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Peter?”
    “Still at the theater,” said Rose, reaching for a pencil that was stuck through braids that wrapped around her head. She began scribbling on a legal pad in front of her. “He’s adapting the lighting plot for the student prod to coincide with ours.” She finished writing and stuck the pencil back into her hair. “And I think he wanted to stick around for a few minutes to give Mieko some moral support. It’s the first time she’s taught.” She raised one eyebrow at Jeremy.
    Finding him unresponsive, she continued. “You know, I bet if Peter had started going out with Mieko last year instead of Andrea, they would still be together.”
    “Rose, why are you dressed like Heidi this morning?” asked Jeremy.
    “In keeping with the situation, boss. You like it?” Rose turned her head side to side, displaying heavy braids that wrapped her head like strawberry-blond sausages.
    Jeremy just shook his head.
    There was no one in the world more un-Heidi-like than Rose Laughton. At nearly six feet, arms and legs built up from years of aikido training, and a mouth that could burn the ears off a sailor, Rose would never be mistaken for a cute little girl sitting at the feet of her grandfather.
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    Shelley Freydont
    Rose usually had people groveling at her feet, even if she had to wrestle them to the ground to get them there. But she was the best costume mistress in the business and Jeremy had jumped at the chance of hiring her last year.
    Jeremy swung one leg over the bench and straddled it. “So, where are we?”
    “I think things are in pretty good shape, considering,” said Robert.
    “Biddy’s got everything organized. She’s a whiz, Jeremy.” Robert reached for his cup.
    Coffee was the last thing the man needed, thought Lindy. His thin fingers trembled as he took the cup and brought it to his lips. His face was a shade of off-white. Lindy wondered if he was always this nervous or was it because one of his charges had had a fatal accident.
    She felt sorry for him. It was a feeling she hated. Especially when the person was so likable.
    Peter strode through the door carrying a black portfolio. “Sorry.
    Lots of stuff to do.” He sat down and opened the portfolio. Lindy peered over his shoulder at a series of scribbles and geometric shapes that filled the page.
    “There’s coffee in the urn on the counter,” said Robert. “Stays on all day and can get pretty intense by late afternoon, but it’s still pretty fresh now.”
    “Thanks, but I’ve already had my quota for the day. So, where are we?”
    Lindy smiled as she recognized Peter’s echo of Jeremy’s question.
    For two men who had begun their working relationship as dire enemies they had covered a lot of ground toward becoming friends.
    “We expect a full house of parents, friends, and critics for this weekend. Box office is more than good for next week,” said Biddy.
    “Robert has the programs finished; we’ll just have to insert the name of Larry Cleveland’s understudy.” She held up a slick pamphlet with a picture of the entrance to the retreat on the front. “He did a great job, don’t you think?”
    “Chi-Chi did,” said Robert.
    “Chi-Chi,” corrected Biddy. “You’d be amazed at how much work she gets done. She’s in charge of the restaurant and annex. And helps Robert with programming, and takes care of the students, and runs the student dining hall. She’s indefatigable.”
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    Midsummer Murder
    Robert smiled. It animated his pale face and straightened his shoulders.
    Biddy turned toward the costume mistress. “Rose?”
    “All the costumes are out of the trunks and waiting to be fitted.”
    She consulted her notes on the legal pad. “There’s a fitting tomorrow morning. I’m guessing at a few minor alterations. Then I have a costume crew coming in the afternoon to help with the sewing and steaming.”
    Rose leaned forward on her elbows. The others readied themselves for one of her expostulations. “It’s great.