like to invite you all to meet with the band in the lobby for autographs and refreshments following the show. We here at the Getaway, are pleased to present to you the band, Class Action."
As everyone clapped, the lights dimmed and Tony Marino made a brisk exit off the stage and out of view.
The band members appeared and quickly took their places on stage. As the clapping died down, the floor lights brightened and in moments the theatre filled with the up-beat, melodic notes of the first song.
Michael's eyes set firmly on the only female band member the moment she came into view. She was dressed in a shimmering gold, satin, blouse and matching skirt ensemble that accentuated the virtues of her petite figure. Her long, flowing, wavy, blonde hair bounced lightly with her every step.
"It IS her!" Michael said breathlessly, immediately captivated by her presence.
Her make-up accentuated her deep blue eyes as she glanced at the audience and then focused her full attention on the lead male singer standing next to her.
Michael's heart pounded. He couldn't take his eyes off her, wanting to absorb her every movement.
Focusing on Stevie, the lead singer crooned the words of a familiar love song....
"Here we are alone at last
Face to face with no distractions
Reaching out each of our separate world
Everything happened so fast
What could have been a chain reaction
Who can say where it might be tonight, oh oh, oh"
As Stevie joined in, the pair appeared to be lost in a world all their own, singing passionately of spending their first night together. There was no denying the chemistry between the two singers. Michael immediately recognized this song as one he had performed with Stevie last year and suddenly found himself wishing it were he that was on the stage with Stevie. As the songs continued, Michael sat mesmerized by Stevie's performance.
Feelings of anger and jealousy began to rise, giving way to disappointment as Michael realized that Stevie may have moved on to a new love. He had to see her and talk with her. He had to know.
All too soon the last song ended and the band exited the stage. The house lights brightened and the crowd thinned as people poured out of the theatre.
Lena had arrived sometime during the concert and was now lost in conversation with Cleon explaining something about technical problems with holographic equipment behind the stage.
Jake was busy complaining to Dora about the unnatural and dangerous effects of loud rock music on the human ears thus arousing Kitt's interest.
"Classical music is much more soothing and uplifting. I prefer Beethoven or Mozart myself," Kitt commented to Jake matter-of-factly.
Michael stood up and stretched. "You would say that Kitt," Michael said snidely, instantly regretting his caustic tone.
"Michael, are you alright?" Kitt asked, taking a quick scan of Michael's vital signs. "Didn't you enjoy the concert?" he asked.
"Of course he did," Cleon interjected, slapping Michael on the back playfully. "What do you say we go meet the band now?" Cleon asked the group.
"Yes, Michael. I'm anxious to see Stephanie again," Kitt answered facing Michael.
"Me too, old buddy. Me too," Michael agreed, patting Kitt on the shoulder.
Cleon led the group out of the theatre into the lobby area. Two large serving tables displayed an assortment of refreshments. Several small tables with chairs were scattered throughout the center of the lobby. A long table with four chairs was set up at the far end of the lobby. A large white banner with the words Class Action hung on the wall above the table. The band members were busily autographing photographs for the long line of eager guests.
"Michael, do you recognize that woman in the corner near the entranceway?" Kitt asked.
Michael reluctantly pulled his attention from Stevie to the woman in the corner, an attractive raven-haired young woman in her mid-thirties. She was immaculately dressed in a flattering, stylish, navy-blue business suit. Talking angrily into her cell phone, the woman's miserable attempt to be discrete was failing.
"That is unacceptable! I want this taken care of tonight!" she growled into the phone before slapping it shut.
Just then Tony Marino appeared. He frantically looked around the lobby and hurried over to the angry woman. Apologizing profusely, he handed her a slip of paper and followed her as she stormed out of the room.
"Not a happy camper," Michael commented turning his attention back to Stevie and the line that was beginning to diminish. He was anxious to get near her.
"Michael," Kitt repeated slowly. "That woman is Konstance Packard."
"Huh?" Michael mumbled, returning his gaze to Kitt. "Why does that name sound familiar?" he asked.
"Konstance Packard formerly known as Konstance Knight is the 2nd wife of the late Wilton Knight, benefactor of F.L.A.G." Kitt explained.
"hmmm, interesting," Michael commented, not really paying attention to Kitt.
"Michael, why don't you get in line and talk to her already," Kitt urged. "We'll wait here."
"Why don't you all get some refreshments, while I have a word with Stevie?" Michael suggested as he stepped away making a b-line to Stevie.
Dora, Jake, Cleon and Lena wandered over to the refreshments smiling and chatting amicably amongst themselves, while Kitt remained where he was monitoring the situation with Michael.
The line had dwindled down to the last few and Michael was the last in line. He had planned on being the last to have her attention so that he could have her to himself.
Finally the moment was here. He stepped forward as the person in front of him moved aside. He smiled down at her waiting patiently, as she signed her name to a large glossy photograph taken from the stack beside her.
"Whom shall I make this out to?" she asked as she looked up into his eyes.
Michael rested his hands on the table and leaned forward bending down closer to her. "Stevie, its me," he said expectantly.
Stevie looked quizzically into Michael's eyes, "Do I know you?" she asked.
"Stevie, it's me, Michael," he answered, sensing something was wrong. Why is she looking at me like that? He wondered.
"Oh yes, nice to see you again, Michael," she said quickly, handing him the signed photograph and rising to her feet.
"Stevie, listen, can we talk?" he asked. Sensing her uneasiness he attributed it to the awkwardness of having her new beau seated beside her.
"I'm sorry, I must go," she said quickly as she stepped away from the table toward the door.
Stunned, Michael was speechless by her reaction and abrupt behavior. "Wait!!!" he called after her as she slipped out the door and into the darkness.
Michael turned to chase after her, but was held back by the man presumed to be Stevie's new beau. "I think you should let her be," he said firmly.
"This doesn't concern you," Michael said firmly as he ripped from the man's grasp and escaped into the night.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the evening, he quickly looked about for any sign of Stevie. There were scattered groups of people here and there, but no sign of her.
As Michael stepped back into the lobby, Kitt approached him.
"Did you get to talk with Stevie?" Kitt asked. "It doesn't appear to have gone well."
"No, Kitt, it didn't go well. She didn't even recognize me! Something is wrong around here, Kitt, and I am going to find out what it is," Michael declared.
"Michael, do you know who that man is, I mean the lead singer?" Kitt asked.
Michael quickly glanced around, trying to locate him. "He's not here," Michael answered, "Do you know who he is?" Michael asked, wondering what Kitt was getting at.
"Well Michael, he appears to be Greg Noble, the lead singer of the group Class Action," Kitt began.
"Wait a minute," Michael said, slowly realizing what was wrong. "Isn't he the guy that was murdered last year?"
"Yes, Michael. That is correct. In fact, you solved his murder by taking his place in the band," Kitt announced. "How can this be?" he asked.
"That's what I want to know, Kitt. That's exactly what I'm gonna find out!" he answered with a look of determination.