“That bastard!” she screamed. “That absolute bastard! Donna!”

Donna swept in and embraced Mrs. Amberson, mud and all. Scarlett let them have a few minutes of weeping and drama while she ate some chocolates from the minibar.

“So now,” Donna said, when the tears had stopped for a moment, “you understand where I come into this. You conned me out of a job. You had someone cut off all my hair. Yes, I tried to find you. I wanted to know what kind of a complete psycho would do this to me. Wouldn’t you?”

Yes, Scarlett thought to herself. She would. She felt too bad to even look over. She shoved more chocolate in her mouth.

“So you shut the show down,” Mrs. Amberson said.

“No!” Donna replied. “I never meant for that to happen. I work for the New York tourist commission part-time, in the theater section. I have lots of connections. I was just calling around to get more information, to find out more about who was doing this to me. It turns out that the owner of that garage had been cited before. He rents that place out all the time for things it’s not allowed to be used for, because of zoning or fire regulations or something. I accidentally tipped off the wrong people. I came down there to try to give you some warning, but you stormed off.”

“The show,” Scarlett said, glad that they had finally made it to the relevant issue. “We really need to take care of that now, and you guys can talk all you want when it’s done.”

“There’s nothing I can do,” Donna said. “That’s well out of my hands. I’m sorry.”

“O’Hara,” Mrs. Amberson said, her face a muddy mess. “As much as it pains me to say this, I just don’t think we’re going to find a…”

Scarlett held up a silencing hand.

“I already know where,” she said. “The only question is how. This is where the two of you come in…”

FAMILY BONDING

A plan this bold, this ridiculous, required a total rewriting of the rules. This is why Scarlett walked past the Orchid Suite door and went down the hall to the Jazz Suite, where Marlene was engrossed in some show about a high school where everybody sang all their feelings to one another. She dropped down on the couch next to her.

“Listen,” she said, “want to come down the hall and be in a secret conference with Lola, Spencer, and I?”

Marlene gave her a suspicious look.

“What?” she asked.

“Do you want to come down and talk with us?” Scarlett said plainly. “We’re planning something, and we need you.”

This direct approach confused Marlene, and she sat silent for a moment, chewing a cuticle.

“What is it?” she finally asked.

“Spencer’s show is in trouble,” Scarlett said, in a breathtaking show of honesty. “So we have to do the show at the hotel. And if Mom and Dad find out about this, they will have us killed, first individually, and then as a group. I’m asking you to help us pull this off.”