by J. D. Griffo
“Shocker!” Nola shouted. “Your boyfriend hasn’t shared every minute detail of his life with you? That is completely unacceptable boyfriend behavior and you should break up with him pronto.”
“Shut it, Nola,” Jinx said. “Tell me more about this ski group.”
“What’s there to tell?” Bruno asked. “It’s a bunch of guys who go skiing.”
“I should ask Johnny if he wants to join,” Nola said. At the mention of Johnny’s name, Bruno’s body language changed. His mouth clenched, his hand, which was lying on the table, formed a fist, and his shoulders hunched up slightly. Jinx knew it was because the evil green monster called Jealousy had taken hold of Bruno’s body, but she wasn’t sure if Bruno was even aware of the transformation. When he spoke, his tone hadn’t changed as much as his physical demeanor, but Jinx thought she detected an edge to his voice that wasn’t previously there. “I didn’t take Johnny for the outdoorsy type.”
“You might be right about that, Bruno,” Nola agreed. “Johnny is most comfortable in a dark theatre.”
“Which is where I wish I was going to be.”
Kip made the declaration as he slumped into his seat.
“Sorry about that call, I’m the new guy at the firm so I’m always expected to pick up when I’m summoned,” Kip explained. “I only got out for lunch today because I have to go to a client’s office right after this in some place called Newton.”
“I could draw you a map,” Jinx offered.
“You can follow me, Kip,” Nola said. “I have a free period after this, so I don’t have to rush right back to school. As long as I’m back for my sixth period English class, Donna won’t harass me.”
“The new principal’s cracking the whip?” Bruno asked.
“Let’s just say she’s making her presence known,” Nola said.
“When we met her at the party ...” Jinx started.
“You mean the night Missy was murdered,” Kip interjected.
“That’s another way to describe the evening,” Jinx said. “When we met Donna, she seemed nice—funny, actually—not like some parochial school dominatrix.”
“I’m not sure if she literally has a whip that she uses on her staff, or a leather and lace outfit hidden in her office closet,” Nola said, “but she is a no-nonsense administrator.”
“Sounds like she’s staking out her turf to let everyone know who’s in charge,” Bruno said. “She is the new girl in town, so to speak.”
“Speaking as the new guy in town,” Kip said, “I want to thank you all for making me feel so welcome. I’m super-bummed that we won’t be having rehearsals because it’s such a great way to get to know people and make long-lasting friendships.”
Nola started to clamor on about all the different physical exercises Johnny was planning to do with the cast during the rehearsal period, as well as her ideas for the set and costume designs for the show. Kip, who could accurately be described as a theatre nerd, eagerly participated in the conversation, and even Bruno had surprisingly strong opinions about the dramatic journey his minor character would have taken over the course of the play. Jinx remained silent, eating her lunch, and observed them. Judgment quickly transformed into approval and then into opportunity.
Although she had nothing concrete on which to base her suspicions, Jinx didn’t trust Kip. It was clear, however, that Nola and Bruno liked the guy and thought he was harmless and wouldn’t even fall under the “suspect” column as a potential murderer. Because Kip didn’t live or work in town, and now that Arsenic and Old Lace wasn’t going to be produced, Jinx knew she would have a hard time keeping tabs on him. Unless she made it appear that she wanted to be part of the fun.
“Listen to you three,” Jinx squealed. “You’re making me want to jump on that stage and start memorizing dialogue.”
“That’ll be the day,” Nola scoffed. “You hate the theatre.”
Kip gasped and almost choked on his bok choy. “Please tell me she’s wrong, Jinx. I was really hoping we could be friends. I’m already buddies with your boyfriend.”
“Don’t you worry, Kip,” Jinx said. “You and I are gonna be besties.”
“I would love that!” Kip gushed. “You were wrong, Bruno, Jinx is so not standoffish.”
Jinx gave Bruno the stink eye and would have to remember to yell at him later, but for the moment, the fake smile she was wearing remained plastered on her face. She didn’t want to give Kip any reason to think that she wasn’t sincere about her proposition. It turned out that her happy expression was contagious. Across the table, Nola looked like Missy had just risen from the dead, the show had sold out its entire run, and there were talks of an extension.
“This is what I love about the theatre,” Nola said. “The camaraderie, the togetherness, the creation of a whole new family.” Nola looked at her mini-audience and tears came to her eyes. “I don’t want it to end.”
“Why does it have to end?” Jinx asked. “We could all remain friends, stay together, and be our own little theatrical family.”
Nola and Kip cheered in agreement while it was Bruno’s turn to give Jinx the stink eye. He knew how she felt about Kip, which meant that he didn’t believe a word she’d just said. Nola, however, fell for it completely.
“I have just made a decision!” Nola squealed.
“What?” Kip asked.
“Nope, I can’t say just yet, but you’ll hear about it soon,” Nola confirmed. “I need to tie up some loose ends, but I promise it is going to be life-changing. It’ll make Missy Michaels the happiest dead child star who ever lived.”
* * *
Later that night, Jinx was still contemplating what Nola had said and couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. The good news was that she had made headway with her impromptu plan to get closer to Kip, who at the moment and without any substantiated evidence, was her prime suspect in Missy’s murder. She knew that Bruno suspected she was manipulating the situation, but she also knew that as a public defender, he was on the side of Lady Justice and wouldn’t tattle on her. If Jinx was wrong and Kip was nothing more than an innocent newcomer who was geographically challenged, there would be no harm. But if she was right and Kip was really a homicidal maniac, her investigation could help stop him before he caused anyone else any harm.
She started doodling in the notebook that she always carried with her. Taking notes on her phone or her laptop or any electronic device was a shortcut, but she did prefer the old-fashioned way, especially when she was working on a case. It created a stronger connection to her material.
She wrote down four names: Kip, Johnny, Donna, Missy. Her cutesy, bubble-shaped script was a visual contradiction to the very serious, underlying reason she was memorializing their names on paper. They’d all showed up in Tranquility around the same time, and Jinx wondered if they had anything in common or a connection that would lead to murder. She knew a little bit about each of them, but it was time she delved deeper. To do that, she needed some help.
“Gram, it’s me,” Jinx said into her phone.
“Hello, lovey,” Alberta replied. “Is anything wrong?”
“I have to go to Philadelphia tomorrow to interview a former Tranquility resident who’s turning one hundred,” Jinx said.
“Ah, Madon,” Alberta replied. “God bless.”
“And I was wondering if you could do some research for me.”
“Of course, just tell me what the subject is,” Alberta replied.
“Not what, who,” Jinx clarified. “I think it’s time we found out exactly who Missy Michaels was.”
“We know a lot about her, lovey. There’s tons of information about her online all about her movie career.”
“I’m not talking about Missy the actress, I’m talking about Missy the person,” Jinx said.
“You think there’s a difference between the two?”
“Yes. I have a feeling there’s a whole lot more about this woman that we never imagined,” Jinx declared. “And it might just be the
key to why she was murdered.”
CHAPTER 15
Una stella senza luce.
Sometimes you can know someone and not know them at all.
That was how Alberta felt about Missy. When she saw her photo at St. Winifred’s the night of her murder and was drawn in by the resemblance she had with the actress, Alberta thought she was getting closer to understanding the woman. But it had nothing to do with facts and everything to do with feeling. There was a visual connection because of their similar physicalities, but nothing more. The fact of the matter was the only thing Alberta or anyone knew about Missy was that once upon a time she starred in the movies. It was time they dug deeper to find out more. And the best digger Alberta knew was the man she dug.
Sloan was about to prove that he was not above a little skullduggery himself.
“Happy Anniversary!”
Standing in the middle of Sloan’s office, Alberta was surprised by his singsong outburst. Was she already senile and not aware of it? What was so special about this Tuesday? And why was Sloan holding a bouquet of flowers?
“I’m so sorry, Sloan, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alberta confessed. “What anniversary?”
“Our anniversary.”
Alberta racked her brain and tried to remember what significant event occurred in their past that would warrant a celebration. The first day they met? The first time Alberta cooked for Sloan? Their first date? That had to be it. Their first date at the Tranquility Ball Waterfest, commemorating Tranquility’s centennial. It had been a glorious night and the official start of their relationship, and Alberta had completely forgotten about it. She almost started to cry and then she saw Sloan’s smile. No tears, she thought, be grateful that you have someone to remind you of the special moments in your life.
“I can’t believe it’s been two years,” Alberta said. “And I can’t believe I didn’t remember.”
There wasn’t a trace of disappointment on Sloan’s face. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you, and I kind of like that I was able to surprise you.”
“Never did I think that I’d have another anniversary with a man after Sammy,” Alberta shared. “But I am so happy I’m sharing them with you.”
“That, Alberta, is the best gift you could’ve given me,” Sloan admitted.
Alberta felt her cheeks flare and she was filled with so much joy at that moment that she couldn’t focus on words. Instead, she reached out to accept the flowers and kiss Sloan sweetly on the lips.
“Il tempo vola quando ci si diverte,” Sloan said.
“Your lessons are working, you’re starting to talk like a real native,” Alberta replied. “And you’re right, time has flown because we’ve been having so much fun.”
“And it’s my hope that we continue to have fun for a very long time,” Sloan whispered, not taking his eyes off Alberta’s.
She had no urge to break his gaze, she would be very happy to stare into his eyes for the rest of the day. Until she remembered she had come to his office with a purpose.
“That’s my wish too, Sloan,” Alberta said. “And I know the perfect way for us to have more fun.”
“Let me guess,” Sloan replied. “It has something to do with murder, mayhem, and a pint-size movie star from days gone by.”
“Why, Mr. McLelland, it’s as if you can read my mind,” Alberta said.
She had tried to make up for her forgetfulness with a little flirtation and channeled Scarlett O’Hara as a young woman from the first part of Gone With the Wind. Not a born flirt, Alberta sounded more like a tipsy Carol Burnett from the famous spoof she did of the epic film.
“I’ll do anything if you promise never to speak in that voice again.” Sloan laughed. “That has got to be the worst Southern accent I have ever heard.”
One major benefit of being in a relationship as an older woman was that Alberta could laugh at herself. If Sammy had said that to her during the early years of their marriage, she would’ve been hurt and taken it as yet another criticism and confirmation that everything she did was wrong. Now she took it the way it was meant, as a joke between two people who cared very much for each other.
Laughing, Alberta agreed to speak in a voice cultivated above the Mason–Dixon line. Sloan laughed even harder when Alberta told him the reason for her visit.
“I really am a mind reader,” Sloan said. “I’ve been working on a surprise for you.”
“You’ve already surprised me with these beautiful flowers and your sharp memory,” Alberta said.
“Then let the surprises continue, madam,” Sloan said. “I’ve uncovered the previously unknown history of Missy Michaels.”
Sloan explained that he took a trip down the proverbial rabbit hole that is the Internet and did extensive online research using the library’s resources to uncover the truth about the real Missy Michaels. He thought he was making progress when he found information on her fan club, but it was a dead end and the group must have disbanded years ago. Steadfast, Sloan soldiered on and did discover significant information in little-known websites that didn’t seem to get much virtual traffic and additional details from a call he placed to a Hollywood memorabilia auction house that was selling a script of the first Daisy Greenfield movie signed by Missy. Luckily, Pierre, the chatty auctioneer who answered the phone, was delighted to show off his knowledge.
“Don’t keep me in suspense, Sloan, tell me what you found out,” Alberta said.
“Missy’s story is really a Hollywood fairy tale,” Sloan began. “She was discovered in 1956 when she was only six years old by a film producer who was on vacation in Deer Isle, Maine. He watched Missy playing with her family on the beach and saw more than a rambunctious little girl, he saw a cash cow.”
“He could tell she would be a big box office star just from watching her play on the beach?” Alberta asked.
“It’s their job,” Sloan replied. “Producers and casting directors are trained to see not only talent, but someone’s potential. He must’ve seen some inner spark in the girl because he whisked Missy away from her family, relocated her to Hollywood, and she became an instant star. She quickly eclipsed Shirley Temple’s fame, but had even more heartache.”
“I never read about any tragedies in her life,” Alberta said.
“Because they were kept out of the papers at the time,” Sloan explained. “Soon after arriving in Hollywood, the film studios pushed Missy’s family to the side. Her mother, who had made the trip to the West Coast with her, was paid off to go back to Maine and essentially let the studios raise Missy.”
“Maria Santissima,” Alberta gasped. “What kind of mother would abandon her own child?”
“The kind who was dirt poor and had three other children to feed,” Sloan replied. “The kicker is that Missy’s earnings were tied up with business managers for most of her career, so her family didn’t get a penny other than the initial buyout her mother received to remove herself from Missy’s life.”
“How much did they pay her?” Alberta asked. “Not that any amount of money would be worth severing ties with your child, especially a baby so young.”
“Pierre didn’t say,” Sloan said. “But when Missy was fourteen years old, she became emancipated and took control of her finances herself.”
“Emancipated?” Alberta asked. “I don’t think I know what that means.”
“It’s when a minor petitions to become an adult in the eyes of the court,” Sloan explained. “Meaning a fourteen-year-old could make all her own decisions, financial and otherwise.”
“Sounds to me like it means she disowned her family,” Alberta commented.
“That’s exactly what it means. She severed ties not only with her family, but her business managers as well,” Sloan said. “It’s a drastic measure, but there must have been a solid reason because the judge allowed it.”
“What were the ramifications?” Alberta asked.
“By then Missy was already quite wealthy, but a little girl lost,
” Sloan said. “My guess is that she didn’t understand that her mother was forced out of her life and assumed she just flew the coop. That’s the only justification I can come up with to explain why Missy’s family remained poor while Missy was one of the wealthiest girls in the world.”
“I’ve heard about other child stars and how their business managers stole their money and misused their positions within their lives,” Alberta admitted. “But to think that Missy turned her back on her own family. That’s hard to accept.”
“I’m sure there’s a lot more to her story,” Sloan said. “Consider these the bullet points.”
“What happened after the final Daisy movie?” Alberta asked. “Did Missy reconcile with her parents?”
“According to Pierre, she did not, though all his information about her post-Daisy film career was strictly professional,” Sloan said. “She made a few films and TV guest appearances as an adult, but the offers dried up and she officially retired from acting in 1979. If you remember, she did a few talk show appearances after that on Merv Griffin and Mike Douglas, and there was that big retrospective on Phil Donahue.”
“I saw that!” Alberta exclaimed. “The entire hour was devoted to her. They had the whole cast on too. It was so wonderful to see them all together again.”
“That was the last time that would happen,” Sloan said. “The young man who played Daisy’s boyfriend and then husband, Willie Mueller, died shortly after that reunion in a car accident. And the guy who played the grandmother’s butler died the following year of a heart attack.”
“What about Inga, the woman who played Teddy?” Alberta asked.
“There’s nothing definitive on the Internet about her,” Sloan confirmed. “If she’s still alive, she’s keeping a very low profile.”
Unlike Inga, the actress who played Teddy, Alberta decided she didn’t want to hide in the shadows and gave Sloan a big thank-you kiss.
“What was that for?” Sloan asked. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“You have outdone yourself,” she replied. “You’ve filled in so many blanks about Missy’s life, you gave me flowers, and you remembered our anniversary.”
