Read Online Death by Killer Mop Doll (An Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery) by Lois Winston - Free Book Online

ever since Trimedia refused to give in to their latest contract demands. We may have been a random target of organized labor high jinks.” But he sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
    “Like hell,” she said, jerking out of the fatherly embrace. Mama stepped back between them, hip-bumping Sheri out of the way and latching on to Lou’s arm once more.
    “What do the police think?” I asked. “And speaking of police, where are they?”
    Lou’s ashen pallor grew paler. “No police!”
    “You mean you haven’t reported this?” I asked.
    “No, and we’re not going to.”
    “But a crime’s been committed.”
    “No,” said Sheri. “Lou’s right. We can’t afford the negative publicity.”
    I glanced at Naomi. Surely she’d see the absurdity of this. But if she did, she wasn’t agreeing with me. “Trimedia already knows what happened. They want to keep this contained. No police. No press.”
    “What about security tapes? Can’t you at least look at those without bringing in the police?”
    “We only have security cameras at the building entrances,” said Lou.
    “This had to have been committed by someone with access to the building,” I said. “Someone who probably came back long after everyone else left on Friday or sometime over the weekend. You should at least have security review the tapes.”
    “That’s not a bad idea,” said Lou.
    “I’ll take care of it,” offered Sheri.
    Lou nodded in agreement.
    “It still makes no sense not to file a report with the police,” I said.
    “Whether it makes sense or not, that’s the ruling from the suits,” said Naomi.
    I shrugged. “Fine. What happens now?”
    “Our schedule gets pushed back a day,” said Sheri. “We’ll condense rehearsals. Taping still begins next Monday.”
    “Only a day?” I asked. “To clean up and construct a new set?”
    Mama turned to Lou. “As long as you’re changing things, dear, you know I didn’t like those leather sofas. They were much too masculine. We should go with a nice floral damask. In soft pastels, I think. Or maybe a peach and mint stripe. And stainless steel appliances look so industrial. Classic white is best, don’t you agree, Anastasia?”
    I groaned.
    To her credit, Sheri ignored Mama’s prattling and answered my question. “We’ll have a new set by tomorrow morning even if we have to pay the crew triple-time to work through the night. They’re already tracking down replacement furnishings. It may not be as nice as this one, but—”
    Naomi broke in. “You probably need to make another model, Anastasia.” She nodded in the direction of the angel wreath. “Unless you can repair that one.”
    I walked over to the island and lifted the doll wreath to examine it. Definitely not salvageable. Same old rotten luck. I turned to Sheri. “I don’t suppose I get paid triple time, too?”
    She offered me a tight smile. “Not unless you’re unionized.”
    “If I were unionized, I’d be getting paid for all the work I’m putting in on this show.” Nada times three still equaled nothing more than a huge goose egg, no matter how you did the math.
    “That certainly sounds like a pretty good motive for vandalism to me,” said Vince. He offered a malicious smile.
    Mama spun around to confront him. “How dare you accuse my daughter of anything illegal!”
    Monica waved an index finger at the paint-drenched angel wreath. “Vince is right,” she said. “She even left a calling card of sorts. Just like the Pink Panther did when he stole the jewels. Only Peter Sellers left a glove, not a mop. Although, a mop would have made more sense, don’t you think?”
    We all stared at her.
    “How do you figure that?” asked Vince.
    “Well, he was cleaning out safes, wasn’t he?” She laughed at her own joke, a laugh that came out too loud and coarse.
    Vince snorted. “Not bad.”
    I glared at the two of them. No way would I stoop to vandalizing the studio to get out of my contractual