“Right,” I said again, not bothering to hide the doubt laced in my voice. “But I guess I was referring to the drama that has surrounded the play. You know, with Amanda going missing and all.”
Her smile dimmed. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose that probably has drawn the interest of a few folks.” Eleanor drummed her fingers on the table. Her nails were as red as her lips. “But what is the saying? All publicity is good publicity?”
“I suppose,” I said, thinking that there wasn't anything good about a missing teenage girl. “Have you heard anything from the girl's family?”
She made a face at me, a cross between a frown and a haughty look of disdain. “Ms. Savage, it's not my nature to intrude on the business of others.”
“I'd think you might be able to offer some help, though,” I said. “Insight as to what her mood was like before she went missing… things like that.”
“Her mood was fine,” she said curtly. “I don't believe I have anything else to offer her family, thus I've chosen to mind my own business.” Her eyes narrowed and once again, her lashes clumped together. “Which I think might be a wise decision for everyone to live by.”
It felt like a pointed remark, aimed directly at me. I wasn't sure how aware she was of me and the things I'd been involved with in Moose River. However, if I had to wager a guess, I would think she was familiar with some of the stories, as my name had been in the local paper and I knew people had been talking about the computer theft and, earlier on, the discovery of Olaf Stunderson in my coal chute. I was comfortable with my involvement with those other things – well, as comfortable as I could be being tied to a murder investigation and grand larceny – but I didn't like her taking a jab at me. Mostly because I didn't like her.
“I hear your daughter is taking over the role of Snow White,” I said, picking up my coffee. It was still hot and I took a sip. “She must be thrilled to be in the lead role. Again.”
Something flickered through her eyes. “Again? She was never cast as Snow White previous to this… incident.”
“No, I meant again in that she is always the star of your shows.” I smiled at her over my mug. “At least that's what I've been told.”
“Madison is a wonderful actress,” she said primly. “Any notion of nepotism is purely sour grapes.”
“I'm sure,” I asked. “I mean, nepotism at this level of theater would just be… stupid.” She visibly bristled and I continued. “How were the auditions?”
“Auditions?”
“For Snow White? You told us the other day that there would be auditions to recast the role?” I smiled innocently. “I just assumed that you'd already completed the auditions since Madison is now set to replace Amanda.”
For the first time since she walked in, Eleanor Bandersand seemed less than sure of herself. She uncrossed her arms and adjusted herself in the chair, like she'd just realized that it was the most uncomfortable seating arrangement in the world. She looked across the table, searching for a cup of coffee or a blueberry muffin or anything to busy herself with instead of answering my questions.
“Auditions?” I repeated again, prompting her.
She cleared her throat. “Well, after looking at our options, we decided that Madison was best suited to play the role, given the circumstances we are now working under.”
Translation: there were no try-outs and she'd handed it to her daughter.
“Madison has consistently demonstrated the ability to learn large roles and perform them well,” she continued. “She will help make the production a success and it will be one more reason that the drama schools will be requesting her presence in the fall.”
I remembered hearing Madison run her mouth when I was picking up the costumes for the girls. “Has she decided where she'll be attending?”
“Not as of yet, no,” Eleanor said. “She's still waiting to receive all of her acceptance letters.”
“Oh. She hasn't heard yet from the schools?”
Her brows knitted together. “We haven't yet reached the window where the schools send out their acceptance letters. I'm sure she'll have multiple options, though.”
I thought that was interesting. Either Madison had lied to her friend or she hadn't yet told her mother that she'd been accepted. But I seriously doubted that anyone touched the mail before Eleanor got her hands on it.
Interesting.
“Well, I'm certain you must have a lot to do now,” Eleanor said, standing. “So I will let you get to it.”
I nodded. “Yes, I guess I do.”
“As I said before,” she said, pushing her chair in. “I hope you're up to the task.”
I stood and collected the brochures Joanne left for me. “I hope your family is, too.”
Her eyes narrowed, confused and wary. “My family?”
“Both you and your daughter,” I said. “Your daughter with the new role you gave her and your task of directing a brand new actress in the lead role. I'd imagine you have a lot to do, too.” I smiled at her. “Would be a shame if this show wasn't up to your...usual standards.”
The corners of her mouth twitched. “Don't you worry about us. We'll be fine. You just focus on the programs.”
I held them up and slung my purse over my arm. “I'll do that, Eleanor. Toodleloo.”
ELEVEN
Are you home right now?
I'd left Eleanor at Cream and Sugar and, after stopping home for an hour to check on the kids and feed them lunch, I finished my running around for the day, hitting the post office, the bank and the gas station. I was just about to pull away from the pump when I got Emily's text.
I called her back. When she answered, I said, “No, I am not currently home. What do you need?”
“How long are you not going to be home for?” she asked, her voice nearly a whisper.
“I don't know. Why? And why are you talking like a spy?”
“Can you not be home for awhile?” she asked. “For, like, maybe the next hour or so?”
“That sounds ominous.”
“Can you?”
“Emily. What is going on?”
She sighed so hard into the phone, I nearly felt her breath on my cheek. “I have a friend who’s stuck here at school. I was going to bring them home for a little bit until their mom can come and pick them up.”
“Well, that's fine,” I said, confused. “What does any of that have to do with me being home?”
“I just...I just...I don't know,” she answered, flustered. “I guess I was just checking. So you'll be gone for a little while longer?”
I smelled a rat. “Who is your friend, Em?”
“Just a friend.”
“The name of the friend, please.”
She sighed again. “It's Andy Hartnell.”
“So you want to bring a boy home while I'm not there?”
“Oh my God. It's not like that, Mom,” she said. “And besides, the other kids are there, aren't they?”
I knew Emily was a private kid; I knew she kept things to herself; she was always very careful about what she shared and how she shared it. And I’d always thought Emily was savvy. But this conversation was forcing me to rethink that entire idea. Because she was trying to game me in a couple of different ways and she was doing an utterly poor job of it. If she knew the other kids were home, then she'd already talked to one of them – probably Will – and realized that I wasn't there. So then she'd called me and was attempting to keep me out of the house, most likely because she was afraid I'd embarrass her. And all of this involved her maybe-boyfriend.
I admired her nerve, but frowned at her poor execution. “Okay, sure,” I told her. “Go ahead and bring him home. His parents will pick him up?”
“Really?” she said, surprised. “You don't mind? And you won't be home?”