Killing Time (A Dodie O’Dell Mystery)
Cozy Mystery
6th in Series
Publisher: Lyrical Press (June 2, 2020)
Number of Pages: 215

Synopsis

 

With Halloween just around the corner, Dodie O’Dell is making preparations to transform the Windjammer Restaurant on the Jersey Shore into a haunted house, while the Etonville Little Theatre is staging Dracula. But casting the titular Transylvanian is proving challenging. The amateur actors in the company are not shy about chewing the scenery, but who among them can convincingly sink their fangs into a victim’s neck? When a mysterious newcomer with a transfixing Eastern European accent lands the part, rumors that he might be an actual vampire start to take flight—not unlike the bat who’s recently been spotted in the town park.

 

But everyone’s blood really runs cold when a stranger is found in the cemetery with a real stake in his heart. Dodie decides to put her Halloween theme menu on the back burner and stick her neck out to bring the killer into the light of day. She’d better keep her wits about her, though—or Dodie may be the next one to go down for the Count . . .

 

 

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Guest Post

 

Today we welcome Lola from the Dodie O’Dell mysteries and she gives us a look into her character and the series.  Take it away Lola!

 

I’m beside myself! As artistic director of the Etonville Little Theatre I am responsible for making sure the production gets on its feet. At least that’s what I thought my job was, but now I find myself holding Walter’s hand, because he’s always about five minutes away from a panic attack, keeping Penny in control and muzzling her whistle, if possible, and calming the members of the theatre whenever a crisis hits a production… “Lola, take a breath and pump the brakes,” Dodie, my BFF and the manager of the Windjammer restaurant, would say right about now.

I’ll start over… ever since Walter, the founder of the Etonville Little Theatre, was caught doing some creative bookkeeping with the theatre’s box office, the board appointed me acting artistic director to replace Walter. I was perfectly happy as the theatre’s diva, starring in nearly every production. I loved it…the bright lights, the applause, the ecstatic reviews in the Etonville Standard…well, mostly ecstatic. But now I’m wearing two hats: artistic director and occasional performer.

Except for Walter’s moods,  anxiety, and decision to direct/perform/or write every show, and production manager Penny’s claim that the only way to corral actors is by blasting her ridiculously loud whistle, things have been running smoothly. As smoothly as possible given that the ELT is usually on the brink of a disaster.

But I had such hope for a calm, stress-free fall production. I campaigned for a small comedy, something simple, fun… that I could star in. Walter wouldn’t hear of it. He said we needed to make a “big splash,” impress the New Jersey community theatre association with a “spectacle.” I just hoped the ELT wouldn’t make a spectacle of itself. Since the show was scheduled to open late October, Walter insisted on Dracula. The ELT members went gaga, the town applauded Walter’s choice, and we were off to the races. I started twisting my blond hair…a nervous tic that Dodie says is a sure sign “I am beside myself.” See what I mean?

Casting wasn’t too much of a problem, except for the lead. Where were we going to find a leading man to play the vampire? Now I was really twirling lengths of hair. Then I caught wind of a new couple in town. They’d rented the old Hanratty house on the edge of Etonville, which definitely looked haunted. They seemed so normal…he was tall, dark and handsome, with a vaguely foreign accent and a widow’s peak. She was serene, pleasant, and read palms. I couldn’t believe our luck, at first. He agreed to play Dracula and the part fit like a glove.

But then strange things started to happen. Props went missing, light cues were erased, and according to Mrs. Parker, who I must admit is a little daffy, a bat was seen flying around the Etonville park. And no one could remember seeing our Dracula in town during the day. Only at night. The thought made me shiver. Dodie would tell me I was letting my imagination run wild… Suddenly, Etonville had contracted vampire fever and the Banger sisters were wearing garlic necklaces. Now, with the opening and Halloween approaching, I’m nervous. Walter is so preoccupied with both directing and playing the lead—I warned him that wearing two hats was one hat too many—that he can’t be bothered with my fears. What if our leading man really is a …? No I can’t say it. It’s unthinkable…

I need to slip next door see to Dodie before dress rehearsal tonight. I know she’ll calm me down. Her logical explanation for everything is a dose of tranquility. That and a glass of chardonnay. Is it too early for happy hour?

 

Excerpt

 

“It sure looks haunted,” Edna murmured to no one in particular, to the cast of Dracula in general. They were grouped around her on the sidewalk that ran past the old Hanratty place that Carlos and Bella had rented. I’d never been inside though once I’d driven by it when I first moved to Etonville on my way out of town. The house stood on half an acre of scruffy lawn with patches of dried dirt, surrounded by a few straggly trees—minus leaves at this time of the year—and no neighbors. The nearest houses were on a side street some distance away. The three-story building looked as if it might collapse at any moment, its outer walls covered with weathered, gray shakes, the steps to the front door supported by concrete building blocks. There was no handrail. Light leaked out of windows on the first floor. Curtains covering small, circular panes on the third story—an attic room?—quivered. Was someone up there watching us? I shivered. A turret rose upward from the right side of the structure, giving the house a smidge of outdated dignity. A drain pipe dangled loosely from the gutter.

“Let’s go.” Penny corralled actors and nudged everyone forward to the front door. There were six company members, Renfield saying he’d be along later, plus Penny, Lola, Pauli, and me. Strength in numbers.

We crept across the porch cautiously, aware of the creaking beneath us as the flooring shifted with each individual’s footsteps. Penny put out a hand to knock on the door. Before she could hit knuckles to wood, it flew open. “Welcome everyone!” Bella stood in the doorway, a silhouette backlit by muted foyer lighting.

Behind her Carlos stood silently, observing the group huddled in his entryway, like deer caught in headlights.

Lola took the lead, moving graciously into the house. “Thank you. So nice of you to invite us to your home.”

I’m not sure what the members of the Etonville Little Theatre were expecting. Given the exterior and location of the Hanratty homestead, I anticipated something out of a late-night classic horror film.

 

 

About the Author

 

Suzanne Trauth is a novelist, playwright, screenwriter, and a former university theatre professor. She is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, and the Dramatists Guild. When she is not writing, Suzanne coaches actors and serves as a celebrant performing wedding ceremonies. She lives in Woodland Park, New Jersey.

 

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