Remains to Be Scene Read Online Free Page B

throughout Beverly Hills may be shaking in their Pradas until this alleged killing is solved. Now, back to you in the studio,” she said, projecting a straight face that told viewers she honestly believed that the story she just reported was the most important event shaking the planet.
    “They’re making this up as they go along,” Polly groaned, then added, “Who did you say is in the cast of Detention Rules! ?”
    “It’s been repeated all day long,” Tim said, slightly annoyed. He reiterated that Dana Pointer had first become known for posing semi-nude on a billboard that advertised the sex appeal of drinking Johnny Walker Red. Missie Miller, who had cut a CD with the church choir at Harvard, had unexpectedly hit the top of the Christian record charts with the solo portion of “Jesus is The Answer (So Hit the Nail on the Head).” Both girls were summoned to Hollywood as a result of their small notoriety—then started making movies.
    Polly considered all the gossip she’d ever heard or read about the two teen stars—and the massive retouching required of their publicity photos. It was no secret that Dana was notoriously unprofessional. They called her “an alumna of the Shannen Doherty Charm School.”
    Missie, on the other hand, was considered a Julie Andrews knockoff for her sweetness, wit, vocal pipes, and for still living at home and caring for her semi-blind and widowed mother.
    Where Dana was a self-absorbed, club-hopping, paparazzi-bashing, bulimic, nymphomaniac who openly hated Missie’s guts, her co-star was a straight-A Harvard freshman majoring in biochemistry, who had a patent pending for a pill that if tested by Merck might lead to a cure for halitosis. In her spare time, she was the guest first chair violin with the Boston Youth Symphony Orchestra.
    In Dana’s spare time, she appeared in court as the corespondent in divorce suits.
    “And the male lead?” Polly asked. “Jack Wesley,” she answered herself. “They’ve all got reputations.”
    “Ooh, Mr. Jack ‘Sexy’ Wesley,” Placenta said, “Lord knows he’s got the body of a lean grease monkey. But he’s got Charles Manson eyes. They’re completely dead. No depth. But hell, when you’ve got shoulders, abs, biceps, and pecs like what he showed in that underpants billboard ad, nothing else matters.”
    Polly thought about the trio of teen celebrities for a long moment, trying to find a common denominator other than their youth, sex-appeal, and appearing in a movie together. “Sometimes so-called good girls like Missie can’t resist a bad boy like Jack,” Polly said, as if she knew from first-hand experience. “Perhaps the two girls were fighting over the affections of Jack, and maybe Trixie was a third wheel who got in the way,” she said, making up a story that, considering the blank stares of Tim and Placenta, was as farfetched as Britney Spears remaining married for more than half a minute. “Trust me, I’m as intuitive as Jessica Fletcher,” Polly said. “One of those girls was involved in Trixie’s death.”
    Switching back to “Larry King Live,” Tim said, “God help us if this is the kind of media circus we have to look forward to on the day you drop dead, Mother.” He pointed the remote at the television set and clicked to another station—only to find mascara-smudged Liza un-hinged again.
    Polly said, “I’m not afraid to die. It happens to the best of us. But when it’s my time, I expect rioting on Hollywood Boulevard and preemption of ‘Desperate Housewives.’ Make a note of that for my publicist and attorney,” she instructed Placenta. “And swear to me that the coverage of my eventual demise will be more tasteful than this déclassé spectacle.” Polly grabbed the remote from Tim and again switched channels. “I don’t want Larry scraping the bottom of his e-mail list for media whores who don’t really give a damn about me. I’m not inviting Jayne to my memorial service,” she said. “And