“Is there any of the sweetener in there?” I said, trying to look into the brown shipping box.
Talia shook her head. “The cops took all of it.”
“But she kept it in here?” I asked, directing the question to both of them.
Nell nodded first. “She kept it in that drawer.” Nell leaned forward and yanked the drawer open. “I swear, I think she counted how many of those weird packets were in there every day. She kept going on about how expensive Nature’s Sweetie was and nobody was supposed to touch it except the production assistant who was getting her coffee drink.” All that was in there now was an array of Talia’s personal items. I saw some nail polish and a mesh bag filled with makeup.
I glanced at the office and adjoining hall. “Anybody could have come in here and messed with her sweetener.”
Nell nodded in agreement quickly. “That’s right. That’s absolutely right. It wasn’t as if she locked the drawer or anything.”
Any chink in Talia’s tough exterior had closed up and she’d gone back to her professional mode as she pushed closer to the desk and shut the drawer. As I stepped back to get out of her way, my elbow knocked into the box and several things on top fell to the floor.
“Leave it,” Talia said as she picked up an envelope off the desk. She turned to Nell. “I have a check for you.”
It was against my grain to leave a mess, so I bent down to pick up the stuff anyway. I laid the two copies of
Los Angeles Magazine
back on the pile in the box but stopped when I saw the last item was a clear plastic picture frame. I turned it over and examined it.
“What’s this about?” I said, looking at the photograph slipped inside. It wasn’t the image of Robyn that inspired my comment. She was wearing a paper hat and holding a noisemaker with some people scattered behind her. What got my attention was the hole next to her. When I say hole, I mean actual hole in the picture. Whoever had been in the photo with her had been carefully cut out, leaving a big opening. I held it up and showed it to the two women and asked if they knew who was missing.
Talia seemed impatient as she shrugged off the question and said Robyn didn’t discuss her personal life. Nell seemed too distraught about her situation to even care about my question. Talia took the photo from me and laid it back on the box and turned all her attention on Nell as her lips curved in a calculated sympathetic smile.
“I’m sure you probably had nothing to do with the stuff in Robyn’s coffee, and if it was up to me, I’d say it was fine for you to be here. But the powers that be just think it’s best for all concerned if you take some time off. You’re not being fired or anything, and as soon as things get straightened out, I’m sure they’ll have you come back,” she said. Nell swallowed, clearly not happy with the situation. Nell’s face fell when Talia held her hand out and asked for the pass she’d used to come in. “And I’ll need the phone we got for you,” she added, gesturing impatiently as Nell rummaged through her purse. When Nell finally held them out, Talia quickly took both items.
Only then did Talia hand Nell the check and, in the same move, usher us back out into the hall. Now that Talia had what she wanted, it seemed like Operation Get Us Out of There had taken over.
“Let’s get your things so you can be on your way.” Talia was smiling as she said it, but it was a cold smile. You could tell because there were no eyes in it at all.
Talia touched us both on the arm and almost swept us toward the big room at the end of the corridor. There were desks scattered about and a bunch of people who all seemed to be talking and rushing around. Not one of them made eye contact with Nell. She was definitely persona non grata. Talia stood with me while Nell went to her cubby to get her stuff.
I was relieved when one of the production assistants stopped playing “you’re invisible” with Nell and came up to her and handed her a plastic grocery bag to put her stuff in.
As for me, I was checking out the big wipe-off board hanging on the wall. There were columns with names on top. Talia’s had been written in over a smudgy erasure. Below Talia’s name
Tribute—Celebrity Golf Tournament
was written in green marker. Beneath it was a list of names in various colors. When my eye moved even lower, I was surprised to see
Shedd & Royal
written in blue marker with a question mark after it. There was just white space beneath it.
Then it came back to me. With all that had happened, I had forgotten all about Robyn calling Mrs. Shedd concerning staging a book signing. The notation must have something to do with it.
“I can help you with this,” I said to Talia, indicating the board. Her gaze swept over it and she seemed perplexed.
“You know Becca Ivins and Derek Trousedale?”
“Huh?” I said, confused by her question. Where did that come from? Becca Ivins and Derek Trousedale were like Hollywood royalty. They’d been married forever, both could still open a movie, and they were known for all their charity work and good deeds. My blank look seemed to irritate her and she stepped up to the board and tapped her finger on the line about the celebrity golf tournament. “What exactly is it you can do?” she asked. Then I got it. I shook my head and pointed to the listing below.
“I handle the events for Shedd and Royal.” I went on to explain Robyn’s request and Talia nodded with understanding.
“Sorry, I assumed you were talking about the show I inherited featuring the celebrity couple. I’m a little consumed with it. I can’t afford to have anything go wrong if I want this promotion to be permanent. Becca and Derek are being honored at this event.” She explained the board was used for scheduling crews, and a lot of people had been assigned to the golf tournament to get material for the background piece on the couple.
She admitted she was less concerned about the author’s show and hadn’t even considered why the bookstore was on the scheduling board or, for that matter, even realized that Shedd & Royal was a bookstore. She didn’t seem to be paying much attention when I explained how we’d thought it best to have the staged event coincide with a real one. She just wrote down the date and time, erased the question mark and scribbled in film crew.
We exchanged business cards, and she gave out an impatient sigh when she realized Nell was hanging in front of her cubby on the verge of a meltdown. I stepped in and gathered the young woman up.
As we left, I glanced over the board and caught sight of something below another segment producer’s name. Written in bold letters it said,
BOO Learns to Knit
, followed by a list of celebrity names. Thank heavens I hadn’t let Adele talk me into letting her come along. She would have thrown a fit.
CHAPTER 9
“I’D LIKE A RED–EYE,” I SAID TO BOB AND TURNED toward Nell to get her order. She was slumped in a chair, leaning her face in her hands. On top of everything else, she’d found a note in her cubby saying the cops had taken her glue gun as possible evidence. When she didn’t respond, I told Bob to make her something rich and delicious.
“Hard time?” Bob asked as his gaze went to Nell. Whenever I saw him, it was hard for me not to stare at that dab of hair below his lip. I just didn’t get the look, but then I didn’t get a lot of stuff, like why somebody would want to give their hair the color of red velvet cake. He was just a little taller than me, so my eye sort of naturally rested in the spot.
“An understatement,” I said before telling him about the events of the morning. He was interested in hearing how the show had more or less just stepped over Robyn’s dead body and moved on. I mentioned the picture with the cutout. “You said you knew her. Any idea of who it was?”
Bob shook his head. “She always came in alone. Mostly at the end of the day,” he said. He handed me my cup and made Nell what I called a party drink. “This ought to give her a boost,” he said, squirting whipped cream on top of the icy beige mixture.
“I don’t suppose Robyn ever ordered one of those,” I said, grasping the cold drink.
Bob’s eyes went skyward. “With all that sugar. Are you kidding?”
“How well did you know her?” I asked.
Bob seemed a little uncomfortable. “She was just a regular customer, so I knew her drink preference.”
“And?” I said, sensing there was something more.
“And she talked to me sometimes.” I prodded to find out what she talked about and he claimed not to remember that well. “She was pretty much consumed by her work,” he said with a noncommittal shrug before turning to get my drink.
Nell looked up when I slid the drink in front of her. “Thanks,” she said, pulling it closer. “And thanks for going with me.”
She’d been a wreck by the time we left the studio, and I’d figured she needed a little pick-me-up. In more ways than a sweet drink. I’d called Dinah, who’d called the rest of the group and arranged for the Hookers to join us. There’s nothing like the support of a group when you’re feeling down.
Not everybody could make it. Sheila was tied up with her new job at Luxe. Eduardo had been keeping a low profile as far as the group was concerned and said he had some kind of meeting. All he’d said to the group was that he was in the process of making some changes in his life, and once it was all together, he’d tell us about it.
Rhoda and Elise came in and offered Nell supportive hugs before getting some drinks and joining us. Both of them had brought their crochet project bags and pulled out their work. Rhoda had some glittery silver yarn and was making an evening wrap, and Elise was making a black-and-white striped afghan. Dinah rushed in, having just finished teaching her class. She threw her arms around me and asked me how I was holding up.
“Managing,” I said, grateful for her moral support.
Adele drifted in from the bookstore and started examining what Rhoda and Elise were working on. Finally the door to the outside opened and CeeCee came in, and she wasn’t alone.
A man in a baseball cap was trailing her. Next to him, another man was holding a small video camera. The baseball cap put a shadow over the first man’s face so that I didn’t recognize him at first, but when he got closer, I saw it was Pierce Sheraton, the host of
Entertainment Zone
. More than host, he seemed to act as the main reporter. CeeCee really had made it back into the big time if the host of the entertainment show was following her. In the past, she’d always been worried about being caught by the paparazzi with poppy seeds stuck in her teeth, but those had been independent photographers trying to get a shot they could sell to one of the tabloids. Anything Sheraton got would end up featured on his show.
She was used to being noticed whenever she went out in public, which put a certain amount of pressure on her. She couldn’t just throw on any old thing and stick a scarf over her hair to run to the market. Particularly not now when, thanks to her hosting the reality program and the vampire movie, people like Pierce Sheraton had started latching on to her when their paths crossed.
CeeCee had been around long enough to be a true professional. She knew the rules of the game. Entertainment reporters needed her, but she needed them. She was all smiles as she mugged for the camera and talked to Sheraton. But she’d also stopped a good distance away from us.
I could tell by her body language she was trying to end their encounter, and maybe it would have been a success if Adele hadn’t jumped in. She saw reporter and camera and her eyes lit up as she grabbed Rhoda’s crochet project and joined CeeCee.
With her ample size and naturally loud voice, Adele was impossible to ignore. The outfit didn’t hurt, either. She had a lacy wine-colored shawl tied around her shoulders and large earrings crocheted out of black thread that moved whenever she swung her head.
“CeeCee, you’re here at last,” Adele said in a dramatic voice. “All your crochet buddies are waiting for you.” Adele did a grand gesture toward the table, dangling Rhoda’s silvery project from her arm. The reporter gave Adele and the crochet stuff a dismissive nod and took a step back. Nell pushed back her chair and rushed up to her aunt and threw her arms around her.
“Oh, Aunt CeeCee, it was awful going to the production office.” The reporter suddenly looked at Nell intently. I saw CeeCee’s head drop and the slightest of groans escaped her lips as the video camera recorded the moment.
“You’re the one from the
Barbara Olive Overton
show. The alleged production assistant who gave Robyn Freed the poisoned drink.” He looked at CeeCee and back at Nell. “CeeCee, how does it feel to have your niece be regarded as a person of interest in a homicide investigation?”
This was far worse than poppy seeds in her teeth.
I wondered how Sheraton had figured out who Nell was and made the connection to Robyn Freed. Then I remembered the entertainment report Dinah and I had seen a couple of nights ago. Off camera, Talia must have told him all about Nell and maybe even shown him a photo of her.
I stepped in and reminded him that they were on private property and asked them to leave. I was surprised when the reporter and cameraman did.
Only Adele wasn’t happy with the outcome. The rest of the table gave me a round of applause.
CeeCee sat down with what was becoming a characteristic sigh. “The damage is done, though. Now that they know Nell and I are related, the story is much more interesting.” I went to get CeeCee a party drink after her momentary ordeal. Bob knew that CeeCee was always supposed to be concerned about her diet and offered to use a fancy no-calorie sweetener, but I said I thought CeeCee needed the real thing under the circumstances.
By the time CeeCee had drained half the creamy drink, she’d recovered. “Molly, I don’t mean to pressure you, but now that Pierce Sheraton is going to hang on to this story like a terrier on a pant leg, you really need to step up your investigation and get the spotlight off of Nell.”
I wasn’t sure whose reputation CeeCee was more concerned about—hers or Nell’s—but either way, she was right. I just wasn’t sure how to do it.