“Sorry for ruining dinner.” He faked a laugh. “Such lighthearted conversation.”
It was hard to listen to, but Ricki appreciated it. Once he was gone, she would have herself a little pity party for the relationship she lost, but she wouldn’t stay long. There was a murder to solve, a killer to find, and an alibi to create. Although, that last part was never going to happen. “Would it be inappropriate if I asked what she looked like?”
“Who, Michelle?” Ricki nodded. “Well, I don’t know if it’s inappropriate, but I don’t see why you want to know.”
“You never know. My brain is just whirling with ideas and thoughts, trying to make connections.”
“You’re really into this detective work, aren’t you?”
“I am, so could you answer the question, please.”
“Yes, ma’am. Let’s see. Her hair was always changing color. When I met her it was cobalt-blue. The last time I saw her, it was cherry red. She was about your height, petite in size.”
“Her eyes?”
“She had very distinctive eyes. They were, what do you call that, doe eyes? To be honest, I don’t even know what her eye color was. She was always wearing colored contacts, not for corrective purposes. She wore them because she was an artiste expressing her individuality, she would say.”
The way Marty said that made Ricki want to throw her head back and laugh. She hated people like that. Even writers.
“What’s more, I couldn’t even describe her skin. I mean, she was white, but sometimes she had a fake tan other times she was pasty pale. It was like she couldn’t make up her mind what she wanted to be or look like or who she wanted to be.”
“Did you say she was an artist?”
“A very good one at that. It was like she used her body as a canvas.”
“Sort of like a chameleon.”
Marty turned to Ricki sharply. “Exactly. You summed it up so perfectly. She was a chameleon.”
Ricki smiled to herself. Things were starting to make sense. “Did you know Taryn Wilkes?”
“The girl at the studio? She was a couple of years behind me, in your graduating class, right?”
“That’s her.”
“I had forgotten all about her until I ran into her at the studio.”
“That’s Taryn for ya.”
“At my last high school reunion, someone told me she had a crush on me.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, hard to imagine. Anyway, if you’re still offering coffee, I could sure use a cup.”
“Sure.” Ricki took the plates away while Marty put the leftovers in containers and put them in the refrigerator. Her kitchen wasn’t that big, so bumping into each other was becoming an uncomfortable problem. It felt like old times, though. Memories of cooking and eating together, feeding each other—all done in this kitchen. The memories were so vivid and happy, but they were now tucked away someplace where they would only bring a smile to her face instead of a tear to her eye. They were back to being friends. She was okay with that, even if it took her a few years to get there. She was grateful that he opened up to her about what happened to him. It broke her heart to think he had to endure that.
“Coffee is brewing. Rumpus is stuffed and happy.”
Ricki turned around and ran straight into Marty. She didn’t move. He didn’t move. She gazed up into his eyes, feeling her heart swelling with love and compassion for this man. She embraced him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and cried on her shoulder.
“Everything’s going to be okay.”
“It doesn’t feel that way.”
“I’m going to find who did this to her.”
“I believe you.”
While Marty released his emotions, Ricki’s brain swirled with activity. She was getting closer to finding the missing piece to this crazy puzzle. But instead of one piece, there were now two pieces she needed to find.
Twenty-two
Taryn sent Ricki a list of potential interview questions the night before she was to go on the show, like really late at night, like eleven o’clock late at night. In the email, she stated that Jim made her promise not to “rake her over the coals” like she had done the first time around. The tone of the email was short and to the point, making Ricki think Taryn was doing this reluctantly. The questions were pretty run-of-the-mill interview questions for a writer, the same ones Kari was set to ask before she met an untimely demise. Since she had already rehearsed these questions with Becca, she was prepared, but this time around, she was going to be ready if Taryn decided to go off script. Maybe, if given the chance, she could take Taryn by surprise and ask where she was on the night Ricki was pushed over the railing. On live TV.
She took some comfort in the fact that Steve was working on her behalf to keep her out of trouble. That still didn’t settle the not so minor detail of not having an alibi. With Steve leaving within a week, she had to find the murderer or she could end up with a homicide detective who didn’t have a history with her and was less sympathetic to her situation. The new guy might take one look at all the mounting evidence against Ricki and arrest her on suspicion.
With all those thoughts and fears running through her head, Ricki managed to get a few hours of sleep. A cold shower woke her up. A few cups of coffee made her even more nervous, and Ricki was an expert level coffee drinker. She arrived at the studio eager to get this interview started.
Inside the television station, things were calm—a sharp contrast to the day of the first show she had done. No one was arguing or scrambling to find a missing host or wondering how they were going to go on. Muzak played over the speakers in the lobby. The lobby had undergone some changes since her last visit. A large desk now sat in the middle of the small room directly in front of the double-doors to the studio. It looked like Taryn was getting that administrative assistant she had asked for.
As Ricki hung her coat by the door, Jim rushed out of his office. “Good, you’re here. A little early, but I’m glad you made it. Feeling good? Ready to go?”
“A little nervous, as usual. How are things here?”
“Sane.” He let out a hearty chuckle, almost sounding forced. “It’s the first time it’s felt that way since we started this…” He waved his hand dismissively. “Have you met with Taryn yet?”
“Just walked in the door, but please tell me she’s here.”
“She is. Somewhere. I saw her getting coffee a few minutes ago. I just wanted to make sure you guys were on the same page.” Jim folded his arms across his chest. “Maybe I shouldn’t bring this up now, since you’ll be going live soon, but I want to prevent another disaster.”
“You’ve piqued my curiosity. What kind of disaster?”
“Is there any particular reason why Taryn fought me on having you on the show again?”
“You’re right. You shouldn’t have brought it up now.” That kind of hit Ricki between the eyes. She had no idea that Taryn felt so strongly about her. It wasn’t as if Ricki bullied her in high school and publicly humiliating her was Taryn’s form of revenge. But Marty did say Taryn had a crush on him in high school. Ricki and Marty didn’t get together until much later, so it couldn’t be romantic jealousy. In fact, she had no idea why Taryn didn’t care for her. It occurred to her that Jim might have been stirring up trouble of his own to get a rise out of her. For the ratings. For the drama. She wasn’t going to fall for it and kept it simple. She was only there to salvage her reputation and to ask questions. “Maybe she doesn’t want to rehash an old situation. Who knows?”
“I’ll try to keep things running as smoothly as possible. Now, if you’ll excuse me. Just head on over to hair and makeup and Sheila will get you situated.”
Where was Ned? He was never around when she wanted someone to question. Sheila might know. She was eager to share her feelings the last time they spoke. Maybe this was a good time to pick her brain to see what was going on inside that skull of hers. After what Jim told her what Taryn said about her, Ricki felt she needed
to get a few things off her own chest. She gave a quick shake of her head. What was this place, anyway? How old were these people? Because she was beginning to feel like a teenager sitting in the cafeteria as frenemies picked each other apart.
She found Sheila in the makeup area, laying out her brushes and sorting through her makeup kit. “Ricki Rydell, welcome back.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“I saw your reflection in the mirror. Are you ready for me already?”
“Whenever. It looks like you’re busy setting things up, so I can wait until you’re done. I can sit here and talk with you, if you like.” Ricki wasn’t good at small talk. Every time she tried to carry on a conversation, she’d start rambling about dumb stuff. But this was for the investigation. She’d have to fake it.
“If you want to sit there and watch me do this boring thing, it doesn’t bother me.”
“I don’t want to disturb you. I mean, I could go brush my teeth. Just had coffee and a pastry with slivers of almonds on it. With my luck, I probably have a nice chunk of it stuck in my teeth. That would look really nice on high definition camera. I’m rambling.” She twiddled her thumbs, thinking of ways to get Sheila to open up. Maybe talk about makeup. “Do you know how you used the natural looking false eyelashes on me? Could we try something a little more dramatic this time?”
Sheila stood face-to-face with Ricki and stared into her eyes, studying them before looking down at the cast on her wrist. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“Oh, this? I slipped in my yard when walking my dog.”
The corner of Sheila’s mouth twitched. “Looks painful. I could use a set of small lashes. They’ll look natural but still make your eyes pop. I can make them dramatic enough without going too crazy.”
“Oh, goody. I was never into makeup when I was a teenager, so I like to play dress-up every once in a while. It’s fun getting pampered.”
“I’m sure.”
“How long have you been a makeup artist?”
Sheila shrugged. “It’s been so long, I can’t remember.”
“The last time I spoke with you, you didn’t sound too happy. How are you doing now?”
“They don’t fight as much, but, between you and me, I’ve been offered another job someplace else, and I just might take it.”
“That sounds exciting.” Ricki pulled her hair back in a ponytail so Sheila could put her foundation on. “So where is this exciting new job?”
“Someplace I’ve always wanted to go: Los Angeles. It’s always been out of reach for me. Artistic professions usually don’t pay enough to give you the freedom to move around.”
On that remark, Ricki kept her mouth shut. She was one of the lucky few who actually made a living off of her artistic endeavors, and she never liked to rub that fact in anyone’s face. “Are you going to work in the movie business?”
“Yes. I would like to apprentice as a special effects artist if possible. I’ll take whatever I can get right now.” Sheila dabbed foundation on Ricki’s face with a sponge before smoothing it out with a brush. “Has anyone ever told you you have beautiful skin?”
“Only my mother. Of course, she thinks everything I do is beautiful and wonderful and great. You know how mothers are.”
“Actually, I don’t. I lost mine when I was a little girl.”
“I’m so sorry. Forgive me for saying something so insensitive.”
“No worries. It’s not like you knew.”
“Have you told anyone you’re going to leave yet?”
“Not a soul.”
“I guess I should stop asking you about it, in case someone is listening.”
“Look down.” Sheila dipped a sharply tipped brush into a pot of liquid eyeliner before applying it to Ricki’s top lid. “Even though I’m putting lashes on you, this line will give your eyes more depth. Sound good?”
“You’re the expert. Do you wear false eyelashes? Because your eyes pop, as you say. What color are your eyes anyway? I don’t know that I’ve ever seen that color before.”
“My eyes are light green. You can thank my father for that. Thank you for the compliment, by the way.”
Just then, Taryn waltzed over, looking a lot less frazzled than the last time she spoke with her. She painted on a smile and said hello to Ricki.
“Jim said things are picking up around here.” Ricki tried not to let the supposed antagonism Taryn felt for her get in the way of being polite. “That’s good news.”
“It is. Are you ready?” She may have looked friendly, but her attitude was not. “We have another guest on right after you, so your interview will probably last ten minutes. I just wanted to pop in quickly and touch base with you. Don’t wear a bracelet this time.”
Ricki held her left arm in the air. “I have this, and it’s not going anywhere.”
“Oh my. What happened?”
Like Taryn didn’t know. “I tripped.”
“You must have hit the ground hard.”
“You could say that.”
“If you’re that nervous, worry the seam of your pants or something,” Sheila said.
“Leave her to me. It’s not your job. See you on set, Ricki. Good luck.”
As soon as she was sure Taryn was out of earshot, Ricki said: “What’s up her butt?”
Sheila laughed again. “You tell me. Why does she hate you so bad?”
When Jim insinuated that Taryn hated Ricki, she thought he was doing it to stir up controversy. But when Sheila said it, it sounded like malicious gossip. Play dumb, Ricki. “Does she? I never did anything to her, not that I’m aware of, at least. Did she say anything to you?”
“Maybe she’s jealous of your success. Because…” Sheila drew close to Ricki and whispered, “she’s been struggling to make a career of this for years, but you didn’t hear that from me.”
“But what does that have to do with me? And why is she so mean to you?”
“She’s mean to everyone. I don’t know if it’s the stress or if she’s just that way all the time. I blow it off. People like her don’t scare me. Besides, I can give it back threefold. Okay, you’re all done. How do you like your lashes?” Sheila moved out of the way so Ricki could get closer to the lighted mirror. “See how they make your eyes look fuller without making them look heavy?”
“Amazing. I’m going to have to keep that in mind the next time I want to wear them. I’ll have to practice putting them on until I get the hang of it, of course. Thanks again for making me look beautiful.”
“My pleasure. You have at least twenty minutes before the show starts. There are coffee and doughnuts in the green room. I was heading over to help myself. I’ll walk with you, if you like.”
Ricki stuck close to Sheila, admiring the smooth way she interacted with her surroundings. Most of the time, Ricki felt like a klutz. Even if she wasn’t really clumsy, it’s how she felt about herself. She always admired people who were comfortable in any given situation. Maybe it was an act. Maybe Ricki missed that day of school where they taught you how to fake it until you could make it.
“There’s also champagne and orange juice if you’d like to make yourself a mimosa.” Sheila helped herself to two chocolate glazed doughnuts and a cup of coffee. “Anyway, I have to get the next guest ready. So, I probably won’t see you again. It was nice knowing you, Ricki Rydell.”
“Good luck, Sheila. I never did catch your last name.”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
Ricki found herself alone in the green room, without anyone or anything to distract her. Her nerves started to set in, especially knowing that Taryn didn’t like her. She only had a few more minutes to dwell upon the past, searching for memories from high school. She couldn’t think of any time where she hurt, insulted, or bullied Taryn. The only class that Ricki outshone everyone was English. She never won an award except for writing contests. She never stood out in gym class or took part in the debate team or tried out for cheerleader or anything like that. She never even did t
heatre, so why Taryn would feel this antagonism toward her, puzzled her. Knowing she had to go out and talk with her with this in the back of her mind, didn’t ease her nerves in the slightest. But maybe this was what Jim secretly wanted and Sheila’s two cents just made those thoughts fester even more. She couldn’t wait to get this over with.
“Ready in five – four – three – two – go, Taryn.”
“Wake up, Somerset! Thank you once again for inviting us into your living room and on your mobile device. Think of us as your morning cup of coffee or your morning news. We’ve got a great show for you today.”
Ricki sat off to the side, knowing the camera wasn’t on her just yet, listening as Taryn rattled off local bits of interest and upcoming events. There was something about her being in front of the camera that transformed her into someone else completely. Sort of like a chameleon.
“I’m happy to have back on the show, Ricki Rydell. As you know, she is the author of the Wild Hearts series and a native of Unionville, known for its quaint shopping district and its proximity to the wine country along Lake Somerset. She is joining us again today to talk about the release of her latest book and her future projects. I know this sounds familiar, but we wanted to touch base with her because she is a favorite of ours.”
Ricki tried not to roll her eyes.
“So, please welcome Ricki Rydell once again.”
A small audience in the studio began clapping furiously. It was probably close to twenty people, mostly crew. This was new. The audience added something to the show. More energy, perhaps? Ricki spied Jim and Ned and Sheila and a few others she had seen flitting about the studio, standing in the sidelines. “Thanks for having me on again, Taryn. It’s good to be here.”
“So, we never got the chance to talk about your latest book in depth on your last visit. What’s it about?”
“It’s the latest book in my family saga, Wild Hearts.” Ricki went into detail about the series, summing up what had been happening over the last ten books. “Things are really heating up for my hero and heroine, not to mention all of the family drama is coming to a head.”
Wake Up to Murder (A Ricki Rydell Mystery Book 2) Page 15
