The active part of my thoughts fell on getting back to Darrin. Though he might have disagreed (at least in an official sense), he was my partner in all of this. If Debra’s people found out about Darrin (and I believed they did), then I needed to regroup.
It meant that we either had people on our side that we could use, or people who we’d need to make sure weren’t in our way.
In either regard, I needed some face time with that cocky sheriff.
Unfortunately, since he was the cheapest guy in three counties, his bargain basement phone plan didn’t have service out here. So, no matter how many times I tried to call him as I entered the common area, all I got was the infuriating sound of his voice telling me that ‘If this is an emergency, please either contact the sheriff’s department directly or dial 911’.
“Useless,” I muttered, stuffing the phone back into my bag.
With Debra’s warning still fresh on my mind, I tried to keep a low profile as I strode back toward the kitchen. Though I doubted Niles would try to reprimand me again this soon, that didn’t mean the fact that I was traipsing back and forth in portions of the house where kitchen staff was implicitly forbidden wouldn’t raise a few eyebrows among the other guests.
I had, after all, made something of a point of believing Darrin’s take on Chloe’s disappearance and, judging by the rollicking nature of the growing crowd as I passed through the room, that still wasn’t a very popular sentiment.
What would it take to get these people to believe that poor Chloe had been kidnapped?
Picking up the pace, I decided I needed to make a beeline for the utility room. Debra said that was where I could find Darrin and, if her people were as invested in finding Chloe as she seemed to be, then maybe they had found something in the security footage.
“It’s not like he could call me if he did,” I muttered, once again cursing his service provider.
But, as I was about to dart off into the kitchen, I saw a familiar stack of stylized blond hairweaving through the hallway. Of course, it was attached to one of the most outlandish people in the building.
Priscilla was making her way into Chloe’s room. Though, unlike me-who had to coerce the guards with the scent of sweet treats, all she had to do was bat her eyelashes and give each of them a suggestive pat on the shoulder.
Why I couldn’t have been reincarnated as a leggy blonde was beyond me. It sure would have made things a lot easier.
I started toward the room, eyeing the guards and wracking my brain to figure out what I could do.
Peggy was starting to get finger foods out, so I couldn’t play on their aching tummies anymore.
Still, there was more than one way to outwit a pair of guys, especially snooty rich ones.
Eyeing a small vase sitting on a marble top counter, I plucked it up and started tossing it back and forth between my hands.
Though the rest of the party didn’t seem to mind, the guards definitely took note of me, probably because I was galloping right toward them playing hot potato with an object that was probably just south of priceless.
“Do you know anything about this?” I asked, and this time I tossed it into the air a little before catching it.
Just for show.
“It’s from the Ming dynasty, it’s worth more than three of you, and it’s not a toy,” one of the guards said. “Now I’m going to have to insist you hand it over right this instant!”
“Hey now,” I started, still tossing the stupid thing back and forth. “There’s no need to be rude. It’s just a flower pot. My grandma has one just like it. I think she got hers from Target, though. I’ll have to tell her about that Ming dynasty place. Is it close to the Dress Barn?”
“It most certainly is not!” One of the guards yelled, snatching the vase out of my hands. “There are so many things wrong with that sentence that I’m not even sure where to start. So, I’ll just ask you not to touch anything!”
“Anything?” I asked, quirking my mouth to the side. “Like, at all? That probably goes for the glass ice cream bowls in the backroom too, right?”
“I-ice cream bowls?” he asked. “Do you mean the crystal tureen that was given as a personal gift to this club by Grace Kelly and the Prince of Monaco?”
I seriously thought he was going to have a heart attack.
“Before its arrival, it had been in the royal family for centuries.”
“Really?” I asked, tilting my head. “I hoped that doesn’t make the punch taste funny.”
“Oh…oh no…” one of the guards said, almost shuddering off into another plane of existence. His face got red. His words grew stammered. “You…you…”
Then he just ran off, presumably to check on Grace Kelly’s crystal party set, with the other guard chasing off behind him, vase still in hand.
Ducking into the room, I closed the door behind me.
Priscilla sat on Chloe’s bed, flipping through the photo album, the same album where Peggy found the threatening letter she left.
“And just who are you?” she asked, looking up at me. She obviously didn’t recognize me from brushing past me at the lake earlier, but that didn’t surprise me even a little.
“My name is Rita Redoux, ma’am. I’m a detective of sorts, and you’re going to tell me exactly what you know about the disappearance of Chloe Covington.”
“What exactly is a ‘detective of sorts’?” she asked, unaffected by my accusation. “Is that like a struggling actress or something? Do you wait tables on the side?”
“No!” I blanched. “I…I deliver pies.”
“Figures,” she shrugged.
“That’s neither here nor there,” I continued, moving closer to her. “Now tell me what you know about her disappearance.”
“Did someone hire you or are you just trying to get famous out of all this because, I’ll tell you right now, a reality show isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“I’m working in conjunction with the Second Springs police department. We’re the only people who seem to be taking this case seriously,” I said, starting to get fed up with the way she was skating my question.
“You mean that delicious slice of sheriff who stood up to Mr. Covington in the kitchen?” She chuckled. “I’m sure glad somebody gave that old fogey a piece of his mind.” She shook her head. “Not that it did you any good. But I will admit, you do seem to be the only people even remotely interested in getting to the bottom of this. Lord knows that when I brought my suspicions up to Sheriff Black, all I got was a condescending pat on the shoulder and a pinch on the butt. Not that that surprises me.”
“Ma’am,” I said, trying not to fume too much. “I have asked you twice already. Now you are going to answer me. What do you kno—”
“I get it,” Priscilla said, closing the album and using both hands to make sure her hair hadn’t fallen out of place, which seemed like an impossibility to me. “You read the magazines, you watch the show, and you naturally think I want Chloe dead or something. That I definitely would want to embarrass her on her wedding day, because that’s the type of person I am. I’m a cold, money grubbing shrew who only married her husband for the cash and who’s so insecure about where she came from, she can’t stand anybody who has ‘real money.' That’s what you think, right?”
“Don’t know you. Don’t know your show,” I answered flatly. Still, something about the rawness in her voice made me feel bad. Being painted with a brush you didn’t deserve could be horrible, but what could it drive someone to do?. “I haven’t been very pop culture inclined the last couple of years. So you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t get the whole ‘Real Southern Debutantes’ frenzy that’s colored everyone’s views. Right now, the only assumptions I’m making about you are that you wear too much makeup and you don’t seem to want to answer my question.”
“My stylist would fight you on half of those,” she answered. “As for your question, I didn’t have anything to do with Chloe’s disappearance. And, if you knew anything about
who I really was-or even who Chloe really was- you’d know that was true.”
“The only thing I know to be true, ma’am, is that you left her this.” I fished through my bag and pulled out the purple note. “A letter that you wrote accusing Chloe Covington of doing something horrible. I happen to think you blackmailed her for it.”
“Then you’re stupider than I thought,” she answered. “Because I didn’t write that letter for Chloe. I wrote it for Daniel.” She crossed her arms. “I wanted him to know that I knew about his affair.”
12
I stood there, mouth agape and blinking hard. Staring at Priscilla, I was sure I had misheard her.
There was no way Daniel was having an affair. Not him, not someone so seemingly sweet, so devoted.
I didn’t really know him. That was true enough. But I was a good judge of character. It was what made me good at this sort of thing.
Of course, I would have never imagined that Harvey would have been capable of the things he was, and I had more interaction with Angela than I had with Harvey before I realized what her role in all of this was.
I thought back to the last time I saw Harvey, to watching Priscilla walk away from him, fuming with anger. To the cut stretching across her cheek that now seemed less harmless than it had before.
Was it possible that he was having an affair? Had Chloe found out about it and, in order to stop from being embarrassed on his wedding day, he scooped her up and took her somewhere?
I had seen Daniel at roughly the same time Chloe had been found missing, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t kidnapped her beforehand.
I thought about the last time he saw her again, about his staring out at the lake.
What was he staring at?
A shudder ran through my body, and it took all I could do to stop from giving in to it.
I needed to stay stoic about this, to remain impartial. After all, I had been warned that Priscilla would lie about this sort of thing and-if she was responsible for Chloe’s disappearance- then this sort of red herring would be exactly what she’d throw out at me.
“I don’t believe you,” I answered, though that wasn’t entirely true. Blinking again, I hoped she couldn’t see the indecision in my eyes. I hadn’t really had them long enough to be able to mask them like I could with my old ones.
“I don’t care,” she shook her head. “If you want to walk around with your head in the gossip column sand like some magazine addicted lemming, I won’t stop you. Honestly, I don’t care to.” She stood. “Keep looking at me like I’m the most obvious subject and see what where that road takes you. If you actually believe I’m capable of hurting that girl, then I hope you’re not the only person on the case because, if so, Chloe won’t ever be found.”
“I was taught by the best, Priscilla,” I said, staring at her unblinkingly and thinking of my father. “And he told me to believe in the basics. Right now, the basics are that I have a handwritten letter that was found in the victim’s photo album that threatens to uncover a secret. You- a woman who the world knows to have a poor relationship with the victim- wrote that letter. The way I see it, you’re the most obvious suspect for good reason.”
Priscilla looked me up and down, a look on her face like she was sucking a lemon.
“That photo album?” she asked, cocking out her leg and pointing to the photo album on the counter- the only one in the room.
“I don’t see another,” I confirmed.
“Have you actually looked inside of it or was your investigation limited to papers that happened to be sticking out of things?”
I narrowed my eyes. I hadn’t looked through it, but I was sure Peggy had. If there was something odd in there, I’d hope she would have made me aware of it.
Still, I grabbed the album from the counter and flung it open.
Like I suspected, everything was normal. There were countless family photos, a few of her and Daniel, and then a couple of pages filled with newspaper clipping citing her various accomplishments in the entertainment business.
“Your point?” I asked.
“What a detective,” Priscilla scoffed. “Let me ask you a question. When you said you were taught by the best, were you referring to Inspector Gadget?”
“Get to the point,” I barked, album still in hand.
“Look behind the pictures, Miss Marple.” She shook her head disgustedly.
I glared at her but did as she asked. Pressing my fingers behind one of the many pictures depicting Chloe as a child standing in front of a carousel, I felt something strange.
There was something behind it. Pinching the paper between my fingers, I pulled it out.
It was a photograph. Staring at it, I was more than a little surprised. It was Chloe and Priscilla. They were standing, arm in arm, smiling at the camera.
I looked back up at her, confusion obvious in my eyes.
“Look at another one,” Priscilla said, her jaw set.
I pulled a second picture from behind a photograph. Chloe and Priscilla again, shooting thumbs up at the camera. A third one showcased them and a few other women toasting with smiles on their faces.
“Don’t believe everything you see on television, Rita.” Priscilla shook her head. “We all have our parts to play on the show, but the truth is, we couldn’t be closer. That’s not what the world wants to see, though. They want to see us at each other’s throats. We’re all supposed hate each other because women can’t ever get along, especially rich women.” She sat back down on the bed. “But that’s not how it is, especially not with Chloe. She was the youngest of us, and we were all really protective of her.” She glared at me. “Especially me. I made a decision when I was younger. I gave my daughter away. I’ve never regretted it because I couldn’t have given her the life she needed. Yet I’d be lying if I said I never wondered what it would be like to have her in my life. Chloe lost her mom when she was a baby. She died giving birth to her.”
“So did mine,” I answered softly. I hadn’t thought about that in a while, especially with all that had been happening lately. But the truth was, losing my mom had always been something that had chipped away at me. It was hard and, as it turned out, Chloe knew that pain all too well herself. Suddenly, I felt close to the debutante in a way I never had before or even thought possible.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Priscilla answered. “The thing was, she needed a mother figure, and I was aching for the daughter I’d lost. It probably wasn’t right and, if you don’t want to believe me, that’s alright too. But I started looking at that girl like she was my own. So, when I saw the messages on Daniel’s phone, I had to confront him.”
“Why not just tell Chloe?” I asked because I did believe that Priscilla was telling the truth. I could see it in her eyes, in the tears forming in them.
“Because I’ve made mistakes, too. When I was younger, I wasn’t the most faithful person in the world. Even with my husband now…” She looked down at her hands. “But I changed, and now I’m happier. I wanted to give Daniel that chance. I wanted Chloe to have the man she loved, if she could.”
Something both warm and sad filled my heart.
Priscilla swallowed hard.
“Do you think Daniel had something to do with Chloe’s disappearance?”
“Honestly, I don’t know,” I said. “Who was he cheating with?”
“I have no idea,” she admitted. “He wouldn’t tell me. He wouldn’t even admit it was true, but I know.” She shook her head again. “I should have said something. I should have told Chloe. If I had, then maybe that sweet girl would be here now.”
“He’ll tell me,” I said, steeling my eyes over. “I’ll go to him, confront him with the evidence and your accusations and, if he had anything to do with Chloe’s disappearance, I’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“I’m coming with you,” Priscilla said, standing again.
“I wish you wouldn’t,” I answered. “If he’s the kidnapper, confronting him could get dangerous.”
“You think I care about that?” Priscilla asked, her eyes bulging. “You’re the only person here taking this seriously. That girl has no mother, and her father’s head is too far up his butt to even admit something is happening. I’m taking this to the end. Chloe deserves at least one person who’ll stand up for her.”
“Fair enough,” I said, and suddenly the big hair and generous makeup wasn’t all I saw anymore. There was something else there too, something that impressed me.
We moved back into the common area. I didn’t feel as out of place anymore. Whether that was because this was about the 15th time I had been through here this morning or because walking side by side with someone like Priscilla gave me more credibility than being by myself would, I didn’t know.
It didn’t matter, though. After so long, I had a lead I could get behind. I didn’t like it. The thought of Daniel doing something to his bride to be just hours before the ceremony turned my stomach and broke my heart in equal pieces. Plus, if it was Daniel, then there was absolutely no chance that the ransom bid was valid. That mean that the chances of Chloe having already met a bad end had spiked.
The room was even more crowded than it had been before and, where earlier people had been scattered throughout the area, now they seemed to be gathering toward the front.
Looking that way, I saw a projector set up and a white canvas strewn across the far wall.
“Chloe’s idiot father put together a montage celebrating the ‘happy couple’” She put air quotes around the last two words. “It’ll be painful to watch.”
“Maybe,” I answered. “But it’ll give us cover while we confront Daniel.” I scanned the room for him but came up empty.
Before I could ask Priscilla if she saw him, the room went dark.
I waited for some sappy Carpenters song to start playing or something, coupled with pictures of Chloe and Daniel, on a beach maybe. Instead, what I saw was much more unsettling.
Twice Layered Murder Page 7
