“When you saw him, who else did you see? Near him.”
“Oh, oh, okay. Minx.”
“Minx.”
“Choreographer. Minerva Novak—everyone calls her Minx. She was standing next to Brant, and her husband was just behind her with a hand on her shoulder. Um. Next to her, Vera Harrow. I met her that night.” Samantha rolled her eyes. “Diva-time, and she’s with the iced smoothie, Rico Estaban.”
She shifted, rubbed her eyes. “Let’s see. Pretty sure Carla—she plays Angie, my bestie—was just in front of Brant, and her date—I can’t remember her name—was beside her, sort of. So kind of beside Brant but in front. Tessa—that’s our director—was in there. Honest, the rest is kind of a blur.”
“Tell us what you remember happening from there.”
“I saw, for just a second, Brant stepping back. Just caught a glimpse, the movement really. And honestly I wouldn’t have thought of it except for what happened to him. I think I heard glass break, but you learn to block out noises, so I’m not sure if I actually heard it or somebody said it so I think I heard it. But somebody screamed, I know I heard that. We kept singing for a couple seconds. We were face-to-face, then people were shouting and scrambling around. I didn’t see him at first—so many people. Eliza stepped over.”
“She wouldn’t have seen him, either, from where the two of you stood.”
“I don’t think so. She just started over, like what the hell, then she called out his name, and people made way for her, and I saw him on the floor.”
She looked away. “It was horrible. Like he was choking. And Dr. Cyril—I met him earlier—he was on the floor trying to help, saying to call nine-one-one, and Eliza was crying and pulling Brant into her arms. I just froze there. It was like everything froze, but it all happened so fast, too. He was standing there one minute, smiling, and the next…”
“Did you notice anything else, anyone else’s reaction?”
“I don’t think so. It was a lot of confusion, and Eliza was sobbing. I started to cry. A lot of people did. Oh, Vera Harrow brushed by me. Rico was leading her out to the terrace. She shoulder-bumped me, and that sort of brought me out of it for a minute. That’s when I started to cry.”
She shoved her half-full glass away. “Can’t stomach any more of that.”
“Here.” Eve pushed her glass across the table. “I haven’t touched it.”
“Really?” Samantha knuckled a tear away, sipped. “God, so much better. I really liked him. I never, honestly never, heard anyone in the company say anything bad about him. Some of us are meeting up later, to talk. We don’t know what’s going to happen. Will Eliza come back? Will they cancel the production, or recast her part? It wouldn’t be the same if they did. Most of us really need this job. I know how that sounds—”
“Human?” Peabody suggested.
Gratitude showed in her damp eyes.
“It’s just—we’ve really worked hard, and … But I’m sitting here, and I’m alive. I can drink a lousy kale smoothie and chase it with a Pepsi. I can walk home and maybe buy some flowers on the way to cheer myself up. I can do whatever I want because I’m alive. If this production ends, I’ll still be alive, and I’ll get another part, get another chance. Brant’s dead. He’ll never get another chance.”
She let out a long breath. “You both deal with this sort of thing all the time, so can I ask if you think I should contact Eliza? I don’t want to push in, but I…”
“Send a text or straight to v-mail,” Eve told her. “It lets her know you’re there, and gives her the choice of getting back to you when she’s ready.”
“Okay, thanks. That’s what I’ll do.”
They left her there, staring at her ’link, working out what to say.
“She comes off sincere,” Peabody commented as they walked back to the car.
“She does. Add Fitzhugh’s death puts her big break on the line, she’s got no motive. What she did was give us a clearer picture of who, during the performance, had reasonable opportunity. We’re going to find out more about Minerva Novak. We’ve got time to take another swing at Vera Harrow.”
“I’ll do a run on Novak, but can I have two minutes on the Great House Project? I’ve been good, I’ve been really good about not talking about it, and everything’s so awesome mag. Stuff’s happening every day now so every time we go over it’s like: Wow! Look at this, and—”
“You’re eating into your two minutes.”
“Right. Okay. Go. I’m starting with our side because you didn’t get over there last time. Our kitchen’s finished! You saw Mavis’s, and it’s so her, all that color. Ours is, well, quieter, I love my cabinets, and I have so much counter space. I’m going to bake my ass off! And last weekend when we were clear, I worked on the water feature. August, the nanny, pitched in. He’s great, handy, and it’s going to be completely uptown.”
She sucked in air. “The main-level powder room’s done. We have a main-level powder room! It’s so pretty. I can’t decide on the colors for my craft room. I’m going to have my very own craft room! One minute I think I want to go really bold, and the next maybe I should go soft so all the yarns and fabrics put on the show. But I found this terrific old curvy divan in a thrift shop. I need to reupholster it, but it’d be perfect once I decide on bold or soft. Next day off, we’re going to spatter-paint our home office.”
“With McNab’s blood?”
“Ha! No, you just take all kinds of paint, dip the brush in, then flick the paint at the walls. Crazy, fun patterns. Lots of energy. We figured we wanted lots of energy in our office. My dad’s building us a partner’s desk. Can you believe it?”
“He’s building a desk?”
“A partner’s desk. You sit on opposite sides of it. It’s perfect for us, and it’s so sweet of him. My mom’s making us the light for the dining area.”
“You can make lights?”
“If you’re my mom, you can. Blown-glass pendants. I’ll have pieces of them in my home. McNab’s parents shipped us some rocks from Scotland.”
“Rocks?” On this Eve turned her head, genuinely stunned. “They shipped rocks? Don’t you already have rocks?”
“Not from Scotland—or we didn’t. I’m incorporating them into the water feature, so we have pieces of McNab’s family in our home, too. I know it sounds silly.”
It should have, Eve thought, but somehow it didn’t sound silly at all.
“It’s weird, but in a nice sort of way.”
“His uncle carved our names into them. All of our names. Mine, McNab’s, Mavis’s, Leonardo’s, Bella’s. And they’re going to send another when Mavis has Number Two. And, man, you should see Leonardo’s attic work space. It’s crazy artistic, but efficient. I’m stealing some of his concept for my craft room. I think I’m going soft.”
“I’ll say.”
“For the color. I’m going to have a whole wall—maybe two walls—of cubbies and open shelves for the yarn, the fabrics, the trim. That would really pop against the soft, then I could go bold or fun on the divan. There’s a lot left to do, and so many decisions. Like do I want to keep the old bathroom vanity in the guest bath. It’s outdated and funky, but if I painted it and changed out the hardware, it could be fun and retro.”