by Trisha Grace
Sarah groaned when she opened her eyes. Her head was pounding so hard she thought her brain might just implode at any moment. “Oh, Lord.”
Why did people drink when they would have to wake up to such a headache?
Why did she drink? She should’ve known better.
She ran her hand through her tangled hair, wincing whenever her fingers got stuck. “Ugh.” I’m never touching another glass of liquor. She scrambled out of bed and accidentally kicked the wine glass she’d left on the floor.
The wine glass landed with a hollow thud on the hotel’s carpeted floor. She bent forward and groaned at how the slight movement could make her feel worse than she already did.
With her eyes partially closed, she picked the wine glass up and set it on the small wooden desk in the room before trotting to the bathroom.
She looked into the mirror at the mess she was in and gasped.
Was that blood?
She rubbed at the dried blood on her face as she leaned closer to the mirror, trying to find the wound under the streaks of blood.
Nothing.
She tugged at her light blue T-shirt that was also streaked with blood. She pressed down on her body, and there wasn’t any pain. Where did the—She stopped and lifted her hand. How could she have missed that?
There was a deep cut along the length of her index finger and several smaller cuts on the tips of her index and middle fingers. She frowned at her reflection in the mirror. What happened? Why couldn’t she remember how she got hurt?
She took the face towel folded neatly above the towel rack and turned on the tap to wet a corner of the towel. She cleaned the blood off her face, then rinsed off the blood on her finger. She winced as she pressed on her wound, but it was no longer bleeding, so she decided to leave it as it was.
She got back to the bed and cringed when she saw blood all over the covers.
The housekeeping staff would probably think a murder happened. Perhaps she should stay and explain to the maid what happened. But what exactly did happen?
She sat on the bed and closed her eyes.
She remembered grabbing her things from Elena’s place and calling a taxi. She’d left Keith’s car at Elena’s house and headed over to the hotel. She hadn’t cared where she stayed, so she told the driver to take her to the closest hotel.
Her tears had run dry by then, and she was able to get herself checked in and even ordered room service.
Right. Room service. She’d ordered dinner and a bottle of wine. She vaguely remembered eating, but that was it. She couldn’t remember anything after that.
She must’ve broken something.
Sarah glanced around her room. Nothing seemed to be broken. There were no shards of glass lying around anywhere.
Where was the plate from dinner anyway? Did she put it outside?
Shaking her head, Sarah gave up.
Her brain had clearly stopped working once the wine got into her system.
She should just take a bath and wait for the maid to come for the daily housekeeping. And perhaps a warm bath would make her headache go away. After that, she could think about what she would do.
Keith cracked open one eye and groaned at his massive headache. He straightened, stretching his back before wincing at the sudden pain in his temple. He reached for it as he glanced at the rear-view mirror and saw himself in it.
He cursed when he saw dried blood streaked down one side of his face, then froze when he realized he was in a car—and it wasn't his.
He looked at the black leather of the seats and the cross dangling from the rear-view mirror. Elena. He’d taken Elena’s car, but how did he end up—Where was he anyway?
He turned his attention outside the car and groaned. “No, no, no.”
The front of the car was smashed up against a tree. Elena’s going to kill me.
Keith checked the time on his watch. It was nearly seven in the morning. Had he fallen asleep in the car? How did he fall asleep? He wasn’t even tired.
He pressed his hand against his head.
He’d been at the studio with Spencer and Elena before he changed and drove out here. He couldn’t have dozed off. But he did remember feeling weird the moment he left the studio.
Sarah. He didn’t have time to deal with this now. He’d already been late yesterday. By now, who knew where Sarah would be? So despite the grogginess in his head and the aches in his body, he sprinted up the road and ran toward Elena’s place.
He sighed, relieved when he saw his car parked outside her place. He wasn’t too late.
He slowed his pace and jogged over to the house. He was about to enter the number code into the keypad when he decided to knock instead. He didn’t want to barge in on Sarah after all that had happened.
Keith waited for about a minute before knocking again, then turned when he heard a car rolling in.
Elena and Gina got out of the polished black sedan. Gina slammed the door closed while Elena stood with her hands on her hips.
“What did you do to Elena’s car?” Gina asked and strode over.
“Did you—” Elena frowned and squinted. “You’re hurt.”
He glanced back at the door. “Where’s Sarah? Why isn’t she opening the door?”
“What do you mean, ‘Where’s Sarah?’” Elena closed the car door and walked over. “You were supposed to meet her last night. What’s going on?”
“I can’t remember.” He stepped aside while Gina entered the passcode into the keypad. “Sarah?” He went in after Gina.
“You can’t remember?” Elena’s eyes narrowed again as she leaned closer and took a sniff. “Did you go drinking instead of coming here?”
“No!”
Elena straightened while Gina glared up at him.
“Don’t vent your anger on us,” Gina said.
“I'm sorry.” He sighed and headed toward the stairs. “Which is her room?”
“Forget it.” Elena picked up a yellow note from the white console table. “‘Thanks for letting me stay, and I’m sorry for leaving this way. Sarah.’” She looked over at him. “I’m sorry.”
“Call her,” he said. “She probably won’t answer my call, but she may answer yours.”
Elena nodded. “I’ll give it a try.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and after several taps on the screen, she brought it up to her ear. She turned away. And for a moment, he thought Sarah answered.
But Elena turned back around almost immediately. She shook her head. “Voicemail.”
He took a deep breath, then exhaled heavily. “I need to find her.”
“Maybe you should have someone look at that first.” Elena pointed at his head.
“I’m fine.”
“This is crazy.” Gina shook her head while staring at her phone. “Miriam’s dead.”
“What?” Keith and Elena exclaimed at the same time.
“That’s what the news is saying.” Gina handed the phone over to Elena. “She was found dead in the studio this morning.”
Keith stared at Elena. Gina had no reason to lie, but he couldn’t believe Miriam was actually dead. He just spoke to her yesterday. He ran his tongue under his teeth when Elena nodded. “What happened?”
“They think it’s murder.” Elena handed Gina back her phone, and Gina answered a call.
“Yes, I’ve heard. Okay. Okay. I’ll let her know. Do we know anything else? Do the police know what happened? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Okay. Okay.” Gina slid her phone into her back pocket. “They found her body nearly an hour ago. The people who are already at the studio are supposed to stay and give a statement, but the rest of us should just stay home. The detectives will come around to talk to us.”
Keith sighed. “I need to find Sarah.” He didn't like the idea of Sarah alone in L.A., not when a murder had just happened on set.
“You keep saying that, but how are you going find her?” Gina asked.
“I don’t know. I’m just going to drive around. I can’t sit and do nothing.” H
e half jogged toward the door. “I’ll get you a new car—”
Elena waved him off. “Go.”
Chapter Thirteen
“What’s this about me being a suspect?” Keith asked as he stepped into Elena’s house, frustrated at her insistence that he come back even though Sarah hadn’t returned. “I told you: I need to look for Sarah.”
Spencer glanced over at him from the living room, then turned back to Elena. “He has the key to your house?”
Keith stopped. “What are you doing here?”
“I was worried about Elena.”
Keith sighed, but he didn’t have time to deal with Spencer now. “Have you heard from Sarah?” he asked Elena as he moved toward the couch and took a seat next to Spencer.
Elena shook her head. “Forget about Sarah for now. You need to be worried about yourself. Have you called your lawyer? Is he on the way?”
“Yes, but why do I need a lawyer anyway? Couldn’t you have told me everything over the phone?”
When she called to demand his immediate return to her place, Elena had also instructed him to get his lawyer to meet him here without giving him any reasons.
Spencer frowned at him. “She’s just trying to help.”
“I didn’t have all the information over the phone,” Elena said. “Gina called and said one of the crew members had overheard that the police are issuing an arrest warrant of sorts for you.”
“What?”
“So I called and told you to come over while Gina poked around some more. It seems the police removed a knife from your room. They believe that could be the murder weapon.”
Keith leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and pressed his forehead into his hands. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“The director called your manager and asked where you were. Nora didn’t have a clue. She said you were probably at your place or mine. When the director called, I said you were at yours.”
“Then why did you call me to come here?”
“So you’d have time to get your lawyer here and clean up.”
Spencer nodded. “Yeah, you should really clean that blood off your head. You look like you’ve just murdered someone.”
Keith shot him a glare. “I had nothing to do with Miriam’s murder.”
“I’m not saying you have anything to do with it, but one side of your face is covered in blood. That’s not going to make a good first impression.”
“I’m not going on a date.”
“Where were you last night?” Elena interrupted before Spencer could shoot back a retort.
Keith frowned. “What’s with that tone?”
“I’m just asking what the police will be asking.” She pursed and released her lips as she exhaled heavily through her nose. “There’s blood in my car.”
“It’s probably from my head.” He threw his car’s remote on the coffee table.
“Okay.” Elena’s head bobbed up and down. “Then where were you last night? When I saw you this morning, you looked as if you just got here.”
“Do you think I had something to do with Miriam’s death? Your questions don’t sound as if you’re just asking what the police would ask.” Keith hadn’t realized he’d stood and moved toward Elena until Spencer stepped between Elena and him.
“Enough,” Spencer said. “She’s right. Where the hell did you go? What did you do?”
“I sure didn’t go and kill Miriam.” He ran his hand through his hair. He hadn’t thought about what had happened. He’d only been focused on one thing: finding Sarah. But now that Elena had brought it up, he realized he didn’t have an answer for her questions. “I don’t know what happened.”
“What do you mean you don’t know what happened?” Spencer asked. “I told you to go change.”
“And I did.” He remembered that part. “I went back to my dressing room and changed, then I left.”
“And?” Elena prompted.
He sighed. “I can’t remember. I think I wasn’t feeling well.”
“But you managed to drive here. At least until you crashed my car.”
“I kept drinking water thinking it’d clear my head. I kind of remember driving here. I must have, since I woke up in your car.”
Spencer shook his head. “This isn’t good. You can’t even be sure if you drove yourself here? What were you drinking on the way here?”
“Water. Plain water.”
“Are you sure?”
Keith’s lower jaw loosened, and he twisted it to the side. “The only reason I’ve drunk any liquor in the last six months is because you tricked me down to the club.”
“You could’ve said no.”
Keith clenched his fists.
“Oh, all right.” Elena rolled her eyes. “Now’s not the time to fight over this. Spencer’s right. You need to change your clothes.” She grabbed a cup of coffee off the table. “Do you have spare clothes in your car?”
“Do you have guys’ clothes here?” Spencer asked Elena.
Keith sighed and turned. “My gym bag is in my trunk.”
“Are you seeing someone? Is that why you have guys’ clothes here?” Spencer continued. “Wait. I thought you were celibate. Why is—Where are you going?”
Keith looked at his reflection in the mirror and rubbed his hand over the stubble around his mouth. Besides that, he looked fresh enough after the bath he’d taken in one of Elena’s guest rooms.
He’d washed away the blood on his forehead and changed into clean clothes, a white T-shirt and jeans from his gym bag. Everything’s going to be okay. At least that was what his lawyer had told him.
The questions Elena had asked surfaced in his mind as he glanced into the mirror. “What did I forget?” He took a deep breath and swallowed the questions bubbling up in his throat. He had to pull himself together.
He strode out of the guest room and was halfway down the stairs when he heard Elena shouting from the kitchen, asking the detectives if they wanted apple cider instead of ice water.
“There he is. Apple cider? Water?”
He flashed a smile—the charming smile he always had for the cameras—toward his lawyer, Carlson Day, and the two new faces who he assumed were the detectives.
The experienced lawyer, his short hair gelled stylishly back, smiled, closed his eyes, and tipped his chin slightly toward his chest. The confidence in the small gesture reassured Keith.
“Water,” he said to Elena.
“Okay.” She poured another glass of water and set it on a tray.
Keith went over and took the tray from her, sharing a grim look with her.
She sighed softly before putting on a sweet, charming smile as she sashayed over to the couch.
“Detective Hodge.” Spencer gestured to the detective with streaks of gray hair in a short crew cut.
Two deep lines framed Detective Hodge’s mouth, and the corners of his lips were lopsided, making him look perpetually skeptical. The detective gave Keith a cool glance and nodded as Keith set the tray on the table.
“Detective Wilkes.” The younger detective stood and extended his hand after wiping it down his black pants.
Keith took his hand. “Hi.”
Detective Wilkes smiled nervously and adjusted his slightly oversized black suit jacket before settling down.
Spencer vacated his seat for Elena and settled on the couch’s arm. Keith’s lawyer stood, buttoning his black suit matched with a slim black tie, and gestured for Keith to take his seat on the chair next to the couch while he moved to stand behind him.
“This is Carlson Day. He’s my lawyer,” Keith said as he sat.
“We’ve been introduced,” Detective Hodge said. “I’m sure you’ve all heard what happened to your colleague.”
They all nodded.
“We’ve only heard she was murdered,” Elena said.
“She was stabbed in her dressing room,” Detective Wilkes said while flipping his notebook open.
Elena pursed her lips and nodded slowly. “Is�
��was—Miriam … really pregnant?”
“We’re still waiting for the autopsy results.” Detective Hodge’s eyes scanned all three of them. “We’d like to know where all of you were between six and ten last night.”
Spencer shrugged. “I was at the studio, then Elena met me at my dressing room around seven.”
Elena nodded. “I was with Keith and Sarah at an orphanage until five, then I came home and took a shower before coming to see Spencer at the studio. Keith joined us a couple of minutes later.”
“So the three of you had decided to meet at the studio.”
“No,” Elena said after a moment. “Spencer texted me, so I went down.”
“And I just went to the studio thinking Spencer would be there,” Keith said when Elena glanced over at him.
Detective Hodge smiled. “You sure are popular, Mr. Rowe.”
“All three of you were together in Mr. Rowe’s dressing room,” the younger detective said while scribbling in his notebook.
“Then we went to dinner.” Spencer shared a glance with Elena. “We were at Twenties until eleven, I think.”
Elena nodded again.
“Oh,” Detective Wilkes’s eyes widened. “It’s the hottest restaurant in town. I tried reserving it for my anniversary, but the restaurant said it was fully booked for the next four months.”
Spencer shrugged. “I can get you a table any time. Just give me a call.”
“Really?” Detective Wilkes grinned, displaying his teeth. “Because my wife’s birthday is coming up.”
Elena smiled at Detective Wilkes’s excitement. “That’s so sweet. If Spencer can’t get you the table, call me.”
Keith could sense Detective Hodge’s watchful stare while Detective Wilkes went on the rabbit trail with Spencer and Elena. He was tempted to turn to Detective Hodge, but he didn’t want to draw any attention to himself. Not when he knew he didn’t have the answers to the questions the detectives would ask.
“All three of you went for dinner together?” Detective Hodge asked.
One of Elena’s shoulders twitched. “It was just Spencer and me.”
Keith inhaled deeply through his nose and squared his shoulders. It seemed he wouldn’t be able to avoid the questions after all.
