With Amy’s back turned to the car, it gave me a chance to sneak up on her. I didn’t let that opportunity pass me by. I told Jenna to let me off right in front of the house then directed her to keep driving and park on the sidewalk a few houses away.
I then got out of the car and approached Amy from behind. It turned out that I didn’t just have the element of surprise on my side. Having been interviewed by the detective earlier, I also knew which questions made a suspect the most uncomfortable. I wanted to see if I could use that to my advantage.
“Funny seeing you here,” I said.
My statement startled Amy. I already had her back on her heels, which was right where I wanted her. If I could keep her off balance, it would give me the best chance to get some useful information out of her.
Like me, Amy was a forty-year-old woman with long blond hair, blue eyes, a lean body, and a round face. Unlike me, her acting career had never amounted to much. She had landed a few bit parts on a couple of different TV series over the years, but the majority of her acting credits were from commercials for brooms, laundry detergent, and other household items.
Amy gave me a puzzled look. “Hope, what are you doing here?”
I turned the tables back on her. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”
“I’m here to pay my respects,” Amy said.
I gave her a critical look. “Don’t you find that a little odd?”
“No. In my mind, it would be odd not to pay my respects.”
“But you’re a murder suspect,” I argued.
She acted like this was all news to her. “Says who?”
“Have you forgotten who you’re talking to? I know you never got over him breaking up with you over a year ago. That you desperately wanted him back—”
Amy interrupted me. “I admit it, I loved him. I still do.”
“Yet you act like you aren’t a suspect in his murder.”
“I’m not. When you love someone, the last thing you’d ever want to do is kill them.”
“Only, he didn’t love you back, and we both know what can happen when love goes wrong.”
She glared at me. “How dare you accuse me of murder?”
I fired right back at her. “No. How dare you just show up here and act like you couldn’t possibly be a suspect? You tried to steal him away from me. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that.”
Amy didn’t back down. “So what, you came here to start a fight? What Trent deserves more than anything right now is peace.”
On that point, I agreed. “Yes, he does.”
The verbal cease-fire stopped there. “Besides, like you should talk. As his girlfriend, you had more motive to kill him than anyone.”
I was completely taken aback by that accusation. “How do you figure?”
“I watch a lot of crime shows—enough to know that murders like this are usually committed by the jilted significant other.”
I had to hand it to her, she brought up an interesting point. That was without her even knowing that Trent had broken up with me last night. As far as I could tell, she still believed Trent and I were a couple at the time of the murder. I wasn’t going to clue her in on the truth. That didn’t work to my advantage.
Either way, Amy was clearly geared up for a fight, so I took the figurative gloves off.
“I know you want me to believe that you’re here to pay respects, but what if you’re just using that as a cover because you’re worried that you left a piece of incriminating evidence here last night?”
Amy played dumb. “What are you talking about?”
“You said it yourself, you watch a lot of crime shows. So you should know that murder suspects often get paranoid and return to the scene of the crime after the fact.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m paying my respects. I already told you that.”
“That’s what you keep saying, at least. But talk is cheap unless you can back it up.”
“How do you expect me to do that?” Amy asked.
“With one answer,” I said.
“What’s the question?” she asked.
“Where were you between nine and ten o’clock last night?”
She deflected. “I don’t have to answer you.”
“No, you don’t.” I pulled out my cell phone and got ready to dial a number. “The police aren’t as easy to avoid.”
She tensed up. “You wouldn’t call them.”
“Try me. I’ll bet they would be interested to hear that I found you here outside the scene of the crime so soon after Trent’s murder.”
I was taking a serious gamble by calling her out like this. My hope was that she didn’t call my bluff. The last thing I wanted was for Detective Noble to know that I was investigating this case on my own.
“But, you’re here at Trent’s house, too,” Amy argued.
“True, but I have an alibi for the time of the murder. And, unlike you, I really am here to pay my respects,” I replied.
It was a complete lie, but Amy didn’t know that.
I continued. “Now, where were you last night between nine and ten?”
Luckily, she bought my lie and was intimidated enough by my bluff to answer my question.
“I was at home,” she said.
“Alone?” I asked.
Amy was slow to answer but eventually replied.
“Technically,” she said.
“So, you have no one to verify your alibi, then, do you?”
Her voice became scratchy. “I didn’t do this.”
“That’s what you say, but you have no one to prove it.”
Amy lost her temper. “I don’t have to answer to you. Go ahead, call the police. I’m out of here.”
She turned to storm away from me.
Uh-oh. I had lost my grip on this conversation. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the legal authority to keep her there. My only chance was to egg her on in hopes of stopping her.
“If you have nothing to hide, you have no reason to run,” I said.
Amy completely ignored me. Despite my best efforts, she got into her car and drove away as quickly as possible.
Chapter Eight
I returned to Jenna’s car, feeling completely deflated. That had blown up in my face in a hurry. As I reached the passenger-side door of the sedan, I got in and tried to piece together how things had turned sour so quickly.
Jenna only had to take one look at the frustration on my face to realize things hadn’t worked out in my favor.
“Let me guess. That didn’t go as well as you expected?” Jenna asked.
I shook my head. “Not even close.”
“Did you get any leads, at least?”
“Not really.”
“And Amy?”
“Just as crazy as ever.”
“Crazy enough to commit murder?” Jenna asked.
“I wish I had a definitive answer to that one,” I said.
“Is it safe to say you won’t be taking her off your list of suspects?”
“Oh yeah. She’s staying right at the top of my list.”
“What about the crime scene? Did you find anything useful in Trent’s house?”
I shook my head. “Unfortunately not.”
Suddenly, I wasn’t the only deflated one.
My series of uninspiring answers took the wind out of Jenna as well.
Jenna then asked the question that was on the tip of both of our tongues. “So, what now?”
I collected my thoughts and regained my resolve. “I’m going to pay a visit to the next suspect.”
“You? Does that mean you’re done with me?” Jenna asked.
“Actually, I would like to ask you for one more favor.”
She raised her eyebrows at me. “This is adding up to one big spa day you owe me.”
“Trust me, I’m good for it.”
“I know you are. So, what is this favor?” Jenna asked.
“Computer research.”
I saw her breathe a sigh of relief.
She’d probably expected something more harrowing than sitting at home on her laptop. As I explained what I was looking for, she became more relaxed.
“I want you to dig up anything and everything you can find on the suspects. Leave no social media account unchecked.”
“What am I looking for?”
“A lead, a clue—anything that I can use to solve this case,” I explained.
“Consider it done.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. Online research that I can do from the comfort and safety of my own home—that’s right up my alley,” Jenna replied.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t found anything.”
“Fingers crossed.”
From there, our paths diverged. Jenna dropped me off at home then headed off to do the computer research. I, meanwhile, got into my car and drove over to Trent’s girlfriend’s place to question her.
Chapter Nine
Lucy Richmond was only nineteen years old, but her prior success as a child actress had allowed her to purchase a sleek, modern six-bedroom mansion in the Hollywood Hills.
As I approached the chiseled glass front door of her mansion, I wondered if she would even be willing to talk to me. I gave the door a few knocks, and much to my surprise, Lucy came to the door half a minute later. As she swung the door open with a scowl on her face, I knew this was going to be a rough interview.
In the looks department, Lucy resembled the younger version of me. She had a trim body, long blond hair, and blue eyes. Are you noticing a trend here? Trent had a definite type when it came to women. At the same time, my similarities with Lucy were only skin deep.
While I had toiled in acting obscurity for nearly a decade before getting my first big break, success came to Lucy on her first audition. She landed the starring role on a hit children's show when she was just eleven. Now, she was already on her second TV show.
So far, she had avoided becoming a complete train wreck like so many former child stars had fallen victim to. That wasn’t to say that she was as well adjusted as she liked to pretend that she was. There was a sense of entitlement to her. She acted like she had never heard the word “no” in her entire life—probably because she hadn’t.
At that moment, I was less concerned with the fact that she was a spoiled brat and more concerned by the angry expression on her face. She immediately ripped into me.
“You have a lot of nerve showing up here,” Lucy said.
That wasn’t the way I wanted to start the interview off. I found her rancor towards me surprising, considering that I was the one who was dumped last night. Lucy was the one who ended up getting the guy, although you would never know it by her expression.
Firing back at her would only escalate things. My only hope was to try and calm her down.
“I didn’t come here to cause trouble,” I replied.
She folded her arms. “Really? You expect me to believe that?”
I would have to work harder to thaw that icy exterior of hers, or I wouldn’t get anywhere. “Yes. I just wanted to extend my sympathies. It’s horrible what happened to Trent.”
She nodded. “It’s the worst thing ever. Why do you think I’m so mad at you?”
“Me? What did I do?”
She glared at me. “Don’t be coy. He just broke up with you yesterday. If anyone had a reason to kill him, you did.”
I was losing my grip on this conversation. It had quickly gone off the rails. If I could just get her to stop leveling accusations at me, maybe I could get things back on track.
I remained calm. “There’s no reason for you to be so hostile to me.”
She continued to berate me. “There’s plenty of reason for you to be hostile. Your career is in the toilet, and your boyfriend just dumped you for me.”
I never thought I would do this, but I began to back away. I needed to get some answers from Lucy, but this seemed like neither the right time nor the place. “Clearly I came at a bad time. I’ll come back when you calm down a little.”
Instead of backing off, Lucy came after me even more intensely. “Don’t try to squirm away. I’m not going to rest until you pay for what you did.”
That was it. She had pushed me too far. I was prepared to take it easy on her at first, but all bets were off now. Thanks to Lucy’s belligerence, the floodgates were open. What she failed to realize was that she had started it, but I was going to end it.
My lie about having a verifiable alibi had worked well for me so far. I tried to get away with it again.
“I hate to break it to you, but I have an alibi for the time of the murder.” I put the ball back in her court. “Can you say the same?”
My statement put her so far back on her heels that she didn’t even question my statement about having an alibi.
Instead, she went on the defensive. “Are you trying to accuse me of murder?”
I put the heat on her. “If you have nothing to hide, then you have no reason not to answer me. Where were you last night between nine and ten o’clock?”
She deflected. “I had no motive to commit murder. Trent chose me over you. Why would I have wanted to kill him?”
“Not all motives are as easy to see as others. Now, do you have an alibi for the time of the murder or not?”
“Yes, I do,” she said.
I wasn’t convinced of her answer. “Let’s hear it.”
“I was at Club 920. Five of my friends can confirm it—not to mention the bartender and manager of the club.”
I couldn’t pretend that her answer didn’t take the wind out of my sails. At the same time, there was something highly curious about it.
“Really?” I asked.
Lucy fired back at me. “I don’t have to prove myself to you.”
“I meant, really, because I figured you would have been with Trent last night instead of at some club.”
Lucy had an excuse. “He was going to meet up with us, but at the last minute, his loser brother told him he wanted to talk to him about something. Then, after talking with his brother, Trent called me and told me he was in no mood to go out anymore. I asked him if he wanted me to cut my night short to be with him, but he said he wanted to be alone.”
If that was true, it was a very interesting story. The question became, was it true?
“What did Trent’s brother say that made him so upset?” I asked.
“That Trent had betrayed him by cutting him off financially. That it wasn’t right to treat family that way. But what does Scott Harper know? He did nothing but mooch off of his brother.”
Lucy wanted to turn all the attention to Trent’s younger brother, Scott, but I wasn’t done with her yet.
“What I don’t get is why Trent wouldn’t want his girlfriend by his side, especially after getting into a fight with his brother,” I said.
Lucy fired back at me. “For the last time, I had nothing to do with this.”
“You say that, but—”
She cut me off. “That’s it. We’re done here.”
“No. Wait a minute.”
My plea went unanswered. Lucy then put an abrupt end to the interview by slamming her front door in my face.
Chapter Ten
I had known questioning murder suspects wouldn’t be easy, but things had gone downhill in a hurry. It wasn’t just the way Lucy had ripped into me, either. It was the stress of it all. I took a few moments to calm myself down then paid Club 920 a visit.
Unfortunately, Lucy had been telling the truth. After talking to the manager, he confirmed that both Lucy and five of her friends were in the VIP area of the club all night. So, whether I wanted to admit it or not, Lucy had a rock-solid alibi for the time of the murder. Reluctantly, I scratched her off my list of suspects.
After leaving the club with that surprising news, I knew I had to regroup and move on. I couldn’t afford to get bogged down. The killer was still out there, and I had a number of other suspects to question.
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br /> At the same time, there was a cumulative effect to all the drama that had been thrown my way so far. Keeping upbeat was easier said than done. I just reminded myself that hope was all I had. No matter how hard this case got for me, I knew I had to find a way to power through. Otherwise, I could end up in jail.
After calming down, I looked at my suspect list again. Next up was Trent’s brother, Scott Harper. As I drove over to Scott’s West Hollywood apartment, I prayed for a more peaceful interview. I knew that was somewhat of an oxymoron, considering that I was talking about a potential murder suspect, but it was hard to get any useful information when things started on such a confrontational note.
I preferred the slow build, led off by some pleasantries, before finally hitting the harder questions.
Unfortunately, interviewing Trent’s brother had the potential to be more explosive than both of my previous confrontations. Scott was the resentful type. He had a big chip on his shoulder. Trent had been supporting Scott financially for years while Scott took acting classes and went to auditions, desperately trying to scare up his first big acting break.
After years of failed auditions, not only had that break not come, but it seemed like it never would. Finally, Trent had grown tired of letting his brother mooch off of him and cut him off. As expected, it had not gone well.
As I parked in front of Scott’s brown stucco apartment complex, I prepared for the worst but hoped for the best when it came to this interview.
When I knocked on the black wooden door to Scott’s apartment, it didn’t take long for him to snap at me from the other side of the door.
“I already answered your questions. I have nothing else to say to you,” I heard Scott say.
Even though he was on the other side of the closed door, I heard him slightly slurring his words. It was not a good sign that he was drinking so early in the afternoon. Clearly, Detective Noble had paid him a visit not too long ago. Scott had obviously mistaken me for him and believed that the detective had come back to ask some follow-up questions.
Fame Is A Killer Page 4
