Matinees With Miriam. Vicki Essex

were just talking about you,” Sanjay said by way of greeting. “Ranjeet was thinking of expanding the business, maybe opening a smaller branch just for repairs.”

      It always weirded him out how his cousin addressed his father by his first name rather than Uncle like all his other cousins did. “Where would you open it?”

      “Ideally, not far from the shop, but the rents are pretty high. Don’t suppose you know any good real estate agents?”

      “I’ll get you some names.” He nodded to his father. “Things going okay, Baap? How’s your knee?”

      “It’s fine.” Ranjeet waved him off. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

      “I try to make him sit at the front, but he won’t.” Sanjay gave a put-upon sigh.

      His father didn’t like to be reminded that he was closing in on seventy. Shane had meant the query to subtly clue him in on the advance of his years, and that maybe expanding the business at this stage was questionable, but his father knew his son’s tactics too well and dodged. “How’s Everville these days?”

      “It’s great. A lot has changed since our last vacation there.”

      “I miss that place,” his father said wistfully. “The fishing on Silver Lake is still the best.”

      Sanjay and Shane both chuckled. If Ran wasn’t talking about the business or the latest cricket match, he was talking about fishing.

      “Well, maybe you should take some time off and visit for a weekend. I’ll be staying there for a few weeks.”

      “A vacation? That’s unlike you, Shekhar.”

      “Not exactly.” He told them about the Crown and Miriam Bateman, and the town meeting scheduled in June. “It’s my personal time, but it’s an unofficial working vacation.”

      “Ah. Apples don’t fall far from the tree. Just like you, Ran, he doesn’t know how to relax.” Sanjay toasted him with his drink.

      Ranjeet ignored him. “I remember that old theater. I took you kids to see all the Indiana Jones movies there. Shame it closed.”

      “There’s a new big theater in Welksville.”

      “Yes, but these old independent movie houses are an endangered species, you know. A whole industry has collapsed because of digital projection.”

      “For someone whose business revolves around selling the latest and greatest in technology, I wouldn’t think you’d defend the obsolete for nostalgia’s sake.”

      “You can’t put a price on nostalgia. Theaters like the Crown remind me of the ones I went to in Mumbai as a teen...” He lapsed into Hindi as he described the classic Bollywood films he’d seen when they were still new then, and how he’d met his wife, who’d been a movie set manager back in the day. Shane’s connection with his Indian roots had always been tentative at best—he’d been born and raised in New York and had lived all his life in the Tri-State area. While he appreciated his father’s point of view, Shane was a man of the here, now and future.

      “Well, the Crown’s defunct. It’ll be condemned before it ever opens again,” Shane said. Strangely, the thought made him feel a bit guilty.

      His father shrugged. “Too bad. But you know what they say. ‘Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or the present are certain to miss the future.’”

      Shane narrowed his eyes in thought. “Gandhi?”

      Ranjeet frowned. “No, JFK. Read a book now and again, son.” He went to refill his drink, limping slightly.

      His cousin chuckled. “Gotta give your dad credit. His health’s not the best, but his mind is sharp as ever.”

      Shane thought about the condo in Everville, about how nice it would be for his parents to have a place to retire to. He prompted his cousin. “Sanjay, I was wondering if you’d help me with something. How are your hacking skills these days?”

      “Depends,” he said slowly.

      “Nothing illegal, promise. I’m just trying to learn more about Miriam Bateman. I can’t find anything about her on the internet. She’s like a ghost.”

      “You mean she’s smart.” Sanjay smirked. “It’s not safe out there with all the weirdo real estate developers stalking you.”

      “I’m not stalking her. I just want to find out what she likes, what her interests are. I need to connect with her. Can you help?”

      “Sorry, that’s beyond my skill, though I do have an old buddy from MIT who might help. He’s a private investigator who specializes in digital identities.”

      “Yes. Perfect. That’d be great.”

      Sanjay sent him an odd look. “You sure you’re not stalking her?”

      “Yes, I’m sure.” He suppressed the exasperation climbing through him. Why did his family think he was such a creep? He was only doing his job. “All I’m interested in is the building, and she’s pretty much the last hurdle. The rest is up to town council, but at this stage I doubt they’ll turn the project down.”

      “You mean turn you down.” Sanjay grinned.

      He toasted his cousin. “Tell me more about this PI.”

       CHAPTER SIX

      SHANE DIDN’T GET back to Everville until the middle of the following week. He’d had paperwork to do at the Sagmar offices, and then he’d had to arrange for a more permanent place to stay for his “vacation” and pack. The B and B was nice, but he needed a better Wi-Fi connection if he was going to work. He wouldn’t waste this vacation relaxing.

      He found a sublet near Silver Lake—a little house just down the road from the beach, much like the place his family used to vacation in. It took him an additional day to settle in. He bought groceries, set up the internet connection and then made some phone calls. The PI Sanjay had recommended worked fast—he’d already emailed a preliminary report on Miriam Bateman. Shane sat down to read it.

      Miriam Bateman

      Born: December 1, 1986,

      Hudson Falls, NY

      Parents: Jeannie Ansen (mother)—deceased (overdose)

      Richard Bateman (father)—incarcerated at Rochester Penitentiary, serving twenty years for drug possession, drug trafficking, possession of a firearm, perjury in the first degree, contempt of court, assault on a police officer...

      The list went on. Shane grimaced. He kept reading.

      Education: BA in Film Studies, CUNY

      Currently employed: Freelance writer for various publications under the pseudonym M. J. Baille.

      A list of writing credits was included, with hyperlinks to her articles. She wrote on a number of subjects, mainly about pop culture, with copious movie and book reviews. Shane read through a few of the shorter ones. Her tone and style were whip-smart and a little snarky. And these weren’t just typical plot summaries with thumbs up or down: they delved into deeper issues, criticizing Hollywood for its lack of diversity and strong roles for women. She went on at length about several films that had missed major storyline opportunities. She dissected the themes and significance of several works.

      He found more articles by M. J. Baille on the decline of independent second-run theaters. She waxed on about the lost nostalgia of the smaller theater. She complained about how difficult it was to fill seats in expensive megaplexes with good independent films when people could download movies illegally. It seemed she knew everything there was to know about the movie industry, and had even interviewed some of Hollywood’s biggest names.

      Shane sat back after nearly three hours of intense