And she was right.

We probably wouldn’t have.

Except that as she crossed the doorway, a giant red shoe swung across the opening and smacked her right in the face. She tumbled backward and fell on her backside, her hands cradling her nose.

Olga stepped into the doorway and stared down at Madison.

Then she looked at us and held up her shoe. “I knew these would come in handy one day.”

FORTY FOUR

“She stayed another night?” I said to Jake as we stood in the hallway outside the high school theater. “Wow. Or did her flight get canceled?”

Jake shook his head. “No clue. Didn’t even know she was gonna be here. Again.”

It was the following night and the play had just finished. Stella Gardner was off to the side, her phone pressed to her ear, deep in conversation.

“She didn’t tell you last night that she was staying longer?” I asked.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “The only thing we talked about after it was over was your disappearance. You know. Like the rest of the audience.”

After Olga conked Madison in the face, Amanda offered up her cell phone, which did, in fact, have service. I called the Moose River PD and Officer Ted showed up twenty minutes later with several other officers. As I explained to him what I’d learned and why I was there, he kept looking around the room like he’d entered some sort of fun house that didn’t make a whole lot of sense. When Olga finally offered to drive me home, Joanne Claussen and Madison Bandersand were in handcuffs, sitting on the bed, and Amanda Pendleton was pacing back and forth, anxiously awaiting the arrival of her family. I didn’t know what was going to happen to any of them and I didn’t feel the need to stick around to find out.

“I’m sorry,” I told him for what felt like the tenth time. “I didn’t know what was going on. And you were too paralyzed by clown fear to be any help at all.”

“I was not paralyzed.”

I stared at him.

“Okay, maybe I was a little paralyzed,” he admitted. “But still.”

“We heard you saved the day,” a shrill voice said behind us.

We both turned. Thornton and Babette were both standing there, Thornton scrolling away on his phone and Babette trying to keep an enormous pink bag from slipping off her shoulder.

“We heard you’re a real live hero,” she said, pushing a smile onto her face, as if it were the most excruciating thing she’d ever done.

“I’m not a hero,” I said. “At all.”

“Right,” she said. “Well, I’m just glad that the danger is over. Our poor children.”

“Yes,” I said, trying hard to keep my eyes from rolling on their own accord. “The danger.”

“The real hero was Grace,” Jake said. “Thank goodness she’d memorized Snow White’s role.”

With Madison in police custody, there’d been some discussion about Amanda Pendleton jumping back into the role. But the parent board for the theater – because, apparently, there was one – held an emergency meeting and decided that that wasn’t feasible or fair.

So they’d held an emergency rehearsal earlier in the morning and they’d turned to the one kid who knew all of Snow White’s lines.

Grace.

They’d found a costume and a wig and the show went on with a much shorter Snow White.

Thornton looked up from his phone and glanced at Babette. “The guy from the feed store just emailed. Says he needs to talk to us about rescheduling the gig.”

Babette frowned. “Oh my God! Did you tell him that’s impossible? That we’ve already sent out the invites? That I’ve scheduled an extra voice lesson?”

“Uh. No.”

She punched him in the arm. “Call him right now, Thornton! Right this instant!”

They shuffled away so Thornton could call the feed store.

“They are truly...one of a kind,” Jake said.

I started to say something, but stopped when I saw Eleanor Bandersand headed our way. A spike of fear stabbed me in the stomach, wondering if she was going to try and ban me even though the production was now over. Or yell at me for what had happened with Madison. Her black pants were nearly up to her neck, a long sleeve purple blouse with silver sparkles tucked into the waistband. Her chin was lifted in the air and her makeup appeared to have been applied with a roller and a spray gun.

“Daisy,” she said. “Good evening.”

“Hello, Eleanor,” I said, my entire body tense. “I’m not sure if you’ve met my husband. This is Jake.”

“Ah, yes,” she said, nodding. “I believe I’ve seen you around. A pleasure, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” Jake said. “I’m sure.”

“Daisy, I hear you played a large part in locating Amanda Pendleton,” she said, moving her imperious gaze toward me. “I think we all owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“Oh,” I said, surprised. “Well, I don’t know. I’m just glad she’s okay.”

“Yes, yes,” she said. “I’m not sure what this nonsense is with Madison, but I feel confident we’ll get it straightened out soon. And as for Joanne, I hope she’s prepared to deal with the consequences.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe the nerve of that woman trying to steal from me!”

Before Officer Ted arrived at the farm, Joanne explained to me that Madison had witnessed her using a computer at the school to pay her electric bill. Madison recognized the theater credit card and put together what she was doing. Joanne knew it was going to come back to haunt her and it did the day they’d run into each other at Amanda’s home. So Joanne wasn’t denying her role in the whole thing. I wasn’t sure what the consequences were going to be, but I was fairly certain Joanne wasn’t prepared to deal with anything.

Madison, though, was apparently sticking to her denial. Eleanor may have been confident, but I wasn’t sure the “nonsense” with Madison would get straightened out anytime soon.

“Your daughter did...a nice job tonight,” she said. She sounded about as excited as praising a dentist for a root canal. “Given the short notice.”

“Thank you,” I said. “She was excited and happy she could step in.”

Eleanor pursed her lips, then gave a begrudging nod. “Yes, I suppose she was. It was the right decision to let her play the role this evening.”

I had no doubt that Eleanor hadn’t exactly pushed for Grace to take over the Snow White role, but I also didn’t doubt that there were many other options for her to consider.

“Anyway, I have other people I must greet,” she said. “But I did just want to pass along our thanks. Our theater family comes first, and your daughter proved to be a valuable member tonight.”

She smiled at each of us and continued on our way.

“Well, that was unexpected,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Jake said. “I fully expected her pants to be pulled all the way over her head.”

I stifled a giggle and elbowed him in the stomach.

“And I’m about ready to pull that kid’s pants over his head,” he muttered, nodding down the hallway.

I looked in that direction and saw Emily and Andy leaning against the wall, talking. Andy was half-turned, his dark hair obscuring his face. He wore dark jeans and a gray thermal. His jacket, a plaid hoodie, was draped over Emily’s shoulders. And Emily was laughing. She was clearly in like with Andy.

“Hey,” I said. “He came to her sisters’ play. That was nice of him.”

“I should offer him a ride home,” Jake said. “He can ride on top of the van.”

“It’s like fifteen degrees out.”

Winter had decided not to wait for November. An inch of snow had fallen that morning and the kids had squealed at the winter wonderland that awaited them when they woke up. I didn’t remind them that this would be their view for the next seven months.

“Exactly,” Jake replied with a glare.

“Stop,” I said. “He’s a nice kid. Save your anger for when she brings home a not-nice boy.”

“She’s going to bring home a not-nice boy?” he asked, his glare morphing into something more sinister. “When? Who?”