“Renata singled you out, Sarah Booth. She made sure you were the prime suspect in her death. It’s like she’s reaching out from the grave—”
I leaned forward, suddenly clear on something that I had overlooked. “The person who went into Sheffield Feed Store asking for poison was Renata. She was pretending to be me. She could pull it off, too, with a young girl who was stocking shelves on a ladder.”
Tinkie nodded. “I see that. But why?”
That, indeed, was the sixty-four-million-dollar question.
Sweetie’s wet tongue licked me awake Wednesday morning, and I sat up and pulled the quilts around me. The temperature had dropped during the night. Dahlia House was cool in the summer, and it could be downright cold in the winter. I looked out the window to see frost glistening across the fields and icing the tree leaves. Sunlight glittered in blinding diamonds, and I jumped out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. In no time at all, I was showered, dressed, and ready for the day. Somewhere in the arms of Morpheus I’d found new hope. For proving my innocence, if not my future with Coleman. Emulating Jitty’s latest role model, I would worry about Coleman tomorrow.
While the coffee brewed, I phoned Millie, Cece, and Tinkie. I needed a meeting of the three smartest women I knew. Breakfast at Millie’s was just a bonus.
We gathered in the back of the café and waited until Millie had a break in the flow of customers so she could join us. When we were all seated with coffee and our various menu selections, I cleared my throat.
“I don’t know who killed Renata, but I do know that she—Renata—deliberately framed me for her death.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Cece drawled. “If she knew someone was going to kill her, wouldn’t she have called the police instead of building a frame?”
During the night my active subconscious had done its work. “In a normal person, yes. But Renata was far from normal. She hated me for reasons I’ll never understand. It is hard to swallow that she’d let herself be killed just to frame me, so there has to be more to this. This is where y’all come in.”
“What can we do?” Millie asked. She was always first on the line to help a friend.
“I think the question that must be answered is why Renata allowed herself to be poisoned. Was someone blackmailing her? There has to be more to this.”
“Right.” They all spoke in unison, and I saw from their expressions that they were actually buying into what I was saying.
“Tell us your plan,” Tinkie requested.
“Cece, can you pump Gabriel for any signs of fear or depression in Renata in the past few months?”
“You got it, dahling. But the order of pumping is somewhat reversed, don’t you think?”
I rolled my eyes. “Millie, if you have all those back tabloids, can you go through them to see any gossip that might hint at trouble somewhere in her life?”
“Absolutely. And you’re in luck. I have issues that go back two years, at least.”
“Tinkie, we need the toxicology report from the sheriff’s department, and see if you can weasel any useful information out of Gordon.”
“I’m on it.” She studied me carefully. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to talk to Bobbe Renshaw and Kristine Rolofson. They were both at the theatre the night Renata died. They’ve been with Renata, in a manner of speaking, for the past year or so. Maybe they saw something.”
“And Graf?” Tinkie asked the question that everyone else was thinking. Aside from me, Graf was the most obvious suspect.
“Can you poke around in Graf’s financial business? We might find something useful there, and you’re the woman for figures.”
“Good.” We stood up all together, like the four musketeers.
“Let’s meet this afternoon at Dahlia House,” I suggested. “Millie, can you get off?”
She untied her apron and put it on the table. “Even better. I’m going home right now to start looking through those tabloids. I’ll call Annie to come in and take over. I haven’t had a day off since last summer, and I’m due one.”
My friends were giving up their time to help me. Whatever I might find in Hollywood, it would be no substitute for this.
“Thank you.”
Kristine had taken a room at a local motel that allowed pets. Gertrude Strom at The Gardens had a no-pet policy, and the old bat wouldn’t make any exceptions, so it was the Crossroads Motel where I found Kristine, ready to take Giblet for a walk.
The little reddish gold pooch was glad to see me and gave me a warm welcome when Kristine opened the door to my knock. “I’m surprised you’re still in town,” I said.
“I’m surprised you’re not in jail.” She opened the door wide. “But any person who might have killed Renata is a friend of mine. Come in.”
The room was neat and her clothes were packed, as if she did plan on leaving. “The sheriff asked me to stay in town,” she said. “I’m hoping as soon as the show closes he gives us the okay to leave. Now that Renata is dead, I have to get on with my new mission in life. I’ve spent the last year trying to make her accountable for the hit-and-run.” She sighed. “I’m going after the New York state legislature next. Try to get some laws enacted to protect animals.”
It was a noble chore she’d assumed. Her attitude told me one thing—she wasn’t anticipating that she’d be held here in Zinnia for murder.
“Kristine, I know the sheriff has questioned you, but would you mind talking with me?”
“Not at all. Could we walk while we talk?”
“Sure.” My paddock boots were comfortable for walking, and the day, though cold, was sunny and dry. She put Giblet on a lead and we headed out the door at a brisk pace.
“You’ve followed Renata for the past year,” I said. “In the last few months, have you noticed anything different in her conduct?”
Kristine didn’t answer immediately. “You know, she did seem to change a little.”
“How so?”
“When I threw water on her to see if she’d melt, she did something very strange.”
My heart rate increased, and not from the pace Kristine set. “What?”
“She turned to me, and her face was almost expressionless. Normally she had the visage of a Harpy, but she just looked cold. And she said, ‘When I’m gone, your life won’t have any meaning.’ And then she drove away.”
I pondered those words, reminiscent of the Richard M. Nixon speech to the press before he resigned as president. So was Renata thinking of retiring, or was it something more sinister?
“What did you make of it?”
“To be honest, I was so delighted at the thought that I’d helped to drive her out of work that I didn’t really think about what she said. But now, with her death and all . . .” She turned to me. “Do you think someone had threatened her even then?”
I could only hope that was the case, and that I could prove it. “When was this?”
“In Atlantic City. That’s why I’ve had time to come up with my new plan of action to help protect innocent animals from reckless drivers. Once Renata hinted she was leaving, I set about finding another venue.”
“That was smart.” I wasn’t really thinking about Kristine’s venues. I was wondering what might have prompted Renata to say such a revealing thing to a woman she no doubt hated. “Tell me more about your relationship with Renata,” I requested.
“After Giblet was released to travel, we loaded up and drove to Atlantic City where the show was being staged. My husband left me very well off financially, so I didn’t have to work, and I certainly could afford to pay the $5,000 in veterinarian bills for Giblet. It wasn’t the money, it was the principle.”
I knew about principles. They made life difficult but also put the spine in people.
“The first night I slipped Giblet backstage, and at the most inopportune time, I let her free on the stage. She went right to Renata and peed on her leg. It brought the house down.”
I couldn’t help b
ut laugh out loud, though I barely had wind to do it. The pace Kristine and Giblet set was working my butt off.
“I had a stuffed dog made to look just like Giblet, and I recorded Giblet growling and barking. On another night, as the first act closed, I slipped the stuffed dog and the tape recorder into her dressing room. She was terrified to go inside. It delayed the opening of the second act.”
I admired Kristine. She was an animal activist of the number one order.
“Did you ever actually talk to Renata about what happened?”
“I did. I asked for an apology. That’s all I really wanted. I wanted her to admit that what she did was wrong.”
“And she wouldn’t?”
She slowed to allow Giblet to water a clump of weeds. “She laughed in my face and told me if my ‘ugly mop of fur’ got in front of her car again, she’d finish the job.”
Typical Renata conduct.
“That’s when I vowed to make her life a living hell as long as I could. So I devised guerrilla tactics to thwart her. Giblet and I have picketed every performance of her show since I got to Atlantic City. We give interviews, and whenever possible we get other animal lovers to join us. It’s been highly successful.”
“And all because she wouldn’t say she was sorry for hitting your dog.”
Kristine stopped completely. “She wasn’t sorry, Sarah Booth. Not a bit. That’s what made me so furious. She truly didn’t care what she’d done.”
I couldn’t defend Renata. I was saddened by her complete lack of compassion for a living creature and the human who suffered, too.
“I didn’t poison her,” I said. “Do you know anyone who might have done it?”
We turned to head back to the motel. “So many people hated her. One night when I was picketing, I heard her get into it with Graf Milieu. Boy, she didn’t hold any punches.”
“What did she say?”
“She had something on Graf. Something big. And she was holding it over his head, forcing him to do something for her that he didn’t want to do.”
“Do you remember what?”
“It wasn’t clear. It had to do with money and Mexico, but that’s all I really heard. I felt sorry for Mr. Milieu. He was always so nice to me and Giblet. He brought treats for my baby.”
“Money and Mexico?” I spoke the words aloud, but my thoughts were too rapid to catch hold of for speech. Graf had once talked about a hacienda in Mexico. Perhaps he and Renata had purchased one. It was something to check into. As well as the rest of Renata’s will. Who had she left her considerable fortune to? Those who inherit are always up for suspicion. The logical heir would be Gabriel, but he hadn’t been in town until after Renata was dead—at least as far as I knew.
“That’s all I know,” Kristine said. “I hope some of it was helpful.”
“Possibly more than you think.” I stopped in the parking lot. “Thanks, Kristine. For the information and the walk.”
On the way to my car, I slipped out my cell phone and called Cece.
“Can you find out where Gabriel was the entire week before Renata died?” We’d assumed he was a new arrival in town, but assumptions could be deadly in a murder case.
“You bet.” She hung up, and I headed back to town.
Chapter 12
Bobbe Renshaw was packing her makeup kits when I walked into the backstage area at The Club. A trash can beside her was full of cosmetics she’d tossed, and I noticed they were all Renata’s. “I guess the sheriff’s office has been through all of that.” I pointed to the trash can.
“They’ve taken samples of everything, tested everything.” She picked up the can. “Here, keep it if you want to be certain. I want every last reminder of that woman gone from my life.”
“What are you going to do now?” I asked. Bobbe kept her attention on her work and didn’t answer. “Go home to your family?”
“For a little while. Danny will go on the road again in the spring, and I might go, take the kid.” She shrugged. “It’s not as much fun as it was when we didn’t have Little A.” She saw my puzzled look. “Adam.”
“I can imagine.” But I really couldn’t. Touring in a bus with a bunch of sometimes drunk, sometimes stoned rocksters was a tough life even for a young, single person. For a mom and a toddler, it would be sheer hell.
“No chance at ABC?”
She looked me in the eye. “That’s doubtful. Why? You volunteering to write me a letter of recommendation?”
I laughed, and finally, she joined me. “I doubt a letter from a suspected murderer would do you a lot of good, but I’ll write one. You’ve done a great job on my makeup.”
She perched a hip on the vanity counter and began to swing a long, shapely leg back and forth. “You know, I got a bum rap hanging out with Danny and the band. Everyone thought I was a drug addict, that I serviced all the guys. It was never like that. Maybe I did too good a job on the makeup, because none of the guys do heavy drugs. None. They drank some, smoked a J now and then. At least that’s all I ever saw. Danny grew up with his dad screwed up all the time, and his mom an alcoholic. When I got pregnant with Little A, he stopped drinking completely. Not even a beer, until I got stuck on the road like this.” A heavy mark drew her brows together. “That bitch Renata.”
This was the most I’d ever heard Bobbe talk. Since she was in the mood to reveal, I asked a leading question.
“How’d you hook up with Renata?”
Her laugh was bitter. “I went to see a play with a girlfriend of mine. We went backstage to congratulate the cast, and I ended up in front of her. Her makeup shade was all wrong, and I just blurted it out.”
I could imagine Renata’s reaction. She probably belted Bobbe. “And?”
“She was furious. She called security and had me thrown out the stage door. It was all pretty humiliating, but then, I figured I’d opened my mouth and inserted my foot, so I got what was coming to me.”
“Until ...”
“Two days later I got a phone call. She figured out who I was, traced the band, got me that way. She asked me to come and redo her makeup for the show.”
“And history was made.” I twirled a sable brush that Bobbe used with such artistry. “She looked great in the show.”
“She looked great every night. I made sure of that. At first it was a trip, traveling with the show. And my job was so much easier than with the band. I mean, this was regular stage makeup. No special effects, no limb regeneration. It was a piece of cake.”
“Until you wanted to leave, right?”
She got up and paced the room. “I got pregnant, and I had terrible morning sickness. I kept working until time to deliver, and that’s when I applied at ABC. I was set to take the job when Little A was four months old.”
“Renata lied about you.”
“In a big, big way. I never so much as stole a salt shaker or a candy bar. It was the meanest thing she could think of to do to ruin it for me. Now, I’m branded a thief.”
It was tough to be falsely accused. I was walking a mile in those shoes.
“ABC withdrew the job?”
“With cause. They told me because they’re so sensitive about lawsuits. Renata didn’t expect that. She thought she’d malign me, and I’d never know.”
“How could you work for her all these months?” I was amazed.
“Danny was nearly electrocuted during a show. His guitar was hot, and the nerves in his right hand were damaged.”
She didn’t have to draw a picture. He couldn’t play the guitar if his hand was injured.
“He’s been in rehab all this time, trying to keep it secret from the press. I mean, he’s like thirty-two. Virtually over the hill for a rocker. It can’t get out that he’s injured, even if it’s only temporary.”
“My lips are sealed.” Thirty-two! Over the hill! Yikes. I was practically sitting with my legs dangling in a grave.
“I had to hang onto the job, because I couldn’t get another with a thievery charge hanging over me. Thi
s was the only income we had, and I didn’t know where Renata would smear me next.”
Renata had held Bobbe by the short hairs and hadn’t batted an eye at such unethical behavior. The prima donna got what she wanted, and that was all that mattered.
“The thing that kept me going was knowing the show would close this week. I marked the days off a calendar, like a person in prison. I tried to focus on one day at a time. And then Renata died, and you took the role. It’s been a pleasure, Sarah Booth.”
“Well, thanks.” How hard was it to be nice to someone who was a major talent and made me look good? “Did you notice anything unusual about Renata the last few months?”
“Big time. She would never admit it, but she went somewhere for Botox injections. The last few weeks, she could barely change expressions.”
“Did she see a doctor?” I couldn’t imagine Renata, with all her bucks, going for black market treatment. I would’ve figured her for a strictly 90210 doctor.
“I have no idea. I never heard her say, but I didn’t keep up with her. All I know is that she couldn’t move her eyebrows and the corners of her mouth were sort of ... frozen in place.”
“That’s a high price to pay for vanity.”
“She was aging. She used to sit and stare at herself in the mirror, pulling at her skin, examining the color of her hair for gray. She was obsessed with it.”
I’d spent a few hours searching for gray and lifting my skin up. The first-blush peachiness of youth had slipped from my features, but I was a long, long way from Botox. “Did she have a treatment here, in Zinnia?”
“She must have.”
“She never mentioned a doctor?”
“Not to me. I wasn’t a confidante. I was the paid help.”
Right. I’d forgotten that Renata lived in a class-conscious world that was as bad as anything the Delta had ever concocted. “I’ll check around.”
There were plenty of plastic surgeons in Jackson and Memphis, and a few scattered in the Delta. My bets were on Memphis, though. That’s where the makeup came from, and that’s where Renata probably had contacts.
Ham Bones Page 11
