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  CeeCee turned to me. “Molly, I’m worried. I don’t think she should go alone. I’d go with her, but it would probably get picked up by some paparazzi. So far the news people don’t seem to know the connection between us. If they knew Nell and I were related, it would just bring more of a spotlight to this whole business.”

  It was hard to figure out who she was really concerned about. Was she worried her name was going to bring attention to Nell? Or was she worried that having a niece suspected in a murder was going to bring the wrong kind of attention to her?

  “I’m available to go with,” Adele said a little too quickly. CeeCee’s eyes flew skyward.

  “You caused enough trouble the last time. I want someone to guide my niece, not make a ruckus.”

  “I wouldn’t make a ruckus,” Adele protested. “Maybe a hook and some yarn would fall out of my pocket. And maybe I’d mention to whoever that it would really turn around Barbara’s life if she learned how to crochet.”

  “That is exactly what I’m afraid of,” CeeCee said. “Dear, you’re going to have to wave your hook on your own time; this trip is strictly about my niece.” She turned to me. “Molly, would you go with her? You’re a mother; you must be used to doing things like this.”

  The idea seemed to be that since I had experience dealing with uncomfortable situations, it was easy for me. I agreed to go with her but made sure CeeCee understood it wasn’t going to be piece of cake for me, either.

  “And while you’re there, maybe you do a little investigating,” CeeCee said. “You’re so good at getting at the truth,” she added in a hopeful voice.

  Though CeeCee seemed relieved I was going with Nell, she still seemed less than her usual cheery self. “This isn’t what I bargained for,” she said finally. “I thought having Nell stay with me would be like having a daughter. But without all the baggage like arguing about clothes and curfews. I thought we’d be like friends.” She turned to me. “Were you ever upset with your sons?”

  I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Of course, do you want examples?”

  She seemed slightly relieved by my answer. “She’s just so difficult.” CeeCee went back to crocheting while she talked. “Why couldn’t she have gotten along with the woman who died? I didn’t know what to tell her or what to do to help. When I was a struggling actress, if a director yelled at me, I just smiled back. I knew there was a whole line behind me anxious to take my place.” Then the truth came out. “I should be basking in the glow of my Oscar buzz instead of worrying about Nell.”

  She must have felt guilty about what she said because she got defensive and tried to explain just what Oscar buzz meant. “My agent is already getting more movie offers. Nothing I’d do so far, but it wasn’t like this before. This is my moment.” She sagged again. “What am I going to tell my brother? His daughter stays with me, and after just a few months, she’s an interesting person to the police.”

  “That’s a person of interest,” Rhoda corrected as she joined us.

  Elise was with her. “Your niece is a suspect?”

  “Wow, wait till that hits the newsstand,” Rhoda said in her nasally voice. “Oscar buzz and your niece being investigated by the cops.”

  “It’s not going to hit any newsstand. And she’s not being investigated by the cops. She was there and they asked her some questions, that’s all. And nobody is going to connect me with any of it.”

  The rest of the group drifted in, and by the end, CeeCee was telling everyone I was going with Nell, was investigating the murder, and had everything under control.

  If only that was true.

  CHAPTER 8

  NELL PICKED ME UP THE NEXT MORNING, AND WE headed across the Valley to the Wolf Brothers Studio and the Barbara Olive Overton production offices. I think she was glad I came along, thought it was hard to tell for sure. The first thing she’d said when I got in the car was, “You don’t need to come. I’m not a baby.”

  She was dressed in what seemed like a uniform for production assistants—worn jeans, a burgundy red tee shirt with a long-sleeved black flannel shirt layered over it. She had sneakers on her feet and a black-and-white bandana tied over her long brown hair, along with no makeup. As she drove, Nell kept telling me everyone was overreacting. “I’m not a person of interest or a suspect. How could I be? I had nothing to do with it.” I didn’t want to tell her that what she was saying was pretty much what most suspects said. Not that I believed she’d poisoned the sweetener, but I knew if she gave the “I had nothing to do with it” argument to the cops, it was likely to fall on deaf ears.

  I took the opportunity to ask her a few questions about the sweetener. Where was it kept? Who knew it was there? How did Robyn get along with other people on the production staff? Nell fumed at first, but I explained I was on her side and she finally opened up.

  “Robyn seemed to really have it in for me, but she was hard on all the production assistants. I think she figured she’d gone through it when she was a PA and now it was her turn to dish it out,” Nell said as we neared the studio entrance. “I just grabbed a packet out of her desk drawer. They’re shaped kind of weird, kind of like a pyramid. Robyn made such a big deal about only using Nature’s Sweetie. I think it was because it came from some plant grown in the Amazon and you can’t just buy it at any grocery store.” Nell shrugged. “The one I grabbed looked like all the others.”

  Nell pulled into the driveway that led to the guard house and entrance. This felt more familiar to me. When I’d gone to any tapings with Charlie, we’d always parked inside the gated area and gone in through the backstage entrance. Nell slowed long enough to let the guard see her parking emblem hanging from the mirror and prepared to glide through, but he held his hand up for her to stop.

  She did as requested and opened her window. “Hi, Hank,” she said to the uniformed guard. “What’s up?”

  He muttered, “Sorry, miss,” as he reached in through the open window and took the dangling parking emblem. “Here’s a temporary one for today,” he said, writing the date on a card and handing it to her. “Hang it on your mirror.”

  Nell started to protest, but he just put up his hands in a helpless gesture and said again that he was sorry. “It’s probably just standard policy, like if you go on vacation or something, that they take back your parking pass,” Nell said to me.

  I just nodded in agreement. Of course, I knew it wasn’t true at all, but why make her feel worse. BOO productions had their own building within the Wolf Studio grounds. She parked close to the warehouselike building, and I followed her as she walked to a door on the side. She swiped a card and the door opened. Inside, there was a uniformed security woman sitting at a desk reading a book.

  “She’s with me,” Nell said, jerking her thumb in my direction as we walked past. The woman set down the book and came from behind the desk, stopping our progress.

  “Just hold on a moment,” she said in a friendly voice tinged with authority. She made a call on her walkie-talkie. Nell was ready to protest, but I gave her a discreet shake of my head to discourage her. Of course they weren’t going to let her wander around unescorted. A few moments later, a tall woman with short, dark hair approached us. She was only a few years older than Nell, but there was light-years of difference in their expressions and their clothes. Nell looked like she was dressed to go out and play. The woman’s clothes were what I’d call business casual. She wore black jeans, a white collared shirt not tucked in and topped with a jacket. Several layers of necklaces adorned her neck and a stack of silver bangles jangled on her wrist. I recognized Talia Canon immediately from the entertainment news show the night before, though I didn’t let on.

  Nell greeted her and she responded with what seemed like forced friendliness. She looked at me, and I started to introduce myself, but she interrupted. “Are you a lawyer?”

  “No, she’s not a lawyer,” Nell said vehemently. “Why would I have a lawyer? I didn’t do anything. Her name’s Molly Pink and she’s a friend of my—�
�� She had an awkward moment and instead of adding aunt, slid the my into mine.

  Talia gave me a dismissive nod in recognition. In person, Talia’s features were even sharper and more foxlike and there was a hardness to the set of her mouth.

  As we began walking down the utilitarian corridor, Nell explained that Talia was an assistant producer, but Talia cleared her throat, and with a sideways glance, corrected her. “I was an assistant producer, but now I’m taking over for Robyn.” She must have realized she sounded a little too pleased about it and dropped her voice with a serious expression. “At least for now. Robyn was in the middle of working on several shows and they asked me to step in and take over for those.”

  We passed a series of dressing rooms. Names had been written on placards and slid into holders on the doors. At the end of the corridor, we passed through a door and came out into a reception area. There was a door to the parking lot and a counter with a man and woman close to Nell’s age and experience behind it. The glass door to the outside opened and a man came in with a shopping bag and some boxes. “Who are these for?” the woman asked, picking up a clipboard. The delivery guy had already started to leave but came back and picked up each of the packages and read off the names on them.

  “I might as well deliver them,” Nell said, reaching for the shopping bag. The couple behind the counter and Talia all froze and traded glances.

  “No, they have it covered.” Talia took the handle of the bag out of Nell’s grasp and set it down before giving us an impatient wave to follow her as she crossed the lobby. A door on the other side led to the production offices. The corridor was identical to the one on the other side, but instead of dressing rooms, there were small offices on either side. Talia stopped in an open doorway. My eye went right to the remnant of yellow crime scene tape stuck to the door handle. The door had a name holder just the way the dressing room side had, but it appeared more permanent. The “Robyn Freed” sign had been made by some kind of machine instead of scribbled in marker. Above it, a cardboard strip had been taped with “Talia Canon” written in. It was pretty clear that the show went on no matter what.

  “When they say leave of absence,” Nell said, “how long do you think they mean? Like maybe a few days but not more than a couple of weeks, right?” Talia didn’t respond but had us step into her office. I took the opportunity to look around, knowing this was probably going to be my only chance. Though between whatever the cops had taken and the fact that Talia seemed to have settled right in, I doubted there would be much to see. I noticed a brown cardboard box full of stuff in the corner. I wasn’t sure if the contents were on the way in or the way out.

  The Average Joe’s Guide to Criminal Investigation said that investigating was really about talking to people. Though Talia was acting distant and cold, I figured she had a softer side somewhere. I’d found the best way to get through to even the toughest person was by being sympathetic.

  “This must be hard for you,” I said to her in a friendly voice. “You must have mixed feelings. Happy for the promotion, but sad how it came about. Is that the dead woman’s stuff?” I vaguely pointed in the direction of the box.

  Talia regarded me with interest as her expression opened a crack. “You’ve got that right,” she said. “I’ve been afraid to seem at all excited about my new position for fear people would take it wrong.” She was just talking to me now and seemed grateful to be able to express her feelings, though her version of soft was closer to hard than I’d hoped. “I mean, this is my big chance. I’ve had to step right in, but you have no idea how Robyn left things. There are just cryptic notes for the two shows she was working on. She kept everything under wraps.”

  “It sounds like she was trying to protect her job,” I said, and Talia threw me a shrug, as if to say whatever. I wondered if Talia realized that she sounded more annoyed with Robyn than upset that she was dead. She gestured toward the box and finally acknowledged my question. “Yes, that’s Robyn’s stuff. I barely had time to clear her things out of my desk.”

  “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 col
umns 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.