Gone

Nora would never hurt anyone.”

“You like her.”

“She’s helped me. A lot.”

“As an actor.”

“As a person.” Sharp little lower teeth got hold of gluteal lip and held on.

I said, “Nora’s supportive.”

“Not- it’s not that. I was real shy, okay? She helped me step out of myself. Sometimes it wasn’t fun. But it helped- can I go now?”

Milo nodded. “Reseda, huh? Valley girl?”

“Nebraska.”

“Flatlands,” said Milo.

“You know Nebraska?”

“Been to Omaha.”

“I’m from Lincoln but same difference,” said Briana Szemencic. “You stare at forever and there’s nothing at the end. Can I go now? I’m really tired.”

Milo stepped back. “Thanks for stepping out of that silent thing your friends were into.”

“They’re not my friends.”

“No?”

“No one’s anyone’s friend over there.” She glanced back at the PlayHouse. The empty porch looked gloomy. Staged for gloomy, like a movie set.

“Not a friendly atmosphere?” said Milo.

“We’re supposed to concentrate on the work.”

“So when Dylan and Michaela started hanging out they broke a rule.”

“There are no rules. Michaela was being stupid.”

“How so?”

“Hooking up with Dylan.”

“Because Nora liked him?”

“Because he’s totally shallow.”

“You don’t share Nora’s enthusiasm.”

A beat. “Not really.”

“How come?”

“He’s hanging with Michaela but he’s also been getting into Nora? Gimme a break.”

“But no jealousy on Nora’s part.”

Yellow curls shook violently. She reached for the Nissan’s door handle. Milo said, “What about Reynold Peaty?”

“Who?”

“The janitor.”

“The fat guy?” Her arm dropped. “What about him?”

“He ever bother you?”

“Like perve-bother? No. But he stares, it’s creepy. He’s sweeping, mopping, whatever, and out of the corner of your eye you can see him staring. If you look at him, he turns away fast, like he knows he shouldn’t be doing it.” She shuddered. “Is he, like, serious-creepy? Like America’s Most Wanted creepy?”

“I couldn’t say that.”

Briana Szemencic’s slender frame stiffened. “But you couldn’t say no?”

“I have no evidence he’s ever done something violent, Briana.”

“If he’s not a perve, how come you asked about him?”

“My job is asking questions, Briana. Most of them turn out to be useless but I can’t take chances. Guess it’s kinda like acting.”

“What do you mean?”

“A little improv, a lot of hard work. Does Peaty hang out at the PlayHouse a lot?”

“When he’s cleaning.”

“Days as well as nights?”

“I’m only there nights.”

“Anyone else drop by?”

“Just people applying for workshops. Mostly Nora turns them away but there can still be crowds.”

“No talent.”

Another lip bite. “Yeah.”

“Any other reason she turns them away?”

“You’d have to ask her.”

Milo said, “Well, thanks again- it’s a cool thing, Nora giving away her skills for free.”

“Very cool.”

“Guess she can do that because her brothers fund the PlayHouse.”

“Her brothers and her,” said Briana Szemencic. “It’s like a whole family thing. They’re filthy rich but they’re artistic and generous.”

“The brothers ever drop by to see how it’s spent?”

“I’ve seen them a few times.”

“Sitting in?”

“More like walking around. Dropping by to visit Nora.” She gripped her purse with both hands. “Tell me the truth about that fat guy.”

“I already have, Briana.”

“He’s not a perve? You can guarantee me that?”

“He really scares you.”

“Like I said, he’s staring all the time.”

“I told you the truth, Briana.”

“But you were punking me about the other stuff.”

“What other stuff?”

“What you said about cop stuff being like acting. That was b.s., right?”

“You know a girl named Tori Giacomo?” said Milo.

“Who’s that?”

“Maybe a student here once.”

“I’ve only been here a year. You didn’t answer my question. That was total bullshit, right?”

“Nope, I meant it,” said Milo. “There are all kinds of similarities between cop work and acting. Like frustration. It’s a big part of my job just like it is for you.”

Big blue eyes filmed with confusion.

“I start off with a new case, Briana, all I can do is ask my questions, see if something takes shape. It’s just like reading a brand-new script.”

“Whatever.” She opened her car door.

“We both know one thing, Briana. It’s all about the work. You do your best, try to make it to the bottom of the funnel, but no guarantees.”

“I guess.”

Milo smiled. “Thanks for talking to us. Drive safely.”

As we began to walk away a high, tight voice from the Nissan said, “What’s the funnel?”

“A kitchen implement.”

***

She drove away. He pulled out his pad and jotted.

I said, “Off the record, huh?”

“She must’ve confused me for a reporter…guess Nora didn’t share the funnel analogy with her flock.”