Obsessed (5 page)

“Where’s Michael?” Carla leaned close to Judy to whisper.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen—there he is!” Judy pointed to the best table in the room, only inches from the stage. “He just sat down. He must have been backstage with Becky.”

Before Judy could say any more, Becky came out on the stage. She was wearing a sweater three sizes too large for her, and a shirt that was a hopelessly awkward length. There were huge horn-rimmed glasses on her face, and she peered at the audience near-sightedly. Her beautiful blonde hair was covered with an ugly brown wig, and she walked flat-footed in her brown lace-up oxfords.

“Hi?” Becky’s voice was small and tentative, as she looked out over the crowd. “My name is Ludmilla Grooch, but you can call me Lud.”

There were titters from the crowd. And then Michael called out, “Hey, Lud. You doing anything after the show tonight?”

Becky smiled, fluffing her awful brown wig. “Sorry, but I’m busy. I’ve got an appointment at the car wash. They let me go through for half price, because I walk.”

The audience started to laugh, but Becky kept a perfectly deadpan expression on her face. “It’s great for my hair, and it gets my clothes clean, too. And sometimes I even . . . but I suppose I shouldn’t tell you this.”

“Tell us!” A table of guys sitting in the back of the room started calling out at her. “Come on, Lud. Tell us!”

“Well . . .” Becky gave them an eager smile. “Sometimes I even take off my clothes. And the attendants are so nice. They leave because they don’t want to embarrass me.”

This time, the whole audience roared. But Becky frowned. “No, honest. The guys at Benny’s car wash are real gentlemen. They even cover their eyes when they run for their cars. And after they leave, I just press that little button for the hot wax. You see, I met this girl, and she said it cost her fifty dollars to get her legs waxed. So I figured . . .
”

Becky didn’t have time to finish her sentence before the whole audience roared again. But something about Becky’s routine was beginning to bother Judy. She glanced over at Carla and winced. As usual, Carla was wearing a shapeless sweater, a baggy skirt, and her horned-rimmed glasses. Her hair wasn’t as awful as Becky’s wig, but it was the exact same color. And Carla was squinting at the stage, the same way Becky was squinting at the audience. Was it a coinci dence? Judy hoped so. If it was intentional, Becky was do ing a very spiteful imitation of Carla.

Judy looked over at Linda, her best friend at the club. Linda was frowning, too. They exchanged worried glances, but Carla was laughing, right along with the rest of the audience. Perhaps they were wrong?

Becky’s routine lasted another ten minutes, and Judy winced all the way through it. When Becky left the stage to a burst of thunderous applause, Judy felt sick. Becky’s rou tine had been excellent. She’d been funnier tonight than she’d ever been at Covers. But Ludmilla Grooch was Carla. Judy was sure of it, although Carla didn’t seem to realize that. She was clapping right along with the rest of the audience.

Becky came out to take a curtain call, and the audience applauded again. Then she hopped down off the stage, ran over to Michael and kissed him. On the lips.

Judy frowned. Michael seemed surprised at the kiss, but he didn’t pull away. He just hugged Becky tightly as he kissed her back, and then he pulled out a chair for her so she could sit down.

There was one more routine, and then a fifteen minute intermission. During the intermission, the Covers group met in the lobby to congratulate Becky. She’d taken off her brown wig and horned-rimmed glasses, and she was beam ing as she accepted everyone’s congratulations.

“That’s a great routine.” Mr. Calloway patted Becky on the back. “Why didn’t you do it at Covers?”

Becky grinned and slipped her arm around Michael’s waist again. “Because it’s new. Michael’s been helping me with the jokes almost every night. And I didn’t want to do it at Covers because it’s based on Carla.”

Judy glanced over at Carla. Had she heard? Apparently not, because she was still smiling. Judy couldn’t believe Becky was being so cruel. She hadn’t even bothered to lower her voice.

“Becky?” Howie Thomas came rushing up, his round face flushed with exertion. “They loved you, kid. Can you work Sundays at nine?”

Becky absolutely beamed. “I’d love to, Mr. Thomas.”

“What do you say we go to my office right after we close, and work out the details? It shouldn’t take more than a half hour or so.”

“Sounds good to me.” Becky turned to Michael with a smile on her face. “I’ll meet you at the apartment in a couple of hours, okay?”

“Don’t you want to go out for a celebration?” Mr. Calloway asked. “I’ll take you all out for pizza, my treat.”

Becky shook her head. “We’ll have to take a raincheck. My older sister’s gone for the weekend, and I’ve got the keys to her apartment. Michael’s heading over there right now to put a bottle of champagne on ice.”

“You drove here? By yourself?” Carla looked worried.

Becky nodded. “Of course I did. And I’ve got a full tank of gas with a locking gas cap, so you guys don’t have to worry. I’ll see you all tomorrow night. And thanks for com ing, okay?”

Everyone started for the door, but Becky called out to Judy. “I need to talk to you, Judy.”

“Yes?” Judy hung back as the others began to leave.

“You might as well mark me down as the winner right now. After I get through with Michael tonight, he’s going to be in no condition to even look at another girl!”

It was past midnight by the time Becky left Laughs Ga lore, but she was so happy, she wasn’t a bit tired. Mr. Thomas hadn’t offered her the salary she’d hoped to get, but it really didn’t matter. She’d be working at two clubs instead of just one. Twice as many people would see her now, and the audience at Laughs Galore was older, which meant she might be able to make valuable contacts.

The moon was almost full, and Becky smiled as she walked across the parking lot. It was a perfect night for romance, and she had her bases covered. Her parents thought she was spending the night with a girlfriend. Since they left for work at seven in the morning, she wouldn’t have to be home until tomorrow afternoon. Twelve hours with Michael should be enough to win that contest.

There was only one other car in the parking lot, and Becky was sure it belonged to Mr. Thomas. Who else would drive a silver Jaguar with a license plate that said YUX? She walked past the Jaguar, wondering when she’d be able to afford a luxury car, and headed toward her bright yellow Toyota. It was a hand-me-down from her mother which her parents had given her at the beginning of the summer when her mother had replaced it with a newer model.

Becky looked into the window to make sure that no one was hiding inside before she unlocked the door. Michael had made her promise to be extra careful since she was driving alone and she’d forgotten her cell phone. She was pleased by all the extra attention she was getting from Michael. He was an absolute hunk, and she was crazy about him. Of course, she was also crazy about Bill Emmerson, and Craig Jensen, but they were sen iors at Burbank High, so she’d have plenty of time for them next year.

Becky got into the car and locked the doors behind her. She wasn’t really worried. Deana had been killed miles from here, but it couldn’t hurt to be careful. She started her Toyota, put it into gear, and drove out of the parking lot with a tri umphant smile on her face. When she arrived at Covers and confirmed that she’d spent the night with Michael, the girls would have to declare her the winner.

She didn’t hear the noise until she’d turned on Sepulveda and was heading up the pass. At first she hoped it was just the uneven road, but the bumping got worse with each pass ing second. A flat tire. And it was almost twelve-thirty in the morning. The houses in the pass were set back from the road, and she doubted that anyone would open their door at this hour. Why hadn’t she taken the freeway, where there were call boxes every mile for emergencies?

Becky got out to look at the tire, and confirmed her worst suspicions. It was as flat as a pancake. She wasn’t even sure how to use the jack, but Michael was waiting at the apartment and she’d just have to figure it out.

A horn beeped, and Becky turned to watch as a car pulled up behind her. She remembered what had happened to Deana, and she opened her car door, intending to get back in and lock all the doors. But then she recognized the car, and she gave a big sigh of relief. What luck! They could leave the car right here by the side of the road, and pick it up in the morning.

But no. The driver was carrying a tire iron. That was even better. If they changed the tire now, she wouldn’t have to leave her car and risk getting a ticket. Becky walked around to the back of the Toyota and opened the trunk. The jack was in here someplace.

She had the jack in her hands, and had just turned to say thanks when she saw the moon glinting off the raised tire iron. A blunt instrument. Deana had been bludgeoned to death with a blunt instrument!

Becky panicked and adrenalin rushed through her veins. She had to get away! She started to run, but her foot slipped on a patch of loose gravel, and she fell heavily to her knees. Then she heard the tire iron whistle through the air, and before she could even raise her arms to ward off the blow, everything went black.

Five

J
udy turned to Michael in alarm. “Are you okay?” she asked. He looked horrible, and that was quite a feat for someone who was as handsome as Michael.

“Yeah. I guess.” Michael sighed, and shook his head. “It’s awful, isn’t it?”

Judy just nodded. Mr. Calloway had told them the news when they’d arrived at Covers for their Monday rehearsal. Becky was dead, bludgeoned to death just like Deana.

“Mr. Calloway wants everyone in the showroom at five o’clock sharp. Some detective from the Burbank Police Force is coming to talk to us.”

“But why does he want to talk to us? The police don’t think one of us killed Becky, do they?”

“Of course not.” Michael draped a friendly arm around her shoulders. “Relax, Jude. Detective Davis just wants to find out more about Becky’s personal life.”

Judy snuggled up a little closer to Michael. Was he be ginning to think of her as more than just the kid next door? But he gave her a quick, friendly squeeze and dropped his arm. Judy stepped back, and did her best to keep the dis appointment from showing on her face. “I really didn’t know that much about Becky. Did you?”

“I knew a little. Her favorite color was blue, she loved pizza with anchovies, and she was afraid of dogs. That’s about it.”

“Really?” Judy stared hard at Michael, but he seemed totally sincere. Perhaps he really hadn’t been as involved with Becky as everyone had thought. “But . . . Becky told me she was going to spend the night with you last night.”

Michael looked very embarrassed as he nodded. “Uh . . . yeah. That’s true, Jude. Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course you can!”

“Becky arranged the whole thing. It was supposed to be a sort of celebration, with champagne and everything. She . . . uh . . . she kind of sprung it on me at the last minute. Becky was pretty young, and I usually don’t . . . are you sure you want to hear this?”

Judy nodded. “You can tell me, Michael. I won’t repeat it. I promise.”

“I know you won’t.” Michael smiled at her. “I trust you, Jude. And I really need someone to talk to.”

Judy nodded. She wanted to say that she’d always be here for him, but that could come later. “Tell me, Michael.”

“I didn’t want to do anything that might upset Becky before her audition, so I just nodded and said whatever she wanted was fine with me. I’d like to think I would have talked her into going home, that I wouldn’t have taken ad vantage of the situation, but . . . I just don’t know. Becky was an attractive girl. I’ll never know what would have hap pened if she’d met me at the apartment.”

It was clear that Michael felt terribly guilty, and Judy wanted to reassure him. “It doesn’t really matter now, Michael. Becky didn’t get to the apartment. And you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I guess you’re right. I just don’t want anyone to know. Please don’t mention it to Detective Davis, okay?”

“Are you afraid you’ll get into trouble?”

“That’s part of it, sure. But there’s another reason. I don’t think it’s fair to ruin Becky’s reputation over something that never happened. Her parents don’t know, and well . . . they might be even more upset if they found out.”

“You’re right.” Judy nodded. Michael was a totally nice guy. He cared about Becky’s reputation and her parents’ feelings; even though Becky was dead. “I won’t say any thing, Michael. And don’t worry. I’ll explain it to everyone else, and they won’t say anything, either.”

“Thanks, Jude. You’re a real pal, you know?”

Judy sighed as Michael walked away. A real pal. Michael was still thinking of her as the little kid next door. But it was clear he liked her. And he trusted her, too. Now all she had to do was get him to see her as an attractive woman, the woman he wanted to date. Perhaps it was terribly wrong of her to even think this way, but attracting Michael would be a lot easier now that Becky was gone.

Judy frowned deeply. Of course she’d never confess her inner thoughts to anyone at the club. It had been perfectly all right to dislike Becky when she was still alive, but now that she was dead, everyone at the club seemed to regard her as some kind of saint. Judy knew that Becky hadn’t been a bad person, but she had been terribly thoughtless. Becky had never stopped to consider anyone else’s feelings. Basing her routine on Carla had been a very unkind thing to do, especially since Becky had come right out and ad mitted that Carla had been the model for her character. And even worse, Becky had taken that silly contest much too seriously. She’d wanted to win so much, she’d lied to her parents and arranged to spend the night with Michael. Becky had tried to trap Michael, and that hadn’t been fair at all.