A Midsummer Night's Scream

hadn’t been something she’d heard at the mystery conference or even knew to ask. Come to think of it, there were suddenly a lot of questions, and she wished she knew someone who could answer them.
    “Are you going to make a lot of money?“ Todd asked. Jane had known one of them would ask her this. She had expected it to be Katie.
    “I have no idea yet. I don’t know if it will be acouple thousand dollars or a lot. My guess is maybe five thousand. Maybe a little more.“
    “But you’ll make more on the one you’re writing now, won’t you?“ Mike asked.
    “Well, I certainly should. That’s the way it’s supposed to work, I understand. But I think you need to write a lot of them, and get lucky on the sales, before you make a whole lot more. But I’ll bring you up to speed when I know more.“
    “Who have you told?“ Katie asked.
    “My writing friend Felicity. Shelley. Mel. And you three. I might tell two other people privately. Ms. Bunting and a woman named Tazz.“
    “The secret expands,“ Mike said with a smile.
    “Eat your sandwiches. What are you all doing tonight?“
    For the first time this summer, none of them had much to do. Katie said, “I’m trying a new recipe I learned in summer school. It’s a dessert. So Todd and Mike have to stay home to eat it. Why aren’t you eating anything now?“
    “I have to go to the theater again. Just to taste what food Shelley’s caterer comes up with, then rush home and dress up to have a really fabulous meal with Mel. He’s been promising me one and he’s finally tearing himself away from his desk to supply it. I’ll be out late—we’re not leaving until eight-thirty. If you go somewhere, leave me a note about where you are and telephone numbers.“
    “I’ll leave you a piece of my dessert with the note,“ Katie said.
    Jane and Shelley drove their own vehicles to the theater. Jane had already explained why she needed to leave early.
    “If I were you, I wouldn’t even have turned up,“ Shelley had told her. “It’s a good thing to have an excellent celebration dinner with Mel.“
    “I promised to help you taste things.“
    “You can leave after a teaspoon of each snack. Then bolt home and dress to the nines.“
    Jane, naturally, had arrived a little later than Shelley, even though Jane had pulled out of her driveway first. She often wondered why Shelley didn’t get her driver’s license revoked regularly. But Shelley had never been issued a speeding ticket while Jane was riding with her—her own foot constantly pressing on the imaginary brake on her side of the van.
    This was almost the end of rehearsals. Wednesday night would be a rehearsal with all the real furniture and lighting. Thursday was the formal dress rehearsal, and Friday was opening night. Shelley had insisted up front that the college arrange for drinks and any food they’d like to sell at the intermission. On Thursday there would be a mob to feed. In addition to the cast, there would be Tazz, the stagehands, the prop master, the lighting director and his two students, and Evelyn Chance with three of her biggest contributing investors.
    The front of the building was covered with posters, the college was probably awash in posters, and the box office was open and selling tickets already. Fortunately the box office people didn’t have to be fed. Evelyn Chance was probably the only person involved in the play who had worked on Sunday. She must have been busy slapping posters everywhere.
    Jane went looking for Ms. Bunting during the one scene in the first act that she wasn’t in. She found her in the workroom, needlepointing.
    “Yes, before you ask, I washed my hands first,“ she said.
    “I have a secret to tell you,“ Jane said. “Because I like you so much. I just sold a mystery novel this morning and I promise it’s better than this script.“
    “Oh, Jane, that’s wonderful news. Is it a real publisher?“
    “It is. And a good editor. I’d like to know an address for you so I can send you an autographed copy when it comes out. I hope you’ll like it.“
    “How sweet of you. I’ll keep your secret. Are you telling anyone else here?“
    “I thought I might tell Tazz. I like her, too.“
    “She’ll probably be as thrilled as I am for you. Do you have something I can write my real address on?“
    Jane fumbled around in her purse and finally just ripped a deposit form out of her checkbook. “If I ever get business cards, I’ll have them made to look like