called on, Kristi spun in my direction.
“Who are you?” She looked from me to my plastic cup to Laura and
finally Phoebe. I knew instantly that I had been relegated to “one
of them.”
Eve piped up. “Phyllis invited her.”
Kristi looked skeptical. Which told me she
didn’t know Phyllis as well as she thought she did, if my holding
the cup of wine was coloring her impression that I couldn’t live up
to Phyllis’s standards. It was totally true that I didn’t live up
to Phyllis’s standards, but not because of drinking alcohol. It was
all my other faults that made me lacking.
Bev stepped forward. “She also found that
girl’s body.”
Kristi inhaled sharply, and all eyes turned
to me.
I took another drink.
My drinking buddy Laura stepped back enough
that she could size me – or at least parts of me – up. “You don’t
look like a Cutie.”
I knew where her eyes were going. I held my
cup, the plastic one filled with wine, over them.
“She’s not,” Bev answered for me. Her eyes
lit up like one of the electronic poker machines at The Castle. She
thought she’d hit the jackpot.
“I told you. I own Dusty Deals. It was early
and my dog had thrown up and...” I went on, babbling out the same
convoluted, but mostly true, story that I’d told Detective
Klein.
“So you were actually going to buy coffee
there?” Kristi’s revulsion and judgment were clear.
“It was early and close and—”
She held up her hand, cutting me off. “This
kind of weak morals and lack of dedication will be the end of this
country.” She straightened her shoulders and shook her head,
somehow adding a little extra poof to her hair.
I took another drink of wine. A big one.
“Anyway,” Kristi heaved out. “Bev saw the
photo that the
Daily News
ran of us and then, of course,
the horrible news of that girl’s death.” She paused, in what I
guessed was a nano–second of respect for the deceased. “And, even
though she hadn’t had the
time
to cover our original
protest, she wanted to give us some support.” Another pause, this
one with a bit of judgment for dear, dear Bev. “We were chatting
about how that dreadful detective had sought me out, acting as
if
just because I cared enough about the direction this
town and country are going to participate in a protest, I might be
involved in her death.” She shook her head, obviously ashamed for
Klein that he couldn’t appreciate how upright a citizen she was.
“Then, of course, I knew he had chatted with a few of you too.” She
waved her hand as if anyone else’s conversations were trivial
compared to what she’d been forced to endure.
And maybe they were. I looked at her with
new interest, wondering just how much she had wanted to shut the
kiosk down. I also, though, had to wonder how the others in the
group felt about her oh so nicely sucking them into the reporter’s
vortex with her.
“And Bev pointed out that talking to the
entire group might offer wider interest than...” She waved her hand
again as if whatever she’d been about to say wasn’t important, but
she’d said enough that I got it. She’d wanted her friend Bev to do
a piece just on her, but the reporter’d had bigger game to hunt. Or
at least a bigger herd.
And now it seemed I was part of it.
o0o
As it turned out, Bev might have done as
well, or better, sticking to just Kristi for her “profile.”
Even after Kristi tried to single one or two
out, Laura and Phoebe in particular, the women just sat
semi–politely, minus a rolled eye here and there and a derisive
snort from Phoebe pretty much every five minutes like clockwork. In
other words, they clammed up. Completely.
So completely, I thought about stretching
out on the jerky scented carpet and sleeping off the wine I’d
consumed.
Finally, after an hour of very little
talking, Bev passed around her business cards and told us each
goodbye with a heartfelt, “I’ll be in touch.”
She’d barely left the room before
Sinéad Moriarty
Cheryel Hutton
T. S. Joyce
Jordan Silver
Jane Robinson
Mia Moore
Allison Lane
Will Collins
Mark Tompkins
Maya Banks