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."
Chapter 8
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.
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."
Chapter 8
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.
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