Faith scooted into the room. “I am.” Her voice conveyed warmth and assurance. She wore a pressed cotton sheath that perfectly fit her petite figure, her bare arms and legs were toned and tanned, and her sandals looked both comfortable and stylish. She scrutinized the crowd, observing people’s reactions and interactions exactly as Elle expected an acting coach would do. Elle thought, also, that Faith’s gaze lingered on her a moment longer than on anyone else, and that caused a twinge of discomfort.

Did Faith recognize her? Was she going to see pieces of herself, bewildered by her loss of memory, in Clarice’s next role? Or, Elle wondered, was she hypersensitive about every observer?

“All my people are here and safe,” Clarice proclaimed. “We’re protected. I’m blessed.”

Faith put her arm around Clarice. “You’re the talent. We will take extra special care of you.”

Gregoire was quick to add his bit. “Besides, Clarice, worrying could cause wrinkles.”

“Can’t have that,” Clarice muttered.

Sarcha chortled and poked at Gregoire. “We’re supposed to be her support team, not the team that causes wrinkles by warning her about wrinkles.”

Gregoire scowled.

The small crowd was so intent on the Hollywood drama they failed to notice the white Mercedes that sped down the street and parked in front of the restaurant. But they couldn’t miss Angelica Lindholm as she burst through the door. Her hair was mussed, and her white jacket was askew. Her gaze zeroed in on the people huddled at the back of the restaurant. She gasped and spoke. “A gunshot? There was a gunshot?”

35

“YES, MRS. LINDHOLM, and we don’t know if the shooter is still out there, so if you’d move away from the window...” Señor Alfonso said.

“Here? In Gothic?” Angelica seemed frozen in place, her hand on her heaving chest. “I thought we were safe here.”

“Mrs. Lindholm?” Ludwig started toward her.

The movement seemed to wake Angelica from her trance. “Of course. I simply... When I heard them saying there had been shots fired in town, I was naturally horrified! It was a mistake, wasn’t it? No one actually was... Madame Rune!” She hurried toward her. “You were hit! But of course not with a bullet or it would be more than Band-Aids...” She was babbling.

Glances were exchanged.

Elle thought no one had ever seen Angelica Lindholm so discombobulated. Only she had, when she had dropped those Cheery Freezes.

“Where were you? In your upstairs room? Oh, no! The glass must have made a terrible mess... Not that that matters as long as you’re alive. Although it will be difficult to clean up. Consult my team. They know how to clean everything. Was there anyone with you?” Angelica seemed to hang on a breathless hook.

When Adam said, “Elle and I were with Rune,” Angelica’s knees trembled.

Ludwig thrust a chair under her.