The Body in the Cast by Katherine Hall Page Read Free Book Online

Nathaniel’s masterpiece, yet another play within that.”
    â€œI thought you liked Reed’s movies.”
    â€œI do, but I also like The Scarlet Letter —and for starters, Hester Prynne was a brunette.”
    â€œTypical,” Faith countered. “If he wasn’t filming a New England classic, you wouldn’t feel so protective. And in any case, you can’t fool me, Thomas Fairchild. I know how star-struck you are. Play your cards right and I’ll let you come and stuff some pita bread someday.”
    It was true Tom was a movie buff, but his torches were lighted by Garbo, Dietrich, Colbert, and the like. Still, Faith was sure he wouldn’t mind getting a closer look at Evelyn O’Clair, blond tresses or not.
    â€œI would like to see how they film a movie, and I’m not planning to be in the crowd scene with the rest of Aleford. Even if I wanted to, it wouldn’t be worth the flak. Half the town would applaud my participation in a community event, half would have me abandoning my congregation for the siren call of the silver screen, and half would say I was stuck on myself.”
    â€œWe’d better get some sleep, darling. Your halves don’t add up. Anyway, tomorrow’s going to be a long day for me and I don’t know what’s on your ecclesiastical plate. Besides, as soon as we close our eyes, our little bundle of joy will be calling for her morning snack.”
    â€œThink we could train Ben to feed her, now that she’s taking a bottle? You know, give the lad a sense of responsibility.”
    â€œHe would be responsible all right—responsible for restoring the natural order of things to a house with only one child.”
    Â 
    Faith honked the canteen truck’s raucous horn at what had to be an out-of-state driver, despite the Massachusetts plates. A
native would have known that a posted twenty-five mph zone meant the local police chief had some extra signs lying around going to waste and the posted speed was in no way meant to be taken seriously. Making a sharp left onto River Road, toward the shoot, she smiled as she remembered the conversation the night before. It wasn’t that Ben was a little monster. He might not even be terribly jealous; he had been known to let Amy grab his finger in her mighty clutch. Ben had just liked things the way they were and saw no need to change. There was some logic to his thinking. Why rock the boat?
    The truck was what was rocking now as they reached the Pingrees’ long, rutted driveway. By the time they finished filming, the combination of heavy usage and possible heavy March downpours would require all-terrain vehicles. Maybe Alan Morris would have it paved before then. He seemed to pave the way for most things.
    Faith had come out several days earlier to talk about where to set up and had supervised the erection of the tent the previous afternoon, so she knew what the place looked like. She was not prepared, however, for the army of trucks, trailers, people, wires, and equipment that filled the New England landscape. She pulled up to the barn, which was a good distance from the house, and stopped. Alan had told her they would be shooting interior shots to begin with and that the noise of her arrival wouldn’t disturb them. A short time later, the crew took its break. For the next forty minutes, the staff of Have Faith was frantically filling orders.
    â€œA large tea, no sugar, and cream, not milk,” demanded a voice accustomed to being obeyed. “And one of those muffins—warm, but not hot.”
    â€œCorny!” cried Faith in sudden recognition.
    â€œCornelia,” the voice replied automatically, and its owner pushed aside several underlings to get a better view of the individual using the much-loathed moniker of her adolescence.
    â€œIt’s Faith. Faith Sibley, only I’m Fairchild now. Your old Dalton friend. My company is catering the shoot.”

    â€œFaith!