Dark Ambition Read Free

Winthrop's body lying in a pool of blood, he stopped short and screamed. Instinctively, he knelt down and placed his hand against Winthrop's heart. He felt Winthrop's wrist for a pulse. The man was clearly dead.
    Perspiring heavily, trembling, Gillis was enveloped by panic. He wanted to race up the stairs, out the front door, and tell those two guards what he had found. That was the right thing to do. He knew it. But it also would lead to trouble for him, lots of trouble, answering questions and explaining. They would try to blame him, the same way that sheriff had grabbed his daddy when somebody had raped a white girl back home in Hattiesburg. His daddy had been gone for a whole month. They beat his daddy almost to death until a white man raped somebody else, and they caught him and charged him with both crimes. Sure, this was Washington, not Mississippi, but he couldn't take the chance. He decided to take the safe way out. He retraced his steps to the back door, pretending he had never seen a thing.

 
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    Chapter 2

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    "No... No... No." Ann Winthrop shot to her feet in the center of the darkened theater, throwing her hands into the air. "Linda, you can't play the mother as some sweet old biddy. The woman's a monster. Her daughter's going to kill her, for chrissake. You need to show that the daughter's justified in doing it. Otherwise, this whole play is crap!"
    Ann's outburst produced an awkward silence. Though she was the chairman of the board of the Dolly Madison Theatre and the producer of this production of Beauty Queen of Leenane, no one other than the director ever interrupted the actors during a dress rehearsal. Sitting next to Ann, Jennifer Moore was embarrassed for her friend. She stood up next to Ann, providing moral support. From the corner of her eye she saw Del Weber, the director, jump up in the first row, clutching a clipboard tightly in his hand. He stormed over and in a single swift motion flung it to the ground, narrowly missing Ann's feet. "You want to direct it yourself?" he shouted at Ann. "Then it's all yours. I'm gone."
    As he charged toward the door, Jennifer circled behind the seats and cut him off at the back of the theater. Grabbing his arm, she said, "Look, Del..."
    Del was furious. "Who the fuck does she think she is?"
    "She's got a point. After all, if a character's going to the extreme of killing someone, especially her mother, the audience has to see that her motivation is strong enough."
    "C'mon, Jennifer. Don't get lawyerly with me. You used to be in the theater. You know damn well if Ann had a gripe, she should have told me privately. That's the way it's done."
    Del was right, and Jennifer knew that. But the show was opening Wednesday evening, and she didn't want him to quit. "Listen," she said, lowering her voice, "cut her a little slack, would you? It has been a tough time for her."
    "Why the hell should I?"
    Jennifer stared hard at him and said, "Think about it, Del." She didn't have to spell it out: Ann had given Del a chance after he had come out of drug rehab.
    The director started calming down as Ann approached, carrying his clipboard. She handed it to him and said, "Sorry, Del. You're in charge. I'm leaving. Let's go, Jenny."
    Five minutes later, with Jennifer behind the wheel of her red Saab convertible pulling out of the garage, Ann blurted out, "What's Linda's problem? Didn't she read the script?"
    Jennifer didn't respond. After a few moments of riding in silence, Ann, sounding defensive, said, "I was right about the way Linda played the mother, wasn't I, Jenny?"
    "Of course you were right. You dragged me along today to give you some notes. My main thought was that I couldn't buy why the daughter would kill her. I mean, the way Linda was playing the part. But..." Jennifer had to make a difficult left turn. She used that as an excuse to stop before her next sentence popped out of her mouth.
    "You don't have to lecture me," Ann said wearily. "I know I should have