She mentally groaned. It was Trevor Lundquist, the Willow Creek Messenger’s reporter who had the most bylines. Trevor was a good-looking man. His brown hair was longer now than the last time she’d seen him. It had a slight wave and lay over his mint green oxford shirt collar. He had his sleeves rolled up. His brown cargo pants were casual yet up-to-date.
“You’re just the person I wanted to see,” he said. “And the fact that you’re here tells me what I want to know.”
“What do you want to know?”
“I want to know what happened to Margaret Vaughn, just like everyone else,” he said, his voice lowered. “Isn’t that why you’re here? You’re investigating?”
“I’m not investigating. I came to see Jonas.” She pointed to the back of the stage. “He’s helping with the sets. Seeing me here doesn’t mean a thing.”
“I know you, Daisy Swanson. You won’t be able to keep your nose out of this one. You found her.”
Daisy’s heart sank. How widespread was that knowledge? “Just how do you know that?”
“I have my sources.”
She was already shaking her head. “I don’t care about your sources. I’m not getting involved. The last investigation practically took my life. I have too much to live for to meddle again.” Her eyes automatically went to Jonas.
Trevor shifted from one foot to the other. “I hear you have a grandson.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I do, and you brought that up because . . . ?”
“I’m just making conversation. Can’t we be friendly?”
Her voice became firm as she looked into his eyes. “I don’t know, Trevor. Can we? In the past I’ve given you interviews after the fact. But I don’t know if that’s good for me or my family. I don’t want Willow Creek’s headlights turned onto me or anyone else I’m close to.”
Trevor’s frown caused long lines on either side of his mouth. “That doesn’t mean you can’t feed me information when you have it.”
“Read my lips, Trevor—I am not getting involved.”
Trevor pushed both of his hands palm-out in surrender. “I hear you. But I’ll talk to you again in a few days.” He backed up, then headed down the steps to the seating area of the theater.
Arden was on a ladder helping Jasper hang a new curtain. It looked as if the material was lush and heavy. Jasper confirmed that fact when he said to Arden, “This cost a heck of a lot more than it should have. But Margaret always had to have the best.”
“I’m not sure where she learned what was best,” Arden returned sharply. “She didn’t have that many posh possessions growing up from what I’ve heard. The Mennonite faith isn’t that far from being Amish, is it? She might not have had a phone or especially not music to dance to. Maybe not even a computer.”
“I don’t know if that’s true,” Jasper said. “Unless that’s the way her parents chose to live.”
“Didn’t you find it difficult to get to know Margaret? She was so closed off.”
Jasper, holding the curtain up in front of his shoulders, answered, “I want to know why she wouldn’t talk about her time acting in New York.”
“Only Glenda knew her then, and probably all of her secrets. You know how often they had their heads together.”
Jonas was fitting two sections of scenery together when Daisy approached him. He was wearing a chambray shirt with the sleeves rolled up and blue jeans worn white at the pockets and the knees. She wanted to go up to him and put her arms around his waist . . . but not here . . . not now.
As soon as he finished with the corner of the scenery, he turned toward Daisy and his face lit up with a smile. When he was glad to see her like that, her heart seemed to do a little dance, at least the rhythm of it did.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said.
“It was your suggestion, remember?”
“I guess it was. Did you come over to see our progress?” He lowered his voice. “Or to talk to everybody in sight?”
She elbowed him and smiled. “I don’t have to talk to everybody to hear things. I just heard an interesting conversation between Arden and Jasper.”
“Did you learn anything?”
“Just that Margaret paid too much for the curtain.”
Jonas chuckled. “From what I understand, she paid too much for everything, including the oriental rug that’s used in the living room scene and those cushioned seats out there. But I’ve got to admit if I’m comfortable watching the show, I’m more likely to come back.”
Vanna, who was standing in the wings, beckoned to Jonas.
“I’ll be right back,” Jonas said to Daisy. “Are you going to wait?”
“I’ll just look around.” Arden and Jasper were no longer on the ladder.
Daisy noticed that the left side of the curtain had been hung. She peered up at a brass chandelier that must be part of the living room set. She wandered to the back of the stage. Even though it was a wider area than she expected, it was crowded with cutouts of fir trees in differing heights. That made sense since the name of the play had North Woods in it. There was also a sleigh, an old wagon, and a staircase. She imagined that staircase would be used to lead to the second floor of the house in the north woods. Vanna had told her a few things about the play, so she recognized where the scenery would go.
The scent of newly sanded wood, paint, and stain was strong at the rear of the stage. She wandered along the row of trees wondering where the costumes were kept. She wouldn’t mind having a glimpse of those.
Just then she saw a shadow above her. Before she could even think about taking a step, a row of plywood pine trees fell on top of her, jostling her onto the floor. The noise was loud enough to capture everyone’s attention, she supposed, because she heard
