Powdered Murder

"I had to be sure before going around disclosing private medical information," he said discreetly. "One of the reasons she recovered so well was because the media has no idea she's bipolar and severely paranoid."

"So Franco knew," I said out loud.

"Her assistant?" John asked me. "Yes, I think he did."

I thought back to how upset Lila had been about Franco's book deal. She had been so furious she'd ripped out a couple pages and sneakily had taken them back to her room. He must have been pla

"All this time he thought she was taking her pills."

"If I would've known about this," John responded. "I went through every exercise in the book. I even listed off all the things she still had to live for and she still jumped. I knew the moment she ran for that ski lift she was toying with the option of jumping." He pressed his lips together to keep himself from saying any more.

"You did what you could," I said, not knowing whether or not my words would comfort him. I thought I would give it a try anyway. He dug the toe of his boot into the snow.

"But was it good enough?" His voice was quiet and stained with regret.

"It was." I allowed myself to take a deep breath of the mountain air surrounding us. The events of this morning had gone by so quickly and happened so suddenly I was already sore from my muscles being tense the entire time. "She knew what she did, John. I'm not sure if she was sorry about it, but she was fully aware that she'd killed her friend Do

"All cries of desperation."

The medic who was examining John speedily checked his blood pressure and then nodded, giving him the okay to leave.

"Do you think she's alive?" I asked as the two of us steered clear of the flashing lights coming from the photographers’ cameras. John shrugged.

"I honestly have no idea. I didn't see her move after she fell, but that doesn't mean she wasn't breathing." He pulled a hand out of his pocket. It still shook as if he'd been stuck with a syringe of adrenaline. He stuffed his hand back in his pocket, glancing at me. His cheeks went rosy when the two of us entered the hotel. The warm air from the heaters swept over my skin like a soothing bath.

"A little tip," I suggested. I hoped I could put John's mind temporarily at ease by lightening the mood. "Ada is really into cats." John slowed his paced and looked at me curiously. It took him a second to get up to speed and realize I was now addressing his bakery crush.

"Is she really?"

"Cats and beads," I said. "Oh and Andy Warhol."

"Good to know." John gri

Joy met us near the dining room. My stomach felt sour when we followed her through the staff hallway and up the staff only staircase to meet the rest of the wedding party. It reminded me of what Lila had said about how I stuck to the same old habits. She was right. I even took the same path to the bathroom when I was at work and ate the same thing for lunch every day. Chicken or ground turkey on a bed of spinach with cucumber slices, cherry tomatoes, and a scoop of rice.

"The Jayes are getting ready to go to the hospital," Joy informed me. "I thought you might want to drive them there."

Patrick's mother, A

"Sure," I volunteered. "I'll take them."

"Good." Joy stuck out her jaw like she sometimes did when she was preventing herself from speaking too freely. "Mom and Dad went home and they're going to stop by the Jaye's house and pick up some of Patrick's things."

"What about Bebe?" I asked.

"I suppose she can wait around here for when Franco comes back," Joy replied, shrugging. "I'll get the kitchen to send A

Joy left my side and the void was instantly filled by Bebe. She was still biting her nails and studying my expression. She adjusted the hem of her bridesmaid dress so that her sparkly heels were visible. Even in the midst of deadly nuptials she had fashion on the brain.

"Okay spill," she said quietly. Her eyes passed over me and she twisted her mouth. I needed to change before making the long drive to the nearest hospital. "What happened, apart from the wind tossing you around like a rag doll?"

"I plan on ru

"Good plan," Bebe responded. "But first you have to tell me what happened out there. I have to be prepared for tomorrow."

"What happens tomorrow?"

"This place will be crawling with press wanting to get the inside scoop," she answered. "I need something juicier than no comment. Essie, this place is going to be front page news."

Finding Do

"I better get moving on that comb situation then," I joked.

"She didn't jump for no reason." Bebe's voice changed. It sounded sorrowful. She took a step, leaning against a wall for balance. "I knew she had issues but…" Bebe gently dabbed her eyes. "It just shows you how short life can really be, doesn't it? The things we thought were important suddenly aren't that important anymore." She sniffled.

"Yes, she had issues," I confessed. "We all do. Unfortunately some of us can't help but … snap."

"I should have been nicer to her," Bebe confessed. "I should have been a better friend and kept my mouth shut that one time she told Celebs Daily magazine that I'd had butt implants."

"Why would she say a thing like that?"

"I took a spi

"Hold onto those memories," I said softly. "I suck at always seeing the good in people, but I try."

"You see way more than the good." Bebe laughed lightly. "You see everything there is to see. Everything." She held up her wrist, flashing her silver cuff and therapeutic wristband.

I still wasn't sure if noticing more than most was a good thing, because sometimes it roused my curiosity so much it got me into trouble.

Is it a talent, or am I just nosey?

"I need to get changed." I left it at that, knowing eventually Bebe would hear the whole story. First, I had something more pressing to do. I thought of Patrick lying alone at the hospital. I was desperate to see with my own two eyes if he was alive and kicking.