A Town Called Valentine(87)

“Or those other guys were simply the friends he hung out with.”

“I know, I know. And eventually I’ll ask the questions I need to. But today . . . I just want to see them, see if I get some kind of sense or intuition.”

“And get close enough to see their eyes.”

Emily sighed. “That’ll be fun. And I’d feel stupid hanging out alone, waiting for a glimpse. That’s where you come in. You’re going to show me the sights.”

“Like the hardware store?” she asked doubtfully.

“No, we’ll start with the Royal Theater, then maybe the Sweetheart Inn.”

“So tell me names,” Brooke said, leaning forward with interest.

“Cathy Fletcher and Doug Thalberg suggested them. The first is Steve Keppel, building and grounds supervisor at the Royal Theater.”

Brooke frowned. “Keppel . . . He has twin daughters a couple years younger than me, and a son younger than that, maybe still a teenager. He’s divorced.”

“Okay. At least when I get around to questions, I won’t be upsetting his wife.” Three kids—were they her siblings? It seemed unreal.

“Who’s the next suspect?”

“Joe Sweet.”

Brooke whistled, eyebrows raised. “Not divorced—pretty happily married, or so it’s always seemed. He’s part of a very big, very powerful family in this valley. Several sons in their twenties and a teenage daughter.”

More potential siblings, Emily thought, feeling a little daunted. What was she getting into? How many people would be affected? Maybe she should call the whole thing off.

“Stop it right there,” Brooke said sternly. “I can read your face so easily. This isn’t your fault. And they would want to know the truth.”

“Even if it disrupted their lives?”

“It’s not like you’re twelve years old looking for a place to live,” she said patiently. “You just want to know your father. And these guys—they’re good men. They’d want to know you.”

Emily took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay, okay, I’m not backing down. Let me get changed, and we’ll take a walk to the theater.”

“Wear your rain boots and carry an umbrella,” Brooke said glumly.

The Royal Theater had been built when the town was in the middle of the silver boom in the late nineteenth century. The detailed décor had been gilded until it shone, all against a red-and-cream background, and the town had certainly kept up repairs. Emily was so busy gawking at the elaborately painted ceiling of the lobby, with cupids smiling down from heavenly clouds, that she almost forgot why she was there.

“I don’t see him,” Brooke said as she surreptitiously scanned the room.

About a dozen other people lingered in the lobby, looking at the giant framed posters that represented the movies being shown in the upcoming romantic-comedies film festival, as well as the newly released movies.

“Can we just wait?” Emily asked. “I’m a tourist, after all.”

“There’s usually a tour every morning and afternoon during the season. Let’s check the schedule.”

It was hung next to the box-office window, and the young woman inside smiled at them.

“Can I help you, Brooke?” she said through the glass separating them.

“No thanks, Naomi, my friend might be taking the tour today.”

“It starts in another hour.” The chubby blonde smiled at Emily.

“Thanks!” Emily smiled and stepped away, then whispered to Brooke. “You’re as bad as your brother, knowing everyone in town.”

“Sometimes it’s bad—but sometimes it’s good.” She turned back to the box office. “Hey, Naomi, any repairs going on today, or can we take a look at the stage while we wait?”

Emily held her breath.

“Go on in,” Naomi said, popping a quick bubble of gum. “The crew is doing some seat repairs, but that shouldn’t bother you.”

“And we won’t bother them,” Brooke responded brightly.

She led Emily through the lobby, past many curtain-framed double doors that were stationed around a long, curved hall. Every so often, wide, carpeted staircases led up to what must be the balcony.

“Maybe we should go up and peer down,” Emily suggested.

“Coward.” Brooke kept walking until she reached an open door. Inside, they passed beneath the overshadowing balcony, and the theater soared up to a high ceiling, swirls painted in gold just like the lobby. Several private boxes were stacked atop each other along the side walls. Down the long aisle, a wide, empty stage held several boxes and pieces of equipment along the edge. Four men were scattered through the auditorium, attending to seats that were in various stages of repair.