This is going nowhere, Bernie thought as she gingerly reached into the breast pocket of Hortense’s Santa suit.
“What are you doing?” Libby squawked.
“Seeing if anything is there,” Bernie answered.
“Like what?”
“Like the list,” Bernie said without turning her head. The pocket was empty.
“The list of ingredients isn’t here,” she told her sister.
“So what?”
Bernie heard her left knee crack as she got up. She’d better get back to the gym.
“Remember Hortense said the list was in her pocket.”
“That was the pocket of her robe. Why assume she was carrying it on her now?”
“Of course she’d have it on her now. We’re going on the air soon.”
“She might have just been saying that,” Libby pointed out.
Bernie was about to answer but before she could, Estes jumped in.
“Let me get this right,” he said. “Are you saying Hortense was deliberately killed for the list of ingredients for the cook-off?”
“It’s a possibility,” Bernie said.
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of,” Consuela scoffed.
“An insult to our abilities,” Jean La Croix huffed.
“And our morals,” Pearl added.
“I never saw this list you’re talking about,” Eric Royal added. “It’s in the safe.”
Bernie rubbed her knee. “Maybe she took it out.”
“I would have known if she had,” Eric Royal insisted.
“Well, all I know is that she told me she had it,” Bernie retorted. “Right, Consuela?”
“Right,” Consuela said sullenly.
“Eric, maybe you should go check.”
“I don’t know.”
Bernie watched Estes give Eric a nod.
“Go ahead,” he told him.
Eric was back five minutes later. From the look on his face, Bernie knew he wasn’t going to be delivering good news. And he didn’t.
“It’s not there,” Eric told Estes.
“It could be somewhere else,” Libby said.
“It could be,” Bernie conceded, but she didn’t think it would be.
Suddenly everyone in the room started talking at once. Bernie felt like putting her hands over her ears to block out the noise.
“Quiet!” Estes yelled.
Everyone shut up. I need a drink, Bernie thought as she watched the sweat beading up on Estes’ forehead. It was hot in the room, but not that hot. Maybe the guy had high blood pressure.
“What do you mean the list isn’t there?” Estes asked Eric.
“I checked the safe and Hortense’s desk. I couldn’t find it,” Eric squeaked.
Estes sniffed. “Well go and look again.”
“Don’t,” Bernie said.
Estes stared at her.
“What do you mean don’t?” he demanded.
“You’re disturbing a possible crime scene. Don’t you watch Law and Order?”
“Ha. Ha. Ha. For your information, my cousin helps produce that show. Furthermore, just because you were involved in a couple of cases doesn’t make you an expert. Far from. You don’t know it’s a crime scene,” Estes told her. “There are lots of explanations for the list not being there.”
“You keep saying that,” Bernie told him. “I’d like to hear what they are.”
Brittany clapped her hands together.
“People, people, we need to focus here. What are we going to do with the list gone?”
“We don’t know it’s gone,” Estes replied.
“But if someone read it …” La Croix’s voice trailed off.
Everyone was quiet as they all contemplated the implications of that.
“We’ll make a new one,” Estes said.
“Who will?” Consuela gestured toward Hortense with her chin. “She’s dead.”
“And that’s the point,” Bernie said as she grabbed the conversational ball. “We have to call the police.”
Estes scowled. “Of course we will. We have to. But let’s think about the show.”
“I think we should think about Hortense.”
“I never said we shouldn’t. All I’m saying is that there are big bucks tied up in this show. I’m just trying to protect everyone’s investment.”
It always comes down to money, Bernie thought as Consuela said, “That’s a terrible thing to say.”
Estes made a face. “Save your sanctimonious act for someone else.”
Bernie could see Consuela bristling. “Sanctimonious act? How dare you?”
“Easy,” Estes said, but before he could say anything else, Pearl Wilde tapped him on the wrist. He turned to face her.
“Where do you keep the cleaning supplies?” she asked him.
“Just a minute,” Estes told her as he glanced around the room.
He looks relieved that he has something else to talk about, Bernie reflected as Estes’ eyes lit on Eric Royal.
“Eric, can you answer Pearl’s question?” he asked him.
Eric Royal gestured to the sink. “Under there.” Then he laid the back of his hand on his forehead. “I can’t believe this,” he said. “I told her not to bake those cookies. I told her there wasn’t time. But Hortense insisted. She was like that. I told her I’d go check on them. But she said no. She’s always having to do everything herself. And now she’s dead,” Eric Royal concluded.
Unlike Brittany Saperstein’s, all that Eric’s performance lacked, Bernie thought uncharitably, was some glycerin tears and a swoon onto the floor. But it wasn’t fair to compare them, because Brittany wasn’t even trying. Bernie watched Brittany looking around the room. Her eyes went everywhere but to Hortense.
“Estes is right. We have to think about the show,” Brittany said.
“How can you think about that at a time like this?” Eric demanded.
“Oh, come on. Be honest. Everyone is,” Brittany said as the sounds of “Disco Duck” floated out of her handbag.
“Those things should be outlawed,” Estes growled.
Interesting, Bernie thought as Brittany opened her bag. Very interesting that Brittany had had the presence of mind in the middle of the pandemonium that the explosion had caused to bring her bag along with her. That spoke of a pretty cool character or preknowledge.
Estes made a grab for Brittany’s handbag.
“I’m going to throw that thing out.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Brittany