Penelope thought about the scrawled note, the implied threat Nadia received. “I think there’s something else going on.”
“Can you give us a minute?” Arlena asked the makeup artist who was now openly staring at Penelope. She nodded and stepped outside the door, leaving it slightly ajar. “Okay, I believe you. What can we do, besides let production know? Call the police?”
Penelope chewed her lip and looked in the mirror. “I suppose, but you’re skeptical, so they will be too.”
The sound of a large truck rumbling up the driveway drifted through the open window. Penelope peeked outside.
“My delivery is here,” Penelope said with a sigh. “Let me think about it for a while. I’ll see you downstairs.”
“Okay,” Arlena said. “I’ll be in this chair for two hours at least if you need me. Can you send her back in?”
“Sure. You want me to send up some tea?” Penelope asked.
“No thanks,” Arlena said. The makeup artist, who had obviously been listening right outside the door, stepped back inside and continued to work, moving in front of Arlena’s chair.
Chapter 35
Penelope was surprised to see Cheri step down from the truck’s cabin and walk to the house with a stack of papers in her hand. The truck wasn’t huge, but still big enough that it would take some skill to drive.
“Hey there, Cheri,” Penelope said.
“Hi,” the girl replied. She handed Penelope the invoices. “Got your stuff.”
“Great,” Penelope said. Lewis and Francis came down the porch steps and headed toward the back of the truck.
“Everything inside is yours,” Cheri called after them. “I just drive, I don’t deliver, so...”
“We can manage,” Penelope said. “You want some coffee?”
Cheri looked past her at the house. “Yeah.”
“Great,” Penelope said, turning to lead the way. “Follow me.”
In the kitchen Cheri sat at the corner table, looking around the large space, seeming to catalogue the items in the room.
“Where’s Nate?” Penelope asked.
Cheri gazed at her and said, “Farm today. Everyone is sick.”
Penelope set a mug of coffee down in front of her on the table. A set of loud footsteps trampled the ceiling above them and a conversation between a few members of the crew was muffled on the other side of the door.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Penelope said. “How are you doing?”
Cheri shrugged. “Fine, I guess. Store’s closed so I can be up here.”
“We do appreciate it,” Penelope said. She leaned against the counter by the sink and studied the girl’s face.
Lewis pushed through the door with a stack of boxes in his arms, plunking them down on the counter. He shook out his shoulders, then went back out.
“Nate said to say hi,” Cheri said, taking a sip of coffee and staring at Penelope. “Said to give you his best.”
Penelope nodded. “Hey, Cheri. How long have you lived here?”
“All my life,” Cheri said.
“And you work full time at the market?” Penelope asked.
“Yep,” Cheri said. She stared at her mug. “I like it there.”
Penelope pulled the folded-up sketch from her back pocket and unfolded it. She hesitated, then walked to the table, holding it out to Cheri.
“Have you ever seen this man before?” Penelope asked.
Francis came through next with a crate full of vanilla ice cream containers. He set them down on the floor next to the freezer.
“Cold!” he said, rubbing his arms.
“Yeah, I’ve seen him,” Cheri said. She set the picture down on the table and went back to her coffee. She eyed Francis as he shivered nearby.
“Where?” Penelope asked.
“At the store,” Cheri said, shrugging. “I remember his lip thing.”
Penelope felt a tingle on the back of her neck. “When did you see him?”
“Last month,” Cheri said after thinking for a moment. “Yeah, first Tuesday.”
Penelope gazed at the sketch and then back at Cheri. “Last month?”
Cheri nodded. “Yep.”
“Beard or no beard?” Penelope asked, pointing at the two images.
“No beard,” Cheri said with certainty.
Penelope sighed. So, her mystery man was a local after all. And the guy she saw a few days earlier at the bus stop was someone else, probably. Someone her frightened mind had overlapped, or someone she’d seen while traumatized.
“Thanks, Cheri,” Penelope said.
“No problem. Thanks for the coffee.” Cheri stood up without another word and headed out toward the driveway.
Penelope took a picture of the sketch with her phone to text Joey, rolling her eyes when she saw the little circle spinning in frustration on her screen. She saved the text for the next time she visited the abandoned service station, what she was coming to think of as her mobile hot spot.
Chapter 36
Thomas returned during lunch service with Nadia. She appeared to be fine but more jumpy than usual. Penelope assumed it was the adrenaline from her accident. She’d become more aware of after-effects of trauma in the past week or two, much more than she would have liked.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Penelope said as Nadia approached the dining tent.
“Just shaken up.” Nadia hugged Penelope tightly, trembling slightly beneath her arms.
“Did you get a look at the driver? Anything about the car?” Penelope asked.
“She’s been over all of this with the police,” Thomas said. “She doesn’t remember a thing.” He left them alone and went into the tent, heading straight for the clean plates at the front of the food line.
“You didn’t see anything?” Penelope asked.
“No,” Nadia said. “It happened really fast, out of the blue. I was messing with the radio, looking at the map, and I saw a white flash. Next thing I know I was off the road, headed down the ravine. Penelope, it was so scary.”
Penelope thought about Nadia’s ever-present phone but didn’t ask her if she’d been texting while driving. Having a near-miss accident was punishment enough.
“Nadia,” Penelope said, looking around them to see if anyone was close enough to hear. “I’m worried about you. What if all these things happening to you are connected?”
Nadia shook her head. “Why would someone want to hurt me?” Her voice hitched at the end and she cleared her throat.
“What about that note to the police? Do you have any idea about it?” Penelope pressed her.
“I honestly have no clue,” Nadia said. “Of course, everyone is watching me, all the time. I’m playing tennis on television half of the year, I have over a million followers on Twitter. I mean, it could be anyone.”
“A million people?” Penelope murmured in disbelief. “Have you been threatened online?”
“Sure, there are trolls,” Nadia said. “But they’re just crazy people. I don’t take it seriously. Everyone has haters.”
Penelope thought about Arlena, and how her absence from social media might be saving her a lot of uninvited negative opinions. “What kinds of things do people say?”
Nadia scoffed bitterly. “I’ve been called ugly, fat, a terrible tennis player. There’s one troll who photoshops my head onto an ostrich and makes memes of me saying bird jokes. It’s just what people do.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was happening,” Penelope said.
“It’s part of being a celebrity. I’m also a mentor, I coach kids in my off season, I get to do things like come on a film set with you. I’m a role model to young girls. An athlete. I’ve learned to take the good with the bad.”
When they were teenagers they were drawn together because they were both focused on having succes
sful futures. They were good girls who didn’t go out a lot, preferring to stay home and watch movies together. They bonded over being a bit nerdy, while the cooler kids hung out at parties and the mall, sneaking drinks and cigarettes. “Wait,” Penelope said, pulling her phone from her pocket and opening her text messages. “Do you know who this is?”
Nadia looked at the screen. Penelope kept her eyes on her old friend’s face.
“Nope. Is it a sketch of Bradley Cooper in that movie with the aliens?”
“What? No,” Penelope said. She clicked off the phone and put it back in her pocket.
“Where’s Arlena?” Nadia asked, craning her neck to peer inside the tent.
“Upstairs in makeup,” Penelope said. “They have to touch her up before they can pick back up again.”
“Okay, well, I’m going to lie down for a while,” Nadia said. “If I’m needed on the set, just send one of the P.A.s to wake me up.”
“You’re getting the movie lingo down pretty quickly,” Penelope said.
“Yeah, I like this world. I’m going to take some acting classes. Jeremiah thinks I have potential, onscreen potential he says. Then I’ll have something to turn to when I retire, like Helen did with her artwork.”
“Well, that’s an interesting development. I didn’t know acting was an interest of yours,” Penelope said.
“We’re all constantly growing,” Nadia said. She turned and walked slowly up the back-porch steps.
Chapter 37
Penelope went back to the boat house between lunch and dinner with a bus pan full of dishes. In the small kitchen, she loaded the dishwasher and filled the porcelain farmer’s sink with warm soapy water, gently laying a stack of dirty pans in the water to soak. The team stayed up at the main house, cleaning the rest. Penelope had told them to take an hour to themselves before beginning on dinner. Jeremiah had promised a later night than usual, and she wanted to be sure they would all make it to the end.
Penelope sat in her favorite club chair and listened to the dishwasher drone in the kitchen behind her. Her eyes fell on the bookshelves and she got up, wandering over to peruse the titles. She had always loved to read, even though these days with her schedule it might take her over a week to finish a book. Her shifts were sometimes sixteen hours long, which felt like all she did was work and sleep.
Penelope pulled a book from the shelf and flipped it open, recognizing the name of the author as a famous New Englander. Thinking she’d already read that title, she crouched down and pulled out another.
The small shiny button winked at her from behind. In her exhausted state earlier in the week, she thought she’d imagined seeing it there, but now fully rested, there it was again. Penelope stared at the tiny thing, a perfect brown circle, almost the same color as the bookshelf with tiny pinholes covering the front. It looked a lot like a microphone, but not one that Penelope had ever seen before. A strange feeling passed over her then, a feeling of being exposed or watched. She flipped through all of the conversations she’d had in that room. They were all day to day ones, nothing she could point to as being something anyone would want to listen to.
Did she have some competitor who wanted to listen in on how she managed her staff? She laughed to herself at that possibility. No, this was either here before them, or meant for someone else.
Penelope went to the kitchen and pulled open a drawer, silverware clattering in the tray. Penelope opened the one next to it, and found what she was looking for: a small silver spatula.
She went back to the bookcase and used it to pry the listening device from the bookcase. At first it didn’t give, then popped off with a shot, bouncing once on the shelf before landing on the carpet. Penelope coughed loudly as she picked it up, then stepped out onto the deck, holding the bug out with two fingers away from her body.
She set it down on the railing in the far corner and stared at it.
Not sure what to do next, Penelope left it there and went back inside. She spent most of the next hour looking behind all of the books in the house, and in all of the cabinets too, making sure someone wasn’t monitoring their every move.
Chapter 38
Penelope slipped behind the wheel of her Jeep and drove to her mobile hot spot in front of the abandoned service station. She had made a mental list as she drove of all the things she wanted to accomplish on the quick trip while she was connected to the rest of the world again. When she arrived, she parked quickly and turned off the engine.
First, she texted the sketch of her suspect to Joey with the words: “Can you find out who this is?” Next, she opened her Google app and typed in Nadia’s full name. Fifteen pages of results appeared, and Penelope began scrolling through different articles and biography sites that had her listed. Not seeing anything out of the ordinary, she went back to the search bar and typed the word “arrest.” Her heart skipped when the screen filled again, until she noticed the word “arrest” was lined out in fine print. She wasn’t sure what she’d been hoping to find, possibly someone who had gotten into trouble who had a connection to Nadia Westin.
Penelope rubbed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat, trying to think. “What is it about Nadia?” she said out loud to no one.
The phone buzzing in her lap made her jump. She answered quickly when she saw Joey’s name.
“There’s my love,” Penelope said.
“I like that greeting,” Joey said. “Who is this picture of?”
“That’s what I want you to tell me,” Penelope said. “I’ve been asking around but I thought you might be able to run it through your computer.”
“I can try,” Joey said. “Who do we think this is?”
“I saw him up here and also at the bus stop across from Sonya’s that day. I think. Maybe.”
Joey’s tone gained an edge. “This guy is following you?”
“Not me,” Penelope said. “I think Nadia might have a stalker.”
“Okay, I’ll see what I can come up with.”
“Also, is there a way to find out if Nadia’s ever been associated with anyone who’s a criminal? I keep feeling like someone is trying to get back at her for something.”
“Yeah, I thought of that and did an initial search when the purse thing happened,” Joey said. “I couldn’t find anything linking her directly to any legal trouble, which I have to say is surprising. I thought all celebrity types fell prey to opportunists.”
“Probably not everyone,” Penelope said. “What else is happening at home, any news?”
“We found the burning bag site,” Joey said. “Well, Clarissa did.”
“That’s great!” Penelope said. “Finally, something. Where was it?”
“Wooded area behind the train station, a known transient and homeless camp. Problem is, there’s an overwhelming amount of evidence back there, related and unrelated to our search.”
“Her bag might still be out there, if you confirm the burnt one is a fake,” Penelope said.
“Yeah, our guy in the lab says it’s a knockoff,” Joey said.
“Any idea how her purse and my money walked away from police custody?” Penelope asked.
Joey’s voice became flat. “Clarissa thinks she’s uncovered something in the evidence department. She’s put together an undercover operation to roust out the culprit.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Penelope said.
“Yeah, if you want to jam up other cops,” Joey said.
“They’re breaking the law, Joey,” Penelope said.
Joey sighed. “I know, of course you’re right. It doesn’t look good for us, though. A temporary detective showing us how corrupt we are.”
“You aren’t,” Penelope said.
“Of course not,” Joey said. “Okay, I have to put a call into your set, update Nadia about the handbag we found.”
“Okay,” Penelope said reluctantl
y. “Oh wait! I feel like I have to think of everything while I have you on the phone. What about the Letourneau connection between Sonya’s and Lois’s? Did you get my text?”
“I did,” Joey said. “Yeah, there were Letourneaus at both incidents. Strange coincidence. So far that’s all it is though. The crimes don’t appear to be connected.”
Penelope put her hand to her forehead and rubbed. “Okay. I’ll call you soon.”
“Bye, Penny Blue.”
Penelope stared at her phone after he hung up, which had flipped back to the Google search screen. An article caught her eye and she opened it, scanning through it quickly. Several tennis players the year before had been fined for using performance enhancing substances. Penelope’s eyes skipped through the names, a list of ten. Nadia’s wasn’t on it. She was mentioned elsewhere in the article as part of the tour that had been investigated, but she wasn’t on the list of the ones who had been caught.
A text message popped up on her screen from Joey: “A name popped on your picture: Donald Matthews. Arrested for DUI six years ago, drunk and disorderly. Be careful if he shows up again.”
Penelope swiped the text away and went back to the article she’d been reading on her phone. She scanned the list of names again and her heart skipped when she came to the last one: Heather Matthews.
“Finally, maybe this is something,” Penelope murmured. She Googled the girl’s name and clicked on her Wikipedia listing: Heather Matthews, semi-professional tennis player. DOB: 3-14-1996. DOD: 6-12-2016.
Penelope stared at the date, then tapped the “Cause of Death” link. “Fatal Overdose.”
Chapter 39
Penelope eyed Jeremiah during dinner, watching him talk with the crew as he ate. She spent a good amount of time watching Thomas, too. She had no idea who had put a listening device in the boathouse’s living room, but her first suspicion fell on the owners. They had mentioned the boathouse and main house were often rented out to tourists when they weren’t home. Maybe that was their way of keeping tabs on people while they were far away making their movies. Penelope was relieved to find no other bugs in either the bedrooms or bathrooms, a small measure of relief. But she still felt their privacy had been violated, a feeling she wasn’t used to.
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