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air quotes. “But she goes on them two or three times a month.”

“Stress vacations two or three times a month?” I repeated as I made a skeptical face. “Sounds fishy. Sounds like an affair.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” Vicki agreed with a nod, “but she’s not married, and I don’t think she’s in a relationship. So, why would she sneak around?”

“How stressful can being a music therapist be?” I mused as I rubbed my chin. “I’m sure there are ups and downs, but you don’t need a stress vacation two or three times a month.”

“Exactly,” Vicki said. “The whole thing is weird.”

At that moment, we heard someone come into the office, and I peeked my head into the main room.

“Horace,” I said with a smile. “Good to see you.”

“Hi, Henry,” the burly man greeted me. “I just got out of a lunch at Jitters, and with you guys right here, I thought I’d come by to personally talk to you about what’s going on.”

“Wow,” I said and cocked an eyebrow. “Sounds important.”

“If the ladies are here,” he said, “they can hear, too. It concerns all of you.”

“Great,” I said, and the sounds from the conference room wafted in through the office.

“What the hell is that?” Horace asked in disgust.

“That,” I laughed, “is the sound of a murder investigation.”

“Huh,” he said and furrowed his brow as he listened. “What the hell are they speakin’? Gibberish?”

“Hindi,” AJ said as she and Vicki peeked out in the main room.

“Hindi,” he echoed and scrunched up his face, “that’s one of them religions were the men wear those robes. Ugh. Ain’t nobody want to see all that shit. On a woman, hell yeah. But, a man, shit no. Nobody wants to see your hairy ass beer gut all falling out your robe. I know they don’t want to see mine.”

We all laughed, and I gestured toward a chair while AJ flipped off the music for a bit.

“Have a seat, Horace,” I said.

Horace sat and we all gathered in the office and sat around him.

“Well,” Horace wiped his meaty hands on his jeans, “we’ve got some serious business to discuss.”

I nodded with a hint of impatience, since we did have a ticking clock on a murder investigation.

“I know this is going to be difficult to hear,” Horace continued, “Lord knows it’s difficult to say, but I just had lunch with Michael Knapp, and … the film’s been canceled.”

His expression was grave and solemn as he watched our faces like he was waiting for us to have an intense emotional reaction.

I gave him the appropriate amount of nodding and somber silence.

“Well, thank you for coming over personally to tell us that,” I said. “I’m sure Michael will be sending out a mass notification, but we do appreciate the heads up.”

“That’s not all,” he added. “There’s been a development.”

“A development?” I asked curiously.

“Now,” he said as he leaned forward and looked us all in the eye, “I want you to think carefully about what I’m about to tell you. Don’t go into this lightly.”

I frowned. “Go into what?”

“Michael Knapp has asked me, and my theatre, to produce a stand in piece for the festival,” he went on. “It won’t have all the original flavor of the first. It will be a much smaller stage production.”

Then he looked each of us one by one in the eye and delivered his next line.

“I’d like to invite all of you to be a part of it,” he announced.

This part I had a definite emotional reaction to, but it wasn’t the one Horace was looking for, so I kept it under wraps.

After a pregnant pause, Horace launched into his pitch.

“It’s going to be an exciting production,” he said with a broad grin. “We’re going to start from scratch, so I’ll need actors, and writers, and crew and everything. And we’ll be on a time crunch. The fourth is in about three weeks.”

I turned to Vicki, who, with the tiniest upturn of her lip, told me she felt the same way I did.

“Well, Horace,” I replied hesitantly, “I am honored, I truly am. But, I can speak for Vicki as well, that this business with Jerry and The Count has got us swamped.”

“I hear ya.” Horace nodded.

“I think we would like to devote our service to finding out what really happened that day at the studio,” I continued diplomatically. “You work on your end, and we’ll work on our end.”

Horace grinned and slapped his knee. “I like the way you think. I understand. What happened to Jerry was tragic, and the people of this town need answers.”

“They do,” I agreed, “and I want to give it to them.”

“I’ll do it,” AJ suddenly piped up.

We all froze and turned to look at her.

“What?” I asked in confusion.

“I’ll join the production,” she explained with a smile.

Horace looked surprised.

“You know,” AJ continued, “Jerry had me write a couple of scenes, and it was difficult and crazy and confusing, but that’s because the whole production was those things. But the writing itself I really enjoyed. I would love to sign on as a writer.”

Horace’s face lit up. “Well, you got yourself a deal, little lady.”

Vicki and I both looked at her quizzically. I didn’t expect that from her.

“We’re starting from scratch,” Horace said. “So come up with some ideas, and we’ll meet tonight.”

“Cool,” AJ replied with a smile.

Horace left the office, and AJ grabbed her laptop and floated back to the conference room and the Hindu techno.

“Who would have thought?” I mused to Vicki.

“A blogger becoming a scriptwriter?” Vicki answered. “No, I didn’t see that coming.”

I laughed, and my phone buzzed.

“It’s my dad,” I said as I looked at the screen.

“I

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