by D E Dennis
Claudia gasped, clapping her hand over her mouth. “Why would someone do that?”
“We don’t know,” Monica admitted. “But we have a theory, a thin one, that it may be the reason why her phone was taken. We think Spindle was at the party, and he asked Beauty to step out to meet him. He then took the phone, so the cops wouldn’t see the message and realize it wasn’t an accident. He wasn’t expecting you to raise the alarm so soon.”
“At the party?” Charles repeated. “But that is not possible. It would mean this Spindle is one of our friends or family.”
“Maybe not,” Monica said. “Is it possible he came from the outside? Snuck in among all the people going in and out during the set up?”
Claudia shook her head firmly. “No, it’s not possible. The police asked us the same thing this morning when they searched the manor, and this is what we told them. We have concrete walls around the property. We employ a guard who checks everyone in and out. We also have security cameras throughout and over every door. Everything those cameras recorded on that day we handed over to the CRPD detectives this morning. There is no way an intruder got into the manor. This is Fairy Tails for heaven’s sake.”
Not surprising, but we do need to be sure.
“If you say there was no way someone could have gotten in, then this confirms it. If Spindle was there, he had to be one of the guests. Can you think of anyone it could be?”
“We told you no!” Claudia cried, stress making her voice rise. “If we knew who did this, I would have pushed them down the stairs!”
Her snarl made Michael blink and he quickly amended his view of her.
Claudia Cadal.
Quiet. Unassuming. Rage hiding beneath the depths.
“I meant more along the lines of, did you have a feeling about anyone? Anyone in your daughter’s life that you weren’t sure of? Like her boyfriend, for example.” Monica zeroed in on Charles. “We heard the two of you got into an argument, Mr. Cadal. What about?”
Furrowing his brow, Charles scanned her face before answering. “That was ages ago. It was nothing. A misunderstanding.”
“Tell us about it.”
Charles’s eyes widened. “Do you think he did it? That slimy piece of—”
“We don’t know anything yet,” Monica interrupted. “We’re still trying to figure Gabriel Silva out, so anything you can tell us about him would be helpful.”
Charles had risen halfway out of his chair in righteous anger, but now he settled back. “It was nothing, as I said. We were all on edge after Beauty was run off the road, so when she was almost hit by the studio light, I had a bad feeling. I checked the cameras. They are trained down, not up, so I couldn’t see the light itself, but I did see a strange face loitering around set that day. Imagine my surprise when that face appears outside my daughter’s apartment claiming to be her boyfriend. I overreacted, but it was to protect her. Beauty set me straight and everything was fine afterward.”
“So what was the truth?”
“Gabriel had snuck on set hunting for autographs. He’s not the first and he certainly won’t be the last.”
She inclined her head. “Is there anything else you can think of? No matter how small it may have seemed at the time.”
“No,” Claudia replied softly. “There really is nothing. Beauty was doing well in school. She had a nice boyfriend and great friends, and she never said the name James Spindle to us. We truly want to help you, but we don’t understand how this could have happened. We don’t know why.”
Monica tapped Michael’s elbow and stood. “You have been helpful, both of you. We wouldn’t have gotten this far without your help. When is Beauty’s funeral?”
“It’s... in three days,” Claudia replied. “Why?”
“Because we will have the killer unmasked and in handcuffs by then. Invite your friends and family without worry.”
They thanked them profusely as the siblings backed out toward the door and into the hallway.
Michael hissed at Monica the moment they were far enough away. “Why did you do that? What if we can’t solve this in three days?”
“We will,” she said firmly. “We have to, so get that brain of yours working and tell that flash of insight it’s on notice. The very idea of them standing over a casket alone breaks my heart. There is a strong possibility that a familiar face is their daughter’s killer. They deserve to know who that face belongs to.” Monica picked up the pace and Michael hurried to catch up. “You know, this phantom is really starting to piss me off.”
MONICA’S WORDS WERE ringing in Michael’s ears that night as he set up his tiny dining room table.
This phantom is pissing me off too.
A knock on the door made Michael drop the forks to go answer it. Samira stood on his welcome mat with a grin and a bag of something that smelled delicious.
“Hey, Mikey.” She handed him the bag. “I brought Thai food.”
“Bless you.”
She came in and immediately made herself at home. Kicking off her shoes, throwing her purse on the couch, and heading straight into the kitchen for the—
“Got it,” she said happily. “Michael, where is the corkscrew?”
Wine.
Michael laughed, joining her in the kitchen. “Same place it’s always been.”
“Naturally,” she replied with a fond smile. “You’ve always been stuck in your ways. You were an old man before you turned twenty.”
“Hey!” he cried but was laughing along with her. “You know you tell me I’m an old grump at heart, but Monica is always saying I’m immature. Which is it?”
“A little bit of both I expect.” She handed him a glass. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
Michael took a sip before gesturing at the table. “Ready for dinner?”
“More than ready. Today was a long day.”
“Tell me about it.” Michael pulled out her chair before taking his own seat. “Mine did not go any better.”
“You first.”
Michael filled her in as they scooped green chicken curry on to their plates and spicy shrimp soup into their bowls.
“... so now we have three days to find the killer, and we are still no closer to knowing the identity of James Spindle or even if he’s connected to her death.”
Samira swirled her soup with her spoon. “You are looking for a phantom. This Spindle guy sounds like one to me.”
“No arguments there.”
She hummed. “It must have come as a surprise to hear Malia Diragoni was Charles Cadal’s ex-wife. I knew of course, but the look on your face when you were blindsided by the gossipy driver must have been priceless.”
“You knew? How?”
“I’m a detective with the CRPD, Mikey. We have access to all sorts of records you private eyes can only dream about. I know that Charles Cadal has been busted for a D.U.I. And, I know Dora French, Donna Woods, and Mary Woods opened a bed-and-breakfast a few years ago that quickly went under.”
She laughed at his sour expression.
“It’s still hard to believe,” he insisted. “This whole Malia and Charles thing.”
“What? That exes can be friends?”
She gave him a small smile which he returned.
“No, not that. I believe Malia could have returned to Castle Rock with a new outlook, but I can’t believe that’s the whole story. I had a feeling Dora was holding something back.” He sighed, dropping his spoon in the bowl. “I have a feeling everyone is holding something back. Emma, Gabriel, Dora, Marcus, Malia, and Charles. This is a murder investigation, but despite how much everyone claims they want the killer found, no one will be upfront with us. The only one I’m not looking at suspiciously is Claudia.”
Samira bit her lip. “About that...”
He cursed. “Oh no. What is it now?”
“I guess it’s time I tell you about my hard day.”
THE NEXT MORNING, MICHAEL dragged his grumpy sister to his car and shoved a cup of cof
fee and a croissant at her.
“I know it’s early,” he said as he started the car. “But Samira’s chief doesn’t like them working with us. We have to go in before she comes to work, so Mira can show us what she found.”
“Why can’t you just tell me what it is?” she griped as she tore into the flaky goodness.
“Because I don’t know. She said we have to see it for ourselves.”
“Ugh, fine. Let’s go.”
Monica spent the ride finishing off her breakfast and sighing dramatically, making sure Michael knew she wasn’t pleased.
He almost sighed himself when he turned the corner and saw the police station, but his would have been one of relief.
The Castle Rock Police Station wasn’t a big operation. They were a large community, but there wasn’t enough crime to justify more than a handful of uniformed cops and two detectives, Samira and Spencer.
The station was a simple two-story brick building. They walked inside to find Samira ready and waiting in reception. “Come on.”
They followed her through the door and into where the action happens.
Okay, maybe not action.
The room wasn’t empty. There were loads of desks scattered about the place. The issue was only two of them were occupied. Spencer leaned all the way back in his chair, head tilted to the ceiling as he swiveled around and around.
But at least he was conscious, the officer at the desk across from him was slumped over, snoring ferociously.
“I feel safer already,” Monica mumbled.
Samira chuckled. “Over here. I’ve got it queued up to the part you need to see.” She led them over to her desk—a neatly arranged, pristine paradise—and woke her laptop.
“What is it?”
Spencer suddenly came to life, the siren call of Monica’s voice had him springing out of his seat and racing to her side.
“Monica,” he said, breathing harder. “How are you?”
“Tired,” she replied, “but curious. So tell us, Mira, what are we looking at?”
“The Cadals handed over their security tapes from the night of the party,” she began. “It was only one day’s worth, so it didn’t take us long to find this.” She turned the screen around so they could see and hit play.
The siblings leaned in for a closer look. Claudia Cadal was standing outside on what must have been her porch. Dressed in her costume for the festivities, she relaxed against a post, looking out at something the camera couldn’t see.
Michael watched as she straightened, then turned to face someone. Beauty appeared on the scene, dressed in full attire, mask in place.
Obviously, Michael could not tell what they were saying, but he could read their body language loud and clear. Beauty was upset. Arms waving, feet stamping, and she most likely had a raised voice to match.
Claudia in comparison seemed calm, supplicating. But, whatever she was saying wasn’t working on her daughter, because three minutes in, Beauty rips the mask off her face and flings it at her mother.
Claudia staggers back when it hits her in the face but recovers quickly. She advances on Beauty, hand raised, and in one smooth move she—
“Whoa!” The Grimm siblings reeled back, wincing like they could feel the echo of that slap.
“Dang, Mama,” Monica tsked. “I think Beauty’s head went all the way around on that one.”
“I’m going to guess,” Samira began, “that Mrs. Cadal did not tell you about this.”
“Your guess is correct,” said Michael.
“You going to speak to the Cadals again?”
Michael shook his head. “I’m done talking. Talking isn’t working. It’s time to try something else.”
“What does that mean?”
“Thank you for this,” he said instead of answering. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Michael,” she called at his back. “What does that mean? You know it’s never good when you get that Grimm mischief look on your face.”
He chuckled but didn’t slow down. Waving over his shoulder, he left the station.
There would be no more talking. People kept spinning him fairy tales, and even with his keen eye, he wasn’t picking up on everything. At this rate, they would not find the killer at all, let alone in three days. He would have to try something else. Something that was less straitlaced private eye, and more Grimm.
“I’M LOVING THIS PLAN,” Monica gushed.
Michael rolled his eyes. “I thought you might.”
They were back at their office.
It was an hour before they opened, so no Ella around to hear their plans.
“This is why I signed on for the job,” said Monica. “For chasing down criminals and uncovering hidden secrets, not chasing down papercuts and uncovering mold in our kitchenette.”
Michael snorted. “Sorry the job hasn’t lived up to your expectations till now.”
“It’s okay,” she said sunnily. “It does now. So when do we go?”
He shook his head at her eagerness. “After we talk to Ella and see if she knows anything that can help us. After that, we break into Gabriel Silva’s dorm.”
“I THINK THE OUTFIT is over the top,” Michael protested. “You just have to spin the resident assistant a story, you don’t need a costume to go with it.”
They had hopped in the car and were headed to Castle Rock University when Monica insisted on making a pit stop.
“I can’t talk to them in my work clothes,” she said calmly. “I have to sell the college student act.”
Michael glanced at her ankle-high boots, skirt, off-the-shoulder top, and silver hoop earrings. “I think you nailed it.”
She beamed. “Thanks. They will let me into his dorm for sure.”
“I love the confidence, but this entire plan is flimsy. Ella doesn’t know anything about him, and can’t look up his class schedule. He might not leave his room for hours. He could have roommates. He could—”
“Whoa, what happened to the cool Michael from an hour ago? Don’t go soft on me now, brother. Not before we commit our first felony.”
Michael’s grip tightened on the wheel. “Don’t say felony. Why would you say felony?!” He was officially spinning out. “What if we get caught and they call the police?”
Michael saw her grin out of the corner of his eye. “Then, you’ll flash that smile and Grimm charm on Samira and we’ll dance right out of the station. The same puppy dog eyes you use on single old ladies like Mary.”
Lifting his chin, Michael said, “Just for that, I’m calling the cops on you myself.”
Her laughter filled the car as he drove through campus and found a parking spot near the dorm.
“We’re lucky Ella lives in the same building as him.”
“We’re even luckier she knows the resident assistant has a weakness for a pretty face,” Monica replied.
Michael bit his lip. “Darn it, that’s true. Maybe I should go instead.”
Monica promptly smacked him upside the head.
Howling, Michael watched as she climbed out of the car and marched toward the nondescript three-story dormitory.
His sister paused at the door and tossed him a thumbs-up before going inside.
Fingers drumming on the wheel, Michael waited in nervous anticipation.
What if he turns her away? What if we don’t find anything? What if Gabriel comes back and catches us? Why did I come up with this in the first place?! This was stupid. I’m going in there and getting Monica out.
His hand was on the door, ready to go, when the phone rang. Michael scrambled to pick it up.
“Monica, get out—”
“Bro, I’m in! They should really fire that R.A. It’s almost criminal how easy that was.”
“It is criminal!” He shook his head. “This was a mistake. We should go.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Do you know how pinchy these shoes are? I didn’t go through all this pain for nothing. Now, unless you see Silva coming, I want you to get your butt
out of that car and help me look.”
Michael grumbled under his breath the whole way through the doors, hallways, and up to the second floor.
Monica poked her head out of a door at the end of a beige hall. “Over here.”
Picking up the pace, he jogged down the hall and slipped into the room, closing the door firmly behind him. He twisted around and scanned his surroundings. Two beds on opposite sides of the room. At the foot of them sat two desks equally loaded down with textbooks, papers, pens, and pencils. It wasn’t difficult seeing which side of the room belonged to Silva. They went straight for the one with the giant blown-up picture of him over the bed.
“Could this guy be any more in love with himself?” Monica muttered.
“I doubt it,” he replied, scoffing. “So what did you say to get in here?”
Monica turned to him with a grin. “I told the R.A. I spent the night here and forgot my keys. I whined about needing to get into my room and get my project, because I had a huge presentation in twenty minutes and etcetera, etcetera, sob, sob, sob. He moved pretty fast when the waterworks came on.”
“Sometimes you scare me, Monica Grimm.”
She shrugged lightly. “Sometimes, I scare myself.”
He chuckled and pointed at the window. “His room faces the entrance, so you should be able to see if he comes back from class. Keep watch while I’ll look.”
“Gotcha.” Monica took up her position by the window. “So what are we looking for again?”
“I don’t know,” Michael admitted while rifling through the papers on Gabriel’s desk. “I just have a feeling that there is more to this guy and after yesterday it has intensified. He just happens to be wandering around Kingdom Film Studios the day Beauty almost got hit by a studio light. That is supposed to be a coincidence?”
“It would have been before they started dating,” Monica added. “Which makes it doubly weird.”
“Ella can’t find much on him, except that he is a hospitality major who grew up in another town, and he has been pretty good at not sharing much about himself. I need to know what makes this guy tick.”
