Ella looked my way.
And Greer Henson jumped in with both feet. “So, Ms. Martin, where do we get started?”
It was my moment to shine, and I wished I was better prepared. I also wished that Jefferson Lamar hadn’t picked that particular second to pop back onto the scene.
“What about me?” he asked. He was standing just beyond Greer. “What about my problem?”
“I’ll look into it.”
“Say what?” Greer turned eyes the color of a porpoise my way. “You’ll look into it? Into what? Into telling me where we need to start filming? I don’t think so.” Her voice was singsongy. “Let’s get one thing straight from the start: I don’t mess around. That’s not what gets a producer noticed. So we’re not going to waste precious minutes, or precious daylight, or precious brain cells. Not my precious brain cells, anyway.”
“You promise?” Lamar’s question overlapped with Greer’s whining so I didn’t have a chance to answer.
He wasn’t about to let me off so easy. “And you’ll find out I’m really innocent, won’t you?”
“We’re getting ahead of ourselves here.” I was talking to Lamar. Good thing it was one of those all-purpose comments. Because I sounded like I actually knew what I was talking about, everybody on my team, along with Greer, Ella, and Jim, looked my way.
“We just need a couple minutes to get organized,” I said. “So why don’t you-” I turned toward Greer who obviously didn’t like to be told what to do. Maybe that’s part of a producer’s job description. I can’t say, seeing that I’d never met a producer before. I did know that when she scrunched up her nose and pinched her lips together, she looked a whole lot like one of those garden gnomes. Not the cute ones, either.
“Why don’t you get your cameras or your camera crew or whatever out of your truck,” I told her. “I’m going to get together with the team here and plan a little strategy. By the time you’re back, we’ll be ready to roll.”
Two minutes with this babe and already I knew she wasn’t going to like it when I was right. And let’s face it, I’m right a lot of the time.
With a tight smile on her puffy face, she headed to the van.
“So…” This time, I glanced at Ella. “What’s the plan?”
“Well, there isn’t one. Not really. The only plan is that you act naturally and do what you need to do. That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” Ella wound a finger through the beads around her neck. “It’s all supposed to be natural and unscripted. You know, like real reality TV.”
I kept my opinions to myself. If I was the team captain, I’d better start acting like it. For the TV cameras and so that Bianca would know I had what it took to be management material. “I’m thinking when they start filming, my team should be on its way over to that section where we’re going to work,” I said, waving Mae Tannager and the rest of them over. “That will show how organized we are, right? It’ll be one of those-what do you call them?-action scenes. Or maybe we should have a meeting first? In the limo?” I was already on my way over there. “The team about to encounter its first challenge, discussing, planning, strategizing. What do you think, ladies?”
All the team members looked at each other uncertainly, but it was Mae Tannager who spoke up. “I think you’ve got this all wrong, young lady.”
I stopped in my tracks and looked at Ella, a question in my eyes.
She scooted over, grabbed me, and dragged me aside. “This is Team Number One, and Mae’s the captain,” she said in a harsh whisper. “Mae’s always in charge of whatever committee she’s on.”
“Oh. Of course.” It wasn’t fair, but I understood. Mae had the bucks, and money talks. “I’m just a team member, but I’m the one with the cemetery expertise. Sure. Right.” I actually liked the idea of relinquishing the in-charge responsibility, so my smile was genuine when I started back to where my team waited. “So, Mrs. Tannager, what do you think for a first shot? Limo? Tent? Or should we be marching off to our section to get right to work?”
“Uh, Pepper.” I didn’t know Ella was right behind me until she tugged on my sleeve.
I excused myself with a smile. The moment I turned around, I was face-to-face with Jefferson Lamar.
Believe me, I know what happens when the living come in contact with ghosts. They freeze up like Popsicles. Been there, done that. Wasn’t going to risk it again.
I jumped back.
“Do you promise you’ll help?” he asked.
I was caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place.
“I promise.” What else could I say?
It was, apparently, the right thing. Lamar faded away just as Ella stepped nearer. “This isn’t your team,” she said.
“Huh?” It wasn’t brilliant, but it was succinct. “Are you telling me-”
“That this is Mae’s team. They’ll get along fine without your guidance. They’re Team Number One. You’ll be captain of Team Number Two.”
“And Team Number Two..?” I looked around. There wasn’t anyone else in sight.
“They’ll be here in just a moment, I think.” Ella checked her watch. “Greer wants to be filming when they arrive.”
On cue, a guy with a huge video camera on his shoulder leaped out of the van. Greer was at his side, issuing orders every step of the way.
Which meant the cameras were rolling when the van containing my team rolled into the cemetery, and all of Cleveland (well, as much of Cleveland as would be watching a lame PBS show about a lame cemetery restoration) was witness to the blank look on my face when I saw what was written on the side of that van.
CUYAHOGA COUNTY JAIL:
COMMUNITY WORK SERVICE PROGRAM.
3
Quinn Harrison has one of those smiles. It’s sleek. It’s slick. It’s sexy.
Oh boy, is it sexy!
And at that very moment, I wanted to smack it right off his face, and if he had a brain in his head, he would have known it. After all, we’d first met back when I was investigating Gus Scarpetti’s murder, and we’d been seeing each other regularly since this past winter, when I returned from my mom’s house in Florida, where I had been recuperating from that gunshot wound.
In the time I’d known him, Quinn had been nice enough to save my life a time or two. But believe me, that wasn’t why I was sleeping with him.
I was sleeping with Quinn because, not counting the ghost I once fell in love with, he was the hottest guy I’d met since forever. It’s not like we’d ever established any kind of meaningful relationship or anything. We didn’t need one. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to have some sort of meaningful relationship with him, and I didn’t know for sure, but I liked to think he felt the same. I guess neither one of us knew where to begin.
Then again, if Quinn was half the superman he believed himself to be, he should have learned to read my mind by now. That would have been a good start.
“Come on, Pepper.” His eyes sparking, he grazed one hand from my wrist and up to my elbow. He brushed his long, strong fingers back and forth over my arm. “You’ve got to admit, it’s pretty funny.”
“Not.” I would have crossed my arms over my chest if what he was doing didn’t feel so good. We were sitting side by side on the couch in my living room, so I slid him a look. “Explain to me the funny part about being the head of a team of felons!”
“They’re not felons. Not all of them, anyway.” Quinn got up long enough to go into my dining room where we’d left the bottle of red wine we’d opened when we came back from dinner. I am more of a martini girl. Always have been. But thanks to Quinn, I was learning to appreciate a good bottle of wine. Actually, thanks to Quinn, I was learning to appreciate a whole bunch of new and interesting things.
One of which was that when he had the little spark in his eyes, his mind was on one thing and one thing only- sex.
Come to think of it, Quinn had that spark in his eye every time I saw him.
