I almost immediately ran into Jill when I veered off toward the ballroom, and not just metaphorically. She was heading one way and I the other, sneaking (yes, I admit I was sneaking) into the staging area set up in the ballroom while she was doing what I could only guess were her rounds. Our matching squeaks of surprise made me giggle and, for a moment, she matched my humor, though hers quickly faded when she settled into a more judging persona.
"I can't let you in here, Fee." Since when? I didn't like the frown now pulling at her lips or the scowl making her eyes look small under heavy brows, the bully expression nothing like the woman I'd befriended over the last few years. The Jill I'd come to know and admire was open-minded, smart as a whip and ready to do what it took to solve a crime. I felt instead like I was staring into the face of a brick wall, immovable and inflexible under that dark suit she wore.