Death in Reel Time Read Free Page B

take on this trip. Tony had gone off to round up his gear for the afternoon’s filming and Daniel sat at a corner desk scribbling a grocery list for Beth’s dinner party. I sighed. Daniel’s immediate offer to step in and help his sister in a pinch had made me wish, not for the first time, that I had a brother.
    When Beth came back she apologized for the hubbub. “We’ll make sure there aren’t so many interruptions next time, I promise.”
    She’d barely gotten the last word out of her mouth when we heard a car door slam outside. Beth looked out the window and mumbled something under her breath. “I’m so sorry, excuse me,” she said, already heading for the door.
    We watched as she practically ran down the sidewalk to intercept a man getting out of a sporty car. I don’t know modern cars much. Ask me about old autos like Packards, Edsels, ’57 Chevys and I can rattle off makes and models. It’s a skill set I developed while analyzing old family photos. But anything past the fin era and I’m clueless. But I could tell this one looked expensive.
    At first Esme and I tried to look busy and pretend we weren’t watching, but soon we were standing there with Daniel, blatantly staring out the window. When the man turned toward the house I saw it was Peyton Branch, Blaine’s younger brother. He and Beth were by the car and Peyton was gesticulating wildly, his face red. Beth was trying to calm him down, but with little effect.
    â€œThose damn Branches,” Daniel said, his fists clenched at his sides. “Blaine wants to throw his own sister to the wolves and Peyton’s here bullying mine.”
    Peyton was a history teacher and an assistant coach at our alma mater, Morningside High. He and I had gone through school together, he being a grade ahead of me, and we’d been friends during our undergraduate years in Chapel Hill. He wasn’t as handsome as Blaine and he wasn’t such a smooth operator, but I’d always found him a congenial, down-to-earth guy. I’d never seen him like this. He definitely had a lather up about something.
    â€œShould one of us go out there?” I asked.
    â€œNot just yet,” Daniel said with a sigh. “Beth will be ticked off if we don’t let her handle whatever it is. She thinks she ought to be able to handle anything that comes her way.”
    The argument continued but Peyton appeared to simmer down as Beth made calming gestures, smoothing the air with her hands. Finally he got back into his car and drove away. Beth hung her head and pinched the bridge of her nose.
    â€œYou know how Mom’s obsessed about finding out why her father ran off?” Daniel asked, his eyes fixed on his sister. “Well, there’s way worse things than having a man disappear from a woman’s life; sometimes the bad news is he stays.”

two
    E SME ’ S ON A SMOOTHIE KICK , so most mornings my alarm clock is preempted by the whir of the blender. Not that I’m complaining; the smoothies are delicious and way healthier than the lumberjack breakfasts she used to serve up. Given my small frame even one extra pound makes my clothes fit funny.
    I crawled out of bed and pulled on my work-at-home uniform of jeans and T-shirt. Normally I try to dress professionally with clients, but Olivia didn’t need convincing that I’m good at what I do. She was my mother’s friend and she knows what motivates me to do quality work.
    I brushed my teeth and tamed my hair back into a ponytail, the latter no easy task. I’d gotten my unruly auburn hair from my father’s mixed Celtic heritage. From my mother’s side I’d gotten my amber-brown eyes and slight build, though the jury’s still out on where on the globe these traits originated. The circumstances of my mother’s adoption and her ethnic identity remain shrouded in mystery despite all herdigging—and all mine. She’d