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“Why? Do you think he doesn’t know what periods are?”

“Mom!” She looked at me as if I’d just handed her a dead squirrel. “Gross!”

We’d gotten home from the cheer competition and the fast food place and she’d immediately sidled up to me, telling me that we had to go to the drug store immediately because she was out of “girl things.”

“It’s not gross,” I said, pulling into the parking lot of Moose River Drug Emporium. “It’s natural. Everyone has to deal with it. It’s the body—”

“Oh God, seriously, stop,” Emily said, holding up her hand as if it were a shield that might protect her from my words. “You’ve said it to me a hundred times and it’s still gross, okay?”

“All I’m saying is that Jake would’ve been happy to bring you over here,” I told her. “He’s bought mine for me at the store before.”

She moved her hand away from her face. “Seriously?”

“Of course.”

“That must’ve been terrible for him.”

I found a parking spot near the door and killed the engine. “Yes, how terrible for him to have a normal wife.”

“Normal,” she repeated. I didn’t miss the sarcasm in her voice. “That’s funny.”

Moose River Drug Emporium was a good way to step back into the past. It was the kind of combination pharmacy- Hallmark-dry goods store that used to be on every Main Street in America. They’d been phased out by the Walgreens and Wal-Marts, but somehow, the Emporium had persevered. It wasn’t always the cheapest place to buy things, but it was close to the house and I didn’t mind spending a little more at a local, independent business. Most of the town felt that way, as it wasn’t uncommon to run into someone you knew while shopping.

“I hope we don’t see anyone we know,” Emily said as the little bell chimed on the inside of the door.

We found the personal care aisle and just as Emily reached for what she wanted, a voice said, “Well, hello Daisy!”

Emily froze and I turned to see who it was.

Olga Stunderson was in the middle of the aisle, smiling at us. We’d met under less than ideal circumstances – her brother’s body had been found in the basement of our home – but after a bumpy beginning when she’d thought I’d murdered him, we’d become friends.

“It’s been awhile,” she said. “How are you?”

“Just fine, Olga,” I said. “How are you?”

I looked her up and down. She’d dyed her hair a dark shade of burgundy and looked like she’d lost a few pounds.

“I’m good, I’m good,” she said. She held up the shopping basket she was holding. “Just here to pick up a little make-up. My machine isn’t working and I’ve got a body waiting.”

“A body?” Emily asked, her hand now down at her side so no one would know why we were standing in the personal care aisle.

“Olga runs the mortuary,” I reminded her.

“Oh, I don’t run it,” Olga said, grinning. “I just make everyone look pretty. You know, for their final destination.”

Emily’s expression was one of horror. “You’re putting make-up on… a dead body?”

“Technically, just on a dead face,” Olga said, nodding. “But, yeah. Jean Blundergood. Passed two days ago. She was ninety-one.”

“So you put it on her…” Emily glanced at the contents of Olga’s basket. “... after she’s dead?”

“Well, she didn’t ask me to do her make-up before she died,” Olga said, chuckling.

Emily’s face paled.

“And I see you’re here for some lady products,” Olga said. She reached out to see what Emily was buying but she thrust her hand behind her back. “What an exciting time to be a young lady!”

“I want to die,” Emily whispered. “Right here.”

She spoke softly but Olga heard her. “At least I’ll be here to do your make-up if you do!”

“I wondered if we might see you over at the play,” I said to Olga, trying to change the subject and buy Emily a little time to recover her lost dignity. “Doing make-up or something.”

I’d heard that she helped out with some of the local theater productions, as time allowed. Jake and I had both wondered if ‘time allowed’ was code for number of clients she had waiting in the mortuary.

She looked baffled for a moment, and then it cleared, replaced by recognition. “Oh, the Snow White production, right? Normally, I’d be happy to help out. But, um, Eleanor and I don’t get along so well, so I didn’t even bother to volunteer my services anymore.”

This was news to me, although I couldn’t say I was surprised. “You don’t get along?”

“She hired me once to do her daughter’s make-up for an audition down in Minneapolis,” Olga said. Her small eyes widened a fraction. “Her daughter didn’t get the part and she decided my work was the reason she didn’t get a callback. She came to me and wanted a refund. I asked for some sort of proof that the make-up was the problem and she just got nasty about it.” She smiled. “I told her I had a no refund policy. She didn’t take too kindly to that, and we haven’t really spoken since.”

That sounded very much like Eleanor.

“Which is a shame,” Olga said. “Because I really do like kids.” Her gaze drifted to Emily. “Are yours in the play?”

“The two younger girls,” I said.

“Oh, fun,” she said. Then her smile dimmed. “Well, I guess it hasn’t been all fun. I heard about the Pendleton girl.”

“Yes, it’s been a bit...challenging.”

“I’m sure,” Olga said. She shifted the basket to her other hand. “The girl hasn’t come back?’

I shook my head.

“A shame,” Olga said. “But, you know, not like this is the first time.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Emily drifted a few feet away from us. I knew the only thing she wanted to do was buy what she was holding and get back in the car and go home. But it had been a while since I’d talked to Olga and she didn’t seem to be in any hurry to return to the mortuary. And even though I’d taken myself off the case of finding Amanda Pendleton, I was still curious about her and still interested in what Olga had to say.

“I’d heard she’d gotten herself back on track,” Olga said. “Friend of mine, her daughter goes to school with her. And we handled their great aunt’s service not too long ago. She was a very nice, polite girl.” She looked past me to Emily. “About her age, right?”

“Yes, I believe so,” I said. “So, yeah, it’s been a bit of a struggle. But the production is this weekend, so we made it through.”

“Oh, good. Maybe I’ll try and come.” She scowled. “As long as that nitwit Eleanor stays out of my way. And her stupid daughter, too.”

“I don’t think you’ll see much of either of them,” I said. “Eleanor will probably be backstage the whole time and the only place you’ll see Madison is on stage, since she’s taking over the Snow White role.”

Olga snorted. “Great. Another production where she’s the star. Well, I wouldn’t be coming to see her fat face – but I would come to support your little girls.”

I stifled a laugh. Olga was nothing if she wasn’t direct. I’d been a victim of her wrath before and she had never been one to mince words. “That would be lovely.”

“Well, I should get back to Jean with this foundation.” She picked up the tube from her basket. “This stuff is great. It’s not like my airbrush make-up – stupid thing broke again, can you believe it? – but it offers great coverage for dead—I mean, pale skin.”

I thought I heard Emily gag.

“And I should let you finish picking out your special purchases,” she said, winking at Emily.

Emily whirled on her heels and marched for the cash register.

Olga waved and tottered off down the aisle.

I hurried to catch up with my mortified daughter. “So, what were you saying about not seeing anyone we know?”

THIRTY SIX

“You’ll have to take them to the dress rehearsal,” I said to Jake. “Since I’m still banned.”