Shadow Woman Read Free Page A

who looked very much
like Pete Hatcher. The spotlights quickly searched the room. When
they found Pete Hatcher’s booth, the figure of Pete Hatcher
leapt to its feet, threw off the coat and wig, stepped out of the
pants, and became Miranda. She milked the applause, curtsying and
throwing kisses, then ran back to the stage. She tore a curtain from
the back of the stage to reveal what looked like Pete Hatcher lying
stiff and seemingly asleep, floating three feet off the ground. She
covered him with the curtain, levitated him a few feet higher, where
he would be out of her way, and went on with her act. Jane looked at
her watch.
    Miranda proceeded to keep the
audience confused and agitated with her smoke and mirrors and costume
changes. From time to time she would bring up other members of the
audience to shill for her, and when they had done their parts, she
would cover them with cloths and levitate them too, until after two
hours there were six men and women floating above the stage. As
Miranda was taking her final bow, she suddenly seemed to remember
something. She turned, looked up at the six bodies floating in the
air, and hurried toward them. She stepped to the first, snatched the
cloth away, and revealed that there was nothing at all under it. She
pointed to a table at her feet, and the woman who was supposed to be
floating smiled at the audience and waved happily. One by one,
Miranda snatched the cloths out of the air and revealed each of her
volunteers, sitting in their seats watching the show. When she
pointed at Jane’s booth, the man sitting beside Jane gave a
graceful little bow that ended in an outstretched arm lifted toward
Miranda in a gesture that began in appreciation and ended in
surprise.
    The audience’s eyes shot
to the stage in time to see another flash and puff of smoke, and
Miranda was gone. Only the pile of cloths lay where she had stood a
moment before. The smoke grew in volume and thickness, and slowly,
the pile of rags stirred and began to rise. The hydraulic platform
under the stage pushed Miranda upward, and as she rose through the
cloths, they hung from her like thick draped clothing. She was, once
again, the old, bent crone who had begun the show. She limped to the
edge of the stage where she had left her wand, tapped it once on her
palm, and it grew into the walking stick. She winked slyly at the
audience and slowly walked through the smoke and disappeared.
    The doors opened at the rear of
the lounge and the audience filed out with the lights still low,
Miranda’s eerie music still in their ears and wisps of
theatrical smoke still in the air. Jane and her companion made their
way toward the door with the others, deep in the gratified,
chattering crowd. Before they stepped into the light of the casino,
Jane said, “Thanks,” and the man, one of Miranda’s
assistants, stepped to the side and was gone.
    Jane walked purposefully across
the casino alone, under the enormous crystal chandeliers, where she
could be certain the two shadows would see her. She went into the
lobby and stopped at the front desk to pick up her room key.
    She made her way back across the
casino and up into the bar that overlooked the long rows of green
felt tables. She sat down at a table for two and waited. In the
mirror above the bar she could see Pete’s two shadows. The tall
one was wandering around looking over the heads of the gamblers to
see where Pete Hatcher could have gone. The second man was behind
Jane and to her left, just at the perimeter of the bar, where he
could slip away if he needed to.
    She waited a few minutes for the
barmaid to show up, then ordered a martini and a scotch and water,
and watched the barmaid throw down two napkins, one in front of the
empty chair, then head for the bar to get the drinks. The sight of
two drinks on the tray coming back to the table seemed to make all
the difference to Pete Hatcher’s shadows. They were reassured,
almost as though they were watching Pete. They might