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“Sure, sure.” Juggling his water bottle in one hand, Luke snagged one of the folding chairs and placed it near Bianca.
“Let me help,” Michelle said and adjusted the chair.
“And you are—?” Sphinx glanced at her, then grinned. “The sister?”
“Stepmom,” Michelle simpered, extending her hand. She couldn’t help but gush. “I can’t tell you what a pleasure this is, Mr. Sphinx, I am such a fan!”
“Thanks.” They exchanged glances.
“I adore Tarnished Stars. It’s brilliant!” Michelle breathed, and Lucky actually shot her a slightly irritated glance.
Sphinx’s lips twitched, bemused, and Pescoli fought the urge to roll her eyes.
“Oh, let me introduce you all!” Carlton, ever energetic, stepped between Michelle and Barclay as Luke’s wife reluctantly, it seemed, let go of the tall man’s fingers. He made hasty introductions among the producer, Bianca, and what must have appeared to be her entourage, adding at the end, “And this is Fiona Carpenter, Mr. Sphinx’s assistant.”
“Executive assistant,” she corrected. Fiona was compact and petite and radiated competence. Her brown hair was cut short and highlighted with thin streaks of red, and her outfit was composed of a gray long-sleeved T-shirt, tunic length, and black leggings that tucked into her boots. She didn’t smile, wore no visible lipstick, just a sheer gloss, and appeared to be all business.
Sphinx was sharp, remembered everyone’s name and said to Pescoli, “You’re the cop, right? A homicide detective?”
“Yes. With the Pinewood County Sheriff’s Department.”
“Perfect,” he said, nodding to himself.
She didn’t really see how her career path could be considered “perfect” by anyone’s standards, much less a Hollywood or Seattle producer of different reality shows for cable TV, but what the hell.
Carlton interjected, “As I said before, Bianca’s . . . uncomfortable telling her story to the group, a little shy, so I thought you could speak, Barclay, and then later people could ask Bianca some questions.”
“How about this?” Sphinx asked, as if the idea just occurred to him. “What about if I ask Bianca questions on stage, kind of a personal interview in front of the group, and then I could say a little bit about her responses.” His eyes, behind the round glasses, found Bianca’s. “You would only have to answer with a word or two. I read your story in the papers and online from all of the posts from your friends, so I have a pretty good idea what happened. That way it’s a little more intimate, not so nerve-wracking.”
Bianca’s eyebrows drew together. “I’m not shy.”
“All the better,” Sphinx said. “We’ll set up as an interview and you can expound to your heart’s content.” Then he looked directly at Carlton. “Set it up on the stage. Just that way. Now.” He didn’t smile, didn’t frown, just gave the order, as if he was used to barking out a command and expecting people to scramble to do his bidding.
“Good. Sure. Sounds great.” Carlton was starting toward the stage in the other room.
“Oh, and Jaffe—?”
“Jeffe,” Carlton corrected quickly.
“Yeah, maybe another chair. I’d like Mom to join us.” He swung his gaze to Pescoli, flashing his most sincere grin. “I understand you’re involved in a murder case as well. That your daughter found the body of a classmate while running from Sasquatch.”
“I am investigating a murder and yes, Bianca did find the victim, but there was no Big Foot, and I’m not getting on the stage to discuss an ongoing investigation.” To Carlton Jeffe, she called, “You won’t be needing that extra chair.”
“Oh—okay. I’ll set up now. We’ll be on in five.” With that, he bounded out of the room.
Sphinx pulled a face. “You sure you don’t want to be a part of this? Someone in the crowd might know something that could help you solve this murder. I heard that you’re kind of a rogue cop, that you don’t always play by the rules, that you’d bend them to close a case and bring a killer to justice.”
“I think I’ll just hang with the crowd, stand in the back and watch.”
“Not a believer then?”
“Of Big Foot? No. Definitely not.” From the corner of her eye, she spied Lucky, his face a mask of horror that she was actually standing up to the producer
, and Michelle, too, looked appalled.
Sphinx was unfazed. “You probably know I’m considering a second series, Big Foot Territory: Montana! I think your daughter’s story would be a great pilot. It has all the dramatic elements the audience loves. A pretty girl at a party in the mountains, chased down a mountain by a monster to end up finding a corpse in a stream, a dead girl, a classmate. Her mother is a cop, doesn’t believe her, but together they search for a killer and a rogue Sasquatch who just may or may not be the killer.” He was actually caught up in his own story, talking faster, as if convincing himself as he spoke. “We’d do a reenactment with Bianca. Up at the site where the Big Foot was seen, I think it’s called Reservoir Point? The pilot would start out with a Handycam, shaky, raw, a little like The Blair Witch Project maybe. Because of the murder, it would be two programs, one that ends with the discovery of the body and the next with the aftermath, Big Foot in the shadows.”
Michelle actually clapped and bounced on her heels, like a twelve-year-old spying a teen idol. “I’d watch that! In a heartbeat.”
