Page 82 of Mission: Possible

"Almost tasted store-bought but of course, you wouldn't do that when the rest of the family made all their dishes from scratch."

"Of course not," I huffed as I rolled my eyes and mentally scrambled for a plausible lie. "I perfected the recipe over many hours of practice. Too bad it came from a printout I got on the internet and accidentally tossed into the trash."

"Oh. Never mind. Why are you calling?" she snipped.

"I can't call just to say hi to my sister?"

"Uh..." Serena paused and I imagined her mental cogs whirring. "That's sweet of you. I'm very busy. You could stop by for lunch this weekend."

"Thanks. Of course I know how busy you are and don't want to keep you," I said, smoothing my way into the question I wanted to ask. "I wondered if you knew anything about the annual fundraiser that’s held at The Playhouse?"

"Of course I do. I went to one with Ted years ago. We saw the show and they served an elegant dinner afterwards with a jazz band that featured the most sublime singer. Ted spent the whole night handing out his business cards and the next month playing golf with all the subsequent new contacts."

"So… they're like business networking things?"

"More like a gathering of Montgomery's 'movers and shakers'. They only have one fundraiser a year and everyone who's anyone vies for a ticket. Ted got ours because one of the senior partners at his firm couldn't make it after they bought a whole table. Why? Do you have a case involving the next one? I could help you navigate your way through it. You'll need a new dress to start."

"By movers and shakers, you mean...?"

"Rich people, Lexi. I'm surprised Solomon hasn't taken you there yet. I'm sure some of the attendees are theater fans but a lot of business deals get signed there. Contacts are made. Being seen with the right crowd is free PR, if you know what I mean."

"I do."

"The bidding is blind so that's easy too. I'm sure people write down any old number even if they don't want the item on offer just to look more generous, but at least it results in a big wad of cash for the theater."

"Bidding?"

"To win the donated prizes. The year Ted and I went there, one of the prizes was a week in Napa, another was season tickets for the Red Sox, another was dinner and a night at The Marchmont Hotel, and a portrait painting and a whole bunch of other expensive things. Ted bid on the Red Sox tickets."

"Did he win?"

"Of course not. The winning bid was crazy. Ted just wanted to look fancy to his colleagues. The whole idea is to splash the cash very blatantly even if no one directly comments on it."

I scribbled the information on my notepad. "Thanks for your help. I appreciate it," I told her.

"Oh, well, yes, of course. And you might suggest that Solomon buy a table. Antonio will look great in a tux and I'll be happy to help you get through it so you don't look like Philistines."

"That’s so kind of you," I said dryly. After thanking her again, I disconnected.

A heavy feeling lodged in the pit of my stomach. The fundraiser was the place where people made deals. What if Sophie went there to make a "deal" with Austen? Was she deliberately putting herself in his sights? A pretty woman posing as someone interested in the same things he was? That could pay huge dividends from the investment of the ticket’s original purchase. It was such a horrible, cynical way to look at it. Even worse, it played into Austen's theory that Sophie wasn't the woman she said she was. I didn't want to confirm his suspicion but would if I had to. Was she a gold digger who figured out a way to siphon cash from a rich husband? Maybe, but didn't I have an obligation to the unconscious woman that was brutally attacked to give her the full benefit of my doubts? Her friends at the museum mentioned her passion for theater, so perhaps it wasn't entirely a lie. I couldn't question her until she could defend herself. All I had so far was an uncomfortable feeling that something wasn't quite right in Sophie Takahashi's life. I needed some proof. I had to be absolutely sure.

I checked my inbox again but found no message from Annie Woodley. Another thought struck me. I was still waiting on Maddox to tell me about the cash stash in the Takahashis' home. I called him, hoping he would have some fresh answers for me. When he didn't pick up, I left a message to phone me about any news.

While I waited, another bright idea crossed my mind and I decided to call The Playhouse. A man with a very low voice answered. I told him I was interested in purchasing tickets for the annual gala.

"We haven't begun selling those tickets yet, ma'am," he said. "I can add you to the 'interested parties' list if you like?"

"If you could just provide me with some information for now, that would be great," I told him, lacking any desire to be added to yet another mailing list. "My friends, Austen and Sophie highly recommended it. They actually met at the gala. Isn't that lovely?"

"Very," said the man, audibly uninterested.

"Perhaps you know them?" I continued. "Austen Takahashi? I imagine he must be a patron?"

"The name sounds familiar but I can't divulge the identities of our current or past patrons. A public list is posted on our website where you will also find the dates, time and the particular play they plan to debut for the next gala."

"And can I buy the tickets through that website too?"

"Yes and no. Our corporate manager handles all the ticket sales for tables, which we reserve for our esteemed business guests. Our priority list ensures patrons have an opportunity of at least twenty-four hours prior to the general sales. In addition to that, there is the competition we offer in theMontgomery Gazettefor a free pair of tickets."