“I have no idea who it might be,” Vivien replied. “I’ve been here less than a week—”
“But you did live here before,” Jake reminded her.
She shrugged. “More than a decade ago. Who’s going to carry a grudge that…long.” She felt her face heat up as Jake lifted a brow.
Fine. He had a point. Butshehadn’t known the whole story about what happened back at NYU anyway. (And whose fault was that?asked her conscience—or maybe it was Liv. Her twin had gotten pretty snarky over the years.)
“Besides, I didn’t make any enemies back in high school,” Vivien went on. “I just did my thing—I’d had enough of being in the spotlight, trust me.”
Helga shifted on her feet. Her butter-gold hair was pulled back into a professional-looking twist, and her uniform was, as always, spotless. However, there were pale shadows under her eyes, suggesting she hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. “Well, that might be your perspective, VL, but I hate to say it…there were people who didn’t like you. And some who activelydisliked you.”
Even so many years later, that announcement was enough to make Vivien’s stomach drop. “Like who? Why? And even if they did, like I said, it was so long ago—who would hold a grudge that long over nothing? It had to be nothing, because I never had any conflict with anyone. I just kept my head down and tried to be unnoticed. I didn’t want people asking about Liv, or bugging me about being a star, and I definitely didn’t want friends just because they thought I was something—I don’t know—special?”
“I get it,” said Helga. “But unfortunately, that keep-to-yourself bit put some people off because they thoughtyouthought you were too good for them.” She shrugged and held up her hands when Vivien started to reply. “I don’t agree, never did. I’m just the messenger.”
“Well, like who?” Now Vivien had to know, and her stomach felt all tight and icky again. Could that be why someone was messing with her? Because of some imaginedhigh schoolslight?
“Well, there was Melody Carlson, of course,” Helga said, causing Vivien to roll her eyes, because that one she knew about. “She was always a little difficult anyway—but her mother left them when she was in kindergarten, I think, so…” she added without looking at Vivien. “And Susie Parminster—now Susie Wallaby—who was friends with Melody, and sosheobviously thought you were a bitch, just by osmosis. I think Bella Mihalek—now Pohlson—was also one of the, uh, Mean Girls, so to speak—”
“Bella? That’s my realtor—the one who sold me the theater!” Vivien exclaimed. “So she thought I was a bitch back then, did she? Well, she sure was happy enough to have my business when I took this freaking albatross off her hands.” She looked around at the theater, suddenly annoyed. Hadn’t Bella, Susie, and Melody just shown up yesterday and acted like they were old friends?
What had she ever done to cause those girls to dislike her? It wasn’t her fault she’d been sort of famous—for about a minute.
Helga looked uncomfortable, and Vivien spared a moment of sympathy for her. It might be a little awkward for her friend to share this—after all, it sounded like Helga was at least sort of friends with the “Mean Girls,” as she’d called them. At the very least, Helga was a cop in town and had to treat everyone equally and with respect.
“If she was your realtor, Bella would have known when you got the keys to the place,” Jake said. “Could be relevant to the timing of some of these incidents. And, I hate to mention it, but she also would have access to the place.”
“She seemed just fine—completely professional and really sweet and friendly during all of our interactions. She even mentioned looking up the Savage Sisters Tonys performance on YouTube so she could show her daughters,” Vivien said, wondering if everyone else in town was pretending to be nice to her—all the contractors she was hiring, the volunteers, and so on—but really had it out for her instead.
She felt her shoulders hunch, and her lungs began to feel as if they weren’t working right, like they did when an anxiety attack was coming on.
“Vivien,” Helga said in a sharpish voice probably meant to snap her out of the spiral into anxiety. “Don’t let it get to you. It was fifteen years ago, and as you said—there was nothing to any of it. I’m sure everyone has moved on. But,” she added with a meaningful look at Joe Cap, “it’s worth maybe taking a look at the vehicles belonging to certain people. Just so they can be eliminated.”
Vivien sighed. “You’re probably right.” She silently did her special breathing (in-two-three-four…) and said, “Well, were there any others? Did Baxter James hate me back then too?”
“No, he didn’t,” Vivien said immediately. “You know how shy he was back then, but he never said one bad thing about you, ever. Now, Drew Jeffreys had his nuts in a wad because you wouldn’t go to the Homecoming Dance with him, but I’m pretty sure he got over that pretty quick, because he and Bella got all hot and heavy about a week later. And then Lucas Hebden said you were a frigid bitch—”
“That’s because I wouldn’t let him put his hand up my shirt after we went to the movies,” Vivien replied tartly. “Jerk. Oh, but I did let Jesse Prime get to third base.” She couldn’t hold back a smile at the memory of steaming up his old red Fiero. That had been one hell of a tight squeeze, but worth every cramp and bruise. “He was reallyprime.”
“That was after he dumped Yvonne Gesslinger to go out with you,” said Helga with a grin. “And she got back at him by egging his car.”
“Oh, man, he loved that car. Geez, how do you remember all this stuff?” Vivien said. “High school is pretty much a blur for me.”
Helga shrugged. “I’ve lived here all my life, see most of these people regularly, and I was a spectator—even back then, I was practicing to be a cop,” she added with a grin. “A trained observer, you know?”
“I just can’t imagine any of those people still holding a grudge,” Vivien said, unable to keep the tightness from her voice. “It’s just…”
“Well, now,” said Joe Cap, taking his time getting the words out, as was his habit, “let’s just step back a minute, Ms. Savage, and see if you can think of any other reason—besides an old grudge—someone might want to mess things up for you. Ex-husband, boyfriend, anyone like that?”
Vivien felt Jake’s attention shift casually to her as she replied, “Never married, so no, and I’ve been casually seeing someone back on the East Coast but—”
“Roger Hatchard’s son,” Helga said. “He’s going to be in the new show Vivien’s doing—Roger, not the son.” When her friend gave her an irked look, Helga went on, “Details are important, VL. You never know where there might be a connection.”
“Daniel Hatchard is not going to fly here from Hartford to mess up the show his father is going to cameo in,” Vivien said in frustration. “It not only wouldn’t make sense—he was the one who suggested Roger should do the play—but he’s just too busy to drop everything and come here. And he would have no reason to do so—we only went out a few times.”
“All right, then,” said Joe Cap. “But it wouldn’t hurt to check in and see whether either of them have left town.” He squinted at Vivien. “Roger Hatchard? The center for the Pistons?”
“Yes.”
