by Sarah Fox
“Like what?” As soon as I’d asked the question, I clapped my hand to my forehead. “Christine’s sketchbook.”
“What about it?”
“It was in the garbage pail where the fire in the trailer started,” I explained. “I assumed it was just used to get the fire going, that it was something within reach that would burn easily. But Christine sketched a lot of portraits.”
“So maybe she sketched the killer’s portrait,” Lisa concluded.
I nodded, excited by this new train of thought. “If the killer knew that, they’d want to destroy the sketch, in case anyone else saw the picture and figured out its significance.”
“That probably means there’s a good chance the killer doesn’t look exactly as they did back when they got in trouble with the law,” Lisa pointed out. “And maybe the sketch showed what the person used to look like. Otherwise why worry about it? It would just look like Christine had sketched one of her coworkers, or someone she’d seen around town, simply because she thought they had an interesting face.”
“That makes sense,” I said. “After all, Jamal didn’t recognize the guy in the mug shot. If it was someone he worked with—someone whose appearance hadn’t changed much—he would have recognized him right away.”
“So we’re looking for a man. The man from the mug shot, but with an altered appearance.”
“Probably,” I said. “Although Jamal couldn’t see the entire computer screen from his vantage point, so there could have been something he missed.”
“But there’s a good chance the guy in the mug shot is our man.”
“I think so.” I paused, staring across the room.
“What is it?” Lisa asked.
“We haven’t considered everything,” I said. “Christine was strangled with Alyssa’s scarf. Torn-up sketches of Haze Moody—drawn by Christine—were found in Alyssa’s trailer, and she claims she has no idea how they got there.”
Lisa caught on right away. “The killer was trying to frame Alyssa.”
“Which means he most likely is connected with the movie. He must know Alyssa, and if he’s part of the cast or crew, no one would think twice about seeing him hanging around the trailers.”
“And he must not like Alyssa,” Lisa said.
“I’m not sure how much that would narrow down the suspect list,” I said with a wry edge to my words.
Lisa smiled, but then asked, “Is she really widely disliked?”
“I don’t know, but maybe that’s something we can find out. And we should also try to find out if anyone saw Christine’s most recent sketches.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Lisa said. “But I think we is an important word. If you go around asking questions on your own and get the killer worried, you could put yourself in danger.”
“So you’re saying you’ll come with me?” I asked, hoping that was the case.
“Of course. I have a hair appointment this afternoon, but by the time you’re closed up here I should be ready for some sleuthing.”
That sounded good to me, so we agreed that Lisa would return as soon as she was free. After that, with any luck, we’d get a step or two closer to figuring out who had killed Christine and attacked Max.
Chapter 23
Work around the pancake house kept me busy enough that the next couple of hours passed without too many clock checks on my part. When Lisa arrived with her wavy dark hair freshly trimmed, she paid a visit to the kitchen to say hi to Ivan and Tommy while I grabbed my coat. Then we were on our way, walking along Wildwood Road toward the trailers.
Although it hadn’t rained all day, gray clouds moved swiftly across the sky and the damp wind blew our hair off our shoulders and cut through our clothes.
“Another chilly day,” Lisa said, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets.
I glanced up at the slate-gray sky. “There’s supposed to be another storm on the way.”
“More vicious than the last, so I heard.” Lisa shivered. “Which means we’ve probably got more power outages in our near future.”
“As long as I don’t find more heads on my front porch in the middle of the night, I won’t complain,” I said.
“What are you talking about?” Lisa asked with alarm.
I quickly filled her in.
“I probably would have fainted,” she said with a shudder.
“I did get a bit weak in the knees,” I admitted.
As the trailers came into view, I glanced around in search of a familiar face but didn’t spot any.
“Who do you want to talk to?” Lisa asked.
I considered knocking on the door to the hair-and-makeup trailer in the hope of finding Nicola inside, but I ended up heading for the craft services tent instead.
“I’ll start over here,” I told Lisa.
Ducking inside the tent, I found a couple of folding chairs and beyond that, a table laden with fruit, muffins, and other snack foods. A stout woman with short dark hair stood behind the table, wearing a white apron over her jeans and sweater. She regarded me closely as I approached. I glanced over my shoulder and realized that Lisa hadn’t followed me into the tent.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” the woman said. “This food is only for the cast and crew.”
“I’m not here for the food,” I hurried to assure her. “I was just wondering if you knew who found the man who was attacked last night.”
The woman eyed me with suspicion. “Are you a journalist?”
“No, I own a local restaurant. The man who was attacked was a friend of mine.” That last part was a bit of a stretch, but I wanted to ease her suspicions about why I was there.
It seemed to work, and she relaxed. “I’m the one who found him. I was getting ready to set up for breakfast when I saw his foot sticking out from behind the tent. At first I thought he was passed out drunk, but then I saw the nasty gash on his head.” She shook her head sadly. “He was as cold as ice when I touched him to check for a pulse. I called for an ambulance and they whisked him away. Did he survive?”
“So far he has,” I said. “He was still unconscious the last I heard, though.”
She shook her head again. “Such a shame. And it makes me nervous, I’m not afraid to say. First there was a murder a stone’s throw away and now a man’s been attacked right outside this tent. It’s hard to feel safe with all that going on.”
“I’m sure it must be. Hopefully whoever’s responsible will be caught soon. Do you have any idea who might be behind the crimes?”
“Nope. I can’t help but look at everyone here with a bit of suspicion. I rub shoulders with a lot of different people in my business and never know quite what to expect, but I certainly never banked on a murder and an assault right outside my tent.”
At that moment, a group of several people entered the tent, chatting as they headed for the table. I stepped out of the way and said a quick thank you to the woman before I made my way past the new arrivals. I recognized Jeanie Jacobs, Pearl Lam, and Debbie from the wardrobe department, and I gave them a quick smile before leaving the tent.
Outside, a gust of cold wind nearly snatched my breath away. I put my hands into my pockets and huddled deeper into my jacket, looking around for Lisa. I spotted her a short distance away, chatting with Chase Lowman. As I watched, she said something to the actor and then turned my way, her smile so bright it probably could have been seen from a mile away.
“I actually got to meet Chase Lowman!” she gushed when she reached me. “And look!” She showed me her phone. “I had my picture taken with him!”
I couldn’t help but smile at her excitement. In the photo, Chase had an arm around Lisa and an easygoing smile on his face while Lisa beamed.
“It’s a great picture,” I told her.
“Isn’t he a gorgeous man?”
“He is.”
Lisa tucked her phone away in her pocket. “Anyway, sorry I abandoned you there for a bit.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad yo
u had a chance to meet Chase.”
“Did you learn anything?”
“Not really.” I caught sight of a flash of turquoise with the corner of my eye. “But maybe we will now.”
I smiled at Nicola as she crossed the short stretch of grass between the trailers and the craft services tent. “Do you have a moment?”
Nicola frowned at me. “I’m still not convinced you’re not a blogger or something.”
“What?” Lisa looked at the makeup artist with surprise. “Of course she’s not.”
“She sure asks a lot of questions,” Nicola shot back.
“Marley’s trying to find out who killed your colleague. Don’t you want the same thing?” I didn’t miss the hint of suspicion in Lisa’s eyes and knew she was sizing up the makeup artist, wondering if she was the murderer.
Nicola’s frown faltered. “Of course I want Chris’s killer caught. She was my colleague and my friend.” She sighed, and seemed to push away the last of her hostility. “Why did you want to talk to me?”
“We’re trying to get a clearer picture of who the strongest suspects are,” I said.
“I’m not sure I can help you there. The killer could be anyone.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Everyone around here has been looking at each other with suspicion. People have been looking at me with suspicion. It’s not exactly fun.”
“Can you think of anyone who dislikes Alyssa enough to frame her for murder?” Lisa asked.
Nicola thought that over. “Not many people genuinely like her, though plenty pretend they do. But someone who hates her that much? The only person I can think of is Ella Cardozo, and she’s stuck in LA with a broken leg.”
Her name kept popping up, though, and that was something to consider.
“We think Christine’s sketchbook could have held a clue,” I said. “Do you have any idea what she’d been drawing over the last couple of days before her death?”
Nicola’s forehead furrowed as she thought over the question. “Haze. She drew lots of pictures of Haze Moody.” A shadow of sorrow passed across her face. “I think she was really in love with him.”
“Anyone else?” Lisa asked. “Any sketches of another man?”
“Not that I saw,” Nicola said. “The only man I saw her sketching lately was Haze.”
“What about women?” I asked, deciding we needed to be thorough even if we did suspect that the murderer was a man.
Nicola took another moment to think. “There was one sketch of a woman that she was working on right after we arrived in town. I remember getting a glimpse of it as I walked up to her. She closed her sketchbook quickly, like she didn’t want me to see it.”
That piqued my interest. “Was that unusual?”
“Yes. She didn’t normally care if I saw what she was working on, but it looked like she’d erased parts of the drawing several times. I figured she was having trouble with that sketch and didn’t want me to see how much she was struggling with it.”
I glanced at Lisa and could tell she was thinking the same thing I was. Maybe Christine wasn’t so much struggling with the drawing as she was trying to make adjustments to a face that had changed over time. And maybe we weren’t looking for a male murderer after all.
“Did you recognize the woman she was drawing?” I asked, trying to keep myself from sounding too eager or excited.
“No, but like I said, I only caught a glimpse of the sketch.” She looked from Lisa to me. “Is the drawing really that important?”
“It could be,” I said.
“I wish I could remember more. And the sketchbook is ruined now. There wasn’t much left after the fire.”
I felt more certain than ever that it was no accident that the sketchbook had burned.
Nicola’s attention shifted away from us. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, alarm flickering across her face. I followed her line of sight and noticed Del Harris heading in our direction.
“I have to get going,” Nicola said in a rush. “I hope you figure this thing out.”
She left us then, hurrying across the grass to the hair-and-makeup trailer and darting inside. I noticed that Del Harris had paused, his eyes on the trailer. Sadness showed on his face, but then he continued walking, ducking into the craft services tent a moment later.
“So maybe the killer is a woman and not a man like we thought,” Lisa said, having missed what I’d seen.
“It sounds like that’s a good possibility.”
Lisa shivered and glanced up at the sky. “I don’t know about you, but I could sure use a hot drink right about now.”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
“How about we head over to the Beach and Bean?” she suggested. “That way we can get warm while we plan our next move.” She nudged me with her elbow and grinned. “And I can put the picture of me and Chase on Instagram without my hands freezing off.”
I smiled. “I don’t suppose you asked him anything about the murder?”
“It didn’t even cross my mind,” she admitted. “I was far too dazzled by his charm and good looks.”
“I guess I can’t blame you there.”
“Did I mention that he was super nice and gracious?”
“No.”
“Well, he was. He totally didn’t seem to mind chatting with me.” She sighed happily. “Gorgeous and a good personality.” She fanned herself.
I grinned and decided not to tell her about the angry outburst I’d witnessed earlier in the week when Chase thought Max was there to dig up some celebrity gossip. I also didn’t remind her that the actor had threatened Christine. I didn’t want to pop her happy bubble, and maybe Chase was a good guy, despite those incidents.
We set off back the way we’d come, returning to the center of town where the coffee shop was located. As we left the trailers behind, a tingling sensation danced over the back of my neck. I checked over my shoulder, expecting to find someone’s eyes on me. The same crowd that had entered the craft services tent as I was leaving was now heading for the trailers, each person carrying a paper plate laden with food. Nobody from that group was watching me, though, and neither was anyone else, as far as I could tell.
All the same, I was certain that I wasn’t mistaken. Before I’d looked back, someone had been watching me.
Chapter 24
Warmth enveloped us as soon as we stepped inside the coffee shop. I took my hands out of my pockets and followed Lisa to the counter, where we both ordered lattes—mocha for Lisa and chai for me. The place wasn’t busy, so we had several tables to choose from, but as we headed for one by the window, Lisa grabbed my arm.
“Oh, wait…Never mind.” She released my arm. “For a second I thought that was Chase Lowman in the corner.”
I followed her line of sight and recognized Lowman’s stunt double. I told Lisa who he was, and then added, “Ivan knows him from his days in the military.”
“Really?” Lisa said with interest. “Do you think he’d mind if we said hello?”
“There’s one way to find out.”
As we approached the man, he raised his gaze from the newspaper on his table and smiled with recognition. “You’re Ivan’s friend,” he said to me.
“That’s right. Marley McKinney, and this is my friend Lisa Morales.”
He stood up and shook my hand, and then Lisa’s. “Danny Waites. Would you ladies like to join me?”
“We’d love to. Thank you,” Lisa said, wasting no time pulling out a chair and settling into it. “I hear you’re Chase Lowman’s stunt double. That must be interesting work.”
“I enjoy it,” Danny said once he and I were both seated as well.
“Are there lots of stunts in The Perishing?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t say lots, but there are some good ones. There’s only one day left of filming for me, though, and then I have to say goodbye to Wildwood Cove. The rest of the cast and crew will be here a few more days before moving to the next location.”
“Have you enjoyed your tim
e here?” Lisa asked.
“Definitely. Wildwood Cove reminds me of my hometown. I grew up on the Oregon coast.”
We chatted a bit longer about Danny’s work before I decided to shift the conversation in a different direction. “I understand there have been some filming delays, what with the sabotage and Alyssa Jayde being in custody for a couple of days.”
Danny nodded. “The production team is in a bit of a tizzy, but I think everything will work out in the end.”
“It was terrible what happened to the special-effects makeup artist,” Lisa said, helping to push the conversation toward the murder.
“It really was,” Danny agreed. “She was a nice woman, and a talented artist.”
“Any idea who killed her?” I asked.
“No. I just hope it wasn’t someone from the cast or crew. It would be tough to know I’d been working alongside a murderer.”
“Some of the cast members do seem to have tempers,” I pointed out.
“Ah. You mean Chase.”
“For one.”
“What?” Lisa looked from Danny to me, and back again. “He seemed so easygoing when I met him.”
“That’s how he is most of the time,” Danny said. “But he did lose his cool the other day, as Marley knows.”
I quickly filled Lisa in on the incident between Chase and Max. “I also saw Chase arguing with Christine before her death,” I told Danny.
“He didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Danny said. “I’ve known Chase for years. He’s a good guy.”
“He tried to attack Max Fabel,” I reminded him. “And last night someone hit Max over the head, and now he’s in the hospital.”
“That last one wasn’t Chase. No way. Once he cooled down and realized that the journalist wasn’t there to write lies about him, he felt bad about what he’d done.”
“Why did he automatically assume the journalist was here because of him?” Lisa asked.
“Maybe you heard that Chase got divorced a few months back?”
I’d read about that online. Lisa and I both nodded, and Danny continued.
