Milo edged closer, pressed his hip against the hinges of the driver’s door. “What surprises me is the lack of curiosity. All you guys. Someone you know gets killed, you’d think there’d be some interest.” He sliced air horizontally. “Zippo, no one cares. Is it something about actors?”
She frowned. “Just the opposite. You need to be curious.”
“To act.”
“To learn about our feelings.”
“Nora tells you that.”
“Anyone who knows anything tells you that.”
“Let me get this,” said Milo. “You’re curious about playing parts, but not about real life?”
“Look,” said the girl, “sure, I’d like to know. It scares me. The whole murder thing. Just talking about it. I mean, come on.”
“Come on?”
“If it happened to Michaela, it could happen to anyone.”
I said, “You see it as a random crime?”
She turned to me. “What do you mean?”
“As opposed to something that had to do with Michaela.”
“I- she was- I don’t know, maybe.”
Milo said, “Was there something about Michaela that made her a likely victim?”
“That thing she- they did. Her and Dylan. Lying.”
“Why would that put her in danger?”
“Maybe they ticked someone off.”
“Are you aware of someone that angry?”
“Nope.” Too quickly.
“No one, Briana?”
“No one. I got to go.”
“In a sec,” said Milo. “What’s your last name?”
She looked ready to cry. “Do I have to say?”
Milo tried for a soft smile. “It’s routine, Briana. Address and phone number, too.”
“Briana Szemencic.” She spelled it. “Can this be off the record?”
“Don’t worry about that. Live around here, Briana?”
“Reseda.”
“Bit of a drive.”
“I work in Santa Monica. With the traffic it’s easier to stay in the city and go back later.”
“What kind of work do you do, Briana?”
“Shitty work.” Rueful smile. “I’m an assistant at an insurance agency. I file, I get coffee, I gofer. Beaucoup excitement.”
“Hey,” said Milo, “pays the bills.”
“Barely.” She touched her lips.
“So who was pissed off about the hoax, Briana?”
Long pause. “No one that much.”
“But…”
“Nora was a little frosted.”
“How could you tell?”
“When someone asked her about it she got this real tight look and changed the subject. Can you blame her? It sucked, using the PlayHouse like that. Nora’s a private person. When Michaela never came back, I figured Nora gave her the boot.”
“Dylan came back.”
“Yeah,” she said. “That was the funny thing. She wasn’t mad at Dylan, kept treating him nice.”
Milo said, “Even though the hoax was mostly his idea.”
“That’s not what he said.”
“Dylan blamed it on Michaela?”
“Totally, he said she really worked on him. Nora must’ve believed him because she…like you said, he came back.”
“Does Nora like Dylan more than the other guys?”
Fragile shoulders rose and fell. Briana Szemencic gazed up the block. “I don’t think I should go there.”
“Touchy business?”
“Not my business,” said Briana. “Anyway, Nora would never hurt anyone. If you’re thinking that, you’re totally wrong.”
“Why would we be thinking that?”
“You’re asking was she mad. She was but not that type of mad.”
“Not the jealous type of mad?”
Briana didn’t answer.
Milo said, “Nora and Dylan, Dylan and Michaela. But no jealousy.”
“Nora had the hots for Dylan, okay? It’s no crime, she’s a woman.”
“Had or has?”
“I don’t know.”
“Same question, Briana.”
“Has. Okay?”
“How’d Nora feel about Dylan and Michaela hanging out?”
Briana shook her head. “She never said anything. It’s not like we were tight. Can I go now? Please?”
“Nora didn’t like Dylan and Michaela hanging but she wasn’t really pissed off about it.”
“She’d never hurt Michaela. Never, ever. You need to understand Nora, she’s…she’s kind of, really, like, she’s not, you know…she’s here.” Tapping her pretty forehead.
“Intellectual?”
Tush lips struggled to form words. Finally, she said, “That’s not what I mean, I’m talking more, like, you know, she’s intensely right brain. Intuitionalistic. That’s the point of the workshops, she shows us how to tap into ourselves, free the inner…” Pillow lips wriggled as she struggled for vocabulary. “Nora’s all about scenes, she’s always telling us to break everything into scenes, that way it’s not so huge, you can deal with it until you get the whole gestalt- that means the big picture. I think she kind of lives that way herself.”
“Scene by scene,” said Milo.
“She’s not paying attention to down here.” Pointing to the asphalt.
“Reality.”
The word seemed to bother Briana Szemencic. “All the crap below the right brain, whatever you want to call it. Nora would never hurt anyone.”
“You like her.”
“She’s helped me. A lot.”
“As an actor.”
“As a person.” Sharp little lower teeth got hold of gluteal lip and held on.
I said, “Nora’s supportive.”
“Not- it’s not that. I was real shy, okay? She helped me step out of myself. Sometimes it wasn’t fun. But it helped- can I go now?”
Milo nodded. “Reseda, huh? Valley girl?”
“Nebraska.”
“Flatlands,” said Milo.
“You know Nebraska?”
“Been to Omaha.”
“I’m from Lincoln but same difference,” said Briana Szemencic. “You stare at forever and there’s nothing at the end. Can I go now? I’m really tired.”
Milo stepped back. “Thanks for stepping out of that silent thing your friends were into.”
“They’re not my friends.”
“No?”
“No one’s anyone’s friend over there.” She glanced back at the PlayHouse. The empty porch looked gloomy. Staged for gloomy, like a movie set.
“Not a friendly atmosphere?” said Milo.
“We’re supposed to concentrate on the work.”
“So when Dylan and Michaela started hanging out they broke a rule.”
“There are no rules. Michaela was being stupid.”
“How so?”
“Hooking up with Dylan.”
“Because Nora liked him?”
“Because he’s totally shallow.”
“You don’t share Nora’s enthusiasm.”
A beat. “Not really.”
“How come?”
“He’s hanging with Michaela but he’s also been getting into Nora? Gimme a break.”
“But no jealousy on Nora’s part.”
Yellow curls shook violently. She reached for the Nissan’s door handle. Milo said, “What about Reynold Peaty?”
“Who?”
“The janitor.”
“The fat guy?” Her arm dropped. “What about him?”
“He ever bother you?”
“Like perve-bother? No. But he stares, it’s creepy. He’s sweeping, mopping, whatever, and out of the corner of your eye you can see him staring. If you look at him, he turns away fast, like he knows he shouldn’t be doing it.” She shuddered. “Is he, like, serious-creepy? Like America’s Most Wanted creepy?”
“I couldn’t say that.”
Briana Szemencic’s slender frame stiffened. “But you couldn’t say no?”
“I have no evidence he’s ever done something violent, Briana.”
“If he’s not a perve, how come you asked about him?”
“My job is asking questions, Briana. Most of them turn out to be useless but I can’t take chances. Guess it’s kinda like acting.”
“What do you mean?”
“A little improv, a lot of hard work. Does Peaty hang out at the PlayHouse a lot?”