“According to this Bobby Valentine, there’s always a crowd around wherever the show is taped.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I gather you didn’t know anything about this,” Sam said.
“No one mentioned it to me,” Josie admitted. “But I don’t see why it should be much of a problem.”
“Well, I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Sam said. “A bunch of spectators could disrupt deliveries if they’re kept in the street, to say nothing of what might happen if they’re allowed to wander around on the property. It sounds to me like a police line of some sort is an excellent idea.”
“Does this mean you’re planning on hanging that yellow police tape around my work site?”
“No, that’s just the point,” Mike said proudly. “Courtney Castle doesn’t want anyone to see a police line. We’re going to prevent curious people from getting anywhere near your work. The entire block will be cordoned off.”
Josie could just imagine what Cheryl’s husband would have to say about that. “What about the neighbors? The other people who live on the street?”
“Right now we’re working on having passes printed up,” Mike explained.
“But…” Josie began.
“How large an area is going to be cordoned off?” Sam asked. “Surely the whole block is a bit excessive.”
“We will do whatever Miss Courtney Castle asks,” the chief of police answered.
Josie took another step backward. A fatal one for the Beaujolais, as it turned out. Glass and wine flew in all directions, drenching Josie’s overalls as well as Sam’s chinos and loafers. The ensuing cleanup didn’t interest the Rodneys, and claiming urgent police business, they stepped over the mess and left. Sam called to an employee to bring a mop and he led Josie to his small office in the rear of the store. He seated her in his desk chair and grabbed a wineglass from a nearby shelf. “Red or white?”
“I’ll stick with red,” she answered, glancing down at her stained clothing.
Sam waited until she’d had time to taste the wine before he asked his first question. “Why do you object to this police line? Even if it’s a bit excessive, it probably won’t be a problem for you.”
“Ha! Everything about Courtney and her show will be a problem for me!”
“How can you possibly know that? You’ve just met!”
“She doesn’t make a good first impression,” Josie answered after a short pause.
“Meaning?”
“Sam, you should have been there. She drove up in this hot car-a silver Porsche, for heaven’s sake.”
“Wow. I wonder if PBS pays for that.”
Josie couldn’t believe it; he sounded envious. “You know, Sam-”
“It doesn’t matter. Go on. What did she do when she drove up?”
“She… she started to complain about everything immediately. She didn’t like where the Dumpster was located or how we filled it. Ask Jill or Annette or Dottie. They all heard her complaining.”
“I don’t doubt you, Josie, but so what?”
“I don’t know. It’s just that she bugs me. I’m really beginning to regret agreeing to be on television.”
Sam picked up his full glass, then put it down without drinking. “I think I’ll keep my head clear.”
Josie didn’t have any such compunction. She drained her glass and stared at the desk before her.
“We could go out to dinner,” Sam suggested. “Sounds like you need a break. And tomorrow’s going to be a big day.”
Josie frowned.
Sam knew what she was thinking. “How about if we just get a beer and a pizza at that new restaurant down on the boardwalk. You’ll be home long before Tyler arrives.”
“I hear that place is usually crowded.”
Sam shrugged. “Let’s give it a try anyway. We can take your truck.”
“It’s filthy,” Josie warned him.
“So are we,” Sam said, glancing at their wine-stained clothing. “So are we.”
But the popularity of the new pizza place had apparently been exaggerated. They were almost the only customers in the gleaming white-tiled room. Sam looked around as he pulled Josie’s chair out for her. “Guess we won’t have to wait long for our food.”
Josie looked over his shoulder, recognizing a member of Tyler ’s old Cub Scout troop. “Luke! Look at you! You look so grown up!” She knew she sounded stupid.
Apparently the teenager was used to the clichés of adults. “Hi, Ms. Pigeon. I saw Tyler at the video store this morning. Cool job.”
“This looks like a pretty good place to work, too.”
Another couple walked in the door.
“Hey, we make the best pizza on the island. We’ve been jammed every day since we opened. Course it looks like everything’s changed now. Maybe you could do something about that,” he added, handing Josie a menu.
“Me? What do I have to do with it?”
“You’re what brought that carpenter lady to the island, aren’t you?”
“What carpenter?”
“You’re talking about Courtney Castle, aren’t you?” Sam asked.
“Yeah. She’s over at Basil’s new place tonight.”
“So?”
“So that’s where all our customers have gone.”
“They followed Courtney Castle to dinner?” Josie asked, amazed. She herself was thrilled to be away from Courtney for the evening.
“Damn right. There’s a line around the block over there. The line that should be going out that door,” Luke added, nodding to the pizza parlor’s entrance.
“I don’t think you have to worry about this being permanent. Courtney is new to the island. After a few weeks, people will become accustomed to seeing her around and maybe they won’t be quite so starstruck,” Sam said.
“I sure hope so, Mr. Richardson. This is a great job. I get all the leftover pizza I want at the end of each day. And the tips are good, too. If they go out of business, I’m dead meat.”
Josie had been looking around the large room. “Did you mention any of this to the couple sitting at that table by the window?”
Luke followed her glance. “No. What do they have to do with it?”
“Well, the pretty young woman is one of my carpenters. But the young guy is a summer intern on Courtney’s show. Maybe if he likes the food, he could mention it to Courtney and she might start coming here.”
“Hey, cool. Do you think maybe I should give him a menu and he could take it to her, and then she’d try the pizza and like it and start coming here?” Luke asked.
“It’s possible.”
“Hey, I’d better make sure they get good service. And they could order out. I’ll tell them we deliver.”
“You have takeout service?” Sam asked as Luke turned to rush off.
“Well, not for just anybody, Mr. Richardson. But for Courtney Castle… well, that’s different.”
“Things are different for Courtney Castle?” Josie mused, a frown creasing her face.
“I think, Josie, you’d better get used to it.”
SIX
IT WAS SUMMER. People who had struggled to earn enough money to buy summer houses at the beach were enjoying those homes. Rental agencies had NOTHING AVAILABLE THIS SEASON signs posted in their windows. Daytrippers from inland lugged tons of paraphernalia to and from the sandy beach, many of them with children in tow. The island had only two main roads that carried most of the vehicles traveling north or south. But a traffic jam at seven-thirty in the morning? Josie was glad she had a mug of coffee propped between her toolbox and a new sweatshirt on the seat by her side. She had gotten up early and left her apartment quickly, pausing only to greet her very sleepy son. She thought there wasn’t a chance she’d be late the first day of taping. But now… The car behind her was honking and she threw an angry glance over her shoulder. Probably some damn tourist rushing to his rented house with a bag of warm doughnuts from the bakery.
“Damn idiot. How the hell does he expect me to move? Maybe I’m supposed to run right over the cars in front of me?” Annoyed, she reached out for her coffee and succeeded in spilling it over the sweatshirt. “Damn!” At least it hadn’t splashed on her new carpenter’s pants. As she raised the mug to her lips, a hand jogging her arm through the window did just that. “What the-?”