“I already told you that she’s my sister-in-law. We want to talk to you about the party.”
“No.” Amy seemed a little too adamant for someone who had nothing to hide.
While I’d told Belinda about being holed up with Amy in that room in Luke’s mansion, I hadn’t mentioned Amy’s bizarre behavior. At the time I’d assumed it was her way of dealing with the stress; now I was starting to wonder if it was something else. But what could that something else be?
Belinda’s mouth opened as if on a hinge. “Amy.” She took a breath, then gave her a gentle smile. “Okay, how about this? We’ll just have lunch and talk about everything but the party?”
Amy looked uncertain.
“You said you wanted to hear all about the Martin wedding. It turned out even crazier than we thought it would.”
Amy’s mouth twisted as she considered the offer.
“I can go if you want,” I said. It was starting to seem like Belinda would get more information out of her if I weren’t around.
“Don’t be silly,” Belinda said, placing her hand on my arm. “You can stay.” She turned to Amy. “Tell her she can stay.”
Amy paused, casting a glance to Belinda. “You can stay.”
A few moments later, we were following the hostess to a table. I still wasn’t sure staying was the best decision, but it seemed too late to back out now.
We sat down and Belinda and Amy made small talk about a mutual friend until the waitress took our orders. Then Belinda launched into a story about a wedding she’d orchestrated for two people from very different backgrounds—the bride was from a stiff upper-crust Belle Meade family, and the groom hailed from a rambunctious family from a small Alabama town.
I downed my salad in record time, partly because I was starving and partly because I wasn’t part of the conversation, not that I minded. Listening to Belinda’s story meant I could momentarily forget the circus of my own life. But then she swung the conversation back to Amy.
“You’ve done a remarkable job handling the adverse publicity from the murder,” Belinda said as she chased an olive on her plate with her fork. “I’ve heard no negative feedback whatsoever about Luke’s party ending with a murder.”
Amy shifted in her seat a little, and from the look on her face, it was like Belinda had caught her shoplifting. “I have to admit part of it came from Magnolia’s idea.” She gave me a grudging look of gratitude. “She helped me put a new spin on the party after the sales for Luke’s latest album came in lower than expected. Your idea totally saved the day, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
Belinda gave me a warm smile.
“I tried to channel the same thought process you used to find a new spin on this situation.” Amy raised an eyebrow. “I might have had a hand in the #GoodRiddanceGoodwin hashtag . . .”
Belinda seemed caught between horror and respect, settling on the latter with a nod. “Well, good for you.” She finally stabbed the olive with a satisfying thunk and looked back up at her friend. “The way that hashtag has been catching fire, I suspect there must have been a lot of people at the party who had motive to kill Max Goodwin.”
Amy looked uncomfortable.
“Why, I’ll bet half a dozen or more of the guests held a grudge against Max Goodwin.”
Amy’s face hardened. “Belinda, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Amy, what are you so afraid of?”
“Afraid of? What are you talking about?” But her hand gripped the fork a little more tightly than was warranted. “I’m just not supposed to talk about it.”
“Who says you’re not supposed to talk about it?” Belinda asked. “The police?”
Amy hesitated. “Luke.”
“Because of the publicity?”
She didn’t answer.
Belinda gave me a questioning glance, then trained her patient stare back on Amy. “Do you think you could give us a copy of the guest list?”
Amy looked down at her plate. “I can’t.”
“Come on, Amy. Surely Magnolia didn’t have the strongest motive. I know for a fact that Henry McNamara was there. He hated Max, and so did Paul Locke after Max screwed him on his contract.” When Amy stayed silent, Belinda leaned closer. “How about a hint on how to contact Paul?”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Like Belinda said,” I added softly, “there were a lot of people who wanted to get even with Max. You wouldn’t be telling us anything we couldn’t find out on our own. You’d just be helping us save time.” I leaned forward and held her gaze. “Amy, I didn’t kill him, but I’m pretty sure the police are about to arrest me.”
Tears filled her eyes again. “I don’t want to lose my job.”
“Are you protecting someone in Luke’s entourage?” I asked.
“No. Of course not!” But her response came out a little too fast and insistent.
“You know,” Belinda said in a soothing tone. “Once Magnolia’s name has been cleared, the police will go looking elsewhere. It’s obvious you know of someone else who might have a motive but who, like Magnolia, obviously didn’t do it . . . only maybe it won’t be so obvious to the police.”
Amy hesitated, gnawing on her bottom lip.
“While we’re clearing Magnolia’s name, we can look for evidence to prove he or she is innocent too. Maybe we’ll find the real culprit and free them both.” She paused. “But we have to know who you’re protecting.”
Amy glanced around to see if anyone was listening, then leaned close, whispering so low it was hard to hear her. “Luke. He could be a suspect.”
That was the very last name I’d expected to hear from her.
“He didn’t invite Max to the party—in fact, he forbade him from coming. Luke heard about your argument with him, and he was pissed that the security guards had let him in. I think that’s part of the reason he had me go find you. To see who had dared to stand up to Max Goodwin in public. Everyone was afraid of that monster.”
I shook my head. “You don’t need to worry, Amy. It couldn’t have been Luke. He was the one who walked in and found me next to Max’s body.”
She didn’t look convinced.
“Couldn’t the hallway guard just tell the police when he let Luke in?”
Amy shook her head. “No. Luke would have taken the back staircase.”
That meant the real killer had probably used the back staircase too. Maybe Colt hadn’t seen anything useful after all.
Belinda patted her hand. “You know, if you left your iPad unlocked and on the table, maybe even open to the guest list, you’d have no way of knowing if someone saw it.”
“Belinda, I don’t want to get into trouble. I shouldn’t have even told you about Luke.”
Belinda’s hand squeezed tighter around Amy’s. “You won’t. No one will ever know.”
Amy studied her for several seconds, then gave her a slight nod. She pulled her hand loose and took her iPad out of her bag. After tapping on the screen for a few seconds, she said, “I need to go to the ladies’ room.” She gave Belinda a tight smile as she stood. “I suspect this might take about five minutes.”
We watched her walk around the corner before Belinda grabbed the tablet and got to work.
“Why’s she so nervous?” I asked, glancing back toward the hall.
“Luke is a pretty private guy. He doesn’t tolerate people giving up his secrets.”
“Yeah, but there seems to be more to it than that.”
Belinda’s face lifted and she held my gaze. “You of all people should understand celebrities’ need for secrecy.”
“But doesn’t she trust you?”
She sighed as she tapped the screen. “Honestly, losing this job would be healthier for her. Luke doesn’t appreciate her like he should, but Amy puts up with it.” Her face lifted slightly to give me a sideways glance. “Amy is secretly in love with Luke, only it’s not so secret to Luke and to a few of the people in his entourage.” She paused and frowned. �
�He takes advantage of that.”
Griff had taken advantage of my need for him, so I knew all too well what that felt like. “So she’s terrified that he’ll find out and she’ll lose her job?”
She nodded.
“Why would she love someone like that?”
Belinda went still for a moment before she resumed typing. “We love who we love, Magnolia. Sometimes we’re too damn blinded by it to take a step back.”
I nearly gasped to hear Belinda curse, something I’d assumed would only happen on a cold day in hell, but the resignation in her voice gave me pause. Was she referring to Roy? I knew my brother, or at least I used to know him. It wasn’t a stretch. He’d shown bullying tendencies when we were kids, and I wasn’t so sure he’d outgrown them by the time I’d left.
My gaze lifted to the hall. “She’s coming.”
Belinda finished her tapping and then opened up Amy’s photo folder. As Amy sat down, she pointed to an image of an ocean sunset. “This is gorgeous. Was that taken on the West Coast?”
“L.A.”
This game seemed ridiculous, but that wasn’t to say I didn’t understand it. Plausible deniability. Amy knew we had looked at the file, but she hadn’t seen us do it.
Setting the tablet down, Belinda waved to the waitress. “I’m sure you have a million things to do,” she said to Amy. “But we need to get together under better circumstances.”
Amy released a short laugh. “It’s hard to believe we’re still the same girls who moved to Nashville six years ago.” Her mouth twisted into a sad smile. “Look at us now. Neither one of us are doing what we came here for. Do you ever wonder if you’re on the right path?”
Belinda’s smile wavered. “Of course. Everyone does.”
Amy shook her head as she reached for her wallet. “Listen to me get all nostalgic. But you’re right. I really do need to go. Luke’s having another small party tonight. I need to get things ready for it.”
“Industry people?” Belinda asked.
Amy’s upper lip curled as she pulled out her credit card. “His hangers-on.”
“You put your money away,” Belinda said, patting her hand. “My treat.”
Amy slipped her card back into the slot in her wallet, then stuffed it into her purse. She glanced up at Belinda with tears in her eyes. “I know you don’t understand.”
My sister-in-law was silent for several seconds. “I understand better than you think.” She lowered her voice. “But someone killed Max Goodwin, justified or not. And it sure as heck wasn’t Magnolia. I have to protect her.”
“But you’re choosing her over me, Belinda. We’ve been friends for years, and you barely even know her.”
Belinda’s jaw tightened. “These are two entirely different situations. I’m protecting her. You’re just covering for your boss.”
Tears flooded her eyes. “Don’t be so sure about that.” She stood to leave, but then turned and said, “Check out Tina Schmidt. I heard a rumor that she threatened Max at a club a month ago. Like actually threatened to kill him. She was at the party.”
With that, she walked away, her heels clicking across the tile floor.
The waitress came to drop off the bill, but Belinda handed her a credit card without even reviewing it.
“Did you get the list?” I asked as she pulled out her phone. “You didn’t write anything down.”
“I emailed it to myself.”
“What if Luke suspects she told us and checks her email?”
“It won’t be there. I signed into my own email account, then uploaded the file and sent it to myself.”
Belinda was turning out to be a whole lot savvier than I’d expected.
“But a quick search on social media tells me where Paul Locke and Tina Schmidt currently are.”
“You’re kidding.”
She flashed me a sweet smile. “Feel like dropping in on a few people and saying hello?”
“Are you serious? You want to question people?”
Her eyes widened. “Sure, why not?”
“But you’re so sweet. Going to people’s homes and practically accusing them of murder seems so wrong.”
She jutted her head back and frowned. “No one’s accusing anyone of anything.” She shook her head at my silliness. “All we’re doin’ is asking about the party. That’s all.”
“I think Momma is expecting me to come help her in the kitchen.”
She pulled out her phone and started swiping. “I’ll just send her a text to let her know we have some work to do. I’ll drop you off when we’re done.”
“Maybe we should give the names to the police and let them look into it.” But as soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to reel them back in. I didn’t trust Detective Holden to check into them. But even if it needed to be done, it didn’t sit well. “So we’re really doing this?”
Belinda’s face lit up with a cheerful smile. “We’re doin’ it.”
“Where do you want to start first?” I asked. She was the one with a car, a situation I needed to remedy soon. I’d had a car back in high school, but it was in Momma’s name, so I was sure she’d sold it long ago. I hadn’t needed or wanted one in New York.
“Let’s start with Tina. She’s easier to track down. She says on Facebook that she works at Macy’s at the Belle Meade Shopping Center. And she used Instagram to post a photo of a tacky customer just an hour ago. What do you say we go have a chat?”
We were about to investigate Max Goodwin’s murder, which had to be the craziest thing I had ever done, and after living in New York for ten years—and in the theatre world to boot—that was saying something.
I pushed out a deep breath. No one had ever claimed I took the safe route.
“Count me in.”
Chapter 14
We found Tina Schmidt in the housewares department, talking to a customer about thread counts on sheets. She looked like she was barely this side of jailbait. Max had used her? The thought made me sick to my stomach.
“How about I talk to her?” I suggested. “And you can stand close enough to listen.”
Belinda nodded. “You put your acting skills to work.”
The customer made her decision and headed to the register; Tina restacked the sheets she’d taken off the shelf.
Showtime.
“Tina?” I gushed. “Tina Schmidt?”
It was obvious from the look she gave me that she didn’t recognize me one bit. “Yes?” She sounded wary.
I cocked my head. “I’m Delilah.” A grin spread across my face. “You don’t remember me, do you? I can’t believe you don’t remember.” She looked confused, then horrified. Bingo. “From Luke’s party.” I looked down at my dress and laughed. “I was dressed a lot different from this. I just finished a modeling job. Gotta do what pays the bills, right? But last night I had on jeans and a sequined shirt.” It was the most common combination I’d seen at the party.
“Right . . .” She narrowed her eyes. “Oh . . . yeah. I think I remember you now.” She gave me a sheepish grin. “I confess that I don’t remember much from the party.”
Well, that would certainly explain why she didn’t recognize me. It was obvious she was under twenty-one. Did Amy know underage children had been drinking at Luke’s party?
Good God. When had I gotten so old?
Resisting the urge to shudder, I lifted an eyebrow in a conspiratorial look. “All that free booze . . . who can resist?”
She chuckled. “I know, right? But I remember a whole lot of what happened after I left.” Tina wore the grin of a satisfied woman.
I grinned back and nodded, wondering what she meant. She seemed pretty pleased with herself, so maybe she’d be inclined to spill. “From the booze to that hot bartender on the upstairs landing, it was the perfect party.” I sure as hell hoped Colt would never find out I’d said that. “That’s why I couldn’t believe it when I heard what happened to Max Goodwin. And right after you and I had just talked about how he’d screwed us both o
ver. Like literally.”
She blinked. “I can’t believe I told you. I haven’t talked about it in over a month. I’ve tried my best to move past it.” She made a sweeping motion with her hand to prove her point.
“Oh, honey. Don’t you worry. It was after Max yelled at that really cute and super sweet catering waitress. The way he treated her was just horrible.”
“I kind of remember that . . .”
“In any case, you and I swapped stories about how Max promised to sign us if we’d sleep with him and then backed out of his end of the deal.”
The frown on her face made her look more sad than angry. “Yeah.”
This girl hadn’t killed him. She was just trying to move past the pain and humiliation of being used. “Anyhow, I was walking through Macy’s and saw you over here, so I decided I just had to warn you that the police are talking to people who were at the party. You’ll need to get your story straight. You know . . . work out your alibi for where you were when he was killed.”
She looked worried for a second, but then it faded. “That’s not a problem. I hooked up with Lee Jackson.”
I gave her a blank look. “The country singer?” Lee Jackson had a bunch of hits back in the 1990s—the type of songs that just wouldn’t go away—and he was still living off the laurels and the residuals. His reputation was almost as bad as Max’s. And he liked ’em young too. Stupid girls fell for his let me show you a few tricks scheme—only his tricks were all in the bedroom, not the recording studio.
She gave me a smug look. “One and the same. He told me he was looking for a backup singer and wanted me to audition. He took me home and I auditioned, if you know what I mean . . .” Then she winked.
I’d seen him milling around at the party. Years of living hard had not been kind to the man.
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “And it covers the time Max was killed? 9:30?”
“We were doing the nasty by nine.” She winked. “Several times and ways. That man sure is creative.”
“And the backup signer job?”
“Sugar, we both know there was no backup singer job.”
Center Stage: Magnolia Steele Mystery #1 Page 16
