Wake Up to Murder (A Ricki Rydell Mystery Book 2)
Page 5
Ricki’s face burned with anger. “What was that?” One of the crew came up behind her and began taking off her microphone. Another came up on the set with a vacuum. “Those weren’t the questions you gave me. Not one of them. And why would you talk about my career like that?”
“All publicity is good publicity. What kind of talk show did you think this was, anyway?”
“We’re on in three,” someone offstage shouted.
“I don’t know, a nice one.” That same person who took her microphone off, started escorting her off the stage. “If I would’ve known you were going to eviscerate me on live television, I never would’ve agreed to this. Stay tuned, yourself, Taryn.” Ricki stormed off the stage. She yanked the still intact necklace from around her neck and passed it off to Sheila. She grabbed her purse from the makeup area and headed out the studio doors.
She pushed the front door open forcefully and ran straight into Marty.
Seven
Ricki forgot where she was, who she was, and where she was going.
Marty looked as stunned to see her as she was to see him. “Ricki.” He stepped back and covered his mouth with both hands. “What are you—um, why are you—how are—? It’s been a while.”
“Yep.” Nice, Ricki.
“What are you doing here?”
It took a second or five for her brain to kick into gear. “I was humiliated on live television, that’s what I’m doing here.”
“Huh?” Marty swiped through his phone, reading his messages. “Kari never mentioned you were one of the guests.”
“Did she mention the dinner meeting we sort of had?”
He scratched his chin, thick with beard growth. “No, she failed to mention that, too.”
“And what are you doing here?”
“I came to surprise Kari. I was out of cell range and hadn’t spoken to her in a few days.”
“I didn’t mean here, here, I meant here in Somerset county.”
“Kari took a job, obviously. Plus, I grew up here, remember?”
“You have some nerve.”
“Let’s not make this personal, all righty. We have a history. Let’s leave it in the past.”
“It’s kind of hard to do that when she’s here in my hometown.”
“She’s not in your hometown, Ricki. Quit being so dramatic. We’ll stay out of your way if you stay out of ours. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to see Kari.”
Ricki stepped out of the way as Marty walked to the front doors. “She’s not even here. Maybe you should keep her on a shorter leash.”
“What do you mean she’s not here?”
“She never showed up. Someone filled in for her at the last minute.”
Marty turned toward her, the concern in his eyes evident. “Does anyone know where she is? Did anyone bother to call her?”
Ricki took a cue from Marty and let go of her anger. Not once did she think that something bad might have happened to Kari. “No one seems to know. Why? Is everything okay?”
He swiped through his phone again. “The last message I got from her was two days ago. Said she had some meetings and couldn’t wait for me to—never mind that part.”
Ricki could tell he was worried. “Is that normal for her?”
“Not that we have each other on a leash, but we do keep each other informed.” He studied her, but it was like he was looking through her and not at her. “What was this dinner you had?”
“Sort of had. It was a get-to-know-you dinner before the show.”
“When?”
“Late Saturday night. I left abruptly, I mean, early.” Ricki’s face grew hot. “We might have said some things to each other.”
Marty ignored that last part. “Are they still taping?”
“They should be wrapping up by now.”
He turned on his heel and headed inside. Ricki stood on the sidewalk, wondering what to do with herself. She was stuck between wanting to be angry at him for his attitude and wanting to worry for him because Kari was missing. It was hard to hold onto her own personal frustrations when she saw the worry in his eyes. Some things about Marty hadn’t changed, and she knew when something bothered him. His fiancée was missing in action and no one seemed to know where she was. Curious, Ricki sneaked inside the studio, keeping to the shadows so no one would see what she was up to. The double-doors to the studio were opened wide. Marty was huddled together with the two executive producers, Ned and Jim. She hid behind the antique television camera in the lobby. She could see and hear everything from there.
“This is troubling.” Ned had a clipboard tucked under his arm and nibbled on the end of a pen. “We thought, well, I don’t know what we thought.”
“I know Kari. This is out of character for her,” Jim said, trying not to overreact. “She would never think of cutting out without at least calling. We still had to do the show, though, you understand.”
“Of course. She’s been in this business for years and would’ve done the same thing. I just got off the plane and came right here, but maybe she’s at our apartment.” Worry was getting a stronger grip on him. Ricki could see it, especially when he started to rub his forehead—a classic Marty stressing out move. “Except I called and texted. I assumed she was busy.”
“Well, let me ask around again. Maybe someone heard something. Taryn. Sheila. Come here, please.”
Taryn stood laughing and talking with one of the production crew. Sheila had earbuds in and her back to everyone, ignoring Jim entirely. Taryn waltzed over, beaming with the pride of an athlete who had just won the gold medal.
“Congratulations,” Jim said.
She put her hand to her heart and took a couple of deep breaths. “That was scary,” she said. “Never did that before.”
“Ya done good.” He put his arm around her shoulder and drew her close to him. “This is Kari’s fiancée—”
“Marty. I know. Goodness I had…no idea.” She laughed nervously. “I haven’t seen you since high school.”
“Did we go to school together?”
“Yes, we did. Well, not really. I was a sophomore when you were a senior. You didn’t know I existed. I didn’t know you and Kari were…together.”
“You guys can catch up later,” Jim said, impatiently. “When was the last time you saw her? Anything to help this poor fella out.”
“Actually, I never met her. We only spoke over the phone.”
“Well, what did she say?” Marty asked. “Did she seem okay? Scared?”
“Um, let me think. Well, I gave her the details about the dinner meeting with Ricki, told her what time her call was, and that was about it.”
“Where’s Sheila?” Jim asked, snapping his fingers again. How annoying. “Sheila.” He shouted this. “Where did she run off to?”
“She was there a second ago,” Taryn said.
Marty sighed. “That’s all right. I’ll run back to the apartment before I jump to any conclusions. She sometimes takes a sleeping pill and gets the worst hangover the next day. She might still be trying to wake up. I’ll be in touch.”
Ricki ducked behind the old TV camera and watched as Marty raced out of the building, thankfully, not noticing her. She suddenly felt horrible for the way she talked about Kari and the way she treated Marty.
Distracted by her worry for Marty, Ricki came out from her hiding spot unaware that Taryn was standing there watching her.
“I thought you left,” she said, all innocent-like. How quickly she moved on from that morning’s disaster.
Ricki turned to face her. “I’m still not talking to you.”
“Oh, come on. It’s only the first show. We probably had a total of ten people watching, despite Ned’s extensive publicity campaign.”
“If it was so extensive, what makes you think only ten people watched? My family and friends know.”
“Okay, so fifteen people watched. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” She forced a laugh. “It’s been a disaster from the beginning, anyway. N
othing seemed to go right. This morning was just the rotten cherry on the fallen cake of my dreams.”
“That’s not what it sounded like in there.”
“Were you spying?”
“No.” Well, yes, she was, but Taryn didn’t need to know that. A quick change of subject was in order. “And another thing. Why would you set up a dinner meeting with Kari?”
Taryn’s eyes darted back and forth. “It was her idea, not mine. Besides, what does that have to do with anything?”
Evidently, Taryn didn’t know Marty and Ricki were once a couple. Her confusion was genuine; she wasn’t playing dumb. “Nothing. Never mind.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to boost ratings. We live in an outrage and scandal obsessed society. People eat this stuff up.”
“Yeah, but this is my career we’re talking about. I’ve pretty much avoided scandal up to this point in my life, and I’d like to keep it that way, thank you very much.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it. This show may fail before it even gets off the ground. Go have yourself a stiff drink. You’ll feel better in no time.”
“I don’t drink.”
“Eat some ice cream, then.”
Actually, that didn’t sound half bad. She could stop at the store before running home to hide.
“It has been a long day already, and it’s not even noon yet.” Under all that makeup, Taryn looked worn out. “If you don’t need to yell at me for anything else, I’d like to wash my face before I break out.”
“Just one more thing. Did Kari ever make it to the studio?”
“What do you mean?”
“It sounded like she was hired on the spur of the moment is all. Just wondered if she ever had a chance to set up her dressing room with personal things, like clothes, makeup, books.”
“I have no idea.” She laughed nervously. Ricki was picking up that Taryn did this when she was trying to repress her anger. “For some reason, I was left out of the loop on just about everything. I guess that’s what happens when you’re busy putting a show together. Anyway, gotta run. Talk to you later.”
Ricki waited for Taryn to slip into the bathroom before dashing across the studio to peek in Kari’s dressing room. The production crew were huddled around the production assistant and the stage manager, getting notes on their mistakes and what they could do better for tomorrow’s show. No one noticed her. She opened the door with Kari’s name on it and closed it softly, flicking the light on. With the crew busy, and Taryn and the producers pre-occupied, Ricki could be in and out in no time at all.
Kari’s dressing room looked unlived in. It had the usual unimportant things: bottles of water, a fruit basket (unopened), flowers (probably a bunch from Marty with cards saying break a leg or whatever one says for talk show hosts), and a sink surrounded by toiletries still in their wrappers. They were definitely expecting her to show up, but by the looks of things, she never made it.
Marty was away and out of cell range. Kari just moved here from Chicago and didn’t know anyone. Taryn only talked with her on the phone. Jim said he had known her for years. Ned, nothing.
Ricki had sleeping pill hangovers before and functioned mostly all right. She put toothpaste in her hair instead of smoothing cream once, but that was the worst thing that happened. Maybe she was letting her imagination get the better of her, but something was most certainly rotten in the state of Denmark.
Eight
This would have been where Ricki hid under the covers for a week after such a humiliating experience. If she believed Taryn, she had nothing to worry about as no one had seen the show. Sure, it was only a regional show, and Ricki only gave a heads-up to her local fans on her Facebook page, so there was a good chance that what Taryn had said was true. But it didn’t matter who had or hadn’t seen the show. She wasn’t going to resort to old habits when faced with a tough situation. She was going to face it with shoulders pulled back, chin up, and head held high. She was going to prove Marty and Kari wrong.
That morning she had woke to a heavy frost on the ground, but she wasn’t going to let that deter her from taking Rumpus for a small hike later. He sensed something was up and stared at Ricki with eager eyes, wagging his tail, waiting for the adventure to begin. Becca couldn’t make it, so it was only going to be her and her dog. She was more than okay with that, though. It would give her a chance to clear her head of the disastrous talk show, Marty’s painful attitude toward her, and the fact that his fiancée was now missing. A natural worrier, Ricki feared for Kari’s safety, even if she was practically a total stranger to her. But only for Marty’s sake. The look of love, the look of concern, the look of worry filled his eyes so completely that Ricki knew without a doubt that there was no more room in his heart for her. Maybe he did find the love of his life. Even if it was painful to admit, she was happy for him.
As she waited for the sun to warm the earth and melt the frost, Ricki enjoyed a lazy morning of coffee and a big breakfast, with some extra scrambled eggs set aside for Rumpus. And because she was enjoying her morning leisure, someone rang the doorbell. With a mouthful of eggs, Rumpus tried to bark and eat at the same time. He was torn between being a good watchdog and satisfying his primal need for sustenance. Once he inhaled the last of the eggs, he raced to the door like a good boy.
She peeled the curtain back and saw her parents standing on the porch. Her mother, Thea, had a pie in her hands. Unless something happened that she didn’t know about, Ricki had no idea why her mother would show up at her house carrying a pie.
“Hey, guys.” Ricki held the door open for them as they waltzed inside. “You brought pie, I see. What’s the occasion? I’m not sick or injured.”
Ricki took the pie as her father helped her mother off with her coat.
“No occasion,” Thea said, tugging on her earlobe. “We only wanted to see how you were.”
“We got tired of looking at each other,” Andy said, swinging his arms to the front and to the back repeatedly.
As a writer, Ricki had to be familiar with body language. It also helped that she knew the subjects in question, making it easier to spot a lie. Her parents weren’t good at lying and had these quirks that gave them away all the time. Her mother’s ear tug. Her father’s swinging his hands back and forth. All signs they were telling little white lies. Not wanting to be rude, especially because her mother brought pie, Ricki let it slide, figuring it would come out in the open sooner or later if she couldn’t figure it out for herself first.
“Should I put on a new pot of coffee to go along with this pie?” Ricki headed toward the kitchen, Rumpus following closely behind, and placed the banana cream in the middle of the table. The banana cream was another dead giveaway. Banana cream was Ricki’s favorite, and this could only mean one thing: they had seen the show. She wasn’t going to bring it up to them. If they had anything to say, they would have to initiate the conversation because she certainly wasn’t going to broach the subject. But now that they were there, it made her realize that maybe the interview was worse than she thought. It certainly looked bad from where she sat, but if her parents thought she bombed, she really bombed. Her parents supported her in just about everything she did, even if it was something as simple as a second-grade painting of an angel that looked oddly like a frog sitting on a rock. That strong front she put up earlier was now beginning to weaken when she looked in her parent’s eyes and saw a hint of disappointment.
“Coffee would be nice.” Thea got comfortable at the table, trying to keep Rumpus from climbing on the chair to get to the pie. “I’m going to put this in the refrigerator so he doesn’t eat it.”
“That’s a good idea. He loves banana cream as much as I do.” Ricki absentmindedly scooped coffee into the filter before she realized she had filled the entire basket with grounds. Hoping her parents weren’t looking, she emptied some of it back into the container. “What do you think of reservations at Hilltop Inn for your anniversary dinner?”
Andy grabbed two cup
s out of the cupboard, filled them with hot water to warm the mugs, and placed them next to the coffee maker. “Don’t go through all that trouble just for us.”
“Too late. We have reservations on the day of your anniversary. That’s all I could get. Because the fall colors are so vibrant this year, it’s hard to get reservations.” Instantly, Ricki questioned how Taryn was able to get reservations on a Saturday night for her and Kari. Unless Taryn had connections she didn’t know about, Ricki knew it was virtually impossible to get in on such short notice, and she knew the manager. “I’ve printed out a copy of their menu for the night so you can pick your meal ahead of time. I know how hard it is for Dad to choose.” She winked at her father but handed the menu to her mother.
“I hope you aren’t doing more than treating us to dinner,” Thea said, putting her reading glasses on to scan the menu.
“Oh, you’ll just have to wait and see.” Just then, the doorbell rang. Again. Two times in one morning made Ricki suspicious. Was the show that bad that now Becca and her daughter trekked all the way over to her house? And after she had said she couldn’t get away to go hiking with Ricki? “You’re just in time for pie and coffee.”
“Pie, no coffee.” Becca had turned into a bag lady—a diaper bag lady—and dropped everything on the floor by the door. “You’re in a good mood, considering.”
Thea and Andy coughed loudly from the kitchen. Real subtle. Ricki refused to take the bait just yet. She wasn’t going to beg them to talk about such a cringe-worthy subject.
“Let me take Megan while you get comfortable.” Megan’s toothless, slobbery smile was so infectious that Ricki forgot all her worries. “Hello, sweetie. How are you?” Megan’s only response was a super-soggy raspberry right in Ricki’s face. She wiped her face on her sleeve and carried Megan to the kitchen to show her off to her parents.
The hugs and kisses were interrupted by the doorbell ringing again. Becca yelled that she’d answer the door since she was standing right by it. “Come on in, Chris.”