“I thought this is what you wanted to talk about,” Wendy said with a smirk, holding her pizza wedge toward her mouth. The mushrooms, pepperoni and jalapeños dotted the wedge colorfully. I would not touch that in a million years.
“I did, but not like this,” I said, watching as Nadine got up and went over to pluck another pizza wedge from one of two boxes on the tray my aunt had set up for us. The whole day I wanted to talk about the murder case, but somehow I thought my friends would be more supportive of the detective side of it. Not the dirty, malicious side of Arline and her death.
“Why?” Wendy asked, giving me a slightly challenging look. Earlier, she hadn"t looked as animated. Now, she was on her feet, eating her pizza like she were starving. Maybe she was, as she"d only just gotten
