by anna snow
That explained why he was strapped for cash and why he was so paranoid.
"Thanks for your help," I said.
"Don't mention it…really, don't mention it." He ended the call, and I put my phone back into my purse.
"So?" Silas looked at me expectantly.
"Two-Toes is out," I said to Silas and relayed the information Gerald had given me.
"That explains why Mark was acting so paranoid. That, combined with the drug use—he was wigging out," Silas said.
"Not only that, but Two-Toes was at the Double Trouble Gentlemen's Club getting lap dances and tossing money around until after two in the morning the night Mark was killed. Gerald said Two-Toes had most of his guys with him too. Gerald assured me Toes had nothing to do with Mark's death. So that pretty much rules him out as our killer."
"That leaves Melody and the band members."
"Yeah." I nodded and ran my fingers through my hair. "Let's get this over with and get back to Melody's place. I'll sit on her house all night if I have to."
We pushed our way into the crowded room. The stench of Axe body spray, hair gel, and another smell I couldn't identify permeated the air around us.
"This place reeks," Silas said by my ear then straightened and wrinkled his nose. I nodded my agreement.
"Let's find this Paulson chick, ask her what we need to know, and get the heck out of here. Not only does it stink to high heaven, but that music is awful."
I still to this day had no idea how The Rebels had made it big. I wasn't a musical savant, but to my ears the guys couldn't carry a tune in a bucket with a lid on it.
"I couldn't agree with you more," Silas said.
"Quiet, everyone." A woman's voice came over the surround-sound speakers dispersed around the room, and the music died down.
"We're here to celebrate the life of The Rebels front man, Mark Reynolds."
The crowd cheered.
"He was the epitome of a rock star, and true to his fashion, this is a party. This event is a celebration of his life and the music he loved so much. The only thing he loved more than his music was you, the fans who helped make his dream come true. So, this is not an event of mourning. I was honored to be his manager for the last three years. He's going to be greatly missed. Now." She held up her hands. "Party on!"
The crowd cheered, and the music began playing again.
"Did she even know Mark?" Silas asked in a sarcastic tone. "The only things that guy loved were himself and apparently drugs."
"She did lay it on kind of thick, didn't she?"
He nodded.
I saw Loretta Paulson leave the stage, and then she disappeared from my sight.
"Let's move," I said and grabbed Silas by the hand. We bumped into several people dancing, talking, and laughing. Beer was flowing like wine, hors d'oeuvres were being devoured by the dozens, and everyone was having a good time sporting their Rebels T-shirts and hats.
"Can you see her?" I said. "I can't see over everyone." It was times like these that I'd sell one of my organs for a few extra inches of height.
Silas tiptoed up and nodded his head. "Yeah, she's right over there talking to the band member we talked to the other day."
"Jamie?"
"No, the redheaded slimy one."
"Henry," I said and wrinkled my nose. I definitely didn't want to talk to that guy again. The way he had leered at me made my skin crawl just thinking about it.
Silas, still clutching my hand, made a path for us through the crowd. Once we broke free of the party people, I took a deep breath, thankful to be out in the open instead of being suffocated by the rowdy fans.
"There she is," Silas leaned down and said next to my ear.
The woman he pointed out was tall, thin, and had the blackest hair I'd ever seen. It shimmered almost dark blue in the overhead light. She wore a smart black pantsuit and sky-high matching black heels with red soles. She looked amazing, and I was a little shocked by the fact that she was a manager and not a model.
We made our way over to the woman just as Henry took his leave and began signing autographs and taking pictures with his adoring fans.
"Loretta Paulson?"
She turned to face me and smiled. "Yes. Can I help you?"
"I'm Barb Jackson, and this is my partner, Silas Thorne."
She gave Silas a once over then looked back to me.
"I'm a private investigator looking into the death of Mark Reynolds."
She frowned. "The police are looking into that," she said.
"True. They are, but I am too. For personal reasons." I didn't want to tell her I was Kelly's best friend and chance her zipping her lips because she might think Kelly killed her cash cow.
"Were you a friend of Mark's?
"Of course," I lied. I also wasn't about to tell her I despised the guy for the aforementioned reasons.
"Well, I already talked to a handsome-sounding detective on the phone just a bit ago, but if you're a friend of Mark's and think you can put away his murderer, then I'll be happy to help you any way that I can."
"Thanks," I said. "I just have a few questions."
"Starting with where was I the night he was killed?" she guessed with a smile.
I returned her smile. "Yes."
"I was at a business dinner with someone from the record label, going over the band's contracts and whatnot…in Europe. I just arrived back in the States this morning. I heard about his death the following day when the news broke, just like everyone else."
"Do you know of anyone who would've wanted to hurt him?"
She shook her head. "It was no secret Mark wasn't the friendliest guy in the universe, but he was great with his fans. Always stopping to sign autographs, take pictures, and so on. He ate up the attention, and the fans were more than willing to dole it out. I don't know of anyone who would actually hurt him. Whack him upside the head once in a while for being selfish, yes. Kill him, no."
I nodded. "Do you happen to know if Mark was having any financial trouble?"
"He made plenty of money." She shook her head. "I don't see why he would be strapped for cash."
"One last thing," I said as a man walked up and whispered in her ear. "Now that Mark has passed, what's going to happen to the band?"
"Well," she reached up and rubbed her earlobe. "Originally, the idea was that if anything ever happened to Mark, Jamie would fill the position as lead singer. He's filled in for Mark a few times over the years when Mark was down with the flu and after dental surgery. The crowd loved him."
"Was the plan?" I asked.
"Was," she confirmed. "That is until about a month ago when Mark introduced me to a woman who he wanted to join the band. First as a backup singer then as his replacement if anything ever happened to him in the future. He wanted his replacement lined up to secure the future of the band. He wanted to ensure his music and memory lived on. I know it sounds strange, but I've worked with a lot of bands over the years who have felt the same way and lined up their next front man."
"Who was the woman Mark was pushing?"
"Melody Thompson."
I felt my jaw drop and my eyes widen. What in the actual hell?
"Melody Thompson?" I cleared my throat and asked.
Loretta looked at me as though I'd lost my mind then nodded. "She definitely has the look of a star, and her voice is great. The record label signed her about a week ago, but we kept it under wraps that she would be Mark's replacement. We've had a hectic week with Mark's passing, and I didn't want to stress the band any more than necessary until after the funeral. We had originally planned a meeting to break the news, but with everything that has happened, it was put off."
"You said you kept it under wraps for a little while. When did you tell the band that she would be replacing Mark?" Silas asked.
Her black wavy hair bounced around her shoulders when she shook her head. "This afternoon. Henry, Jamie, Dale, Toby, and I met at the office, and we went over everything. As of right now, Melody is to be th
e next lead singer of The Rebels."
"How did everyone take the news that Melody would be replacing Mark?" I asked. My spidey-senses were tingling.
"Everyone was on board except for Jamie. He used the excuse that he just didn't like her attitude. But in all honesty, I think he didn't like the idea of her taking any of his spotlight. Her attitude was nothing compared to Mark's, so I knew he was feeding me a line with that excuse."
"I see," Silas said.
"With Melody in the band, she would be the face of the band, which would leave Jamie right where he was on lead guitar."
It was starting to look like Jamie had more of a motive to kill Mark than I'd originally thought. But he couldn't have killed Mark. He was at the club with the rest of the band the night of the murder. Still, the more Loretta filled us in on the upcoming and recent changes with the band, the more my instinct was directing me to Jamie as the killer.
I glanced over at Silas then back to Loretta. "Is Jamie here? I'd like to speak with him."
She shook her head, and an irritated expression crossed her face. "No, he isn't, and I'm a little perturbed at him because of it." She frowned and regarded me seriously. "You must think I'm a terrible person for talking so candidly about my clients. Rest assured I don't make a habit of speaking negatively about them often, but…" She shook her head and blew out a disgusted breath. "There's been a murder. The least Jamie could do is be here assuring fans that the band will continue making music and touring, but he's nowhere to be found, and I can't get him on the phone."
Her irritation was apparent. "Toby's at a back table signing autographs and taking pictures. Henry is over there charming the ladies. Even Dale is over there shaking his ass with some fans, and where's Jamie? He's probably on a bender with that girlfriend of his," she said heatedly. "And Melody is a no-show as well." She pressed her fingers to her forehead. "With Mark gone and Jamie and Melody nowhere to be found, these three are all that's keeping these fans from freaking out and thinking that The Rebels are over." She ran her fingers through the ends of her hair and blew out a breath.
The stress of the situation was evident in her body language.
"Melody's supposed to be here? I thought she was still working at the nail salon?" I asked.
"She gave her notice but has to finish her two weeks or forfeit her vacation pay. She likes money." Loretta shrugged. "Apparently she's worked there for years and has some paid time built up. She doesn't want to lose it. I can't say that I blame her."
"Do you think Melody would ever have hurt Mark?"
"No way." She shook her head. "She was in love with Mark even though I don't think he had a loving bone in his body. She would've followed him to the end of the earth. It was Mark who pushed for her to be signed as his future replacement. He was adamant."
I was following all the information she was doling out, but I kept going back to one thing she said.
"You said that Jamie is probably on a bender somewhere? I'm not sure we're talking about the same person," I said and shook my head. "The Jamie and Silvia that I talked to a couple of days ago were married. They were at home with a house full of kids."
She harrumphed. "Those are her nieces and nephews. Jamie and Silvia aren't even married. They live in that house with Silvia's sister and brother-in-law. Jamie is the one you should be asking about being financially strapped. He runs through his money like water through a sieve. Which is why he lives with Silvia's sister. Why in the world would he tell you that those kids were his? He doesn't mistreat them, but he's made it evident to everyone that he definitely doesn't want kids. He's interested in being a rock star and only a rock star."
That was a good question and one I feared I already knew the answer to.
"I'm afraid to ask," I admitted, but my gut told me that I already knew. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I'd been looking in the wrong direction all along.
Holy macaroni. If my spidey-senses were correct, I'd been wasting my time checking out Melody.
"Thank you for your help." I shook the woman's hand quickly, grabbed Silas's hand so we wouldn't become separated in the crowd, and hauled tail toward the door. We burst through the doors out to the sidewalk. I ran up to the valet and handed him the ticket. "Please hurry," I said breathlessly.
"What are you thinking?" Silas asked in a tone that suggested he already knew my mind was on the trail of Mark's real killer.
"We need to take another look at those Instagram pictures."
Silas pulled a face. "Why? We saw all four of the band members at that club."
"I know, but there's something we missed."
The valet rolled up in my car. I tossed him a tip and a quick thank you, hopped into the car, and sped away from the curb. I narrowly avoided running down some guy wearing headphones and looking at his cell phone instead of paying attention to where he was walking when he stepped out into the road.
"Okay now, Barb. You need to tell me what's going on? Why are you driving like a maniac, and where are we going?" Silas asked calmly but grasped the console and door handle in a white-knuckled grip.
I whipped into the Arby's parking lot, grabbed my computer, fired up their free Wi-Fi, and pulled up the pictures we had looked at earlier in the day.
"What are we looking for?"
"Time."
"I'm sorry?"
I scrolled down to the first picture with Jamie in the background. He was talking to Silvia.
"The time stamp on the post," I explained. "Mark was killed between midnight and two a.m.," I said. "This first picture shows Jamie and Silvia talking to each other in the background. It's marked at eleven o'clock."
Silas leaned over and looked at the screen. "So?"
I scrolled to the next picture. "And here's Jamie alone at the bar with Henry at eleven forty-five. No Silvia in sight," I said. "Then here's Silvia at a table with Toby and Dale, no Jamie, at twelve fifteen." I scrolled to the final picture. "And here's Jamie and Silvia at the bar together at one a.m."
"I'm sorry, Barb, but I'm just not following." He shook his head.
"Don't you see?" I asked with excitement. "You were right all along."
"About what?"
"If we go by the time stamps, either Jamie or Silvia was sure to be seen with members of the band around the time of Mark's murder. First we see them talking to each other, then only Jamie, then only Silvia, then the two together again in the final photo."
I saw the moment my hunch took root in Silas's mind. "You think they snuck out of the club, killed Mark, and then snuck back in when the deed was done. They were using the band and club as an alibi without the other members of the band knowing what they were up to."
"Exactly," I said triumphantly then closed the computer and tossed it into the back. "I can't believe we didn't see this before now. How could I have been so blind?"
I peeled out onto the highway and sped back in the direction of Melody's house.
"I've been so focused on Melody and the scorned lover angle."
I slid across two lanes to make my exit.
"But the Jamie that Loretta described and the Jamie that we met were polar opposites. He's good. I fell for his lies hook, line, and sinker." I swerved to move around a slow-moving truck and made a quick exit, cutting off the car in the right lane. The driver laid on the horn, but I ignored him.
"Okay, I understand, but why are we flying toward Melody's house instead of Jamie's?"
"Because—" I made a sharp left turn. "—it's like you said. 'Who had the most to gain by Mark's death?' Jamie. So he killed Mark with full confidence that he would then be the band's new front man and start raking in more cash. But this morning Loretta burst his bubble when she announced that Melody would be the one taking Mark's place, not him."
Silas's eyes widened. "Now, the only thing standing in his way from getting what he wants is Melody."
I nodded. "When we went by Melody's earlier, there were two cars in the driveway. A blue Honda and—
"A b
lack Jeep," Silas finished my sentence. "One exactly like the black Jeep that was in Jamie and Silvia's driveway when we talked to them."
He met my gaze briefly. "We'd better hurry."
I floored it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I skidded to a stop one block away from Melody's house.
"The cars are still there. Should we call Tyler and tell him what we've found out?"
I shook my head and got out of the car. "Not yet," I said and hurried down the sidewalk. "I could be completely wrong about Jamie. I'll get a look inside, and if we see anything out of sorts, then we'll call Tyler."
All the blinds at the front of the house were drawn, so we jogged around to the back and crouched down beneath the farthest window.
"How are we supposed to see inside?" Silas whispered. "All of the blinds are closed."
I reached down, pulled my credit card out of my front pocket, and held it up for him to see.
"We can't just break in to her house," he hissed. "Are you crazy? She's in there, and more than likely accompanied by a couple of murderers. What if they catch us?" He jabbed his finger toward the house.
I reached down, pulled my gun from the ankle holster, and held it up in my other hand.
"I have a gun too," I whispered.
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, that makes me feel so much better," he hissed sarcastically. "You have a maxed-out credit card and a little pink gun. We're saved."
"Stop being a baby, and come on. We don't have time for this. You need to dig deep and find your marbles." I crawled past the window to the privacy fence gate, reached up, and wiggled the latch—but the gate was locked from the inside.
"Give me a boost," I whispered.
"Seriously?" He tilted his head to the side. "Have you lost your mind?"
"Come on, you big goober. Help me over."
Silas groaned his irritation but laced his fingers together and squatted down.
"You're such a baby," I hissed then stepped into his hand and grasped the top of the fence. Silas stood up and heaved me over the top and into the backyard. Unfortunately, he hefted me up with a little more force than was necessary, and I wasn't able to land on my feet. Instead, I hit the ground flat on my back with a thud that jarred my insides so hard I felt like my body was vibrating. I lay there for a minute like a turtle stuck on its back, tried to catch my breath, and made a quick mental list of all the ways I was going to get back at Silas.
