Fame and Fortune and Murder

by Patti Larsen

  It was clear enough from the first sentence she uttered I could actually make out what the fuss was about.

  “How dare you ask me such questions, Sheriff Turner.” She literally huffed like a bull, shoulders twitching inside her precise suit coat. “Or accuse me in any way of murdering our very special guest. I can have you fired for such insolence.” Her eyes flickered to me, only then noticing I’d joined them, something I didn’t like at all flashing there before she spoke again, hurried and passionate. “Fee was in the carriage with him, not me. Why aren’t you asking her questions?”

  Did Olivia just try to throw me under the bus? I should have been furious, but all I could do was snort in shock and shake my head while Crew scowled at me then her.

  “Fiona had no reason to kill Skip,” he said. “And you didn’t answer me, Mayor Walker.” Crew’s temper flared at last. I didn’t often see him angry with anyone aside from me, so it was interesting to watch with an outsider’s perspective. Yup, there was the left eye twitch and, right on cue, the forehead vein. So this was no show for her benefit. “Why didn’t you disclose the termination of contract to your own police department?”

  “Because I wasn’t taking no for an answer,” she snarled. “All right? I was still in negotiations with Evelyn, trying to get Skip to change his mind. And the fact he came with Willow for the shoot made me think he had done just that.”

  “Except,” I said, “it turned out he only came to humiliate us and make a mess of the whole campaign.”

  Olivia flinched. “The council agreed to give me latitude,” she said.

  “So the council knew.” Crew’s anger was gone. Face cold and impassive suddenly. Entire body tense. “But I didn’t warrant a need to know.”

  She paused a long moment, the heat of anger between them now a chill that reached me from across the foyer.

  “I’m doing the job you hired me to do,” Crew said, shutting down almost completely, a solid mask settling over his features, a deeply cold and professional tone echoing from his voice. “And I am more than willing to speak directly to the town council about my present position if it comes into question. But from now on I will demand the kind of respect for what I’m trying to do for this town to be the norm, Mayor Walker, and not the exception.”

  Even Dad looked floored and then troubled as Crew spun and walked away from her and stalked from the foyer and into the kitchen.

  “Olivia.” I didn’t realize Mom had joined us until I heard that deeply disappointed tone in the single word she spoke.

  Our mayor didn’t respond aside from flinching slightly.

  “I would hope,” Dad said, walking past her toward the kitchen himself, “the damage you’ve just done to your relationship with our county’s sheriff isn’t permanent, Olivia. Because I’ll tell you one thing.” He paused and looked back over his shoulder, looming over me as he did. “He’s the best cop I’ve ever had the luck to work with and you’re a fool to cut him out when you should be asking for his help.”

  Dad left then, Olivia glaring, but between her, Mom and me, the feeling of desperate regret was palpable.

  “I had it handled,” Olivia said like that fixed everything.

  “You certainly did,” Mom said. “Everyone’s completely impressed, Olivia.” She left me there, not hurrying but returning to the kitchen herself. I should have gone with her, but the train wreck unfolding in front of me felt like something someone needed to watch.

  “They don’t understand,” Olivia said. “The pressure I’m under.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t give you permission to treat the people who are trying to help you like crap, Olivia. You’re lucky if the council doesn’t agree with Crew on this. Especially if anyone else of influence decides to speak up about what happened.” Did she realize the position she’d put our town in? “You set us up to look like idiots. I’ve been on your side for the most part, happy to see Reading on the map. But there comes a time when the pursuit of more leads you down a dark road. And I think you’re on it.”

  My turn to exit stage left. I had no idea if she actually heard me but it wasn’t my job to make her understand. Or to educate her, even. She had to learn for herself there were lines you didn’t cross. And keeping secrets like this from those who needed to know—to the detriment of everything you yourself had built—was beyond misguided.

  Might be time for an election.

  I found Mom, Dad, Crew and Daisy drinking coffee in my kitchen, Petunia at my father’s feet, eagerly gulping down the bits of cinnamon cake he fed her. He glanced up, a guilty look on his face, and stopped immediately but the lip smacking and bulging eyes of my pug told me he’d been at it long enough she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

  Her farts at least would be legendary.

  Mom’s face fell as she topped up the sheriff’s coffee. “Crew—”

  “Do me a favor, Flemings,” he said before nodding to my best friend, “and Daisy. Let’s talk about the case and not whether I’m going to quit my job and walk out on Olivia Walker.”

  “Can we at least agree she’s not a suspect?” Dad sounded like that amused him greatly. “Though I wouldn’t tell her that just yet.”

  “And I think Fee can be off the list,” Mom said in a prim tone, my favorite mug full and ready. I took it from her, saluted and sipped. “Ditto for myself, I think. And Daisy? Dear, did you kill the football star monster man?”

  She snorted, lips twisting. “Can’t say after hearing what I heard about him I wouldn’t have helped,” she said, “but no. I’m clean.”

  “Excellent.” Mom beamed at us so brightly even Crew chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Now, who’s left?”

  “I know you disagree, Fee,” the sheriff said, “but I like Willow for this. And not just because she’s the obvious choice.”

  “Actually,” I said, feeling the sorrow of my admission as I spoke, “I’m kind of with you. She’s at the top of the pile.”

  “Any fingerprints on the bottle or syringe Fee found?” Dad must have forgotten to feel guilty because he was back to feeding Petunia with an absent look on his face. I smacked his arm and he stopped, quick grin belying the earlier regret.

  He didn’t have to deal with her epic farts in the middle of the night.

  “Nothing,” Crew said. “Wiped clean.”

  “Can we agree Evelyn is too smart to leave evidence in the bathroom only she has access to?” I met four pairs of eyes.

  “Though,” Daisy said after a long silence, hesitant but braver than I’d ever seen her, “wouldn’t that be very smart? To make it look like she wasn’t guilty?”

  “A double blind.” I grinned at her and she lost her reluctant quietness and smile back. “You’re getting good at this.”

  “I should deputize the lot of you permanently,” Crew said. Why did that statement send a zing of yes please down my spine?

  “So, everyone knew Skip was on painkillers. Which means everyone knew how to push him over the edge.” Mom tapped the rim of her coffee cup with one fingertip.

  “But only a few people had access to Quexol,” I said.

  “Evelyn, Matt. Skip. And possibly Willow.” Crew sipped his coffee, so calm I wondered if he was really okay or not.

  “Three suspects,” Dad said. “And we’re no closer to an answer.”

  ***

  Chapter Thirty One

  I really wasn’t in the mood to help Mom make lunch, but there wasn’t much else to be done at the moment. Dad and Crew retreated, Daisy staying with us to help out. No, the whole women in the kitchen thing wasn’t lost on me, but I didn’t have anything to contribute to the investigation that my poor, tired brain could produce so I instead chopped aggressively at vegetables and tried not to think about the murder.

  A nice distraction entered the room in the form of Carter Melnick. He’d traded out his dark suit for jeans and a long sleeved blue shirt, the deep V-neck of the collar showing off his muscular chest in a way that made me blush just fo
r looking.

  “Is Willow all right?” Mom paused with a tray of cookies in her hands, dessert for after ready to go in the oven. I know she likely didn’t mean to sound like she was judging him for being here instead of there, but Carter shrugged and smiled that winning smile at her, his hands sliding into his back pockets while Daisy did her best not to stare.

  Jealous of my bestie? No way. Okay, a little. Growl.

  “She made me come back and watch over the others,” he said. “She has Jill and two state troopers guarding her. Ms. Pink can be quite forceful even when she’s not feeling well. I figured obeying her orders might lead to keeping my job.”

  Mom nodded and turned to slide the tray into the oven. “Smart boy,” she said.

  “I’m happy to help serve again, Mrs. Fleming.” So polite. Mom didn’t seem opposed to the idea and Daisy was doing her best not to flirt. I could tell it was on her mind, but when she looked at him looking at me all instincts to explore that idea died in her eyes. She winked at me and left the kitchen, handing him her knife and letting him finish her job while she left us to the task.

  And that was why I loved her so very much. Best best friend ever in the history of best friends. I’d have to buy her a plaque. Or a bottle of wine. Or her own island.

  “Thanks for the help,” I said, loving that he tucked in next to me, hip almost touching mine, our knives rocking over the mix of veggies Mom required at the same pace. It felt natural and all together familiar. I rather liked it.

  “I used to waiter in another life,” he laughed, deep voice vibrating between us. “I kind of miss it.” He paused, looked around. “It’s really nice you and your parents can work together so well.” He sounded wistful and like he wished he had that sort of relationship.

  “This isn’t our typical arrangement,” I said. “My staff ran for the hills when you lot arrived.” I actually hoped the Jones sisters were enjoying their self-made vacation. Put their feet up, ate some junk food and watched soap operas or sappy movies until this was over. At least someone in this mess might have a good time.

  “But we don’t mind lending a hand when Fee needs us.” Wow, did she have a point she was making? I’d never seen my mother like this before, all officially sweet but with a warning under every word she spoke.

  Well, she’d commented she worried he might be like Ryan. So I guess it was fair enough. Still, she could cut me a bit of slack and let me see where this might go. Not that it had much potential. I felt the wind leave my sails as I accepted he’d be gone shortly anyway, so why did it matter?

  “Do you like working for Willow?” Might as well tear the band aid off and let him stab me in the heart and get it over with.

  “Very much,” he said. “It’s been… educational, to say the least.”

  “How long have you been in her employ?” Ah. Now I understood Mom’s tone. That was the moment her snippy undertone made total sense to me. Because it raised a red flag in my own soul I should have flown high long ago.

  “Only two weeks,” he said and I instantly exhaled my distress that he might be a part of the Skip problem. “The guy before me just vanished.” He shrugged. “They were in a bind so they hired me from the agency.” Bodyguards used temp agencies? Huh. “I wish I’d known he was so cruel to her before I took the job.”

  “So you could turn it down?” Mom wasn’t even trying to hide her frustration now, the tray of sandwiches she’d assembled shivering as she set it down more firmly than was necessary.

  “No,” he said in a soft voice. “So I could have protected her. By the time they hired me to watch her, she was on set and he wasn’t around much. I didn’t find out about the abuse until they got here. Or I’d have done something about it.”

  He sounded intimately angry, as if he had some experience with men who hit women. I set my knife down and touched his wrist, his fingers unclenching from the fist he’d made around his own. Carter looked up and met my eyes, his fury as genuine as mine.

  “Carter.” Mom hesitated then sighed. “I’m sorry, dear.”

  He shook his head, managed to smile and swallow some of his anger. “It’s okay, Mrs. Fleming. I’d jump to that conclusion, too. But that man was a menace from what little interaction I had with him. I’m just happy I was able to be there for Ms. Pink in even a small capacity.”

  “I know you haven’t been with them long,” I said. “But if you had to guess, Carter…”

  He exhaled heavily. “Who do I think killed him?” He seemed to ponder that question carefully, though surely like the rest of us he’d been thinking about it since it happened. “I don’t know enough to say,” he whispered. “But if I were the cops, I’d be asking who hated him the most.” He seemed to snap out of his moment of focus and shrugged. “But if you’re looking for me to point the finger at Ms. Pink, I won’t do it.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to,” I said.

  His answering smile made me warm inside. Down Fee. Pursue the hot guy after the murder was solved.

  My phone dinged, pulling me away from Mr. Delicious who chatted with Mom in a much friendlier tone while I dodged out into the garden to check the text.

  Might have what you’re looking for. The number came up unlisted. Football can be a killer.

  Who the hell is this? I scowled at my phone and awareness triggered before the reply came back.

  Russell, Red. Meet me in our spot tonight after 8. Come alone and I’ll tell you everything.

  We’ll see. And though I didn’t hear back, glaring into the spring sunshine while I waited for the answering text that never came, I knew I’d be out here, behind the fence and meeting Randy Russell tonight. Because I couldn’t help myself.

  ***

  Chapter Thirty Two

  The rest of the day seemed to pass in a blur, and by the time Crew grudgingly stopped interrogating the remaining guests and returned to his office to talk to Mila Martin again, I was ready for bed even though it was only 7PM. We were running low on food supplies, though at least the collection of agents, coach and bodyguard who remained with us seemed to enjoy Mom’s cooking. I didn’t hear any complaints, at least. Maybe they weren’t willing to speak up when Dad hovered in his looming and protective way.

  They preferred instead to gripe about their circumstances, Evelyn and Julian both spending most of their mealtimes on their phones, Matt sitting in dejected silence, Carter off to one corner by himself observing like a good bodyguard. I was tempted to sit with him for my own meals but got the impression he was working despite his more casual attire and let him be.

  Down, girl.

  I took the opportunity to make the rounds like I usually did, checking in on towels and toilet paper, leaving fresh pillowcases by their doors without checking inside. I could have. It would have been easy enough to sneak in and peek around. But I knew anything I found would set Crew off as inadmissible due to illegal search. The bathroom on the third floor was a communal area, so that had been fair game. But to go poking around in the suspect’s bedrooms without cause—especially since I wasn’t deputized yet, damn him—was a useless endeavor.

  Besides, I was well aware Dad and Crew had already gone through their belongings. Those two wouldn’t have left a stone unflipped, so the odds I’d uncover something new were pretty slim.

  Tempting, but nope. Look at me, being a good girl. Crew needed to appreciate me more.

  Petunia wandered after me as she always did, sitting when I stopped for more than a step, heaving herself to her feet and plodding along when I moved on. Despite my best efforts to reduce her chubby self to a more acceptable weight, Mom, Dad and, I suspected, the Jones sisters were making my job nearly impossible.

  I finally returned downstairs to find my guests huddling in separate unhappiness and my parents in the sitting room on the sofa, holding hands and standing watch. I hated to interrupt them, but Petunia happily hopped up on the couch and made herself comfortable. My intrusion was hardly noteworthy after pug butt assault.

  “Daisy ca
lled. She’s picking up supplies.” Mom seemed relaxed enough, though I knew both my parents were accustomed enough to tense situations—she a retired high school principal and he an ex-sheriff—that even if a bomb was about to go off it would take the last ten seconds ticking down for either of them to let me see their terror.

  “Thanks, Mom.” I hesitated. Really should tell Dad about Randy Russell. And decided to find out what the reporter had to say on my own first before I decided if it was worth taking to Crew. “Can you babysit Petunia a bit? I’m going to do some paperwork.”

  “Of course, sweetie,” Mom said.

  “We’ve got this,” Dad nodded.

  I left them there, retreated downstairs and did as I said I’d do. I could hear movement over my head occasionally, the scraping of a chair in the dining room as one or another of the suspects vacated to the stairs. The house had a heartbeat to it that was difficult to miss and, by the time I sorted through another pile of emails that I had to turn down, the grandfather clock’s tolling of the hour of 8PM almost didn’t stir me.

  My phone buzzed, jerking me alert and I swore softly before checking the message. But it wasn’t Randy Russell chewing me out for missing our meeting. The text was from Jill.

  Crew told me to check in. Willow’s fine and Mila Martin lawyered up. He’ll be back in ten minutes or so to relieve your parents. Round the clock watch until Willow is able to answer more questions.

  Thanks, Jill. I stood, pocketing my phone, heading upstairs and creeping into the kitchen. Empty. Mom and Dad had to still be in the sitting room and from the quiet in the dining area everyone else went upstairs. Knowing my parents would kick my butt if they knew what I was about to do, I took a deep breath and went outside, the light triggering over the door as my appearance set it off.

  At least I wasn’t heading to this clandestine meeting in total darkness. That made it a smart choice, right? And I had my phone in case anything went wrong. I paused by the koi pond, Fat Benny slowly circling the edge, and predialed Crew before tucking my phone back in my pocket. Shook my head at the choice of numbers and hurried on toward the fence, telling myself with every step this was a terrible idea and I’d clearly lost my mind.