“No, but most people were already inside by six p.m.”
“Did he comment on your Triple M sweatshirt?”
“He said something like ‘a fellow fan’ when he first walked up, like there weren’t all that many of us in the crowd. It’s hard to tell how many Triple M fans were there when everybody’s bundled up, but I knew several from Maggie’s local fan page who said they were going to be there. Some of us hung out and shared photos of Maggie while we waited for the program to conclude. We were getting tweets from a few lucky enough to be inside, which had a few pictures of Maggie, but no one had good sound so we could hear her.”
David tapped the photo again. “Did you tell him much about yourself?”
“How do you mean?”
“Your name? How you met Maggie?”
“It would have been rude not to give my name when we’re having a fairly long conversation. I said I was a fan of Maggie’s, that it was wonderful to have her back in Chicago. Oh, and he said something about a long drive to see her.” Lynne closed her eyes, pondering the wording. “‘It will be worth the long drive to see her.’ Like that. He mostly seemed distracted to me—he was impatient for more activity, more coming and going, thought there would be a bigger crowd. You have to be patient if you want to capture the experience of a rope line. You need to wait for the action to come to you. He was all over the place, walking down past the vehicles, circling back to the front of the hotel, rejoining us at the back. You lose the best vantage points when you move around that way.”
She thought for a long moment, shook her head. “He was nice enough but never said his name. He didn’t stay to see Maggie leave. I told him she would use the back exit when the evening was over, she always does at events, but he must have thought she’d use the front and missed her leave like he missed her arrive. That would have totally bummed me out if I’d traveled a ways to see her.” Lynne flashed David a smile. “Maggie looked great. She’s been working out in New York, you can tell. She’s gorgeous—her photos don’t do her justice.”
“I’d agree with you on that,” David said. “Thank you, Lynne. What you told us helps.”
“Okay.” She shrugged. “But I don’t see how.”
“If you see him again, would you call me?” David handed her one of his cards.
“Sure.” She looked at David, then Evie. “He must have done something.”
“He maybe did. We need to talk to him. And you should consider him someone you don’t want to be alone with.”
“If I see him, I’ll call.” She carefully tucked David’s card into her pocket. “I took your other advice. I sent my song notebook to Mr. Thomas with the cover letter you suggested. I copied all the pages first and then sent it registered mail because I didn’t want it to get lost. I hope he won’t think that too much trouble, that he has to sign for it.”
“You did fine. It’s a valuable notebook.”
“It would be a really big break to have the same teacher as Maggie helping me fine-tune my lyrics.”
“You’ve got a solid chance. He only takes on a few new songwriters a year, so if you hear back from him even with just a comment, consider that a real break. Submit again in six months to see if he selects you for the next opening.”
“I’ll persist,” Lynne promised. “Maggie’s voice coach was in Barrington. I asked if the woman could be my coach too, but she’d decided to retire. Maggie was her last.”
David nodded. “Keep singing, Lynne. Your break is going to come—talent always wins with time and dedication.”
“Thanks.”
David looked to Jim. “Do me a favor and walk Lynne home tonight.”
“Sure . . .”
Evie caught Jim’s worried look and shook her head. They weren’t about to explain further, even if Lynne hadn’t been standing there.
Evie was feeling an urgency about what should come next. “We need to check out Maggie’s hairdresser, makeup people, any support around Maggie at the event. Basically anyone who would know where she lives or have a way to find out.”
“I’m on it,” David replied, sending multiple texts as they returned to his car. “Maggie’s band members left for New York this morning, but her hair and makeup people have hired new assistants for the Chicago area when Maggie is back here. We’ll track down those names, make sure no one opens the door to an unfamiliar face tonight. I’ve already assigned security to cover the grounds at Maggie’s home while she’s in residence, just in case.” He read replies coming in and nodded. “John is moving on getting that list of names, buttoning people up.”