Chapter 8: The Double

The wire landed on Monday at 9:00 on the dot.

Harbor Pines texted me before I'd finished my coffee.

Payment received. Thank you, Ms. Beall. Bed secure.

I sat down on the floor of the Night Heron's dressing room and put my face in my knees.

"Hey," said Tavy, above me.

"I'm fine."

"You're on the floor."

"The floor's fine too."

She sat down next to me in her robe, with her bleached head against the mirror.

Two of the younger dancers hovered in the doorway, pretending not to listen.

"Tell me about Wednesday," I said.

"The Harbor Club, nine o'clock, five thousand dollars, forty minutes."

Tavy shrugged.

"A woman called me with a deposit and a very pretty voice."

"She said it's a party for Miss Sabina Pinckney. A fresh start."

"Sabina has never seen me dance."

"No."

"She has a photograph."

"She does."

"And she's invited me to her fresh start. As Rosamond."

Tavy turned her head slowly.

"Oh, honey," she said. "It's a test."

I had worked it out in Carlisle's shower at dawn, with the water going cold.

If Rosamond sat in a Harbor Club chair at nine o'clock, Starling would be on the stage at nine-fifteen.

If Rosamond slipped out to the powder room, and Starling walked on after, Sabina would know.

If Starling didn't appear at all, Sabina would know something else.

"Either way she has an answer," I said. "I can't be in two places."

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