Done to Death by Charles Atkins Page B

coming out.’ Rachel pressed in against her brother.
    Richard looked at Lil, as though just seeing her. ‘What’s the show about?’
    â€˜It’s a twist on the antique appraiser shows.’ She sensed he wasn’t really listening but wanted her to talk as a way of keeping his sister quiet. ‘It’s a little morbid.’
    â€˜I love morbid,’ Rachel said. ‘That’s why they’re filming in the cemetery?’
    â€˜I think so, trying to set the tone. Each week the focus will be on the estate of someone who’s just died. A group of appraisers will come in and compete to settle the estate. At the end they tally it all up − that’s the name of the show.’
    â€˜ Tally it all up ?’ Richard asked, as though he’d tasted something sour.
    â€˜No, it’s called Final Reckoning ,’ Lil said.
    â€˜Huh. It’s not bad,’ he admitted. ‘Certainly better than a lot of the other crap out there.’
    â€˜Oh my!’ Rachel gushed. She gently kicked Richard. ‘This is the pilot. Oh my God, oh my God!’
    Richard stared at his sister, who was pulling at his arm like a child demanding cotton candy at the fair.
    â€˜Richard.’ She was staring up at him, her eyes wide, her smile luminous.
    â€˜No,’ he said without hesitation.
    â€˜It’s perfect. Oh my God! This is fate. I mean what are the chances?’
    â€˜Absolutely not.’
    Rachel turned to Lil. ‘So if this is the pilot, whose estate are they using?’
    Lil felt their focus. Blue eyes and green eyes. She tried to recall from those long ago tabloids whether Lenore had used the same father for her two children. She couldn’t remember. ‘To be honest, I don’t think they’ve gotten that far.’
    â€˜So they need the estate of someone who just died.’ Rachel’s hands flew to her lips. ‘Richard, think about it.’
    â€˜Rachel, please. Don’t. No, absolutely not!’
    â€˜No.’ Her teasing and flirtation were replaced by something hard. ‘Listen to me. And if you can’t listen to me, think about our beloved mother. Everything she did was for the camera. Everything. She filmed our inseminations, brother.’
    Lil shuddered at the memory. It had been groundbreaking and the kind of thing discussed in Bradley’s waiting room. Lenore Parks, the modern woman, taking things into her own hands. And here, some twenty years later, were the products. She looked at them, realizing she’d not a clue as to what kinds of lives these two must have lived, like another species. She couldn’t help but stare, and wonder what was passing between them.
    Rachel was determined. ‘You think she would object to a few of her prized possessions being hauled out for the viewing public? Really? If she were here right now, you know she’d tell you to go ahead and do it.’
    â€˜It’s a bad idea.’ His tone was less certain.
    â€˜The hell it is. Hear me out,’ Rachel said and then, to Lil, ‘I’m not supposed to know about these things, but it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to realize that having our murdered mother’s items come up for sale on a show like this could be a huge ratings grab.’
    Richard stared at her. ‘You’re serious.’ His gaze narrowed. ‘Why?’
    â€˜Call it a whim …’ Her voice trailed, and the corner of her lip turned up. ‘Or maybe a craving. But no, the more I think about it … This isn’t a coincidence, this is happening for a reason. And I’ll tell you something else.’
    Lil felt like an interloper. Yes, any reporter would give their eye teeth for this opportunity. She couldn’t do that, and felt the decent thing would be to leave these two to hash out their differences. But neither had given any sense that her presence was unwanted, as though having strangers view their personal conflicts was