Free Death in Reel Time by Brynn Bonner

been a wild child in her teen years, and at the age of twenty-six, when she should have outgrown her wild-oats stage, she ran off with a sandlot volleyball player, flipping her entire family the proverbial bird on her way out of town. Six months later he crept out of their hotel room somewhere in Portugal, leaving her with ten dollars in her purse and two thousand dollars in hotel bills. Sterling and Madeline had rescued her, brought her back home, and built her a little studio-sized house on their property. They’d been supporting her financially and in other ways for the past year while she tried to figure out how to get her life together. Blaine had been incensed. He believed in the bad karma/tough love school of relationships. He’d barely spoken to Madison during the past year and had continued to pressure his parents to cut her off.
    At the funeral, in contrast to Madison’s emotional unspooling, Beth was stoic. Either Olivia or Madeline was by her side every minute making sure she didn’t overtax. She appeared shell-shocked, registering little as people approached with condolences. True to Marydale’s prediction, the Branch family had taken over all the arrangements for the funeral, consulting Beth only when necessary. Which was a good thing. Blaine’s sudden death and her own injury left Beth barely functioning.
    Some of the mourners probably came out of obligation to Sterling and Madeline Branch, while others were drawn by more prurient impulses, but many were there to support Beth. True details were slowly leaking out: that Blainehad been killed by a blow to the head, that the death was ruled a homicide, that Beth, too, had been injured on the day of Blaine’s murder. In addition the rumor mill was grinding away. Blaine and Beth had been a prominent couple in Morningside and his murder was the stuff of TV crime docudrama. Even as his life was being lauded inside the church, it was being torn apart in shops and cafés. There was gossip that he was having an affair, that he was caught up in shady business dealings, that he was a secret gambler or drug addict. That neighbors had heard gunfire at his home on the day he died. None of it was supported by anything as cumbersome as facts. It seems that when the murder of an ordinary citizen occurs, people will search for any motive to assure themselves that if they simply stay away from whatever misstep or vice got that person killed, they can stay safe from harm.
    Esme and I had continued to work on sorting and organizing Olivia’s family artifacts so they could all be stored away in good order; we were expecting to continue with the project after the first of the year, when things had settled down. So I was surprised when, two days after the funeral, Olivia called.
    â€œAre you and Esme still available to work on my family history?” she asked.
    â€œWell, yes, we’re here for another week. But we weren’t sure you’d be up for it right now after all that’s happened. It’s okay if you’d rather wait.”
    â€œNo, I want to keep going, if that’s okay,” Olivia said, then let out a whooshing breath that came through the phone line so clearly I could almost feel its warmth on my ear. “The thing is,” she said, “we’re desperate for something to distractus right now. Beth especially. I’m worried about her. If I’d known she’d take this so hard . . .” She went silent and I thought for a moment that we’d lost our connection.
    â€œOlivia, you still there?”
    â€œYes, sorry. The thing is, Beth needs to keep her mind and her hands busy. Things are such a mess. This is not how she intended her life to go and she’s just sort of checked out right now. I need to get her involved with something.”
    â€œIf you think working on this will help, we’ll be glad to do it, Olivia,” I said, though I doubted there was much that could