Page 22 of What They'll Say About Us

"Alina asked me to."

"Who's Alina?"

"Paige's younger sister. She begged me to put the case on the podcast, generate public interest, and hopefully get the police to reopen their investigation."

"This is a terrible idea."

"Maybe, but I have to see it through."

"If Paige was killed, then this could get dangerous, Tessa. Did you think about that?"

My knees stung even more at her words, and the memory of that car speeding toward me made me wonder if it had been just a random red-light runner.

"Tessa," she said sharply. "Are you there?"

"I'm here. Who told you about the podcast?" I asked curiously.

"They were all talking about it at rehearsal."

"Rehearsal?"

"Yes, I have a production opening in two weeks, and some of the actors and crew members went to school with you. You know I've been hiring from the drama department since I leased the theater two years ago."

"I hadn't really thought about it," I muttered. I'd had to put distance between myself and my former acting aspirations after my dismal results in the New York theater world. And that was another reason I'd also put some distance between myself and my aunt. She'd been my aspirational person growing up. I'd wanted to have an acting career just like hers. But I'd never been as good as her. And that realization still hurt. "Who exactly is involved?"

"Professor Hale is a consultant. Jay Loomis adapted the play and is directing. Carrie Dunsmuir is one of my leads. Sloane Delano designed some of the set pieces, and Nate Gardiner runs the ticket office. All people who knew Paige very well," she added.

I couldn't believe the names she'd thrown out. Professor Hale was the one I'd accused Paige of flirting with to get the lead role. Jay Loomis had been the professor's TA. Carrie Dunsmuir had been two years younger than me and had become my understudy after I took over for Paige. Sloane was Paige's former roommate, and Nate Gardiner had been Paige's boyfriend. "I can't believe all those people are connected to your theater production."

"If you'd stayed in acting and remained in Chicago, you'd be connected, too. Some people don't need the bright lights of New York to enjoy acting and creating an experience for others to enjoy."

"I know you didn't agree with my decision to go to New York, Aunt Viv."

"It's not that I didn't agree with you going; it's that I don't understand why you quit. You were talented."

"Not according to the New York casting directors. I was too bubbly, too blonde, too one-note, and those are just the nicer things they said about me."

"You could have kept trying. Or come back to Chicago."

"We don't need to rehash all that. How are you doing otherwise?"

"Good. We do three to five plays a year, and we're sold out most nights. Occasionally, I even get back on stage, give the young ones a run for their money."

"I'm sure they can't compete with you."

"I'd really like to see you, Tessa. Since you're investigating Paige's death, you must be staying in Chicago. Why don't you come by the theater tomorrow afternoon? You can see some of the people you used to know and hear what they have to say. And then we'll go to dinner. Bring your friends if you want."

I did need to speak to all those people. Maybe this was an easy way to do that. "Okay. I'll come by tomorrow afternoon."

"Come around four. Where are you staying?"

"I'm at the hotel until tomorrow. Then I need to book another room for myself and my friend, Morgan."

"Well, don't do that. I lease a furnished apartment in the building next to the theater that I sublet, and it's currently unoccupied. You can stay there as long as you need."

That seemed like the perfect solution, but did I really want to be that close to all those people from my past? Did I want to be reminded of my failed career as an actress?

On the other hand, it would provide the perfect opportunity to talk to people without having to seek everyone out one-on-one. It would be less formal, less awkward.