A cold chill washed through me. They can’t be talking about the wedding now. Not without Vicki and Mason present.
Could they?
“Where did you hear this?” I asked, realizing that, yes, this was exactly the sort of thing Gina and Frederick would do.
I could hear the smug smile in her voice when Rita said, “I have to protect my sources, dear.”
I could have pressed, but decided against it. Let her have her moment. “Do you know who all is going to this thing?” With Vicki at the police station, Mason behind bars, and me being, well, me, I had a bad feeling where this was going.
“Those out-of-towners, for sure,” Rita said. “I also heard tell of Regina Harper and Raymond Lawyer heading that way too. It’s why I’m sure it has something to do with the wedding. Why else would they be there when they have nothing else in common with those people?”
I was actually pretty impressed by her information, if it was accurate. Although, it did make me wonder how extensive Rita’s network really was. Regina and Raymond wouldn’t be happy to know people were watching them or, at least, reporting on where they were going. Heck, I wouldn’t be happy either. But right now, I was thankful for the tip.
“Thanks, Rita,” I said, pulling into my driveway. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to be staying home for long, not if there was something going on that might affect Vicki’s wedding. Things were already bad enough without Mason and Vicki’s parents making it worse.
“No problem, dear. I’ll let you know as soon as I learn something more.”
We hung up and I got out of my car, noting the rental was back so Dad and Laura were home. Apparently, they were the only out-of-towners not invited to the little get-together at Vicki’s house. I didn’t know why that bothered me so much, but it did.
I entered to find Dad and Laura sitting on the couch, watching yet another movie. Either they really enjoyed relaxing together, or I seriously needed to reconsider my entertainment options around the house.
“Hey, Buttercup,” Dad said, pulling his arm from around Laura’s shoulder. “Missed you at breakfast.”
“Sorry about that,” I said. “Something came up.” I briefly told him about Mason’s arrest.
“That’s terrible,” Laura said. “Why would someone do that, especially right before his wedding?”
“I wish I knew.” My phone rang. “One sec.” I pulled my cell from my purse and noted Paul’s number. My heart jumped. “Paul?” I asked, answering. “What’s going on?”
“We’re letting him go,” he said, sounding as relieved as I felt. “He has multiple eyewitnesses vouching for him, and quite frankly, no one here believed he could have had anything to do with the murder. It just didn’t fit.”
“Thank goodness,” I said, letting my entire body sag against the wall. My knees felt weak and I was decidedly light-headed. It was as if the tension were the only thing keeping me going.
“I have some free time.” Paul sounded hesitant. “Would you mind if I stopped by for a few minutes? I promise I won’t stay long.”
“No, please do.” As much as I wanted to get over to Vicki’s and see what was going on, I wanted to see Paul outside the station. Maybe he could tell me something more about the caller, or perhaps some detail the police had picked up on that would connect with something I’d learned. It was time I spilled everything I knew before someone I cared about ended up behind bars.
“I’ll be there in ten.”
We hung up, but before I told Dad—who was watching me with a curious look on his face—what he’d said, I dialed and pressed the phone to my ear. “Vicki,” I said when she answered. “I heard about Mason.”
“He’s shaken up, but doing good. We both are.”
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Rita told me Gina and Frederick called everyone over to your place to talk. Raymond and Regina are there too.”
“That can’t be good.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“We’ll head there as soon as Mason grabs something to eat. Thanks for letting me know. It’s like the fates are trying to see how far they can push me before I snap.”
“You’ll make it,” I said. “You’re the strongest person I know.”
We said our good-byes, and I finally turned to Dad and Laura and told them the good news.
“That’s a relief,” Laura said. “So, the wedding is still on?”
“It better be,” I said, wondering if there was any way Vicki and Mason’s parents could put a stop to it. Other than butting in and being disruptive, I didn’t think so. Both Mason and Vicki were adults. Their parents could ruin the wedding, and make the both of them miserable, but I didn’t think they could actually put a stop to the thing.
Then again, how long before enough was enough? Unwanted guests, a murder, and now an arrest? There had to be a point where they’d throw in the towel. I desperately needed to step in before it came to that.
“Do you think the real killer tried to frame Mason?” Dad asked.
“It’s likely.” Someone screamed on the TV, briefly drawing my attention, but I was too distracted to actually take the time to watch. “Paul said it was a woman who called in the tip.”
“So, if it was the killer who called, it was either one of the women who came with the Pattersons, or they’re helping one of the men.” Dad rubbed at his chin, brow furrowing in thought. “Or it could be someone else entirely, a disgruntled neighbor, perhaps.”
“Which doesn’t really help us,” I grumbled. Not unless that neighbor actually had seen something and I could get it out of them. No idea how, but darn it, I was willing to try anything, just as long as it led to Cathy’s murderer.
“I know I didn’t get to know them all that well,” Laura said, “but I can’t see any of the women killing anyone. They’re rude, but not hateful, or even violent.”
“I got that impression too,” Dad said.
I had to agree. As much as Lyric rubbed me the wrong way, she didn’t seem the type to commit murder. The same went for Sage. I could see Lyric covering for someone if she thought it would help her in some way, however.
A car door slammed outside and I opened my front door to wait for Paul. He looked haggard, and tired. “Krissy,” he said, stepping inside. He removed his hat when he saw Dad. “Mr. Hancock. Ms. Dresden.”
“Officer Dalton,” Dad said. “Is there anything we can do to help?”
“I’m afraid not,” Paul said. “At this point, we’re chasing our tails. No one saw anything, and without evidence, all we have is speculation.” He looked at me. “I’m assuming you haven’t come up with anything concrete either?”
I blushed. Of course, he knew I’d been snooping around, asking questions. “Nothing,” I admitted.
He sighed, eyes drifting toward the television, which was still on in the other room. He frowned as a high-pitched, nasally voice begged a man in a pair of tight leather pants to save the children.
“That’s it,” he said, taking a step toward the living room.
“What’s it?” I asked. I had no idea what was playing on my TV, other than the fact it was terrible. The brief snatches of dialogue I’d caught were stiff and stilted, the camera shots shaky. We’re talking B-movie material, if not worse.
“That woman’s voice. That’s the one who called in the tip.”
I spun to Dad, heart doing a little hiccup. “What are you watching?”
“Your friend Jules brought over a movie called The Pirate Heist,” he said. “Apparently, you two talked about it and he thought you might find it amusing to watch.”
“One of the actors who came with us is in it,” Laura added. “Jacques Kenway. He’s not very good.”
Even as she said it, Jacques came into the picture. He smiled directly at the camera before delivering a wooden line about doing what was right and saving not just the children, but the world.
“That’s not it,” Paul said. “It was the woman’s voice, the beggar.”
I hurried over to the couch and picked up the remote. I rewound until I was back at the begging of the scene. The woman’s face was obscured, but her voice was clear as day. I, however, didn’t recognize it in the slightest.
Paul did.
“That’s the one,” he said, pointing. “Who is that?”
I rewound again and watched intently as the woman whined. She was shrouded from head to foot, so her body was completely covered, all but her face, which was turned away from the camera. All that could be seen was the vaguest of features; nothing we could go on to identify who it was.
Still, I found something familiar about her, something I couldn’t put my finger on. I could tell it wasn’t Gina; I’d recognize her anywhere. And while it might be Lyric Granderson, I doubted it. This woman held herself differently, almost awkwardly, like she was too embarrassed to be seen.
If I was in this movie, I’d be embarrassed too, I thought as I pressed fast-forward. Lyric was self-centered and wouldn’t want anyone to see her looking like a common beggar woman.
I supposed it could be Sage Herron. If so, she’d masked her voice, but as I said, this wasn’t a good movie. She probably wouldn’t want any of her friends to know she was in it.
I zipped through the rest of the film, not stopping until the end credits rolled. I then set it to play at half speed.
No one spoke as we watched the names roll by. It was ponderously slow, but I was afraid to go any faster, just in case it wasn’t immediately obvious who we were looking for. The woman had a line, so I was guessing she’d be listed in the end credits, but from what I saw, it was unlikely she was playing anything more than a bit part, meaning there was no specific character name to look for.
“There,” Paul said. “Pious woman.”
We read the name next to it together.
“Who’s that?” Dad asked with a frown.
“I don’t recognize it either.”
I looked back at the others, eyes wide, as pieces started to fall into place. Then, without even bothering to stop the movie, I hurried for the door. I turned when no one moved. “Come on,” I said. “I think I know who killed Cathy Carr.”
26
I was first to arrive at Vicki’s place, my mind jumping from conclusion to conclusion. I had no real proof of who’d killed Cathy, but that one name had triggered something, a memory of scripts and actors, that I hoped would all connect once I confronted them about it. While I’d said I thought I knew who had done it, that wasn’t entirely the case. I had my suspicions, though, and that was good enough for me.
Mason’s car was parked just ahead of mine, telling me he and Vicki had already arrived. Beyond that, I saw Raymond’s vehicle, and then various rentals, almost all of them silver.
Paul pulled in beside my car, leaving just enough room for Dad to pull his rental in behind him. Dad and Laura could have stayed behind, but I was glad he was going to be here to back me up. This was already going to be challenging enough on my own, so his support meant a lot.
“Are you going to tell me what this is all about?” Paul asked, getting out of his car.
“I will once we’re inside and I can see their faces.”
Paul crossed his arms and gave me a stern frown. “Are you holding back on me, Krissy? If you know something, you should tell me. I don’t want this getting out of hand.”
“Trust me,” I said, resting a hand on his arm. If I told him what I had was mere conjecture, he might turn and walk away. I couldn’t do this without him. In fact, I wouldn’t do it without him. There was no telling how the killer might react if and when I got them to confess.
“Krissy,” Paul warned, but I was already moving toward the door.
It probably would have been better to simply tell Paul my theory, but then again, we were dealing with actors here. They’d enjoy the drama. Well, the innocent ones would, anyway. The killer, not so much.
Admittedly, I did have ulterior motives for wanting to do this in dramatic fashion. A lifetime of the Pattersons looking down on me, of chiding Vicki for spending her time with someone as lowly as myself, was grating on me. I thought that if I were to show them I wasn’t a total loser, that I could discover who’d killed their friend all on my own, then maybe they’d treat me with a tiny bit more respect. I didn’t think anything would ever make them actually like me, but if it stopped the looks and the constant put-downs, I’d take it.
So, yeah, this time, it was going to be all about me.
I didn’t bother knocking. I pushed open the door and strode inside, hoping Paul, Dad, and Laura would follow without comment.
They did.
“No!” Vicki shouted from the dining room. “You have no right to do any of this.”
“We’re only doing what’s best for you, Victoria,” Gina said.
“It’s all for the best,” Regina added, sounding as if nothing could sway her and that her opinion was the only one that mattered.
“It’s our decision,” Mason said. “Not yours. I don’t care who you are, none of you have any right to step in like this.”
“Mason, sit down,” Raymond barked.
“No!”
I rushed into the room before the argument could completely blow up. Mason and Vicki were standing at the head of the table, Vicki’s army of porcelain dolls looking on behind them. Mason’s face was bright red and a vein was pulsing in his temple. Right then, he looked a lot like his dad, which was kind of frightening. Raymond Lawyer wasn’t someone you messed with, and if Mason had some of his dad in him, that meant he could be a serious force to be reckoned with when he wanted to be. I only hoped he never turned that stubborn forcefulness onto Vicki, or else we’d have some words.
The others were sitting around the large dining room table, looking on as if amused and, in some cases, confused by the display. Raymond and Regina were nearest me, backs my way. Lyric sat to their right, followed by Jacques and Vince. Gina and Frederick were across from them, with a horrified-looking Heidi between Frederick and Regina. Trey and Sage sat across from one another, on either side of Mason and Vicki. If the table was any smaller, they all wouldn’t have fit.
“She’s a perfectly nice girl,” Raymond said. “And you’re insulting her by your refusal to see reason.”
“I’m insulting her? She doesn’t even want to be here!”
By the look on Heidi’s face, I’d agree.
Knowing things weren’t going to get any better if I waited them out, I cleared my throat, drawing every eye in the room. Vicki and Mason looked relieved to see me. Everyone else, not so much.
“Oh. You.” Gina frowned as she looked past me and to Paul. “Who called the police?” Her accusatory gaze swept to Vicki.
“I did,” I said.
“Why would you do that?” Frederick asked. “There’s nothing wrong with having an adult conversation.” He glanced at Vicki when he said “adult” as if he thought her refusal to do as they said made her little more than a child.
“No, there’s nothing illegal about that,” I said. Though I’d argue that there was something wrong with trying to force your children to marry someone else, just because you liked one match over the other. This wasn’t Game of Thrones. “But murder is.”
A look of confusion swept around the table. I watched each face, hoping to catch a sign of guilt, but got nothing. Based on the quality of the actors here, I was actually surprised.
“Are you going to tell us what this is about?” Paul asked, clearly impatient with my method. I didn’t blame him, but I wasn’t going to hurry for his benefit. As sure as I was about the killer’s identity, I could be wrong. I needed to do this right.
“First off, Vicki and Mason are getting married.” I held up a hand to silence Gina when she opened her mouth to speak. “There’s nothing you can do about it.” I took in the Pattersons and Regina and Raymond as I made that statement. “They love each other, and while you might not approve, it’s what they want. If you think their marriage is a mistake, and if it turns
out you’re right, then they’ll figure it out eventually. They should be allowed to make up their own minds on how they want to live, and who they want to live it with.”
“Hear, hear,” Laura said from behind me.
I shot her an appreciative smile. “We all make mistakes,” I went on. “Some of us more so than others.” I walked slowly around the table. All eyes followed me, some with continued confusion, others with annoyance. “Which brings us to the reason I’m here tonight: Cathy’s murder.”
There was no startled gasp, no shout of outrage—only the stares.
“At first, I couldn’t figure out why anyone here would want to kill her. She was annoying, sure, and many of you fought with her, but was that reason enough to kill her? Why here? Why not in California, where there were a whole lot more people to blame it on?”
“No one here would have harmed her,” Gina said.
“Really? What about Sage and Trey? They believe she stole from them, ruined their wedding even. Wouldn’t that be cause to be outraged?”
“I never harmed a hair on her head,” Trey said, his tone of voice telling me he was offended. Sage nodded, but did look decidedly nervous, like she wasn’t entirely sure about that.
“I believe you,” I said, which caused Sage to suck in a relieved breath. “While you disliked her, and thought she stole from you, it did happen a long time ago. You argued with her before boarding your flight, but at this point, it’s just a sore point between you. Killing her wouldn’t get you your jewelry back.”
Trey put an arm around his wife and pulled her close, eyes hard while he watched me. Just because I’d declared him innocent, that didn’t mean he liked me bringing up his grievance with the deceased in front of everyone else. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be getting a Christmas card from him any time soon.
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