TWENTY-FOUR

“You’re related to Alice?” I asked.

“Sure, well, sort of. Alice was married to my grandfather before he died,” she said. “That’s how I first found out about you. She told me what happened. When she died, I thought it was a sign. You know, the audition in Hollywood, her being your friend, like the universe was talking to me.”

“Through the death of your sort-of grandmother,” I said in a tone that may have suggested I didn’t believe her.

She shrugged. “I’ve been consulting with an astrophysicist, and she says there are messages all around us. We just have to listen for them. I’ve been meditating every night and opening myself up as a portal for deeper communication with spirits, and that’s what led me here.”

If I didn’t know Erin was related to Alice, then I wondered who else didn’t. “Has anyone from the local police department contacted you recently?”

“Not since the other night when we were at the police station. Why would they? Besides, nobody knows I’m here except for the hotel staff. Not even my agent. Or my brother. I wanted to fly completely under the radar on this trip, so it didn’t leak out later that I knew about the role in the movie or had time to prepare.”

“But you told me your agent was the one who told you about the part, right?”

She looked embarrassed. “He’s not really my agent. I mean, he’s an agent, but he’s not mine—at least not yet. He’s my boss. I mostly answer the phones in his office and schedule lunches for him. And he doesn’t know he told me. I was outside his office, and I overheard him talking on the phone.”

“Your name—why isn’t your last name Sweet?”

“I changed it when I moved to Hollywood. Got a little closer to the front of the alphabet, which helps when it comes to auditions. Haney was my mom’s maiden name, so it still feels like me.”

I wanted to put my arms around Erin and console her, but there was so much more to that consolation than she knew. Not only had Alice died, but now her older brother, John, had too, and his death had been more violent and less expected. It would be up to the police department to notify the families of the deceased, not me. And while I’d been able to build up enough plausible deniability to explain that my impulse to come here wasn’t related to Tex’s case, I knew as soon as I told Erin about her brother’s murder, I’d be stepping on the toes of Tex’s investigation. Heck, I’d be squashing it like a bug under the rubber soles of my pink canvas sneakers.

Two police officers arrived. They got out of their vehicle and approached the house. They remained a few feet back from where Erin stood. I looked from one to the other. Neither one was familiar. “Are you with the Lakewood Police Department?” I asked.

“No. Dallas PD.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’m Madison Night. There’s been some confusion here. I didn’t break into this property.” I held up the keys. “I inherited the contents when the owner died.”

“My grandma gave you her house?” Erin asked.

“No, not the house. She gave me what was inside the house. John said he inherited the actual building.” I looked at the officers. “I think this was a big mix-up.”

The lead officer stepped forward and addressed Erin. “Ms. Haney, do you want to press charges against this woman for being on your property?”

“Me? No, she’s right,” she said. “I don’t even know if it is my property. It was Grandma’s house so I thought she would have left it to one of us, but I won’t know the truth until I talk to my brother.”

“You haven’t talked to John since you’ve been here?” I asked Erin.

“No. Like I said, I didn’t tell anybody I was coming. Our family wasn’t all that close, and nobody knew I’d been back in touch with Grandma.”

I turned back toward the officer in charge and glanced at his nameplate. “Officer Lopez, can I talk to you for a moment?”

He looked at Erin and then at the other officer. “Stay with her,” he said to his partner. He looked at me and tipped his head backward, indicating the porch.

About a minute later we were standing on the front stoop. “Officer, I have no idea what the protocol is in a situation like this. That lady’s brother inherited this house, but he was murdered yesterday. I don’t think she knows. I don’t even know if his identity has been released to the press. Captain Allen at the Lakewood Police Department is in charge of the investigation.”

“Captain? Why is the captain in charge? Should go to the first officer on the scene.”

“He was the first officer on the scene.” I waved my hand back and forth. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you any of this, but I don’t know what else to do. Can’t you call the LPD and confirm what I’m saying with them?”

“We’re not in Lakewood. This call goes to our precinct, and I’m going to have to write up a report.”

“Fine,” I said. “But you could save a lot of effort if you’d just call Captain Allen.”

“What did you say your name was?”

“Madison Night.”

It was hard to tell when my name would mean something and when it wouldn’t. I’d started paying cash at the Whole Foods so the checkout ladies would stop offering commentary about my life. Even Paintin’ Place, the paint store where I’d named and endorsed a line of mid-century inspired paints, had become a tricky location. The owner kept asking me to write a column called “Ask Madison.” It had nothing to do with Mad for Mod and everything to do with my low-level notoriety, which remained the number-one reason I kept turning down the opportunity.

But today, nothing. If Officer Lopez knew who I was, he had a heck of a poker face. I stood on the porch while he made a series of calls that led to the exact outcome I’d expected.

He held out his phone to me. “Captain Allen wants to talk to you.”

I took the phone. “Hello?” I said.

“What did I tell you, Night?” he said.

“Hi, Captain Allen,” I said politely. “I’m standing here with Officer Lopez from the Dallas Police Department. He was called out to the house of Alice Sweet by her granddaughter, Erin Haney—you know her as the actress who you met yesterday, the one who is working with former police officer Donna Nast, remember?—she said she saw my car parked here overnight, and then when it was back today, she got suspicious and called the local police.”

Tex cursed, reaching the same unavoidable conclusion that I had. That on top of everything else, he bore the responsibility of delivering the news of Erin’s brother’s death. “Erin didn’t leave word with anyone in California that she was coming here, so you probably haven’t been able to reach her. I’ve already told Officer Lopez about the situation, but I would think you’d like to talk to her yourself, all things considered.”

“Keep your mouth shut until I get there, Night.”

“Great. I’ll see you soon.” I handed Lopez’s phone back to him and smiled. “He’s going to join us.”

“I heard.”

By the time Tex arrived, it felt like a veritable party. Two officers, Erin, and a couple of neighbors who came over to check out what was happening before returning with coffee and cookies. The officers had felt it best to keep me out of the house until my presence had been verified in some official capacity. Figured I’d need Tex for that.

He was dressed in a suit and tie like the day he’d met me at the pajama factory for the walkthrough. Every time I saw Tex dressed this way, I felt like I was in a parallel universe where I was still me but everybody around me was slightly off.

I felt Tex’s glare from under his mirrored sunglasses and stood out of the way. He turned toward the officers, and the three of them spoke. One of the neighbors interrupted and handed him the last mug of coffee. He held up his hand in refusal but a few seconds later called her back and took it. I couldn’t help noticing he appeared much more at ease with the plain black mug than the one with yellow daisies from last night.

This was stupid. I was standing by myself on the front lawn and Erin was inside all alone. The woman was about to get some very bad news, and even though I wasn’t related to her in any way, I was arguably less of a stranger than the police who were ignoring her. I went past them into the house. Lopez put his hand out and I looked at him, then at Tex, then back at him. “I’m going inside to sit with Erin. I trust you all understand why it seems important to me that she’s not alone right now.”

Lopez looked at Tex, who nodded. I went inside and sat next to Erin at the kitchen table. She had Clara Bixby’s scrapbook open on top of the pile of paper that had been sitting on the table and was flipping through it. “Was this Grandma’s?” she asked.

“No, that belonged to one of the ladies who worked at Sweet Dreams,” I said. “She loaned it to me.” I flipped to the first page and tapped my finger on the photo of Clara and Suzy. “That’s her,” I said. “Her sister was a model, but I think they all look glamorous, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she said. “God, I bet the costume designers in Hollywood love stuff like this. It’s from that time. So much easier to get the look right when you have something to copy.”

I was startled by what she’d said. “That’s what I do. In decorating. You came to my studio the other day, remember? I specialize in mid-century design and I study old movies to get the style right. Doris Day movies are my favorite.”

“I know,” she said, and then shrugged. “Or at least I know what the writers put in their character sketch about you.”

She flipped through the scrapbook, and we took turns pointing out stylistic details that dated the photos. The front door opened, and Tex walked in. He’d taken his sunglasses off and his demeanor had changed.

“Ms. Night, can you give me a moment with Ms. Haney?” he asked.

“Sure. I’m—I’ll—” I glanced at the table. Clara’s scrapbook was open on top of Alice’s correspondence. Once Tex broke the news to Erin, I didn’t think she’d notice the mess in front of her, but I didn’t like the idea of leaving everything laid out like that.

Tex seemed to follow my thoughts. “Ms. Haney,” he said, “can I speak to you in the living room?”

“Sure,” she said. She stood up and left the room. Tex followed.

I closed the scrapbook. Alice’s stationery, stamps, and address book were still sitting out. I could have swept them into a bag and tossed them into a closet, but out of respect for Alice’s otherwise tidy nature, I collected them into a neat stack and then carried it to the bedroom. A small ivory envelope lined in aqua fell and fluttered to the carpet in the hallway. I balanced the stack on my left hip and bent down to pick up the envelope. When I saw the handwriting on the outside, I dropped the rest of the papers on the floor.

The handwriting matched that on the sealed letter I’d been given by John Sweet. I flipped the envelope over and checked the return address.

Erin Haney, Hollywood, California.