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line-up…”

Zachary stared at the pictures and awards on Halloran’s wall, considering his approach.

“Well then, I suppose there’s no point in staying around here arguing. I’ll let Molly and Isabella know that you were not comfortable in helping us. They’ll have to look elsewhere for assistance.” He printed in his notebook slowly and deliberately: Halloran did it.

Zachary was sure that Halloran was in no position to see what it was that Zachary was writing. It was the implication that Zachary had gained insight from the fact that Halloran wouldn’t help him that was important. It was the pantomime that was meant to have an effect. He might just as well have written The Cat in the Hat, but there was a one in a million chance that Halloran’s subconscious could tell what Zachary was writing from the movements of his pen or the sound of the scratches on the paper. Or there might be a reflection or surveillance camera of which Zachary was unaware. If there was any chance that Halloran could guess at what he had written, consciously or unconsciously, Zachary didn’t want it to be nonsense. He wanted it to be an accusation.

“No, no, I didn’t say I wouldn’t help,” Halloran protested quickly, taking the bait. “I’m just… having difficulty reconciling how any of this is going to help our Isabella.”

“You leave that part to me. I’ve done my best to explain it to you, but I can’t tell you everything I know.”

Halloran vigorously scratched the top of his bald head, scowling.

“Isabella has always been a little… flighty. She has an artist’s disposition. They’re not always the easiest of people to work with. She takes offense or gets put off. Or something is wrong, and she gets preoccupied with it. Not because she’s a prima donna, she just… gets stuck when things aren’t right. The wrong kind of water. Someone gets the wrong shade of paint or the wrong shape of brush. She gets all bent out of shape over it. That’s just the way it is when you’re dealing with artistic temperaments. Actors are just as bad, or worse.”

“Sure,” Zachary nodded. “Just because she’s brilliant and comes off as happy and friendly on the screen, that doesn’t mean that’s how she is in private.”

“That damn title,” Halloran snapped. “Why did we have to call it The Happy Artist? Practically doomed it to failure.”

“Because you can’t exactly have your happy artist in mourning on screen.”

He nodded. “And let me tell you, happy she is not.”

“She just lost her only child. Who could expect her to be?”

“She didn’t just lose him. It was months ago.”

“And you expected her to be over it by now?”

“Not exactly… but she wasn’t the motherly type. She didn’t talk about him all the time and post his crayon drawings in her dressing room. She barely mentioned her family.” At Zachary’s look, he shook his head. “Maybe she was just the private type. Maybe she was all kisses and cuddles at home. I have no way of knowing, but we do have a contract. She’s required to be here and to fulfill the terms of her contract. Even before this happened, I wouldn’t say she was happy. Off screen. There was always some problem.”

“Did she rub anyone the wrong way? Was there anyone in particular who was bothered by her moodiness?”

“Was there?” Halloran repeated. “You mean before her son died? You’re asking if anyone had a motive to kill her child because they didn’t like the way she behaved on set?”

“I’m just exploring the possibilities.”

“You can put that one right out of your mind. She was annoying, but no one wanted to destroy her. No one would kill her child just to stop her from showing up for work.”

Zachary nodded. He hadn’t expected the line of questioning to lead anywhere. “Still, was there anyone who was particularly irritated by her? Or jealous of her success? What would you have done if she had been unable to continue her show?”

“We would have had to change the lineup. I can’t be sure who we would have put in her place. We would have needed something new; we didn’t have anything that would have the same success in that time slot as The Happy Artist.”

“Is there anyone who might have thought that they would get it?”

“I’m sure that all the other shows thought they were as good as she was or had the same draw, but one over another… no. Sorry.”

“Do you have a list of the other shows…?”

“You can pull that online. There’s nothing confidential about the line-up.”

But that didn’t stop him from being obstructive. Zachary leaned back in his chair, trying to give Halloran the impression that he was calm and relaxed, finished with the serious questioning.

“How has she been since her son’s death? Any… unusual or concerning behavior?”

“She was always eccentric, but since then, things have gotten a little out of hand. That tattoo, all her memorial jewelry… I had a hell of a time talking her into taking off the jewelry when she is on screen. She can wear the ring and one of the necklaces. Not the one with the teeth!”

Zachary suppressed a snort of laughter. He could just see Isabella wearing that one during the show.

“She does not appreciate being told that she has to cover up her tattoo during the show. Can you imagine how distracting that would be? We have to show close-ups of her hands to show technique. Lots of zooming in, and that great big tattoo on her arm! The viewers wouldn’t see anything else. Why couldn’t she just do something small and tasteful in a part of her body that wouldn’t be on the screen? Her ankle. We never show her ankles.”

“Was there anything in her contract that said she couldn’t get a tattoo?”

“No, but we have the right to make wardrobe and makeup choices, and covering up the tattoo falls into wardrobe, so she has to suck it up.”

“And has she?”

“There was trouble over it the first

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