my own business. And I went back inside and…there was nothing there.”
“Nothing there meaning no lights?”
“Nothing there meaning no words painted on the wall. And no lights either.”
Helga frowned. “I’m not going to ask if you’re sure because, duh, I know you are, but…wow. That is concerning. I want to see it.”
“I figured you would. I’ve come up with several possible explanations—that’s pretty much all I’ve been thinking about since yesterday,” Vivien confessed.
“Have you been back there since?”
Pursing her lips, feeling like a coward, Vivien shook her head. “No. I had some work to do—other work; you know I’m keeping a bunch of my clients, and I didn’t even check my email on Monday when I was driving here, which is why Louise has her panties in a twist—and so I haven’t been back inside the theater. I had a good excuse,” she added with a self-deprecating smile.
Helga nodded sagely. “All right. I’ll go with you after dinner. It’ll still be light till at least eight thirty.”
“I’m not worried about the dark,” Vivien replied. “This all happened yesterday morning. And that’s not all of it.” She sighed and poked at the half a cracker that was left over from the Brie appetizer.
Her friend watched her carefully but said nothing.
Vivien sighed. Ugh. “So there was a guy running by who happened to see me come bursting out of the theater, rush to my car, and then sit in it, and when he was coming back around from the end of the street, he saw me going back in through the side door. So he came over to see if everything was okay.”
“A creeper?” Helga’s mouth went flat.
Vivien had to shake her head, though she was sorely tempted not to. “No. It turns out…it was Jake.”
Helga’s hazel eyes were uncomprehending, then confused, then hesitant. “Jake…? As in your ex, Jake, the supreme, cheating asshole—from when you were at NYU?” She squinted and tilted her head. “Here in Wicks Hollow?”
“Yup. What’re the chances?” Vivien said, then she started to get annoyed. “What are the freaking chances that not only would my college boyfriend, the one who—well, a guy I was pretty damned serious about—that he would not only be here in Wicks Hollow, now, but be running past right after I had the freakiest experience of my life?”
Helga was shaking her head. “Girl, you’ve got some really bad luck. Some effed-up juju.”
“I know, right? How? How does this happen?”
“So…what happened? Did you talk to him? Was he civil? Were you civil?”
“He was… Well, he was Jake. But older. Just as cocky.” Just as hot. “Civil, I guess, but cocky.”
“What is he doing here?” Helga’s question was obviously rhetorical, but unfortunately, Vivien had the answer.
“Here’s the best part,” she said in defeat. “I’m pretty sure Ricky—Juanita’s friend who’s going to be in the show—is Jake’s dad.”
“No. Way.”
“Yeah.”
“How?”
“Jake’s actual name is Elwood DeRiccio. Ricky’s name is Fabrizio DeRiccio. Apparently the family has a problem giving their sons normal-sounding names.”
“Well, I kind of like Fabrizio—”
Vivien nearly snarled at Helga, who lifted her glass to drink quickly—probably to hide a smirk. “That’s not helping.”
“Elwood? But you call him Jake? I don’t— Oh, I do get it.” Helga chuckled. “Elwood and Jake Blues—the Blues Brothers. Yeah, if I had to pick a name, it would be Jake instead of Elwood. ‘We’re on a mission from God!’” She giggled a little. Apparently, the wine was going to her head. It was a good thing Helga could walk home, or she’d be the one texting for a ride from a cop friend.
“I guess they started calling him Jake in middle school when he unequivocally told his friends and parents he wouldn’t answer to Elwood. I can’t blame him. Can you imagine the nicknames they would have come up with in middle school?”
“Well, at least his friends knew their pop culture,” Helga said, still smirking behind her glass.
“You’re still not helping.”
“Right.” Helga snapped her expression back into a sober one. “So your Jake—the infamous lying, cheating dickwad—is Ricky’s son,” Helga mused aloud. “Bummer. He’s really hot. And—because I’m not sexist or overly preoccupied with looks—he also seems like a nice, solid guy. I’ve met him a few times, just briefly. Once there was a little car crash in town and he happened to be nearby. He was really calming, helping a pregnant woman who was involved in the accident—”
“He’s a doctor. He’s supposed to do that kind of stuff,” Vivien growled. Then sighed. She was an adult. She could be more