Katherine Page - The Body in the Cast

“I can't say that I've ever been there, but your logic makes a certain amount of sense. Tell me where to go”

Webb's was several turns off the main road. It had originally started as a stand adjacent to the Webb farm and was open only during the summer months, but after it was discovered by Boston magazine and listed in several guidebooks, business increased to the point where the Webbs built a year-round structure and expanded the menu to include lunch offerings. The main emphasis remained on the ice cream with its sinfully high butterfat content. Webb's was not the place for frozen yogurt aficionados.

Faith and Sully were rewarded by the sight of Evelyn's shiny red sports car, sprawled across two spots in the parking lot.

“She's here!" Faith wanted to leap from the car and drag the woman out, but she restrained herself and told the detective her plan. He gave her a look that could have been approval and stayed in the car while she went in the door.

There was nothing cute about the inside of Webb's, just simple booths, a long counter, and a calendar from a feed company on the whitewashed walls kept scrupulously clean by Mrs. Webb. The one concession to decor was red calico curtains.

Evelyn was in a booth at the rear. Faith recognized the back of her sweater. The star's hair was covered by a large kerchief, and when Faith got closer to the table, she could see that Evelyn was wearing dark glasses. Whether the disguise had worked, or because the late-afternoon clientele, busy spoiling their appetites for dinner, had decided to ignore her in their own inimitable New England way, Evelyn was being left strictly alone. Alone except for the wreckage of several of the Webb's gigantic ice cream specialties. These confections carried names such as Danny's Dairy Delight and Myrtle's Mounds of Mocha—in honor of the cows or the children, Faith had never asked. Evelyn was attacking Bessie's Chocolate Dream—a bowl of several hefty scoops of chocolate ice cream with hot fudge, marshmallow topping, whipped cream, nuts, chocolate chips, and several cherries.

Faith sat down opposite her. Sully walked in the door, said something to the cashier, and casually strolled to a booth across the aisle.

Evelyn looked up from her ice cream. For a moment, she seemed not to recognize Faith, then hissed at her,

“What the hell are you doing here? Can't you leave me alone!"

“I thought we might talk about these." Faith held the slide box up, then quickly returned it to her pocket. Evelyn pulled off her glasses.

“Give those to me! They're mine!" Her voice was rising. "You took them from my trailer!"

“And you took them from the storeroom after you killed the photographer, Alden Spaulding. His name is on the box, not yours," Faith said calmly.

Evelyn stood up and reached for Faith across the table, sending the sticky contents of Bessie's Dream flying all over Faith's jacket, much to the sleuth's annoyance.

“Give me those slides, you bitch, or I'll kill you, too!”

Detective Sullivan pulled Ms. O'Clair away from Faith, thereby saving her face from possible damage. "You have the right ..." he intoned.

Faith was very thankful. She was thankful that Dunne had had Sully follow her. She was thankful Evelyn O'Clair's talonlike fingernails hadn't reached their target. And she was thankful to be in her own house later that night with some of the cast of characters sitting around the Fairchilds' big kitchen table devouring Chinese takeout.

It wasn't a chicken feet crowd or even a clams in black bean sauce one. What wasn't deep-fried or covered with red dye number something sweet-and-sour sauce was being rolled up in mu shu pancakes. And, like other similar establishments in the Boston area, far from their roots in Canton, the restaurant supplied bread along with rice. There were some six-packs inthe middle of the table and a few bottles of Coke. It lacked the finesse of a Have Faith affair, but even the lady herself agreed, it was a banquet.

“Shove some more of those shrimp over to this side, Faith, and stop showing off with your chopsticks," Charley demanded. He'd placed the order and was busy mopping up some sauce on his plate with a hunk of good old familiar white bread.

It was absolutely lovely to bask in warmth created by friendship and an almost-adequate heating system. Faith had taken a shower as soon as she'd returned home, yet it wasn't until the food arrived that the smell of smoke finally left her nostrils. She was none the worse for the experience except for some vivid, paralyzing moments of anxious "what if's." She doubted, though, that her suede jacket from Barney's would ever be the same again. Evelyn's damage had been far-reaching.

Cornelia was fine, too. However, to be on the safe side, she was being held overnight for observation at Emerson Hospital, where she'd been taken when the fire department arrived. The cast and crew of A had managed to contain the fire and keep the RV from blowing up, but they had not put the blaze out. There was plenty for Aleford's finest to do. Greg Bradley had gone with Cornelia to the hospital and somehow had ended up in the Fairchilds' kitchen, entering with Charley.

Pix and her husband, Sam, had rushed over as soon as they heard. Pix had refused to leave Faith's side for a moment, talking to her through the bathroom door as she showered, abandoning the watch only to call Niki with the news. Niki was at the door twenty minutes later with some of the day's leftovers. Plates of cookies, doughnuts, and a large pan of pear crisp sat on the counter—the next course. When Greg had walked in, Faith had steered him next to her assistant. No obvious tattoos and with a job—Niki wouldn't be bringing him home for dinner, at least not yet.

Dunne had arrived at Webb's shortly after Sully had read Evelyn her rights and Faith had immediately given the slides to him with a brief description of what was in the box. Ice cream melted in dishes as one and all watched the star being led away, screaming for her lawyer and Max.

“I didn't make it up to get her to confess. Spaulding's name was on the box. It would have been a good idea, except don't they call that entrapment? Anyway, I realized the name might be on it when Sully and I were driving to Webb's. There was no way Evelyn could claim they were hers. What did she say at headquarters?" Faith asked eagerly.

Dunne leaned back in his chair, smiling expansively. It was the end of a case, two cases really. Good food—and it was his turn to speak.

“She got in the car and shut her mouth tight. I didn't expect to hear another peep out of her, but after we'd gone a few miles, she suddenly went ballistic and wanted to know what was going to happen to her car. Didn't want it left out overnight. Her car! She's killed two people and she's upset about a piece of machinery. Anyway, I told her someone would drive it to headquarters and that quieted her down. Then she said that when we were through with her, someone could just drive her back and she'd pick it up! I mean, the woman had no concept that she was in any more than slap-onthe-wrist trouble.

“I told her that could be a long time and she wentnuts. This is not someone who generally hears the word no.”

Faith could well imagine.

“Then she gets all high-and-mighty. Did we know who she was? What she had accomplished? She even brings up the Oscar. I point out that she may be facing additional charges of assault with said prize and she acts as if she hasn't heard me. Wants to know if anyone in the car has one.”

The entire table cracked up.

“It wasn't the kind of question that expects an answer."

“Rhetorical," Faith supplied.

“Thank you, and to think I once took freshman English. Anyway, after this, we couldn't shut her up if we'd wanted to. I started taking notes. I reminded her about her lawyer, but now she wasn't interested in waiting for him and used some extremely coarse language to describe what she thought of the breed. Sorry, Sam.”