I tried calling Sterling right after we found out that the mayor’s children had been kidnapped, but his phone was off. He must’ve been busy working on the case. I wanted to tell him about what I had seen from the stage, even if it wasn’t much to go on. I left a couple of messages saying that I wanted to meet, but I fell asleep before he called back and left a message saying that he would be working all night.
I wanted to visit Sterling at the office first thing in the morning. As I walked out the door, Rod, my manager, called. I sighed, but I answered it anyway. At least it was something to do as I walked to the station, and I had been avoiding his calls for the past couple of days.
“Well, well, well,” he said. “I thought you were dead.”
“Is that why they have a day named after me now?” I joked.
“You’re very impressed with yourself these days, aren’t you?”
“Aren’t I always?”
“Are you really still stuck in that little nowhere town?” Rod yawned.
He was one of the coolest managers around, having been a rock star himself in his twenties. He quit around my age though, claiming that he did so in order to save his own life. Any more of the rock and roll lifestyle and he would’ve been dead face down in a toilet bowl. Knowing how he lived now at the age of fifty-eight, I believed him.
“Yes,” I replied. “Things were pretty calm around here until these children got kidnapped.”
“Children, yeah, what a shame.” Rod yawned again, not sounding the least bit interested. He was a New Yorker, after all. “Tell me, what’s the deal with this Snowman Festival anyway?”
“What do you mean?”
“What’s there to celebrate? Is Santa Claus, Cupid and the Easter Bunny not enough for you people?”
I chuckled. “Well, it’s based on this Hartfield legend. Our founder, Henry Hartfield was said to have been guided to this town by a snowman after he wandered off from a group of explorers.”
“What? You mean he met a man covered in snow?”
“No. A real snowman, a man made completely out of snow. I know it sounds ridiculous, but that’s how the story goes. It was over a hundred years ago, and Henry Hartfield was rumored to be addicted to opium, so it’s probably a bunch of crap.”
Rod exploded into laughter. “Of all the ridiculous stories I’ve heard in the world, I have to live until I have one foot in the grave to hear about a town founded by a magical snowman?”
“This is why I don’t go around telling people this story,” I said. “January twenty-first is Henry Hartfield’s birthday, but it has always been Snowman Day by default. Kind of like Santa overshadowing Jesus.”
“Or the Easter bunny overshadowing Jesus, again. That Jesus can’t get a break.”
Rod kept laughing until I could practically hear the tears dripping from his eyes.
“All right, all right, I know you called me for something other than a ridiculous history lesson.”
When the laughing subsided, Rod got down to business. “All the talk shows are calling. So are the journalists. You did the cover shoot for Rolling Stone ages ago but you still haven’t confirmed for the interview. The magazine’s out in February for God’s sake. Work with me here.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve been taking some personal weeks; you know that.”
“Months is more like it. Your record company’s getting annoyed. They’re questioning if you’re doing your promotional duties. It’s not looking good. Oh, and New Woman called. They want you on the cover.”
“Really?” I wrinkled my nose. I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of being on a cover with my tiny boobs pushed all the way to my neck with two pushup bras, and being surrounded by headlines with references to sex and vaginas. Once was enough.
“I know,” said Rod. “I told them no, that you’re all booked up. Which you are. You have two talk show appearances next week.”
“What? I do?”
“Yes, I told you ages ago. Now, you’re booked for a flight to LAX on—”
“I can’t!” I said. “It’s crazy here. As I told you, these children are kidnapped and I have to help solve the case.”
“But, honey, they have detectives for that.”
“I know, but I can help—”
“Darling, you’re more Nancy Sinatra than Nancy Drew. You have a job to fulfill, responsibilities, and my ass on the line.”
“I know, but hopefully I’ll crack the case in a couple of days. I think I only have a couple days anyway before the children are murdered so it’s not like I have a choice.”
“Murdered? That’s tacky.”
“Rod? I have to go now. I’m at the station.”
“Emma—”
I hung up. I had been in a rush earlier to get to the station, but now that I was there, I hesitated.
What if Sterling didn’t want to see me? And did I want to see him? I’d had no contact with Sterling or Nick for over three weeks now, and to tell you the truth, it had been peaceful. I spent all my time with my parents, with Mirabelle, and a couple of girlfriends. We had a few girls’ nights and even a sleepover once and it felt like old times. But I had to face the music sometime; there was no avoiding Sterling. I had to tell him about what I saw on stage. I took a deep breath and pushed the doors open.
