“The truck,” said Lara, remembering that Todd had been looking for old examples of Le Cirque Margot’s livery. He’d shown her some photos that night in the garage. That night.
She spread them out on the counter. There were eight photos of the old truck from its day, most black-and-whites showing people posed around it. In one, Margot stood next to it with a feather headdress and sequined leotard. “This is the best one.” Marla slid the smaller photo from the pile. Lara noticed that the woman’s nails were meticulous with shiny beige polish. She tapped a color photo. “I think this one is from 1969.” She picked it up, studied it, and then, satisfied, pointed to the date stamped on the side of the photo paper. At this point, the truck looked old, but the logo was still visible. The photo was in color, and it appeared that the black lettering was actually royal blue. The woman paused, her clear blue eyes shining. “I didn’t know if I should give them to you, or if you knew about the truck. I’d tried to find other examples of the logo for him.”
Lara studied the photos and had trouble catching her breath. “I did know,” she said, almost croaking her words. “He showed it to me before…” She let the sentence hang. Gathering up the photos quickly, Lara slid them into the sleeve of the envelope. “Thank you. Do I owe you for these?” Lara didn’t look up, trying to scurry out of the place.
“Of course not.” Marla waved her hand.
Lara nodded and turned toward the door, clutching the two envelopes in her sweaty hands. As she got to the front of the office, the door opened and Kim Landau stepped through.
“Am I too late?” she called, realizing that Lara was blocking her from the counter.
“Just under the wire,” said Marla, her head back down in the file box, searching for Kim’s tickets.
“Lara,” said Kim, rather surprised to find her there, her big blue eyes wide. “You’re going to the gala tonight?”
“I am,” said Lara, turning toward the door in an attempt to pass her. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Kim—she really didn’t know her. It was just that the articles Kim had written about Todd after his disappearance always had a bite to them, like there was some underlying reason that Todd had left Lara, but she was too polite to spell it out.
“I… I was hoping that maybe you’d be up for an interview.”
“An interview?” Lara leveled her eyes at Kim. Her brows furrowed.
“You know,” said Kim, pulling strands of dark, nearly red hair away from her face. “How you’re feeling since the whole Todd thing…” She tilted her head from side to side, like she was selling jeans at the mall.
Lara felt her stomach twist. “How I’m feeling?” she snorted. “Are you kidding?”
Kim looked blank. “No… I—”
“I feel awful, Kim,” said Lara, cutting her off. “How do you think I’d feel? He’s missing… dead, maybe. I feel like shit. And you can quote me.”
“Here you go,” called Marla, holding Kim’s tickets in her hand. She turned her eyes to Lara conspiratorially. “It was so good to see you. I know you’re in a hurry. Thanks for stopping by to pick up those photos.”
Lara smiled, grateful for the rescue.
Kim went to say something to Lara, but she’d already pushed through the door.
That was ghastly,” said Audrey, her eyes wide. “She wanted to interview you?”
Lara fell back on the bed, closing her eyes. “She said she wanted to know how I was feeling.” Reaching out, Lara’s fingers felt the edge of Cecile’s journal, right on her bed where she’d left it.
“I hope you told her,” said Audrey, sitting back in Lara’s chair, her posture perfect. “The nerve of that woman. I ought to call Avery Caldwell myself to complain. You’re Simon Webster’s granddaughter for Christ’s sake. All the articles that they printed about you…” Audrey stared out at the window. “I should have called him earlier, instead of just having Caren get them from the mailbox. You know Ben Archer would get that paper first and would call me if there was something he thought you shouldn’t see in it.” Her mother kicked off her sneakers.
“Ben.” She hadn’t known the great Kerrigan Falls Express newspaper conspiracy had so many participants. Sensing the tone in her mother’s voice, she asked, “Do you approve?”
“It’s not that I don’t approve of him escorting you tonight. I just hope it’s for the right reason on your part.” Audrey picked up the photo of Lara and Todd that sat next to the lamp on the side table.
“You think it’s too soon,” said Lara, eyeing her mother.
“That’s not it.” Audrey placed the photo back on the table and strummed her long, pale fingers over it, considering her words. “As you well know, I was never a fan of Todd’s.”
“Then you think Ben is too old for me.”
“Well,” said Audrey. “He is ten years older than you? At least I can’t sense other women on him, like I used to do with Todd.” Her mother closed her eyes tightly at what appeared to be a painful memory, then realized that she was speaking out loud. “Sorry…”
Lara put her hands on her face, hoping this would all go away. “Todd was certainly no angel.”
“He wasn’t worthy of you, but I’m your mother, so… Just make sure that you really care about Ben Archer, that’s all. Don’t rebound. Trust me, I know about that. Take the time you need to recover.”
Lara lifted her head from the bed and looked at her mother suspiciously. “Rebound? What would you know about rebounding?”
“Are you thinking an updo?” Her mother changed the subject, swirling her finger in the general direction of Lara’s tangled mess of hair.
An hour later, those same locks had been tamed by a curling iron into smooth, long
