Expecting to Die (Alvarez & Pescoli)

“Please do. I’ll take any help I can get on this.”

“Where’s Pescoli?”

“Under the radar. I’m waiting for a call back. She is pregnant, you know, and has a family. I’ll catch up with her.”

“Okay, I’ll do what I can. Put pressure on the lab and ME. I bet we can find all the people you want to talk to up at the reservoir at the reality show location. They’re shooting again tonight, as I understand it. Most of the kids you want to talk to are part of the crowd scene up there, right? I saw them during the last shoot.” His smile was cold as ice. “I’ll have a couple of deputies head up there.”

“Good. Let’s round them up.”

She figured she had a long night ahead of her and headed into the lunchroom to find some coffee or tea or cocoa, anything with a jolt of caffeine. Well-read newspapers were scattered on a couple of tables and lined on the shelf were six new Big Foot Daze cups that would send Pescoli through the roof when she saw them.

Pescoli.

Where the hell was she?

It was odd that she hadn’t returned Alvarez’s calls. As she was about to hit speed dial one more time, her cell vibrated in her hand and she saw her partner’s name appear on the screen.

She clicked on to answer, and as she lifted the phone to her ear, she heard Pescoli say, a little breathlessly, “It happened. A little early. The baby came and I’m at Northern General with my new son and he’s perfect.”

Unexpectedly, Alvarez felt tears sprout in her eyes. She wasn’t one to cry, nor ever get very emotional, but this new baby, coming late in life to a woman who’d finally found the right partner, was the first good news she’d heard in a long, long while.

And for that, she could take a break, if only for an hour or so. Leaving instructions for the lab and Zoller, who was working late as well, to call her with any information, she left the station.

* * *

Riding shot

gun in Jeremy’s truck, Bianca looked in the mirror on the passenger side and saw that her own face was healing, even if her mother’s still bore the scars of her recent catfight with Kywin’s mother. Jeremy was behind the wheel and, despite her mother’s protest, was taking her back to Reservoir Point to continue filming the first episode of “that damned reality show,” as her mother called it.

She was running late, the arrival of her new little brother having caused a major time shift in her schedule. But, already, Bianca knew he was worth it. She’d stared at the baby in wonder within an hour of his birth, had been allowed to hold him, which felt a little awkward. He was sooo tiny. Impossibly so, even though the nurses had said a nearly eight-pound baby was a “good size.”

As she’d cradled him, afraid he might slip from her arms, she’d looked into his dark eyes, marveled at his thick black hair and long, grabby fingers that were forever trying to work their way out of the swaddling blanket. Given the choice, if she had to have a new half-sibling, she would have preferred a sister, but the little guy—Tucker—was kind of cool. Even Jeremy was excited about the baby, and Mom and Santana were absolutely gaga. She’d never seen her mother so serene, so all about this one little baby and seemingly not worried about the world, or her job, or her older kids, or whatever. The things that always kept her a little crazy.

“It’s the drugs,” Jeremy had advised Bianca when she’d brought it up. “I think they pumped her full of morphine or something.”

“They can’t,” she’d argued. “She’s going to be nursing, and they don’t want a doped-up baby.” God, sometimes he was such an idiot.

The truth of the matter was that Bianca was tired and cranky and worried about getting to the shoot late, not that her part was that important. Her big scenes had been shot during the last filming, but there were some others where she was part of the crowd and, according to a text from Mel, they were going to reshoot a couple of the campfire scenes to focus more on Lara, who, despite her trauma of the night before, was already preparing for her expanded role.

Which bugged the hell out of Bianca. Even though Mom didn’t understand how important this was to her, at least Dad got it. She was still bothered by her parents’ fight in the kitchen earlier. After they’d split up, Mom, with her hothead temper, had tried to keep their arguments behind closed doors, but she just couldn’t. When she got mad—boom!—she exploded and Dad knew just how to push her buttons.

Bianca hated their fights and never wanted to pick sides. She knew where her mother was coming from on the issue of Big Foot Territory: Montana! and Barclay Sphinx and Hollywood. Bianca understood. She’d already witnessed herself some of the backstabbing and game-playing and, well, out-and-out lying that went on. And yeah, Barclay and his team did seem to pander to the Big Foot Believers and Mayor Justison, and everyone associated with Grizzly Falls, but that was what hype was all about, right? Creating a buzz, getting people interested?

“You’re sure you still want to be a part of this?” Jeremy asked as he drove out of the town and into the surrounding hills.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. You seem kind of bummed.”

“I’m fine,” she said as he turned into the entrance to the park and pulled up behind a long row of parked cars, trucks, and SUVs. Ahead, behind the temporary fence, lights were glowing, equipment in place, people moving around the set. “I just hope I’m not fired.” She opened the door of his truck.

“You need a ride home? Text me.”

“I’ll get one. I think Michelle’s here, so it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

“I know, but . . . people are going missing and being found dead.” From behind the steering wheel, he looked at her.

“You’re as bad as Mom.” She slammed the door and started toward the camp. Her ankle still hurt, but she kept up a brave face as she reached the gate. She saw Michelle talking to Barclay Sphinx. Upon spying Bianca, Michelle drew away from the producer as if she’d been burned and hurried toward the gate. “Oh, honey,” she said with a big frown, “I’m so, so sorry.”