Chapter Eight
In the morning, Agnes met Eleanor in Mrs. Barry’s kitchen. Eleanor was waving a cup of coffee just under Mrs. Barry’s nose, until Mrs. Barry snapped.
“Stop it, would you? Can’t you see I’m reading the newspaper?” Mrs. Barry asked.
Eleanor fidgeted with the fabric of the yellow slacks she wore. “It might be good for your hangover.”
Mrs. Barry let out a growl. “I don’t have a hangover, that’s for lightweights.”
Agnes tightened the waistband of her white slacks and stayed well out of the fire range. “Plus, coffee is more of a diuretic. What she needs is good old-fashioned glass of water,” Agnes said.
Mrs. Barry tossed her car keys across the table at Agnes. “Why don’t you girls get lost? Er, I mean… go investigate. Isn’t that why you’re here?”
Agnes snatched up the keys and led the way to the door. As she made way for the driver’s side, she noticed a long scratch along the side of Mrs. Barry’s car. She pulled out her cell phone and snapped a picture.
Eleanor asked, “What did you do that for?”
“Don’t be a dolt, dear. It’s quite obvious that Mrs. Barry scratched her car yesterday when she hit her mailbox. I just don’t want her thinking I damaged her car. You heard what Kimberly said, Mrs. Barry is lawsuit happy. I, for one, don’t need to be bothered by any frivolous lawsuits.”
“Oh, got ya. Where are we going?”
“I texted Clive Baxter earlier. He’s meeting us for coffee at Starbucks.”
El’s eyes became animated. “You mean they have a Starbucks here in Redwater?”
“Why does that surprise you, El? I believe Starbucks is taking over the world. I could use one of their chai tea lattes.”
“Something I’ve never understood about you, Agnes.”
Agnes made the turn onto M-25, blasting her horn as a car nearly hit her. “What’s that?”
“You claim you like coffee, but all you ever do is mask the bitter flavor with all that vanilla creamer.”
“Do you have a point here?”
“I just never understood it is all. Most folks love the taste of plain ol’ coffee, but not you. You mask it.”
“I don’t see what this has to do with anything. It’s just the way I like it, is all. I don’t pick at you because you eat chicken with ketchup.”
El’s brow shot up. “What’s wrong with that, Agnes?”
“Besides that it’s … gross?”
Eleanor laughed. “Strange word choices for you, don’t you think?”
“Okay then, disgusting.”
“I don’t say anything to you for eating ham with ketchup.”
“But it’s good that way.”
Agnes turned into the Starbucks parking lot and hurriedly pulled into a parking spot before the car coming the other way had a chance to steal it, earning her a horn blast. The women then made their way inside and stood in line until it was their turn. Eleanor ordered a black coffee, and Agnes, although she rather admired the fragrances of bitter coffee mixed with steamed milk that permeated the place, still played it safe and ordered her chai tea latte. Both women all but ignored the tasty treats displayed in a glass case.
Once they had their drinks, they made way for an empty table, but a man waved at them. Agnes eyed him up, presuming he was Clive Baxter. His blond hair was slightly wavy and his blue eyes twinkled. He was quite a looker, Agnes thought, as she admired his slender and muscular shaped beneath his white trousers and tee.
“Are you Clive Baxter?” Agnes asked, just to be sure.
“Yes, please sit. Corrine told me you wanted to question me about Clare Barnett.”
Agnes made their introductions and Clive shook their hands briefly. “Thanks for meeting us Clive. I just—”
“We wondered,” El corrected her.
“Yes, well … we wanted to know how well you knew Clare Barnett?”
He smiled. “Well, I hired her as a spokesmodel for Corrine’s perfume line, Pretty and Hip, which was to coincide with Kimberly’s lotion line, Pretty and Pregnant.”
The door to Starbucks opened and Kimberly Steele floated in with a clack of high heels. She waved at Agnes and clamored over to the counter, coming back with a coffee cup in her hand. Clive leapt up and grabbed a spare chair from a nearby table for her. Kimberly sat. Her cheeks were quite rosy and they watched as she set her small pink purse on the table.
“What did I miss?” she asked.
“We just started,” Agnes informed her, wondering if Kimberly had a tracking device planted on them, since she kept showing up like she did. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask the questions.”
“Not at all.” Kimberly rubbed her palms together. “I can’t wait to see a real investigator in action.”
Agnes smiled kindly, but turned back to Clive, and with a serious tone she asked, “As you were about to say, Clive?”
“I had intended to hire Clare for the perfume line, but when I first came to Redwater and I saw Kimberly Steele,” he grinned. “I must admit I was smitten.”
Kimberly giggled at that. “Oh, come now. I’m just an ordinary, everyday girl.”
Clive smiled deepened, revealing dimples. “If you think that, Kimberly, you are sadly mistaken. You’re—”
Agnes placed a hand on the table. “Can we just stick to Clare? As you know, Kimberly is a married woman now.”
“I was going to say radiant, Kimberly,” he said with a wink. “Anyway, I just had to snatch Kimberly up for the ad, but that was before I knew she was pregnant. That was when Corrine decided a lotion ad was more in line for Kimberly, but Clare didn’t care for that a bit. She was ousted from the ad at the time, and to go one step further, she lost Jeremy Preston to Kimberly. It’s no wonder Clare treated Kimberly badly.”
“But Clare was hired as a spokesmodel afterward, right?”
“Yes, Agnes, but that didn’t ease Clare’s mind at all. She was still quite upset about Kimberly and Jeremy’s marriage. I had hoped she’d let things go, but that just wasn’t to be.”
“So she still treated Kimberly badly?”
“Yes.”
“What about more recently. Were you involved personally with Clare Barnett?”
“Not like you think.”
“Were you dating her?”
El butted in. “Sleeping with her?”
“Not at all. I have the utmost respect for the models I work with.”
Agnes pulled out a piece of paper from her purse. “Oh, and what about Sasha Reynolds? According to this tabloid, you two were quite a couple.”
The smile on Clive’s face vanished. “You shouldn’t really believe what you read in any tabloid, Mrs. Barton. They’re not exactly known to be truthful.”
“Just answer the question, since I believe charges of sexual harassment were filed by Sasha against you.”
Clive folded his arms across his chest. “That’s a total lie. I have never sexually harassed any woman in my life. Sasha was just like that when she couldn’t get her way. You can ask Jeremy Preston about her. He represented me in the case.”
Agnes took a sip from her chai. “Oh, don’t worry, I plan to.”
El smiled at Clive. “What happed with the lawsuit?”
“It was settled out of court. I hated to do it, but I just couldn’t see any way out of it. Corrine is perfectly aware of what happened and she hired me in spite of what that tramp claimed.”
“Then why settle?”
“It makes you look guilty,” El added with a frown.
“It was a business decision. I just couldn’t handle a lengthy lawsuit. I needed to get back to work and put the whole mess behind me.”
El sipped her coffee. “That makes sense.”
Agnes massaged the back of her shoulder. “So, you claim not to be personally involved with Clare. Then why did you murder her?”
Kimberly’s eyes widened. “Oh, come on. He just told you—”
Agnes patted Kimberly’s hand. “Let m
e handle this.”
Clive spat from between gritted teeth. “I had no reason to kill Clare, nor did the notion ever enter my thoughts. I knew Kimberly and Clare had their differences, but I had hoped it would all work out. It took us all by surprise when Clare was murdered. I can’t image how Corrine plans to recover her perfume line with the spokesmodel dead.”
Agnes leaned back in her chair. “I’m sure it will all work out. Is there anything else you could tell me about Clare, like, does she have a boyfriend or any stalkers?”
Clive rubbed the back of his neck. “No. As far as I knew, she was still hung up on Jeremy. I believe she really thought she still stood a chance with him.”
“That’s what the problem is. Kimberly, I’m afraid this whole case still points to you,” Agnes said with a frown.
“B-But—”
El smiled at Kimberly sympathetically. “Not to worry, we’ll figure it out. We always do. We have those three men at the bar to question yet.”
“Yes, and in our experience, clues have a habit of showing up when you least expect them to. Plus, I’m sure Clare’s father will be here soon. He just might have something of use to add here,” Agnes added.
Clive’s eyes about bugged out. “Good luck with that one. I’m so glad I won’t be around when you question him. He’s quite the bastard.”
“Meaning what?”
“Vincent Barnett is a big time Hollywood player and he’s used to getting his own way. I can only imagine he’s quite distraught over Clare’s death. He really pulled out the stops for her. He’s also the reason we hired Clare as a spokesmodel. He doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, ever.”
“Is it also true that he was a friend of Corrine Campbell, your boss?”
“Yes, but you’ll have to talk to Corrine about that.”
“Thanks for your help, Clive, but can you tell me where you were the day Clare met her end?”
“I was at the pier with Corrine most of the day, wrapping up from the photo shoot.”
“Where would I find the wardrobe assistant?”
“Antonio Lefevre is staying at the beach house with the rest of the crew.”
“Crew?”
“Sure, it takes a whole crew for a photo shoot. We do it up in style. Corrine is very detail orientated.” He jotted down the home’s address on Lakeview Drive.
Agnes and Eleanor finished their beverages and they shook Clive’s hand once again.
“You know, young lady, you shouldn’t be drinking caffeine when you’re pregnant,” Agnes chided Kimberly.
“Not to worry, it’s decaf,” Kimberly said, taking a long sip.
Eleanor made a face. “Yuck. I’d rather go without.”
“What can I say? I just love the taste of coffee.”
El snickered. “Did you hear that, Agnes? Kimberly loves the taste of coffee. Agnes masks the flavor with too much creamer.”
Agnes held her head up high and left, with Eleanor trailing after her. Kimberly clacked behind her, shouting that she’d meet them at Lakeview Drive.
Chapter Nine
Once Agnes was behind the wheel and Eleanor had settled into the passenger seat, Agnes cranked up the engine and tore out from the lot.
“Use OnStar for directions, Eleanor,” Agnes said.
Eleanor complied, pushing the blue button and dictating the address for directions.
Without much prompting, Agnes was soon on the winding road with a view of Lake Huron. The lake practically sparkled as the sun shone upon it. She adjusted the mirror and a car trailed behind her that she figured was Kimberly Steele.
“So, what do you think about, Clive, El?”
“He’s quite a looker.”
“Besides that, I meant. Do you believe his story?”
“Which one? He sure seemed to have a few.”
“About the model?”
“He might be telling the truth. Women these days can be quite predatory. Many men are more than willing to pay out cash just to make their little problem go away.”
“True, but it never looks good for them. He sure has the eyes for Kimberly, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely, but she’s as cute as can be and she doesn’t seem to know it, which makes her even more attractive. I wonder how far Clive would go to protect Kimberly.”
“We’ll check out his alibi, but if Corrine verifies it, we’ll need to move on.”
Eleanor gripped her purse as Agnes pulled into the driveway of a white-painted beach house, jumping as a car pulled alongside them, but Agnes waved, as it was Kimberly Steele.
“For a pregnant woman, that Kimberly is a real go getter,” Agnes said.
“Who can blame the girl? After all, her tail is on the line,” Eleanor said.
“True, but she needs to watch out. She sure doesn’t act like any pregnant woman I have ever met, and did you see those heels she wears?”
“Oh, yes,” Agnes said, clucked her tongue in disapproval.
“Poor dear is going to break something trouncing around in them.”
Agnes kept her lip zipped as Kimberly approached the driver’s side window, softly tapping on it. Agnes powered down the window and smiled. “Is this the place?”
“Oh, yes. How are you planning to proceed?”
“About the same way, but please don’t interrupt this time. Let me handle it my way, dear.”
Kimberly frowned a bit and then said, “Sorry about that, but Clive has always been so good to me.”
“That’s just the problem. You just never know who might be involved in Clare’s death. It might even be someone you know well. I just want to prepare you if it swings that way.”
Kimberly opened the door for Agnes and the trio walked to the front door, ringing the doorbell. They exchanged a look when it wasn’t immediately answered.
“What should we do now?” Kimberly asked.
The door whipped open and a flustered Antonio stood there. “Is there a problem?”
Kimberly made the introductions, and Antonio invited them into a circular room with white plush couches along the walls. The glass-topped tables were filled with empty beer cans and bottles.
“Are you having a party?” Agnes asked.
Antonio placed a hand on one hip. “Not anymore. I just woke up, please excuse the mess. Please sit.”
Kimberly opted for a nearby chair, while Agnes and Eleanor fell back against the plush cushions of the couch, nearly toppling over.
“Wow, this couch is something,” El said.
Antonio sat opposite them. “Isn’t it, though? So what brings you by?”
Agnes righted herself. “I was hoping to question you about Clare Barnett.”
He waved a hand. “Oh, her,” he rolled his eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, it was awful to hear about her death, but she was a royal pain in the ass.”
“How so?” Agnes asked.
“Too demanding, for one. I think she believed she was a diva when the truth was that she was virtually unknown as a model. If it hadn’t been for her father, she’d never have been hired as a spokesmodel for the Pretty and Hip perfume line.”
“What makes you an expert? Aren’t you just a wardrobe assistant?”
“That hardly makes me dense.” He pointed to his head. “There’s nothing wrong with my hearing, girl. Corrine didn’t make it a secret that she wasn’t happy with Clare’s antics.”
“No?”
“Of course not! Clare caused drama wherever she went. I’m sure Kimberly remembers how she wanted to dress like a trollop at the photo shoot.”
Kimberly nodded. “It’s true, but Corrine set her straight rather quickly.”
“And how did Clare handle that?”
“She tried to push me off the pier, that’s how. I had every intention of playing nice with her, but she was having none of that. Oh, this is hopeless. With the way this is going, I’ll be arrested for Clare’s murder for sure,” Kimberly wailed.
“Not if I have anything to do about it,” Agnes said with a wink
. “Antonio, do you know anyone who was involved with Clare or wanted her harmed?”
“No. Like you said before, I’m only a wardrobe assistant. What would I know?”
“I’m sorry I said that, Antonio. I’m all ears, I assure you.”
“She had this woman that brought her to the photo shoot. I never saw her before and have no idea who she was.”
Agnes took out her notebook. “Could you give me her description?”
“Well, she was tall and thin with flowing blonde hair. I think I remember Clare calling her Sasha.”
Breaths were expelled. “Was it Sasha Reynolds?” Agnes asked.
“I never heard a last name, just the first.”
Agnes pulled out her cell and did an online search for the actress Sasha Reynolds. Sure enough, a picture popped up and Agnes showed it to Antonio. “Was this the woman?”
He put a hand along his jaw as he inspected the photo. “It looks like her, but I can’t be sure.”
“Did Corrine or Clive see her there?”
“No, that was before they had arrived. I thought it was odd that she took off. Most hangers-on stick around longer.”
“A what?”
“Someone who likes to hang around a photo shoot. Most of these girls have their own motives, always hoping to be discovered.”
“And here you said wardrobe assistants didn’t know anything,” Agnes said with a smile.
Agnes, Eleanor, and Kimberly said their goodbyes and strode outside for a private discussion.
“So, what do you think about that?” Agnes began. “Could Sasha Reynolds actually be an acquaintance of Clare’s, and if so, why would she bring her anywhere near Clive Baxter?”
Kimberly bit her lip. “Perhaps Clare wasn’t aware of who Sasha really was.”
“Or if she was, she had one hell of an ulterior motive.”
“Like what?” Eleanor asked.
“Maybe Clare was plotting against Clive.”
“I don’t get it. Why?”
“Maybe another blackmail scheme.”
“I don’t see Clare that way,” Kimberly said. “She wanted to be famous.”
“True, but maybe she was using Clive to get what she wanted.”
Kimberly shook her head. “Clive didn’t say anything like that.”
1 Pretty, Hip & Dead Page 7
