“Smitty?” Chloe echoed.
“Chloe, good to see you.” Smitty emerged from the bedroom, arms wide.
“You know her?”
“You know him?”
“We go back all of what, three years?” Smitty nodded at Chloe.
“Something like that.” Chloe was good with facial expressions. Right now she was saying,I don’t believe any of this, without saying a word.
“Yeah, sure, we met on set. A TV movie. I invited her to church.”
Jesse turned to Smitty. “You go to church?”
“Yeah, Expression58. Shawn Bolz. Great guy.”
“I’ve known you for eight years, and never once have you mentioned church.”
“Neither have you.” Smitty dropped down on a plush, leather sofa and stretched his arms across the top.
“I didn’t know I needed to mention church.” He’d considered the institution of religion after Loxley died, window-shopped a few places in LA. But the moment he walked inside, he felt the judgment from those who were holier than thou.
“Well, now you know.” Smitty stood. “I’m famished. Anyone for pizza?”
“I’m confused.” Chloe stepped between them. “Smitty, were you here yesterday morning talking to my dad?”
“You saw me and didn’t say hi?” He looked sincerely disappointed. “I wanted to see if Jess could move in here. I needed him O-U-T of Archer’s place ASAP.”
“How do you know my dad?”
“Yeah,” Jesse said. “How do you know Raymond Daschle?”
“We go way back. I auditioned for him a few years ago.”
“You auditioned for Raymond Daschle?”
“Didn’t I tell you?”
“No, but I suppose I should’ve asked.”
Chloe smirked, shaking her head. “Dad let you borrow Mr. Crumbly’s space?”
“Yeah, sure. Why not? Crumbly was okay with it.”
“No, no,” Chloe said with a laugh. “You donotknow Mr. Crumbly too.” She glanced at Jesse. “He’s an old friend of my father’s. A missionary. He stays here when he’s stateside. But he’s in South America for a year.”
“Are you sure?” Jesse shot an icy glare at Smitty. “He said Archer was going to be gone for a year too.”
“He’s gone.” Smitty sat confident and cocky, his arms stretched out like he owned the place. “I double-checked it. Called Crumbly myself.”
“I need a flow chart to track everyone.” Jesse sat in the nearest chair, a comfortable gold leather recliner.
“So, wait,” Chloe said. “Smitty, you know Dad, Mr. Crumbly,Jesse, and me? Did you know we knew each other?” She pointed to Jesse, then to herself.
“I wondered.”
“How did you wonder?”
