Casey Daniels - Dead Man Talking

“No, no.” By this time, she was tugging me, and I had no choice but to go along. We marched through the waist-high weeds, carefully stepping over headstones and smashed bottles and what looked to be a broken crack pipe.

Always single-minded, Ella didn’t speak another word until we were back on the drive that would take us to where Jim and the others were waiting. “There are going to be two teams, you see,” she said. She paused for a moment, at the same time grabbing the hem of her orange top and flapping it to cool herself off. “And each team will be given one section of the cemetery to work on. Since you like that one back there so much…” She looked back the way we came, and for the first time, I noticed that Jefferson Lamar was nowhere to be seen.

“I’ll make sure that’s where you and your team work,” Ella continued. “Each team is going to be responsible for the entire restoration of its section. You know, the planning and the landscaping. And the whole thing is going to be filmed and put on TV each week. We’ve got volunteer judges all lined up: the director of the art museum, the arts editor from the Plain Dealer , and one of the professors from the Art Institute. Isn’t it exciting!”

Now that Ella mentioned it, it was kind of exciting. I ran a hand through my hair and smoothed my blouse just to be sure I looked my best.

“We’re bound to create a sensation with this,” Ella said, leading the way back toward the tent/office. “We’re going to get some great publicity in the cemetery publications, not to mention the news shows. There’s already talk of Dateline coming in to do a piece.”

I was liking the sound of this more and more. By the time we’d rejoined my team, I was grinning from ear to ear.

And just in time to watch a van roll up and stop. It was emblazoned with the logo of the local public TV station.

Too late, I thought about checking my hair and my makeup. I saw that Bianca had no such problems. Just as I glanced over, she was applying a fresh coat of lipstick. By the time a blonde in a black skirt, matching jacket, and a manly blue shirt got out of the van, we were ready for her.

The blonde was a little younger than me, a little shorter, and a whole lot chubbier. She was not, apparently, one to waste precious time. “Greer Henson.” She shook hands with us, one after the other, introducing herself each time. “I guess I’m in charge of this little program.”

Something about the way she said those last two words made me wince. I watched her make her way down the line, do the proper fawning over Bianca, and march back to where Jim and Ella waited. “Who’s in charge?” she asked.

Ella looked my way.

And Greer Henson jumped in with both feet. “So, Ms. Martin, where do we get started?”

It was my moment to shine, and I wished I was better prepared. I also wished that Jefferson Lamar hadn’t picked that particular second to pop back onto the scene.

“What about me?” he asked. He was standing just beyond Greer. “What about my problem?”

“I’ll look into it.”

“Say what?” Greer turned eyes the color of a porpoise my way. “You’ll look into it? Into what? Into telling me where we need to start filming? I don’t think so.” Her voice was singsongy. “Let’s get one thing straight from the start: I don’t mess around. That’s not what gets a producer noticed. So we’re not going to waste precious minutes, or precious daylight, or precious brain cells. Not my precious brain cells, anyway.”

“You promise?” Lamar’s question overlapped with Greer’s whining so I didn’t have a chance to answer.

He wasn’t about to let me off so easy. “And you’ll find out I’m really innocent, won’t you?”

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves here.” I was talking to Lamar. Good thing it was one of those all-purpose comments. Because I sounded like I actually knew what I was talking about, everybody on my team, along with Greer, Ella, and Jim, looked my way.

“We just need a couple minutes to get organized,” I said. “So why don’t you-” I turned toward Greer who obviously didn’t like to be told what to do. Maybe that’s part of a producer’s job description. I can’t say, seeing that I’d never met a producer before. I did know that when she scrunched up her nose and pinched her lips together, she looked a whole lot like one of those garden gnomes. Not the cute ones, either.

“Why don’t you get your cameras or your camera crew or whatever out of your truck,” I told her. “I’m going to get together with the team here and plan a little strategy. By the time you’re back, we’ll be ready to roll.”

Two minutes with this babe and already I knew she wasn’t going to like it when I was right. And let’s face it, I’m right a lot of the time.

With a tight smile on her puffy face, she headed to the van.

“So…” This time, I glanced at Ella. “What’s the plan?”

“Well, there isn’t one. Not really. The only plan is that you act naturally and do what you need to do. That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” Ella wound a finger through the beads around her neck. “It’s all supposed to be natural and unscripted. You know, like real reality TV.”

I kept my opinions to myself. If I was the team captain, I’d better start acting like it. For the TV cameras and so that Bianca would know I had what it took to be management material. “I’m thinking when they start filming, my team should be on its way over to that section where we’re going to work,” I said, waving Mae Tannager and the rest of them over. “That will show how organized we are, right? It’ll be one of those-what do you call them?-action scenes. Or maybe we should have a meeting first? In the limo?” I was already on my way over there. “The team about to encounter its first challenge, discussing, planning, strategizing. What do you think, ladies?”

All the team members looked at each other uncertainly, but it was Mae Tannager who spoke up. “I think you’ve got this all wrong, young lady.”

I stopped in my tracks and looked at Ella, a question in my eyes.

She scooted over, grabbed me, and dragged me aside. “This is Team Number One, and Mae’s the captain,” she said in a harsh whisper. “Mae’s always in charge of whatever committee she’s on.”

“Oh. Of course.” It wasn’t fair, but I understood. Mae had the bucks, and money talks. “I’m just a team member, but I’m the one with the cemetery expertise. Sure. Right.” I actually liked the idea of relinquishing the in-charge responsibility, so my smile was genuine when I started back to where my team waited. “So, Mrs. Tannager, what do you think for a first shot? Limo? Tent? Or should we be marching off to our section to get right to work?”

“Uh, Pepper.” I didn’t know Ella was right behind me until she tugged on my sleeve.

I excused myself with a smile. The moment I turned around, I was face-to-face with Jefferson Lamar.

Believe me, I know what happens when the living come in contact with ghosts. They freeze up like Popsicles. Been there, done that. Wasn’t going to risk it again.

I jumped back.

“Do you promise you’ll help?” he asked.

I was caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place.

“I promise.” What else could I say?

It was, apparently, the right thing. Lamar faded away just as Ella stepped nearer. “This isn’t your team,” she said.

“Huh?” It wasn’t brilliant, but it was succinct. “Are you telling me-”

“That this is Mae’s team. They’ll get along fine without your guidance. They’re Team Number One. You’ll be captain of Team Number Two.”

“And Team Number Two..?” I looked around. There wasn’t anyone else in sight.