Rock Wolf Investigations: Boxset

by Dee Bridgnorth

  “Three thousand dollars?” Rhiannon was suddenly trying to beat them out the door. “I think I’m going to see the police. I’ll see what they have to say about this highway robbery!”

  And just like that Rhiannon Mounds was gone and Adam found himself following a very smug Ellie Pierce to the parking lot.

  Chapter Five

  By the time Ellie followed Adam Cathcart to the Ozark Star Theater, she had put together a game plan in her head. That was how she worked—identify the problem, mitigate that problem in as few steps as possible, and identify the resources.

  Problems. Ha! Kari Jo Mounds had one pain in the behind mother that was likely to be the first identifiable problem. Of course, she could also be the answer. As in, Rhiannon Mounds could be the actual creator of those stupid magazine letters. That’s how Ellie found herself referring to the letters in her mind, as magazine letters. The glossiness of the carefully trimmed pieces of paper used to form the letters were obviously from some magazine. It didn’t necessarily strike Ellie as high quality though, which opened up some interesting possibilities. Ellie just hadn’t identified them yet.

  What sort of woman would try to make it seem like her daughter was being stalked? That was the sort of dubious character who might actually be willing to kill her own kid just to assure her ten minutes of fame. Although, if Ms. Mounds was going to do that she needed to wait until Kari Jo had made it onto a slightly larger stage than an opening act of a Branson Theater show.

  Adam Cathcart pulled into the Ozark Star Theater and parked his car beneath the overhang that protected the theater’s front doors from weather and also provided a bang up place for one of the more enormous marquees in town. Glittering with neon lights even in the daytime, the huge yellow lights and blue chasers shooting down from the star atop the marquee to the scrolling digital message board along the bottom was absolutely gaudy in Ellie’s opinion, but she’d found she rarely shared opinions of good taste with the theater set.

  Ellie shut off her little SUV crossover and got out. Adam was driving a sports car. She didn’t necessarily approve of his choice in vehicle, but maybe he was the sort who made enough money to have a summer and a winter vehicle. Because while it was hot as hell in the summer months, the wintertime had ice storms that could turn the twisting, turning, steeply-pitched streets and roads into a bobsled course.

  “Welcome to the Ozark Star,” Adam Cathcart said with a wry smile. He spread his arms to indicate the big marquee. “As you might notice, Kari Jo’s name is at the bottom in very small letters.”

  Ellie stood back to look at the enormous sign and realized Adam was right. There was a huge digitized message board, but there was also a large video screen that flashed scenes and what appeared to be still photographs of the main act, the Garth Brooks Tribute. The singer and actor who played the country star dressed in some of his more memorable outfits that featured blue and black flames and tight black jeans that were likely designed to show off a seriously attractive backside. Ellie was no judge of that kind of thing. Butts were butts no matter what fabric you stuck them into or wrapped around them. End of story.

  “So, Kari Jo is the second act,” Ellie mused. “Is there a first act?”

  “A comedian actually,” Adam admitted.”

  Ellie found this worth pursuing. “Your client?”

  “No. He doesn’t have a manager. He’s on his own. A nice guy. Ron Skaggs.” Adam Cathcart didn’t seem particularly worried about Mr. Skaggs.

  Ellie decided it was time to state the obvious. “Maybe he’s tired of your client sharing top billing when he doesn’t even make the board?”

  “I doubt it. You can talk to him. He’s a nice guy, older, does this for fun mostly, I think. He likes to get up there and cut up. He talks ridiculous, uses some puppets, and does imitations of people like his younger neighbors and his grandchildren, which means he spends a lot of time giving an older person’s view of the modern world.”

  “Ah,” Ellie mused. “That’s considered pretty damned funny in this day and age.”

  “Right,” Adam agreed. “He’s been a local man for ages now. I think the first time I worked with Ron Skaggs, I’d just moved her from Los Angeles.”

  “Seriously?” Ellie turned to stare at him. She could not see him in LA. “What on earth did you do there?”

  “I was in the music business,” he admitted. Then he gave a short bark of laughter. “Which is just a small way of trying to say I was one of those guys who got totally disillusioned by the life. I… uh… I managed a singer.” He looked very uncomfortable now. He was fiddling with his key fob and turning as though he was ready to walk into the theater and really didn’t want to talk about anything else to do with his former life.

  “What made you leave LA?” Ellie called out, refusing to follow along until he at least gave her something to go on.

  Then Adam turned and stared at her for a long moment. “The musical artist was my wife. She overdosed on drugs and died. I was tired of the life. I grew up coming to Branson as a kid because my grandparents had retired to Tablerock Lake. I still owned the house I’d inherited from them years before and we kept it as a vacation rental. I renovated, moved in, and never looked back.”

  Ellie felt ten kinds of horrible for making him tell her all of that. Consequently, she hurried along behind him now. “Thank you for the information. I do think we should chat with Ron Skaggs though. Could you introduce me? He might have been around enough to have seen something important.”

  “Right. Sure.”

  He sounded subdued and Ellie felt even worse. She thought she had a rough back story. And it wasn’t pretty, but it wasn’t anything like his. Hers was full of angst and stupid teenage choices, but she had never watched a loved one destroy their life and ultimately die because of those bad choices.

  The theater was enormous and probably seated at least three hundred people at a time. As Ellie followed Adam through the center aisle’s double door entry, she wasn’t entirely sure why they were there. There hadn’t been any kind of attack in the theater. She didn’t need to be overly impressed with the venue. So, what was the deal?

  “I wanted to show you how people are getting to the stage to put those letters in Kari Jo’s hands,” Adam told her as he reached the bottom of the stadium slanted seating near the stage. “As you can see, the theater is shaped a bit like a bowl. What happens is that when Kari Jo sings, people get out of their seats and they sort of rush the stage. It’s not exactly legal.”

  “Meaning the fire marshal would have a fit,” Ellie guessed.

  Adam was nodding. “Right. So, Lightman hired a bunch of guys to stand in the aisles and keep people in their seats until the last song. At that point, Lightman agreed that Kari Jo’s fans could sort of funnel on down and try to get close enough to touch her. It was actually something Kari Jo forced us to put in this last six month contract extension. The only way Lightman would allow it was if we gave him an extra two percent gross share of Kari Jo’s souvenir shop profits.”

  “Wow.” Ellie had to stand there and think about all of this for a moment. “I don’t think I ever really thought about how much goes into these things.”

  “What? These shows?”

  But Ellie was shaking her head. “No. The contract stuff. You’re talking about gift shop profits and I hadn’t even thought about that.”

  “Merchandising is huge in Branson,” Adam admitted. “Look around when you’re here and you see the name of the theater or the actor or the singer or the show splattered everywhere.”

  “Very true,” Ellie mused. She was trying to imagine what it would be like to see your name on some random T-shirt worn by someone you didn’t know. “I suppose that makes some people feel good. I think it would totally freak me out.”

  Adam was laughing. “You’re not wrong. I wouldn’t be comfortable with it either. But that’s the price of fame I guess. Kari Jo has been doing this thing where she touches the fan’s hands and I cannot even express to you
the number of responses she gets from people on social media who now feel like they have a connection with her.”

  “Uh huh, and now you have one of them who is so connected that he or she thinks they have a right to expect something back,” Ellie retorted. She walked from one side of the stage to the other trying to decide if there was a way to get into the theater area from one of the wings and bypass having a seat. “So, you’re saying there are bouncers in the aisles?”

  “Yes. Half a dozen of them keeping people in their seats, directing foot traffic, and making sure nobody sneaks in or out. They even hold the doors until breaks between songs for bathroom use.”

  “Damn.” Ellie whistled. “That pretty much rules out the idea of someone getting in here from outside instead of buying a ticket.”

  “But that’s good, right?” Adam was already hustling back up toward the doors. “It means we have some kind of record of that purchase.”

  “Probably,” Ellie said thoughtfully. “I guess it might depend on who and how many people use cash. If the bozo who left those letters is an idiot, there will be a credit card paper trail with his or her name all over it. So, let’s hope for that because it means we’re not looking for a very sophisticated stalker.”

  “And if they used cash?” Adam prompted as he held the theater doors open for Ellie.

  She grimaced. “Then let’s hope there are only two people in the whole world using cash to purchase Branson show tickets right now. That would certainly narrow the field a lot.”

  Adam gave a nod of his head and started toward a long counter marked TICKETS on one end and SHOW OFFICE on the other. There was a young woman sitting behind the desk. Her head was down and she looked absolutely engrossed in what she was doing.

  “Hello, Margo, can I have a minute?” Adam’s polite voice was appealing to Ellie. There was absolutely no demand or rudeness or any other negative thing that she’d seen so far about Adam Cathcart. He was a first rate gentleman.

  Margo looked up from the pile of paper on her desk. She appeared to be comparing it to something on the computer screen. She glanced at Ellie and must have seen the question in her eyes. “Audit,” Margo explained. “We have paper lists with every ticket holder printed out and then late purchases scribbled in, but I have to compare that list with the final list in the computer to make sure we aren’t missing tickets. It’s how we keep track of those outlets. Sometimes they try to sell tickets without actually paying us for them.”

  Interesting. Ellie’s mind immediately filed that one away for later use. Perhaps their stalker hadn’t actually purchased a ticket at all. Maybe he acquired one from a ticket outlet.

  “I know this isn’t going to be a happy request, Margo, but Kari Jo has been having an issue with a stalker and this private investigator needs our help.” Adam spoke in a mildly friendly and even slightly apologetic tone. “Could you possibly help us look for repeat customers in the last four weeks. Someone who might have seen the show multiple times or purchased multiple tickets?”

  Margo’s dead stare seemed to suggest she found this request annoying as hell. Ellie could not blame her. But then the twenty-something woman’s lips twisted into a not so nice smile. “I have to say, Adam, I think you’d be able to find a line wrapped around the building for people who would like to stalk and hurt Kari Jo Mounds. The girl is a heart breaking menace. And if you want records from the box office, you’re going to have to ask Mr. Lightman. I can’t just hand over that information. It’s private.”

  Ellie held up her hand when Adam was about to speak. “I understand completely, Margo. My name is Ellie Pierce. I’m from Rock Wolf Investigations.” Ellie pulled out her business card and set it lightly on the counter. “Could you tell me where we might find Mr. Lightman? It would be best for us to discuss this problem with Harvey anyway.”

  Margo’s expression grew a bit suspicious. “He’s having breakfast at the Ozark Star Restaurant like he does every other morning of the week. You can try to catch him there. Otherwise, you have to call and make an appointment.”

  “With you?” Ellie tried to gauge Margo and whether or not she could be a suspect in this plot to get rid of Kari Jo Mounds.

  Margo sniffed as though Ellie had just insulted her. “I’m not a secretary. I’m a bookkeeper. Thank you very much.”

  “Of course. We’ll just head on over to the restaurant then,” Ellie told Margo. “Thank you so much for you time and help.”

  Margo looked mildly suspicious. “Uh, thanks?”

  Adam didn’t another word, which was good. He just followed Ellie out of the theater’s front doors again and back to the parking lot where this time they turned left and headed for the front doors of the restaurant.

  “Have you at least eaten at the Star before?” Adam asked as they walked inside and the scrumptious scents of bacon, eggs, sausage, and hash browns filled the air.

  Ellie felt her stomach growl. She had skipped breakfast and now it was basically lunch time. “No, but I think I’d like to try it.”

  Adam smiled at her and waved her toward a booth. “Then let’s get you something to eat!”

  Chapter Six

  Adam spotted Harvey Lightman as soon as he walked into the Ozark Star Restaurant. He wasn’t exactly difficult to find. The man sat in the same booth every single morning pretending to hold court like some mafia kingpin in Vegas. Since he owned the place as well as another restaurant and three theaters, all of the showbiz hopeful servers were eager to make sure he was well taken care of. That made his table unmistakable since people almost always surrounded it. Managers stopped by to say hello or to give a brief situation report, while singers, dancers, musicians, and comedians all paid their respects in hopes of getting something out of Harvey Lightman.

  “Wow,” Ellie murmured, as they were seated at a table and picked up their menus. She cut a glance toward Lightman’s corner booth. “They’re all pandering pretty hard, aren’t they? Look at that!”

  Adam exhaled a long sigh. “You’re not wrong. It’s like that almost every day. Everyone wants a piece of the action. Show business is like that. A big machine. It just chews you up and spits you out with no apology.”

  There was a long silence and it took Adam a moment or two to realize that Ellie was staring at him. Ellie… Ms. Pierce. He wasn’t entirely sure when he had started referring to her as Ellie in his mind. He shouldn’t allow himself that sort of familiarity. It wasn’t difficult to imagine her as the sort of woman who wouldn’t appreciate it.

  The waitress, a young woman in her twenties with huge blonde hair and a bright smile and no small amount of energy, arrived at their table. “Hey there, and welcome to the Ozark Star Restaurant. Have you dined with us before?”

  “Oh yes,” Adam said quickly. “Plenty of times.”

  “Well then, thanks for coming back to see us!” the blonde gushed. Her nametag read RUBY. “What can I get y’all to eat this morning? Could I interest you in a pot of our special coffee? How about a carafe of orange juice squeezed just this morning?”

  Adam wasn’t surprised when Ellie ordered bacon and eggs with hash browns and a single biscuit. She struck him as a low carb kind of girl. He ordered his usual stack of pancakes and a side of sausage. They both ordered coffee. Then Ruby was off to her next table, her hair bouncing about twelve inches or more above her head as she moved.

  “I’m exhausted just listening to her,” Ellie murmured after a moment or two. “I noticed that you can’t really get bad service here. At least not rude service. The kitchen might be slow. It might take a while to get your food. But they are never rude. It’s like they’re always on.”

  Adam chuckled. “You’re not wrong there. I think of it like a constant audition.”

  “How awful.” Ellie pursed her lips for a moment. “So, how do we ease into this thing with Mr. Lightman? Do we just approach his table?”

  “No. After we get our food, I’ll send a message with the waitress. Trust me, she will love the excuse to go to Mr. Ligh
tman’s table and talk to him.” Adam could see the thoughts running through Ellie’s mind, but Ruby the waitress returned to set a pot of coffee on the table before he could inquire.

  Ellie immediately poured herself a cup of coffee and lifted it to her lips. She inhaled deeply and then took a swig. Adam couldn’t help but be a little amused by what he considered uncharacteristic drama. She opened her eyes and looked right at him, and then she looked a little chagrined.

  “My coworker, Duke, the one you met earlier this morning, likes this hazelnut stuff that he orders special from some fancy online store. He’s a coffee snob. It’s probably one of the weirdest things about the guy, to tell the truth. He’s so down to earth in every other way. But not with his coffee.”

  “And you like yours plain Jane,” Adam guessed. That wasn’t a big surprise to Adam. “I think I can respect that. Although, I’ll admit to liking a latte or a mocha every now and again. I hit a Starbucks for that though.”

  Ellie smiled at him. “Do you ever miss California? I can’t imagine we have the same kind of selection of anything like they do there. Restaurants, hotels, grocery stores, but we do have outlet malls.”

  “Right.” Adam laughed a little at that. “So, I can make sure I have my IZOD wardrobe fully complete and throw in a couple pairs of Tommy Hilfiger chinos and some Banana Republic shirts just to round out the mix.”

  “Exactly!” Ellie looked ruefully down at her own very plain outfit. “As you can see, I prefer things to be very sedate and unadventurous. Probably my only downfall is shoes.”

  “Shoes?”

  “Oh yes. I don’t buy expensive or fancy. I’m not going to drop five hundred dollars on a pair of stiletto heels by some designer with a name that makes it sound like you’re swallowing each syllable as you say it, but I do like shoes. Lots of them. I like to wear new shoes. I don’t like it when I feel like the insoles are worn out. So, I hit the shoe stores here in town and I shamelessly purchase shoes.”