Let's Play Dead (7 page)

“Oh, could we?” Arabella clapped her hands with excitement. “It would have to be scheduled for a year or two out, since the
Harriet
exhibit will be up through next year. But it would take that long to plan anyway, wouldn’t it?”

“So I gather, although exhibit planning is not my area of expertise. And it would be nice to find some funding for it. Speaking of which, I just hired a development director. Would you like to meet her?”

“I’d be delighted.”

We wrapped up the tour quickly, and I led her past Shelby’s desk. “Shelby, this is—”

She interrupted me before I could finish. “Arabella Heffernan. Of course! We used to visit Let’s Play years ago, when my daughter, Melissa, was young and we were visiting my husband John’s family. I’ve always had a soft spot for your museum.”

“Well, isn’t that nice? I take it your daughter is grown now? Any grandbabies?”

“Not yet, but she is getting married next summer, so I can hope.”

I broke in, “We were just kicking around ideas for some sort of joint exhibit on carousel animals, and were wondering about finding some grant support for it. Maybe you could do a little digging?”

“Happy to! I can see that would be a lot of fun to plan.”

“No rush, but it would be good to know what resources are available. Can I see you out, Arabella?”

“You mean you want to get some work done, dear. Of course. I’m so glad we had a chance to talk, and let’s keep in touch. Shelby, nice to meet you.”

“You, too, Arabella.”

I took Arabella back downstairs. In the elevator she turned to me. “Nell, could I ask one more favor?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“I know you must be swamped, with your new position, but would you mind talking to Caitlin? We’re short-staffed, and she’s been handling PR for Let’s Play. Jason will be fine, but I thought maybe you could walk Caitlin through how to handle . . . difficult situations with the press and donors.”

Because I had so much experience dealing with rather public institutional crises? Sadly it was true. “Sure, I can give her some pointers.”

“Oh, thank you! Could I send her over this afternoon? Just in case there’s any leak about Jason’s mishap, I want her to be ready.”

Apparently I wasn’t going to get much paperwork done today. “Of course, send her over.”

“I really do appreciate it, Nell, and I’m sure Caitlin will, too.”

The elevator reached the ground floor and I saw Arabella off, then wandered back to my desk. Was it lunchtime yet? Could I skip lunch and just eat those lovely cookies? I had barely settled myself when Shelby appeared and dropped into the chair in front of me. “Aren’t you going to offer me a cookie?”

“No, I want to keep them all to myself!” I smiled and offered her the basket.

“I bet you do. You didn’t happen to catch the name of the bakery, did you? These are wonderful.” Shelby munched blissfully. “What brought Arabella here?”

“There was an unfortunate incident yesterday, while I was at Let’s Play—something went wrong with one of the exhibits they’re installing, a worker got a bad shock, and they took him off to the hospital. Arabella came by to tell me he’s going to be fine. The cookies were compensation for whatever upset I might have suffered from witnessing what happened. I’m just glad it wasn’t any worse.”

“Amen to that! That was nice of her. And I like that idea for a joint project—collaborative efforts sell well to funders, don’t you think?”

“I do. And it would be an interesting alliance, given how different our audiences are. Great crossover potential. I was surprised, though, that you knew Arabella, and Let’s Play. You weren’t just being polite, were you?”

“Not at all! I do remember it, from years back. It was always a little shabby, but my daughter loved it.”

“Still true. So do your in-laws still live around here? Would I know them?”

Shelby laughed. “I doubt it—they don’t like to part with a nickel, so they wouldn’t be on your fundraising radar. So help me, they had a stick up their you-know-whats, one and all. We visited for holidays when Melissa was young, but after a while even she didn’t want to come. They retired to Florida several years ago, and I don’t see much of them these days, at least since Melissa left home. Doesn’t exactly break my heart.” Shelby helped herself to another cookie.

“Did you need me for something?” I prompted her, before she ate all my goodies.

“Oh—yes. I’ve got someone I’d like you to talk to about your assistant position.”

“That was fast. Does Melanie approve?”

“Sure does. I gave her his résumé this morning.”

“His?”

Shelby arched one eyebrow at me. “You’re not going to go all sexist about this?”

“Of course not. If he can do the job, I’ll be happy to talk to him. When can he come in?”

“Would this afternoon work for you? He’s temping at the moment, but he’s between jobs.”

“Bring him on in—I’ll make time for him.”

“OK, I’ll give him a call.” She stood up. “I’ll let you go back to work now—if you’ll bribe me with one more cookie.”

“Done.” Regretfully I handed her one, refusing to count how many—or how few—remained. “Now shoo.”

Fortified by the cookies, I decided to work through the
lunch hour. Unfortunately, fifteen minutes later Front Desk Bob called up to say that there was a Caitlin Treacy to see me. “Send her up,” I told Bob. “I’ll meet her at the elevator.”

I’d only seen Caitlin as she had rushed to Jason’s side the day before, and I wouldn’t have recognized the slender young woman who emerged from the elevator. She was taller than Arabella, and I wondered briefly what her father had looked like, since she bore little resemblance to her smaller, rounder mother. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Ms. Pratt.”

“Nell, please,” I said absently. “No problem. As your mother may have told you, I know a bit about the situation you’re in, and I’m happy to help. How’s Jason?” I asked as I led her down the hall to my office.

“He’s good, or so the doctors say. They wouldn’t let me stay overnight at the hospital, so I spent the night at Mother’s.”

We walked in silence until reaching my office, where I gestured her toward a chair. “She mentioned that. So you and Jason live in Camden?”

Caitlin was studying my office, taking in the details—or avoiding my eyes? “Yes. We live together. He’s a graduate student so he doesn’t have a lot of money, and rents are cheap there compared to here. I could live with my mother, but I’d rather live with Jason.”

Well, that was direct, at least. “Does he remember much about what happened?”

“No.” She didn’t elaborate.

It seemed to me that I was doing a lot of the work to keep this conversation going, which was annoying because she was the one who wanted something from me. “What can I do for you? Do you have questions?”

“Mother thought I should talk to you. Look, my job is exhibits management, not public relations, so I don’t really know what to do. Mother said you had something awful happen here, so she thought you could help me with what to say. Or not say. If the press comes around.”

Based on her awkwardness, I could see why Caitlin wasn’t up to handling public relations. I wondered if she was capable of talking to people at all. She was an attractive young woman but definitely short on charm.

“There’s no one else at your place who handles the press?” I hoped there was someone who could bail her out.

“Nope, the person who usually would is out on maternity leave. Bad timing, with the exhibit happening just now.” She said abruptly, “You know it takes years to put together an exhibit, right?”

“Yes,” I said. I’d been involved in raising money for more than one at the Society, although luckily we had nothing in the works at the moment.

“And now it’s just a couple of weeks before we’re supposed to open. It’s all set up, and the publicity for it went out long ago. And now this thing with Jason happened. So far nobody’s paid it any attention, and he’s not going to stir anything up, that’s for sure. I mean, like suing or anything. But say somebody at the hospital talks—what do I do then?”

I felt for her. I’d learned the hard way how fragile an institution’s reputation was, and one wrong step could do a lot of harm to it. Of course, identifying the cause would go a long way toward easing visitors’ minds. “The most important thing you can do is reassure the public that Let’s Play is safe for their children. That what happened to Jason was a simple accident, and that you’ve had everything checked out by experts who have assured you that the wiring is safe. That is, only if this leaks out.”

“But it
was
an accident. The wiring is fine.”

I was a bit surprised at her almost flippant attitude. “Caitlin, you may know that, but what you have to do is make sure the public does, too—and believes it. Forgive me for saying so, but I think your mother’s a much better spokesperson than you are, if it comes to that.”

“I know,” Caitlin said. “I’m not good with people, and I hate sucking up. I’m a lot happier dealing with paperwork and planning. I think the exhibit is great. Don’t you?”

“It looked charming, though I didn’t really get to see it working before the accident. I imagine that children will love it. But to get back to the point, do you have any connections in city government? A friend at the
Inquirer
, maybe? Can you invite the mayor to the opening? How about a buddy at a local radio or television station who can help you get the word out?”

Caitlin shrugged—again. I couldn’t believe how uninterested she appeared in this conversation. “I don’t know. I’ll have to check the files, when I get time.”

“Make the time,” I said firmly. “It’s important to keep the press on your side, just in case things like this happen. That means you have to cultivate relationships with them—all the time, not just when you need them. You have to manage all your relationships in this town. People can really pull together and help you, but only if you’ve laid the groundwork first. And right now, if I were you, I’d brainstorm with the rest of your staff and try to figure out what your strongest contact is and use that.” I stared at her. She stared back, her expression blank. Was I getting through to her? I doubted it. I thought for another moment. “Be prepared for quick turnaround—keep ahead of the story. Could Hadley Eastman and her publicity people pull any strings?”

Caitlin grimaced. “I think they’d be happy to wash their hands of this whole mess, including Hadley. All she does is whine.”

I wasn’t getting a much better impression of Caitlin, frankly. I stood up. “I hope I’ve helped you, Caitlin. Now I’m afraid that I’ve got a lot to get finished today. I’ll see you out.”

Caitlin followed my lead and stood. “Thank you for talking with me, Nell. I appreciate your time.” She said it as if by rote. Could anyone be that clueless, even in her twenties? Daughter or not, Arabella would do well to find someone more sympathetic to handle the local media, because Caitlin did not seem to have the necessary skills—or tact. Well, she was Arabella’s problem, not mine, and I’d done what I could. I took her back to the lobby and trudged back up the stairs to my desk.

At four o’clock Shelby proudly escorted her candidate
for my much-needed assistant into my office. He was a slender young man with a sweep of silky blond hair that kept falling across his forehead. “Eric, this is Ms. Pratt. Nell, meet Eric Marston. Don’t bite his head off.” Eric gave her a look, and she held up her hands in surrender. “All right, I’m going.” She backed out quickly.

Eric walked across the room and extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Miz Pratt.”

“Let me guess—you’re also from the South, like Shelby?” The accent combined with his manners gave him away.

“That I am, ma’am. May I sit down?”

“Oh, please do.” Once again, I was in the dark: the résumé Melanie had passed on to me was short and bland, so I had little to go on. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“I’m twenty-three, ma’am. College graduate, William and Mary. Been in Philadelphia ’bout a year now. I don’t have a whole lot of work experience, but I helped put myself through school by working in some of the offices on campus, and I’ve been doin’ a lot of temp work since I got here. I keyboard one hundred words per minute, and I file like nobody’s business. Can you tell me what you’re looking for?”

“Well, Eric, I need someone to organize my life here. I haven’t been in this position long, but I’ve worked here for a while. What I need is someone to answer phones, type up letters and reports for me, manage my schedule, take notes at board meetings, and make my life easier. I don’t expect you to pick up my dry cleaning, or bring me coffee, unless you’re getting some from yourself. Have I scared you off yet?”

“No, ma’am. I appreciate your honesty.”

“Well, that’s good, because I don’t have time to play games. Why do you want this job?”

He smiled shyly. “Well, for a start, I need a job, like a lot of other people these days. This city’s not a cheap place to live, you know. I like working with people, and I like organizing things—you should see my closet. I’m punctual, thrifty, neat, and friendly. That’s what you need, right?”

“How about tough, like with people who insist they need to talk with me immediately and won’t take no for an answer?”

He gave me a bigger smile this time. “Well, I’ll just have to turn the charm on until they go away, won’t I?”

I laughed. “How do you feel about history?”

I was pleased to see that his eyes lit up. “I truly love it, ma’am. I was an economics major in college, but I focused on the late-nineteenth-century reconstruction of the South, so I know about research and original sources and all. And Philadelphia’s where so much of it began, right? Even though Massachusetts claims a lot of the credit.”

Could lightning strike twice? Shelby had walked in out of nowhere, and I’d hired her on the spot. Eric seemed too perfect to be true; my luck was never this good. “Eric, how about this? I need someone desperately, like yesterday. Why don’t I give you a trial period, say two weeks? We’d pay for your time, at whatever the going temp rate is, and if everything works out by the end of that time, you’ve got the job. If not, we’ll part ways with no hard feelings. Does that seem fair?”