Page 52 of Dead Man's Hollow

“Where is she?”

“She’s in court. But she got Ellie started on it.”

“Eleanor Prescott?” Maisy arches an eyebrow. She doesn’t know the firm’s newest associate well, but from what she does know, the woman would chafe at being pressed into service as a party planner.

“Ellie’s happy to do. She and Jordana hit it off when Ellie was transitioning in and Jordana was on her way out. I think Ellie knows she owes her for the crash course in handling Sasha.”

“Crash course? That oughta be a graduate-level seminar.”

They share a laugh at their mutual friend’s quirks. “No kidding. Anyway, Ellie worked out the details with Leo. The current plan is something simple for close friends and Jordana’s family at Sasha and Leo’s house. And then Ellie arranged an afterparty at some underground club in Lawrenceville for anyone who can stay up that late. So, count me out.”

“You said family. Both of Jordana’s parents are invited?”

“Mmm-hmm, Sasha handled that.”

“Handled it how?”

“She spoke to each of them individually, and then she called them into the office and talked to them together.”

“So she asked them to play nice?”

“No,” Naya scoffs. “Shetoldthem to play nice, and then she made them sign a contract to that effect.”

“They signed a contract not to fight?”

“I said what I said. You don’t have to worry about Jordana’s parents. Youdoneed to worry about her Bubbie.”

“Excuse me?”

“Jordana’s grandmother’s coming up from Maryland for the dinner. She’s making noises about attending the afterparty, too. But apparently, she holds you responsible for the fact that Jordana decided not to go to law school and instead did the extra year to get her master’s degree and work for you.”

“I’mresponsible?”

“That’s right.”

“Is Sasha going to talk to her, too?” Maisy says hopefully.

“You’re on your own with Bubbie.”

Maisy groans.

“Maybe you should hurry up and solve the Ryan disappearance. Make it seem like her granddaughter hasn’t thrown her life away.”

Maisy gives her the stink eye. “Thanks, I was thinking that I really need more pressure, so that’s helpful.”

Naya grins. “Any time. I’m here to serve.”

ChapterTwenty-Eight

Michelle is inspectingthe strawberries with a critical eye. The last basket she brought home from the grocery store went moldy before she even opened it. She turns the plastic container over, notices how dark and wet the berries look, and returns it to the produce shelf. She’ll stop at the farmer’s market this weekend instead.

She steers her cart around a woman wrestling with a baby and two toddlers who are strapped into the plastic car molded onto the front of her oversized cart. Her mind is on whether she should call Amy Marino back. She and Lynn have talked it over ad nauseam, but they can’t decide what to do.

She’s rounding the corner to the bakery to pick up some pretzel rolls when she hears her name.

“Michelle! Hey, girl.”

She turns toward the voice to see Rachel barreling toward her, pushing a large cart that’s nearly overflowing.