Free Imitation of Death by Cheryl Crane

the others,” Ellen offered.
    “It’s fine. Really.” Nikki picked up the bucket.
    Ashley’s voice was getting louder. Nikki could pick up a word here and there. She was talking about not being able to go somewhere tonight.
    “Honestly,” Nikki said to Ellen, trying to half listen in on Ashley’s conversation. Apparently, Ashley had intended to go to a Jay-Z concert, but had had to cancel because of the death of her boss’s stepson. “It gives me something to do.” She walked to an icemaker installed in a drawer beside the commercial refrigerator. Like most million dollar kitchens, if you didn’t know what you were looking for on what appeared to be a solid paneled wall, you might be searching for twenty minutes. Fortunately, she’d been in the house often enough to know where the Bernards hid the icemaker. “I’m not good at this sort of thing.”
    Ellen glanced over her shoulder in Ashley’s direction. She must have been catching part of the conversation, too. “I know. I feel that way, too. Which is why I’m in the kitchen, hiding in this chef’s coat,” she told Nikki. “But, honestly, who is good at a time like this?”
    Nikki lifted her eyebrows. “My mother .”
    Ellen’s face lit up. “Oh, my gosh. Mine, too.”
    As Nikki used a plastic scoop to dump ice into the ice bucket, Ashley walked into the kitchen cradling a cell phone, her attention obviously on the call.
    “I don’t know. I haven’t gotten to talk to her privately,” Ashley said in a gossipy tone, “but I can tell you one thing, Ginny Bernard is not all that broken up that the prick is dead. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s the one who did it.”

Chapter 7
    N ikki met Ellen’s gaze.
    Realizing for the first time that she was not alone, Ashley stopped short. “I’ll have to call you back,” she whispered, sounding scared out of her pants.
    For a moment, all three of them were silent. Nikki and Ellen both looked at the assistant, who looked back at them. Nikki slid the icemaker drawer shut with her knee, which seemed to make an amazing racket.
    “I’m so sorry,” Ashley breathed. “I . . . I didn’t mean that. I was just . . . I obviously didn’t mean for anyone to hear that.”
    Ellen cut her eyes at Nikki as if to say, No duh . . .
    Nikki pressed her lips together, amused by Ellen . . . intrigued by what she’d just heard. “It . . . it’s okay, Ashley.”
    “Please don’t tell her. Please, please, please don’t tell Ginny I said that. I didn’t mean it. I’m angry. It’s just that I was supposed to go to this concert tonight with my boyfriend, and . . .” Ashley rushed toward Nikki, tucking her phone into her hip pocket. “I can’t get fired. I . . . I’ve got rent and a car payment, and—”
    “It’s okay,” Nikki repeated, setting the three-thousand-dollar ice bucket on the marble counter. “I’m not going to say anything.” She glanced at Ellen.
    “This is certainly none of my business,” Ellen muttered, turning around to grab a silver tray off the counter behind her. “I’m just the kitchen help.”
    Nikki would have laughed in other circumstances. She liked this Ellen Mar. She liked her sassiness. “It’s been a crazy, awful day, Ashley. A lot of emotion involved,” she soothed, her thoughts going a thousand miles a minute. What had Ashley meant? Was she really just running her mouth off because she was annoyed with her employer? Or was there more to the story? “We all say things we rethink later. Things we wish we hadn’t said. Things we wish we had said differently.”
    “I’m going to take this caviar in. I seem to have lost my help. He said he’d be right back. He was just going outside for a quick smoke. Anything I can get either of you?” Ellen asked.
    “No, I should get the ice to Ginny.” Nikki reached for the bucket.
    “I’ll do that.” Ashley practically snatched the ice bucket out of Nikki’s hands. “She asked me to get more ice forty-five minutes ago.