All the World

All the World

Rachel L. Vaughan

Copyright © 2015 by Rachel L. Vaughan. All rights reserved. This work may not be reproduced or retransmitted without permission.

Table of Contents

1.
Vernon Hills                                                        6

2. The Local Characters                            17

3. Flying with Wax Wings                            33

4. Destruction of Art                                          55

5. The Drama Begins                                          73

6. No Yarrow for Sorrow                            107

7. The Playwright’s Blood                            125

8. The Star-Crossed Lovers                            147

9. Madness in Great Ones                            170

10. A Fractured Conscience                            189

11. Blood will have Blood                            213

12. Hidden in Plain Sight                            236

13. A Needle as Deadly as a Sword              263

14. Cover in the Water                            281

15. Man is a Nasty Piece of Work              306

16. Truth and Help                                          333

17. Accidental Assistance                            357

18. Players Put to Rest                            383

19. Denouement                                          402

Author’s Note                                           426

“All the world’s a stage,

And all the men and women merely players:

They have their exits and entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts”

—William Shakespeare
As You Like It,
Act II, scene vii

Chapter One: Vernon Hills

              Lexie Stanley’s foot tapped lightly against the coffee table. As usual, her best friend was late. Usually, Lexie didn’t mind Flora’s lack of punctuality. Flora’s job at the newspaper office sometimes had odd hours, and the drive from Washington D.C. to Vernon Hills was a good forty-five minutes. However, Lexie was currently stuck at the Piazza Café without a key to the apartment she was now sharing with Flora. The apartment was on the floor above the café, but the Terrace family, who owned the place, had told her that Flora kept both keys.

              They had been roommates in college and remained friends for the past two years after graduation. Somehow, they both managed to find jobs in Washington D.C. several months after graduation. Flora worked as a receptionist and office aid at
The Washington Post
. Lexie had worked at a child care center until finding a job at a therapy and counseling practice a few months ago. Flora, who was already living in Vernon Hills, suggested they share an apartment since rent was too expensive in the city. Lexie accepted Flora’s offer after visiting Vernon Hills, and most of her belongings were already waiting in her bedroom.

              “Where are you, Flora?” Lexie muttered, her dark blue eyes filled with annoyance. It was getting dark.

              She wanted to explore downtown, but she didn’t have a place to keep the rest of her luggage. The main thoroughfare, Avon Road, was lined with a collection of shops with façades of all types. The Piazza Café and apartment had an Italian look with a gabled roof, cream-colored stone, and a balcony with floral patterned console brackets. The door and shutters were russet red. Across the street was a fashion jewelry shop called I Am Egypt which had very orange brick and a large window displaying jewelry with brilliant blue stones and flashy gold pendants. Flora had told her that the owner was an arrogant Egyptian woman. West Avon Road ended at a disused railroad station turned into the Rail View Restaurant, and East Avon Road continued out of Vernon Hills. The Windsor Bar, a popular rendezvous, was located a few shops away from the café. Flora was planning to introduce Lexie to the locals that night. Lexie found the variety of shops a charming trait of Vernon Hills. Should she want a weekend job, there were plenty of places to choose from.

              “You seem lost,” a mournful voice murmured.

              She turned to see a man clad in black with a houndstooth print scarf draped around his neck pouring creamer into his coffee. He had a long face with dark eyes and a wide, downturned mouth. The combination gave him a permanently melancholy appearance. He looked to be in his forties.

              “Excuse me?” she asked hesitantly.

              The man sipped his drink and sighed. “I said you seem lost, though I expect many of us will be lost without the theatre.”

             
He must be one of those drama people self-diagnosed with depression.
Lexie had met plenty of them while being dragged to theatres by Flora, and she was pleased that her friend could tell the difference between the stage and the real world.

              “My friend Flora Brookes acts in theatres. She’s involved here. Do you know her?” Lexie expected she would be properly introduced to this man by Flora soon enough. There was no point shrugging him off.

              The man nodded. “Ah, dear Flora—such a talented girl. I wish she would act full-time. If she gave up that newspaper job, she could make it in New York.”

              Lexie smiled. “She would love to hear that. I know she enjoys the other actors in Vernon Hills.”

              “I doubt we will have any when the theatre is destroyed.”

              “What are you talking about?”

              He tossed a newspaper to Lexie before wandering off, muttering about the destruction of art.

              She picked up the paper and started to read.

The iconic Stratford Theatre in Vernon Hills is being torn down and replaced by a research lab for Garland Corporation. Billionaire and co-owner, Cesare Garland, insists that a new theatre can be built closer to the downtown area of Vernon Hills with funds from Garland Corporation’s account.

              Lexie ran a hand over her face. Cesare Garland. Did Flora know he had bought land in Vernon Hills? Of course she did! She worked at a newspaper office, and this deal did not sound like something new. Lexie had managed to escape Cesare two years ago. Now her past was invading what she hoped to be a promising future.

              Cesare Garland and Lexie had met in college freshman year. She didn’t know why she had dated him. Looks? Money? Charm? He had everything a girl could want until he was given part of his family’s research company senior year by his father Guillaume. His ego went through the roof when he became a famous billionaire. It took less than three months for Lexie to grow frustrated with Cesare.  She ended the relationship shortly before graduation. Cesare was soon involved in a scandal with a French model named Marguerite. Truth be told, leaving Cesare was one of Lexie’s best decisions, and it had been a relatively peaceful break up. However, the tabloids had enjoyed poking around her life when they were dating, as Lexie had been his longest romantic “relationship.” What would happen if they discovered she was living in Vernon Hills?

              “So sorry! I got held up at the office talking about overcrowding on the Metro.” A skinny woman with choppy, blond hair and an overabundance of energy rushed over.

              Lexie didn’t say a single word.

              “I told Mrs. Terrace you were coming and to let you in. I left the extra key with Giulia this morning. You remember Giulia Terrace, right? She’s that high school student who tried to sneak out at two in the morning the last time you were here.” Flora stopped speaking when she finally noticed Lexie’s grim look. Her eyes flickered toward the newspaper. “Oh…”

              “Did you know about this?”

              Flora chewed at her lip. “I knew you’d be angry.”

              Lexie crossed her arms to resist dumping the remains of her iced coffee on Flora’s head. “Then why didn’t you say anything? I’d rather have known before I got here. I hate surprises…especially ones that have to do with ex-boyfriends.”

              “Cesare isn’t moving here. He’ll just own some land and a damn lab. Why couldn’t he build his stupid lab somewhere else? The theatre is a historic building!”

              “You should have told me. What will happen if his agents learn I’m living here? I can see the tabloids now: ‘Billionaire Stalked by Ex at Research Lab.’”

              Flora took the paper and tossed it. “You haven’t talked to him since you broke up, and it seems that he’s had quite a few flings. No offense, but you’re really nothing more than a footnote in his book. Don’t worry about him. The jackass isn’t worth your thoughts.”

              Lexie finally smiled. “Let’s go up to the apartment.”

              Lexie and Flora grabbed the three bags and lugged them up the narrow staircase at the back of the café. The apartment looked just like it had during Lexie’s last visit. The pastel blue walls, sheer gold curtains, and numerous Claude Monet paintings gave the apartment an ethereal atmosphere. Flora dramatically claimed the soft colors were calming and eased her mind. The oak furniture was battered and old, but it suited the apartment. Tattered play scripts littered the table in the living room and coffee mugs were piled in the kitchen sink. A balcony, leading from the living room, provided a nice view of Avon Road.

              “Welcome to your new home!” Flora said cheerfully. “I didn’t unpack any of your stuff. It’s still all boxed up in your room.”

              Lexie was going to thank her, but Flora’s phone went off. She excused herself into the kitchen, and Lexie dragged her luggage to her room. During her previous visit, Lexie and Flora had painted her bedroom walls yellow and hung up moss green curtains. The wardrobe, dresser, and full-length mirror were painted white. Flora wasn’t a huge fan of the design, but Lexie argued that it was her room. She could decorate it however she wanted.

              “Hey, Lexie,” Flora shouted from the kitchen, “I just got off the phone with Bryony. She’s waiting for us at the bar.”

              “I thought she worked there,” Lexie answered when she reached the kitchen. Flora had mentioned Bryony before. Bryony Arden was a sharp-tongued actress from Maine who worked on plays in D.C. with Flora. Most of her money, however, came from working as a bartender at the Windsor Bar.

              “She does, but she asked off tonight.” Flora leaned against the counter, knocking a postcard to the floor.

              Lexie recognized the handwriting as Flora’s on and off again boyfriend for the last five years. “How’s Nickolas?”

              “Good, good,” Flora said quickly. “He just got back from his trip to Denmark three days ago. He went to visit his grandparents. That’s just a postcard he sent from Copenhagen. It’s beautiful, and I want to visit one day. Nickolas bought me this ring. He said he wanted to get me something better than the citrine necklace he got me last year in Dauphine, France.”

              Flora held out her right hand, displaying a ruby ring accented with diamonds. Lexie couldn’t imagine how much it must have cost. The gold band alone was probably worth more than a single paycheck. Lexie remembered the citrine necklace. Nickolas never bought anything cheap for Flora.

              Nickolas Lindegaard was the stepson and nephew of Lexie’s employer. It was through him that she got her job at Lindegaard Counseling and Therapy. Lexie was grateful for his help, but she hated that Flora’s bouts of despair were triggered by Nickolas’s erratic nature.

              “Wasn’t there a plan for you to go to Denmark with him?” Lexie reminded her. “You were going to write a travel piece for the newspaper. It was going to be your big break.”

              Flora crossed her arms and bit her lip. “It didn’t work out this time. He wanted to visit Europe for like three or four months, and he wasn’t going to book his return flight until after he got to Denmark. I could take off work for that long. Maybe it was best that I didn’t go this time. He’s so fickle.”

             
You can do better than him.
Lexie kept her thought to herself. She didn’t feel like fighting with Flora about Nickolas again. There wasn’t much she could do to make her fall out of love with him.

              “So, are we heading out now?” Lexie asked with a toss of her long, mahogany brown hair.

              Flora grinned, grabbed Lexie’s arm, and dragged her out of the apartment. “Alexandra Stanley, it’s time for you to meet the locals!”