JP Beaumont 11 - Failure To Appear (v5.0) by J. A. Jance Page B

Without makeup and out of costume, they were laughing and joking about something that had gone awry during the performance. I kept hoping Daddy Capulet would show up so he and I could exchange pointers on child-rearing practices. But while old man Capulet failed to put in an appearance, Juliet helped herself to a glass of sparkling cider and meandered over toward me, stopping in front of the seat Alex had just vacated.
    Tanya Dunseth was wearing a purple loose-knit cardigan sweater over an electric-blue leotard. On her feet were a pair of bright pink Keds. At first glance, I would have thought she had come straight from a high school cheerleading session.
    “Is this seat taken?” she asked.
    “No, be my guest.”
    She smiled back, then joined me on the window seat, easing herself down and folding both legs gracefully under her, settling into one of those unnatural and highly suspect lotus positions. Just looking at her made my knees hurt.
    For a moment, I was unsure what to do. Kelly had been most insistent about wanting to introduce the two of us, but that was before we had our little spat, before Kelly burst into tears. Still, though, Tanya was sitting there next to me. They were friends. My daughter cared for her daughter. It was dumb to sit side by side there and pretend ignorance.
    “Miss Dunseth?” I said tentatively, unsure of her reaction.
    Smiling and still wisecracking with Romeo across the roomful of people, she turned from him to me. “Yes?”
    “You don’t know me, but I’m J.P. Beaumont, Kelly’s father.”
    Looking directly into her face, I could see that she was older than I’d thought. Somewhere in her mid-twenties, she had striking green eyes, high cheekbones, and a sprinkling of freckles that hadn’t shown up under her stage makeup. As soon as she looked at me, her smile disappeared. An air of implacable seriousness settled over her fine features.
    “I knew you stopped by today,” she said. “I couldn’t tell if Kelly was happy to see you or not.”
    So much for standing around exchanging inconsequential pleasantries. Tanya Dunseth believed in going for the gut.
    “That’s funny,” I returned with a short laugh. “Neither could I.”
    She regarded me gravely. “Will you be staying for the wedding?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Well, my daughter, Amber, is going to be both flower girl and ring bearer. It’ll be a fairly non-traditional ceremony.”
    “I’m sure,” I said.
    “Did you meet Jeremy? He’s really crazy about Kelly. They’re both very lucky.”
    Almost unconsciously, I found myself glancing at Tanya’s left hand, where there was no wedding ring and no visible indication of one, either. I didn’t know I was being so painfully obvious until she called me on it.
    “Don’t bother looking for a ring,” she said curtly. “I was married once, but not now. It didn’t work out. That’s why I know they’re lucky.”
    More people crowded into the room, laughing and talking. The newcomers came straight from the Elizabethan still wearing their warm coats and jackets, some of them carrying blankets. As they edged toward the bar, Monica held up her hand for attention.
    “I know it’s crowded in here,” she said, “so don’t get too comfortable.” In a room too packed for any semblance of comfort, her announcement was greeted with general laughter.
    “We’ll be here only a few minutes longer, just enough to give the cast time to change out of their costumes and put away props. I’m so glad you were all able to be here tonight, and I’m looking forward to giving you a behind-the-scenes look at your arts contributions in action.”
    She continued with a canned speech, reeling off numbers about goals set and achieved. While she droned on, the outside door opened again. This time only two people came in—Guy and Daphne Lewis, Guy wearing his red down jacket and Daphne in one of those lush Icelandic wool sweaters. Faced with the jam of people inside the room, they paused