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I put on my turn signal and pulled into the driveway. “And those would be?”

Mom put a hand to her mouth and yawned. “What your brother euphemistically refers to as ‘big teeth.’” She shook her head. “The man was such a stereotype. He was canoodling with the wardrobe assistant and she’s all of twenty. Very . . . toothy.”

“Canoodling?” I said as we walked around the side of the house.

“I was trying not to be crass, sweetie,” she said, reaching over to pat my cheek. “Would you rather I say he was—”

“Never mind,” I interrupted, holding up both hands.

“What can I get you?” I asked as we stepped into the kitchen, where Owen and Hercules were waiting. “Another cup of tea?”

She nodded. “That would be wonderful. I want to take a look at both scripts before I go to bed.” She smiled down at the cats. “Hello, you two. What a nice welcome to come home to.”

“The big chair in the living room has the best light,” I said. “I’ll bring your tea in when it’s ready.”

Mom took her overflowing tote bag into the living room, trailed by her furry fan club.

I put the water on to boil and fished my cell phone out of my bag. Marcus answered on the third ring. “Hi, Kathleen,” he said.

“Hi, Marcus,” I said. Why did I smile whenever I heard his voice? “Is Hannah there?”

“She just walked in the door. Do you want to talk to her?”

I slid the container of tea bags across the counter. “Would it be okay if I came over for a few minutes?”

“You figured something out,” he said.

“I think so.”

“We’ll be here.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

When the tea was ready I took a cup in to Mom, along with two of the brownies I’d taken out of the freezer earlier. She was in the wing chair, feet tucked underneath her, with her glasses on her lap. Owen and Hercules were curled up on the floor beside the footstool.

“Umm, how did you know I needed some chocolate?” she said when she saw the brownies.

“I know you,” I said.

Two furry heads swung around at the word “chocolate.”

I wiped my hands on my jeans. “I need to go out for a little while,” I said. “Could I get you anything else before I go?”

Mom shook her head. “Are you going to see Detective Gordon?”

“Yes,” I said. “But not for anything . . . romantic.”

She leaned forward and set her glasses on the footstool. “Katydid, do you know why I married your father?”

“Which time?” I said dryly.

She laughed. “Okay. I deserved that.” She shifted in the chair. “The first time we were married he drove me crazy. I didn’t see how I could ever live with him for the rest of my life. I was sure I wasn’t going to make it to Tuesday. But when we were apart I hated it. I didn’t want a man I could live with. I wanted someone I couldn’t live without.”

She looked at me for a long moment and then she reached for her glasses again. “I appreciate you not rolling your eyes,” she said.

I leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “I love you,” I said. “I’ll see you later.” I thought about her words all the way to Marcus’s house. It wasn’t as simple as she made it out to be.

If I went back to Boston with Andrew, things would be easy—no complications, no turmoil. It was tempting. Marcus and I couldn’t seem to get a relationship started, let alone keep it going. But if Andrew was a man I could live with, did that mean Marcus was the man I couldn’t live without?

Marcus was sitting on his back steps, elbows propped on his long legs.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi.” He gestured at the back door. “Hannah’s inside.”

“Did you tell her I was coming?”

He nodded. “You know who killed Hugh Davis, don’t you?”

“I think so. I know who and I think I know why. And I can’t prove any of it.”

He looked up at me. I could see the stubble on his chin in the light from the kitchen window. He looked tired. “You figured out how Hannah is tied up in this.” He didn’t phrase it as a question.

“I did.” I shifted from one foot to the other. “I can just . . . I can just go.”

“No.” He exhaled slowly. “Somebody killed the man. I know it’s not my case, but I can’t do nothing and take the chance that maybe that somebody is going to walk away.” He stood up and brushed off his jeans. “C’mon in.”

Hannah was in the living room, curled up in one corner of the sofa with a script. She was wearing gray sweatpants and a red hoodie. Her bare toes were tucked down between two sofa cushions.

“Hi,” she said. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

Marcus sat on the arm of the chair and I took the chair.

“Hannah, do you remember telling me that Ben didn’t really like Hugh?”

She nodded.

“Who told you that?”

She frowned. “Chloe, I think. She’s worked with them both. Why?”

I rubbed my fingers over the arm of the chair. “It’s not true.”

She looked at me, clearly puzzled. “Why would Chloe lie about something like that?”

“Because it made Ben look like a suspect in Hugh’s death,” I said.

Her blue eyes widened. “You think Chloe killed Hugh? That’s crazy. Why would she want to kill Hugh?”

I took a deep breath. “Because of what happened when you were all working on Yesterday’s Children.”

The color drained out of her face. “That stupid play,” she whispered.

“Hugh bullied his actors, didn’t he?”

Hannah nodded. “He did. He pulled some incredible performances out of people, but I didn’t like the way he went about it. “

I glanced over at Marcus. I couldn’t read his expression. “I heard a story that he rode one actress so hard she started cutting herself.”

Hannah pulled at the fabric of her sweatpants. “I heard that, too. I don’t know if it’s true.”

“I think it is,” I said. “I think the actress was Chloe. I think that’s how she got those scars on her arm.”

Hannah shook her head. “No. She was in a car accident.”

My palms were sweating and I wiped them on my jeans. “I don’t think so. I did a search in the archives of the newspaper in Chloe’s hometown in Florida. I can’t find anything about an accident. I don’t think there was one.”

“Why did she lie?” Marcus asked.

“I’m not positive, but I think probably because she didn’t want anyone to know she’d had psychological problems. She probably thought she wouldn’t get hired if word got around.”

“She wouldn’t have,” Hannah said. She looked at me and something changed in her face. “You think Chloe killed Hugh.” She shook her head again. “No. Not Chloe.”

I leaned forward, arms on my knees. “I think she lied about when she got to town. She told me that Hugh wanted her to take part in the festival when really she was the one who went after the job.”

“Why would Chloe want to kill Hugh? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“It does when you know that Chloe had to back out of a movie role because of her psychological issues—issues that Hugh contributed to. That same part turned out to be the breakout role for the actress who replaced her. There’s already talk of an Oscar nomination for a movie she has coming out later this year.”

“Chloe thought that could have been her life, if it hadn’t been for Hugh,” Marcus said. He shook his head.

I steeled myself for my next question. “Hannah, did you see anything that night at the marina?”

“I already told you, Kathleen. I wasn’t there.” Her eyes never left my face and nothing in her expression gave her away, but I saw her left hand clench tightly into a fist.

“I know about the Share the Change, Be the Change contest,” I said.

“What contest?” Marcus asked.

I didn’t say anything. I kept my eyes fixed on Hannah and waited for her to answer.