Murder in the Wings
“At first, as I moved into the hall, it was almost like being blind. Moisture from the night and my nerves stuck my shirt to my back. In my hand I carried a piece of plumbing pipe I'd found in a storage closet. I'd made Donna stay behind.
He moved.
From what I could gather, as my eyes began to adjust, he was behind several big packing crates. The noise was his jacket scraping against the rough boards of the crates. A rasping, like rats in walls.
I knew he might be any sort of vandal or vagrant, but I didn't think he was. There were plenty of hiding places on the first floor. He had chosen to be near the classroom because the acting class interested him. I was beginning to form an impression of who he might be.
The pipe in my hand was rusting from my sweat as I saw him dart across the hall from one big crate to another.
"Stop!" I yelled. Maybe he'd think I was a cop. But you couldn't say I impressed him much.
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