Chapter 20

What Do You Mean, She Has to Be Found?

Has She Disappeared?

“Which room is Arrestadt’s?” I said as the three of us walked down the hall to their room.

“Oh,” sniffed Desirée, “he doesn’t stay here with the little—”

“People,” I said. “I get it. Where does he stay?”

“He’s at the Hotel La Fuente. Do you think Candace is with him?”

Duh. I nearly slapped my head in relief. “Of course. Do you have his number?”

Desirée got out her phone, then frowned at me. “I can’t give you his number. What if you sold it to the paparazzi, or gave it to some actor who wanted a screen test? Or maybe you really know where Candace is and you’re making all of this up because you want to get close to Arrestadt. You are an actress, right?”

“Why does everyone think actors have no principles?” It was one of my hot buttons.

“Because they’ll do anything to get ahead. I should know.” Desirée tossed her shining hair over a skinny shoulder.

“If you really think that, why would you want your daughter to be part of this world?”

“Yeah, Mom.” Madison looked strangely excited. “I shouldn’t be hanging around with people like that.”

Desirée didn’t say anything. Madison stopped walking as if standing still would make her mom answer. It worked. I filed that trick away for future use. “Actors can be selfish,” Desirée said to her daughter, “but they can also be amazingly caring people. Since they’re always thinking about motivation—”

“The good actors, that is.” I couldn’t help interrupting.

“They understand others’ motives, and can be really empathetic. They can be awful too, but it’s more like siblings fighting, like a cast is one big dysfunctional family who respect each other underneath it all.”

Judging by Madison’s open mouth, I wasn’t the only one blown away by Desirée’s admission. But Madison was quicker on the uptake. “I don’t need another family,” she said. “I have you and Dad. And the science club. Let’s go home.”

A flash of something—pain?—crossed Desirée’s face. “We signed a contract,” she said. “We have to honor it.”

Madison stuck out her bottom lip.

“Since we have decided I am an amazingly caring person—” I said.

“I didn’t say that,” said Desirée.

“Yes, you did,” said Madison.

“How about Arrestadt’s phone number?” I said.

“How about I call him?” Desirée began dialing. Smart. “Arrestadt?” she said into her phone. “I’m here with that friend of Candace’s—”

“Ivy,” I said.

“And she’s wondering if Candace is with you.” She listened, then shook her head at me. “Okay, well—”

I grabbed the phone. “Arrestadt? I’m worried about Candy. She ran away during that fracas at the reception.”

“Fracas?” Madison asked her mom.

“We’ll google it later.”

“And I haven’t seen her since,” I finished.

“She’s probably just hiding from the journalists,” Arrestadt said.

“But she left her purse and cellphone behind in her dressing room. I saw them.”

“When?”

“Um...an hour or so after the reception and the bloody painting thing.”

“An hour?”

“Yeah.” I was glad Arrestadt couldn’t see my face flush. “I’m overreacting, aren’t I?”

“Maybe. She probably just needs some time alone. A lot has happened in the past few days.”

“But why would she leave her purse and phone?”

“If she wanted to be alone, her phone could have been a distraction. I’m sure a lot of people are trying to contact her. And her valuables would be pretty safe in her dressing room. I suspect she’s already gone back for them.”

He was right. And though he couldn’t see my red face, Desirée and Madison could. I turned away from them. “Okay, thanks. I was just worried.”

“Tell you what,” Arrestadt said. “Let’s check in with each other tomorrow morning, just in case. See if either of us has heard from her.”

“Thanks.” My cheeks felt cooler immediately. Arrestadt and I exchanged phone numbers, ascertained that morning meant ten o’clock (theater folk are night owls), and hung up. I gave the phone back to Desirée.

“Looks like you got his number after all.” She unlocked their hotel room door and held it open for Madison.

“Yeah, thanks.” I started to walk away, but something pulled at me, like a stray hair caught too tightly in a barrette. Something Desirée had said. “Hey,” I said, catching their door right before it closed. “Earlier when you said actors will do anything to get ahead, you also said ‘I should know.’ What did you mean?”

“Nothing. Goodnight, Ivy.” She shut the door.