“Trixie, get your ass in here!” Eddie bellowed at me from inside his office the minute I showed up for work the next morning. He was looking particularly repulsive as he had bits of egg clinging to his once-white t-shirt. I stepped into his office, and he slammed the door behind me, causing my hackles to raise several inches. I didn’t like being enclosed in a small space with a man I didn’t trust, but he was the one paying my checks. As long as he kept his greasy paws to himself, I would put up with his odious self.
“Yes, Eddie?” I asked, keeping my voice this side of civil.
“Tell me all you know about Lydia,” he barked. “And what’s this about you guys switching costumes? You know that’s against the rules.” He made it sound like we had embezzled a million dollars from the company or something heinous like that.
“Eddie, I told the cops everything I knew,” I said, not feeling the least bit guilty for lying to the son-of-a-bitch. “Can I just get on with my job?”
“You don’t stop copping an attitude, and you won’t have a job any longer,” Eddie said, his tone terse. I looked at him, wondering why he was so upset. It wasn’t as if he even liked Lydia or anything like that. I knew murder wasn’t good for business, but it didn’t have anything to do with him. I took a second look at him as he was sweating profusely. I wondered if he was hiding something, something that might be connected to Lydia’s killing. “You and Lydia were close. Tell me what you know.”
“I don’t know anything,” I repeated, my voice harsh. He was creeping me out, and I wanted to get out of the office.
“She must have said something to you. Was she the one who suggested that you changed costumes? Or was that you?” By now, Eddie’s face was bathed in sweat, and he was giving off a decidedly pungent smell.
“I don’t remember, Eddie,” I said softly, narrowing my eyes. “Why is it so important to you?”