Read Online The Skeleton Haunts a House by Leigh Perry - Free Book Online Page A

and the night’s Halloween Howl festivities weren’t due to start until four, there were more people out and about on the McQuaid quad than usual for a Saturday afternoon. A small horde of physical plant people and student volunteers were gathering debris and emptying trash cans, trying to get the grounds cleaned up before they all got messed up again.
    The front door to McHades Hall was striped with yellow crime-scene tape, and there were signs that said
Closed until further notice
on the ticket tent and the front entrance. An extremely bored-looking Pennycross police officer was stationed at the door.
    â€œHi. My daughter works here and we were told she could come claim her belongings.”
    â€œCan I see some identification?” she asked.
    I pulled out my driver’s license and Madison handed over her student ID. The officer radioed somebody, gave our names, then handed back our cards. “You’re clear.”
    â€œIs the press causing problems?”
    She nodded, looking disgusted. “We gave them everything we could, and they still want to poke around. Head in and somebody will escort you to the greenroom.”
    That wasn’t good to hear. I didn’t know how we’d be able to sneak Sid out with a police officer in attendance.
    The building was chilly, despite the sunny afternoon, and the place was dark thanks to the blackout curtains hung over every window to maintain the spooky atmosphere. An officer was waiting just inside the door and he said, “Come on up.”
    â€œI know the way,” Madison said.
    â€œMy orders are to stay with you.” He led us up the two flights of the main stairs, through a set of wooden double doors, and into a large room that looked as if it took up most of the floor. Despite all the dark woodwork, it was surprisingly bright, with skylights letting in the October afternoon sunlight.
    â€œI think this was used for studio art classes when this building was first built,” I said, remembering an article I’d read in the college paper. “It started out as the McQuaid School of Art, and then morphed into the university.”
    â€œI didn’t know that,” Madison said.
    There was a handful of other people in the room: Louis, yet another cop, Oscar from McQuaid security, Deborah, and an assortment of young people I assumed were cast members, though I didn’t recognize any of them without their guts hanging out.
    â€œHey, guys,” Deborah said. “I hope you’re not in a hurry. Louis says he has to inspect all the bags, despite the fact that they found the murder weapon last night.” She made a face at a table where Louis and a uniformed officer were searching through a cast member’s pocketbook.
    â€œSo much for our rescue mission,” I said under my breath.
    â€œDon’t worry, I’ve got it covered,” Deborah said. “So this is the greenroom. Men’s room on one side, women’s room onthe other. A kitchen on the end. Lockers next to that for cast members to keep their stuff. I make them lock up their cell phones so they don’t spend all night taking selfies and posting pictures of people looking scared on Facebook. There’s always somebody on duty in here to help with makeup and wardrobe malfunctions, and somebody else mans the kitchen and the first aid kit. The crew takes breaks up here and waits for their shifts to start.”
    â€œOkay,” I said, wondering why she was being so chatty.
    â€œWe’ve got chairs and couches for people to relax over there. Makeup tables by the wall, though a lot of kids do their own at home. That whiteboard by the door has the cast schedule and a place for them to sign in and out. They do get paid—not a lot, because the point is to raise money for the Scholars Committee—but paying them means they show up as scheduled. Most of the time. Everybody who was scheduled was actually here last