"Thank you," Angela preened. "Turns out I'm not just a pretty face, huh?" She laughed at her own joke, tossing her hair over one shoulder.
"Tragic what happened to your fellow contestant," Tina said.
"What?" Angela gave her a blank look.
"Doggy Z. His untimely passing last night."
"Oh." Angela blinked, as if suddenly remembering she was supposed to look somber. "Yes. Tragic."
"Did you know him well?" Tina asked.
Angela shrugged. "I mean, I knew of him. Everyone's heard 'Dog's Gotta Bone.' Unfortunately," she added with an eye roll.
"I take it you weren't a fan of his music," I noted.
Angela scoffed. "Is any self-respecting woman? His lyrics were crude, demeaning, and downright insulting to the female population everywhere."
"But his beats were fresh," Marco said, looking disappointed at being the only Dog fan at the table.
Angela shrugged. "Mediocre, at best."
"Did you spend much time with him yesterday?" Tina asked.
"Not really." Angela frowned. "We were all backstage for a while. There was a common greenroom, but we all had our own dressing rooms."
"Did you notice Dog acting strange backstage at all?" Tina pressed.
Angela's voice held a sarcastic note as she answered. "You mean like injecting a lethal dose of some drugs?" She smirked. "Yeah, I read the tabloids too. I know he died of an overdose."
"Sure." Something flitted across Tina's features, but she quickly covered it. "So, I'm guessing you didn't see anything that would indicate drug use?"
"Other than the fact he could hardly even stand up on his own?" Angela said. "No."
I had to agree that we'd all seen that.
"What about the other contestant, Fernando?"
I felt my spine straighten. Marco tensed beside me, shooting Tina a warning look.
"What about him?" Angela asked.
"How was he acting backstage?" Tina asked.
Angela shrugged. "I don't know. Nervous, I guess." She paused. "What does all this have to do with sick kids?"
"Great question," Marco said, glaring at Tina.
But the reporter didn't miss a beat, aiming her lying arrow straight for Angela's ego. "I just wondered what you thought of the fellow contestants, as it seemed obvious to me that your knowledge and skills were head and shoulders above the other players."
Angela's suspicions smoothed into a flattered smile. "Well, thank you. I did have the competition beat. You know, until that hairdresser cheated his way into the finals."
"Cheated?!" I blurted out.
"No." Marco shook his head vehemently. "I don't believe that for a second."
"Come on." She laughed. "How else could he know what type of grain to feed a sick cow? Someone must have slipped him the answers."
Tina glanced in my direction slyly, waiting for me to blow my cover. I took a deep breath before I spoke. "Maybe he's just well read."
"Well, I told Rupert Blick that they should have a closer look at him," Angela said. "There's something off about the guy."
"I know exactly what you mean," Tina agreed. "Maybe they should do a thorough background check on him." She gave me a long stare.
I found a piece of lint on my skirt interesting.
"Anyway," Angela went on, "my agent said I have a good chance of getting the Wild Card slot. Hey, maybe your sick kid wants to come to the taping?"
"Uh, maybe," Tina said. "So, backstage. Did the other contestants get any visitors, or was it just you, Dog, and Fernando?"
"Most of the time," Angela responded. "I mean, Fernando's wife came back for a minute. And I saw Aunty Mae stop by Dog's dressing room to wish him luck."
"Aunty Mae was there?" Marco asked, leaning in.
Angela nodded. "She does that cooking show with him."
"I thought I heard that they didn't get along," Marco said. "Isn't that part of the shtick on their show?"
Angela shrugged. "Well, I didn't hear what they talked about, but it seemed amicable enough. Maybe it's a nasty rumor."
My eyes went to Tina. Sounded like her department. But I noticed she was frowning, looking deep in thought about something. "Did Dog have any other visitors?" she asked.
"His son and the son's girlfriend were at the taping," Angela replied. "But they only stopped by backstage for a few minutes."
"And neither of them seemed upset with Dog?" Tina asked. "No one argued with him?"
"Argued?" I cocked my head at the word.
Tina's eyes shot to mine for a second, but they immediately went back to Angela as she answered.
"No. Why would they?"
"Just curious."
"Well, like I said, they were only there for a few minutes."
"How about on the set. Did anyone seem upset at Dog? Fernando, maybe?"
"Why would Fernando be upset at Dog?" Marco asked, narrowing his eyes at Tina.
Tina gave him the same glance-ignore-glance-away thing, focusing on Angela as she answered.
"The only person I saw mad at Dog was Rupert Blick," Angela said. "He's an executive at the network and didn't seem too happy with Dog's performance. He came over and yelled at him every commercial break."
I'd seen that too. In fact, I'd seen him arguing with Dog before the show even started taping. I glanced at Tina, wondering what she was up to. This felt more like a witness interrogation than an interview.
"So when am I meeting this kid?" Angela asked.
"Hmm?" Tina's head popped up. "Oh, right. Yeah, we'll be in touch."
* * *
As soon as Angela was out of earshot, I turned to Tina. "Okay, spill it, Bender. What were all those questions about?"
Tina shrugged, getting up from the table. "I told you. I'm doing a story on Dog's death."
"But why were you asking if anyone argued with him? What does that have to do with his death?"
Tina didn't answer, instead avoiding my gaze. She was definitely hiding something.
"Why did you want to know who visited Dog backstage?" I pressed. "What does that have to do with his death?"
Tina chewed the inside of her cheek, still not answering me.
"I mean, Dog's death was an accident. He died of a drug overdose, right?"
Tina sucked in a breath of air and let it out audibly before finally answering. "That is the official story. But I don't think it's the whole story."
"Why not?" I asked.
"I heard something on my police scanner."
"You have a police scanner?" Marco asked.
"Doesn't everyone?" When neither of us answered, she just shrugged. "Anyway, I heard some chatter last night after the call went out about the 10-54."
"What's a 10-54?" Marco asked.
"Cop code for a possible dead body," Tina explained.
"What chatter did you hear?" I asked, halfway wondering if it had been from my own husband.