The Chick and the Dead (11 page)

It was curious, and I was curious about it. I gave Ella an encouraging pat on the back and carefully stepped over camera cables and around light stands, heading out in search of Trish. I found her in what I'd heard the TV folks call the greenroom, the place guests waited until they were told it was time for them to go in front of the cameras. She was lounging in a plush recliner, and I did a double take when I saw her.

Trish was dressed in a navy and red plaid skirt and matching jacket.

I recognized the pricey as well as the dumpy. My mom had always shopped at Talbot's. Trish's scrawny legs—and the navy pumps on her feet—were stretched out in front of her, and she had a can of Coke in one hand.

"Hey, Trish." When I smiled and waved, she opened her eyes, and I realized that she'd been napping.

"Just thought you'd like to know that Merilee's interview is almost over."

"Yeah, whatever." Trish stretched and sat up. The smell of menthol wafted through the room toward me. She drained the last of the Coke in the can. "God, maybe we can get out of here now. I always thought TV studios would be, you know, interesting."

"Me, too." There wasn't much else to say. Aside from asking who this person was and what she'd done with the scared-of-her-own shadow Trish I'd met at Garden View. Knowing I wouldn't get an answer, I stepped back into the hallway.

And smacked right into Merilee.

"Sorry." The apology was automatic. After all, how sorry did I have to be? I was the one walking backward. Merilee was the one going straight ahead. She might actually have noticed me if she didn't look so distracted.

I moved out of the doorway and let her into the greenroom. Call me a rubbernecker. Like a witness at the scene of an especially gruesome accident, I was anxious to see what was going to happen between Merilee and the new and improved Trish.

What I saw was Merilee take one look at Trish and open her mouth. I could just about read the biting words that were ready on her lips.

But instead of speaking them, she swallowed hard. A small, nervous smile flickered over her lips. "Are you ready to leave?" she asked Trish.

"Hell, yes." Trish hoisted herself out of the chair and thrust her Coke can in Merilee's face. "Get me another soda first."

Merilee jumped as if she'd been slapped, and I braced myself, waiting for the tirade. Instead, Merilee held out her hand for the can and headed across the room to toss it into the trash, her teeth clenched around her question.

"Regular or diet?"

I guess I must have dreamed about the whole weird situation between Merilee and Trish that night. That would explain why I woke up the next morning thinking about Coke cans and cameras and a frump who turned into a plaid-clad shopping princess right before my eyes.

I was making coffee and still shaking away the memory when my phone rang.

"Pepper, it's Ella."

I could tell from the tone of her voice that something was very wrong. I sat down at my kitchen table. "What?"

On the other end of the phone, I heard Ella gulp. "I have bad news," she said. "Very bad news. Trish Kingston is dead."

Considering that Ella was in the business of death
, she was awfully upset by Trish's passing. Considering that I was in the same business and had the added bonus of knowing that dead didn't always mean gone, I still couldn't blame her.

It was one thing spending forty-plus hours a week surrounded by the dearly departed when they were simply names on headstones and notations in a database. It was another when, the last we'd seen her, Trish was alive and well.

Even if she had been acting as if aliens had taken over her body.

On my way to the cemetery, I stopped at Starbucks for a cup of the jasmine tea Ella loved so much, and once inside the office, I nodded hello to Jennine, who was busy with a grieving family, and hurried to Ella's office to get the tea to her while it was still hot. I set the cup down on the desk in front of her and watched her blow her nose.

"I know this is ridiculous." Ella's voice was watery. Her nose was raw. Her eyes were the same shade of red as the beads on the bracelet she was wearing that day. "I mean, I hardly knew the woman, but still, this is such a shock. And what a shame! Especially when everything was going so well." No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Ella's face went ashen.

"Oh my gosh," she moaned. "I didn't mean that. Not the way it sounded. I only meant—"

"I know." I didn't. Not for sure. And I wasn't very good at offering comfort, but at the same time I figured it was the right thing to say, I also knew this was the perfect opening to bring up the subject of Trish's odd behavior the day before. "I bet you meant that you weren't talking about
SFTD
and the premiere and all that stuff. You meant that things were going well for Trish personally."

"Exactly." Ella nodded and blotted the tip of her nose. "She told me. Just yesterday as we were leaving the television station. She told me that things were looking up for her." Ella's office was larger than mine. She had two guest chairs. I dropped down into the one closer to the window that looked out at the section of Garden View where Didi was buried. "Really? She said that?

Didn't it strike you as a little odd?"

Ella sniffed. Confused, she wrinkled her nose.

I sat back. "Think about it. When Merilee and Trish were here at the cemetery, Trish looked like a
Queer Eye
guest
before
the guys got to her. And one look from Merilee practically melted her on the spot. Yesterday at the TV station… well, I can't say she looked like she stepped out of
Vogue
. Nothing could make Trish look that good. But she was dressed differently. More stylishly. Sort of. And definitely more expensively. She was acting strange, too."

"Was she?" Ella scrubbed her hands over her face, and I remembered that I was the only one who'd witnessed the odd exchange between Merilee and Trish in the greenroom. "I noticed her clothing, of course. I just thought…" She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I just figured it was a side to Trish that we hadn't seen."

"I'll say." I'd wound my carrot-colored hair into a braid before I left the house, and I fingered the end of it, thinking. "Don't you wonder why?"

"Why we hadn't seen that side of her?" Ella popped the lid on the cup and breathed in deep. I could practically see some of the tension melt away from her, and I was glad I'd taken the time to stop for the tea. She took a careful sip. "I guess we just didn't know Trish long enough to know what she was really like. And now…" The memory of Trish's untimely end negated the positive effects of the jasmine tea. Ella's eyes filled with tears. "We'll never have a chance to know her well. What a shame. She was my age, you know. Or at least close to it. That's when it really hits hard. When it's someone you know and they're the same age as you." She heaved a sigh, and the white blouse she was wearing with a relatively conservative purple skirt rose and fell along with the strings of orange and red beads that hung around her neck. "So unexpected."

When Ella called with the news of Trish's death, she'd been too upset to say much about exactly what had happened. And I'd felt a little ghoulish pressing her for details. But of course, I was curious. "How did she die, anyway?" I asked Ella.

She blinked and swiped at the tears that trickled down her cheeks. "That's the really sad part," she said.

"Trish was trying on her gown. For the costume gala that will mark the opening of the museum. And from what I heard, it sounded positively beautiful! Gold silk with a trimming of… well, I guess none of that matters now. Anyhow, what happened…" Ella shook her head, the gesture not one of uncertainty as much as it was of despair. "Well, nobody knows how it happened for sure, but somehow, she tied the laces on her corset too tight. By the time Merilee heard a few muffled gasps and found her, it was too late. She suffocated."

"From wearing a corset?" The question burst out of me along with a laugh. One look at the shock on Ella's face and I knew both were inappropriate. I swallowed down the rest of what I was going to say (which was something in the line of
How stupid could the woman be?)
and nodded solemnly. "Merilee must be knocked for a loop. What's she going to do now that she doesn't have Trish?" Ella rose from her seat. But not before she looked at me out of the corner of her eye. Like there was something she was uneasy about.

"What?" I got up, too. Sure, Ella was my boss, but I was a whole head taller than her. I figured if I had the height advantage, maybe she'd come clean. "There's something you're not telling me." Ella's smile came and went. "It's something good."

"If it was something good, you'd look happy."

"I am happy. I mean, not about Trish or anything, but, Pepper, you should know that this is a golden opportunity for you. And it will take care of your financial problems. I've been worried about you, you see. Worried about how you were going to get through the summer without your regular paycheck. That's why when the opportunity came up…"

The opportunity had already come up. The opportunity to make a few bucks. If I could prove that Didi wrote
So Far the Dawn
. If Harmony ended up coming into those tens of millions and was willing to toss even the tiniest percentage of it my way.

I was pretty sure this was not what Ella was talking about.

I barked out a laugh. "What did you do, offer my services as a secretary to Merilee?" Ella didn't say a thing. She didn't have to. She turned as red as her beads, all the way from her chin to her forehead.

"No, you didn't." The words came out of me in a whoosh of horror, and I backed away. From Ella and her sick sense of humor. From the very thought of spending the better part of my summer with the author from hell. "You're trying to pull a fast one on me. You're joking. Please tell me you're joking." Ella didn't confirm or deny. Instead, she gave me her Mother Knows Best smile. "It's a perfect arrangement," she said. "Think about it. You need money and Miss Bowman needs—"

"A punching bag? A whipping boy? A Trish clone to grovel at her feet?" Ella's lips pinched. Her shoulders were rigid. "Trish wasn't a groveler. But she was respectful. Who wouldn't be? Merilee is a star. Don't forget that, Pepper. She's earned the right to be treated with a certain amount of dignity."

No way was I hearing this right. "I'm too smart to get sucked into that nonsense," I reminded Ella and myself. "I'm too much my own woman to bow and kiss Merilee's ring. And in case you haven't noticed—and boy, I hope you've noticed, because if you haven't, I'm doing something really wrong—I'm much too well dressed to take Trish's place."

Buying some time—and maybe thinking about using the window as a means of escape—I spun away from Ella. Lucky for me I wasn't very quick on my feet. One step farther and I would have walked smack into Didi.

"This is perfect!" Didi's eyes glowed with excitement. "This is exactly the opportunity we've been waiting for."

"No." I was talking to Didi. And to Ella. Just so they'd both know it, I turned back around. "No," I said again.

"But why not?"

The question may have come from Ella. Or it might have come out of Didi's mouth. It was hard to tell because Didi was suddenly standing right behind Ella, and they were both talking at the same time.

"It's the answer to our prayers," Didi said.

"It's the solution to your problem," Ella reminded me.

"It's the perfect way for you to investigate," Didi told me. "You'd have the inside track."

"Up close and personal." Ella smiled. "How lucky you are to have the opportunity to establish that kind of relationship with Miss Bowman. And don't deny it, Pepper!" She wagged a finger at me. "You're a closet fan. No matter what you say. I'd read about it, of course, but even I'd forgotten that Merilee had a sister. And who knew that she was buried here at Garden View? That alone makes me think that you're the ideal candidate for this job. You care about the family. You know their history."

"You sure do!" Didi grinned. "What a way to help me out."

"And you'll really be helping me out," Ella said. "After all, if I can handle this and get Merilee the help she needs, it will make me look like a miracle worker."

"It will be perfect," Didi commented. "Especially since I heard someone around here say that Merilee's staying at our old house."

Both their voices bounced around inside my head, warring to see which would make me feel guilty enough to cave. I couldn't stand it anymore. "What difference does it make where Merilee is staying?" I shrieked.

Ella wasn't following my train of thought. Who could blame her? She didn't know that I was carrying on two conversations at the same time. She eyed me warily "Merilee's staying in the family house," Ella said, and behind her, Didi smiled and nodded. "As far as I can tell, that doesn't make any difference to anybody except maybe to you. But it can't be more than twenty minutes between the Bowman house inOhioCity and your apartment. You can pop back and forth every couple of days to check the mail, or I can pick it up on my way into work. Miss Bowman, of course, isn't used to being on her own. She'll want you to stay there with her."

"Perfect!" Didi chirped.

"Not a chance in hell," I said.

"Oh, come on, Pepper!"

This comment came from both Ella and Didi at the same time.

I grumbled a curse, flopped back down in Ella's guest chair, and dropped my head in my hands. "Why?" I groaned. "Why is it so important?"

Ella, being rational, thought the question was for her. She hurried over and sat in the chair next to mine. The better to have a heart-to-heart with me. "Merilee's doing us a tremendous favor.
Us
being ISFTDS, of course. And
us
being Garden View. Look at all the fabulous publicity we've gotten." She frowned.

"Well, except for what happened to that poor photographer and now to Trish." She shook away the gloomy thoughts. "But don't forget all the good stuff. There's been plenty of positive press. And none of it would have been possible without Merilee. She's been gracious and kind. And she's being generous, too. She's even donating personal mementos to the museum. One of them is her first, handwritten draft of
So
Far the Dawn
."