“Sure, but we never asked him if Clare was trying to blackmail him.”
“If she even tried, Corrine would drop her like a hot potato,” Kimberly insisted.
“What we need to do next is talk to your husband.”
“Whatever for?”
“He might have something to share. Wouldn’t you like to know if he really was more involved with Clare than he led you to believe?”
Kimberly dropped her head and spoke to the ground. “Not really. I think Clare did her best to put doubts in my head. I love my husband and I don’t see him as being that deceptive.”
Agnes gave Kimberly a quick hug. “I hope you’re right, but maybe it’s best if El and I question him without you.”
Kimberly’s head snapped up. “Not on your life. I believe he’s in the office today. We might as well get it over with. I want answers just as much as you do.”
***
Fifteen minutes later, Agnes, Eleanor, and Kimberly shuffled into the lobby of Jeremy’s law office. Kimberly frowned and darted off to water the plants in the lobby.
An older woman at the desk asked, “How can I help you?”
“We’re here to see Jeremy Preston.”
“He’s busy right now.”
Kimberly strode over, and asked, “Whoever with?”
“Oh, Kimberly, I never noticed you. He’s with a client right now.”
Kimberly apparently wasn’t having it and she stormed into his office. Corrine dropped a cup of coffee she was holding as she stared Agnes down. “How rude. I was here first.”
“Oh, and why is that?”
Corrine put her hands on her hips, yanking up the short, cream-colored skirt she wore up an inch. “This has gotten out of hand. You fail to realize that I’m trying to launch these perfume and lotion lines. Clare’s death has made it quite an inconvenience for me.”
Agnes’s eyes widened in surprise as she grilled Corinne. “Oh, how is a woman’s murder an inconvenience to you? Are you involved in some way? Maybe you were tired of Clare’s antics and decided to get rid of her.”
Corrine gasped. “That doesn’t make any sense whatsoever.”
“It does since you are friends with Vincent Barnett. Maybe you didn’t see another way out of the situation you were in.”
Corrine pounded her fist on the arms of her chair. “You got it all wrong. I planned to talk with Vincent about his daughter, but now it’s too late.”
Agnes backed off a bit. “I see. What do you know about Sasha Reynolds?”
Her eyes widened. “You mean the woman who sued Clive Baxter?”
“Yes. A source informed us that she might have dropped off Clare for her photo shoot.”
“If she had, I don’t know anything about it. No way would I allow that woman anywhere near any photo shoot of mine.”
Agnes turned the table on Jeremy. “How about you, were you involved in Clare’s murder?”
“Of course not! Kimberly, is that what you think—that I killed Clare?”
Kimberly dotted her eyes with a tissue. “I hope not, but what about the night before we were married. Did you sleep with Clare that night?”
Jeremy’s eyes reddened. “I can’t believe I have to keep going over that with you. I love you and only you. If I had slept with Clare that night, I’d have never married you.”
Kimberly hugged her husband. “I know, but I had to ask.”
Jeremy took both of his hands and framed his wife’s face with them. “I love you, Kimberly, and only you. Clare was my past, but you should know by now that you’re my future.”
Corrine glared at Agnes. “I hope you don’t think I had anything to do with Clare’s death. I’ll be the first to admit she was trouble from the beginning, but I really thought she’d calm down. I was confident Vincent could reason with her.”
“And where is this Vincent now?” Agnes asked. “Jeremy, didn’t you pick him up from the airport?”
“Yes, he’s back at the house.”
Kimberly pulled away, “Why is he staying there? I don’t even know the man.”
“I’ve known Vincent for years and I couldn’t just let him stay at the beach house where his own daughter met a violent end.”
“You could have talked about it with me before you made that decision.”
“It’s my house—”
“Our house,” Kimberly corrected him. “I just don’t need stress like this right now.”
Jeremy pulled Kimberly to him. “What are you saying?”
“That perhaps it would be better if I stay elsewhere.”
“I won’t allow that.”
“You don’t have a choice, Jeremy, unless you decide to listen to reason and have Vincent stay elsewhere.”
“I can’t do that now. I already told him he could stay!”
Kimberly held her head high as she left the room. Agnes glared at Jeremy as she spat, “You’re an idiot. Your own wife is a suspect in Clare’s murder and you’re letting the enemy sleep under your own roof.” She then ran after Kimberly.
“He’s not—”
“Hogwash,” El interjected. “Clare treated your wife like trash and how do you think her own father will treat Kimberly now? I don’t blame the girl for refusing to stay there. You need to get with it before Kimberly divorces you.”
Corrine stood and bit her lip for moment, then she finally agreed with Eleanor. “They’re right here. If I were Kimberly, I’d have done the same thing. You need to think about your priorities, Jeremy.” She linked arms with El and left the room, leaving Jeremy to his thoughts.
Agnes caught Kimberly outside and led her to Mrs. Barry’s car, insisting the pregnant woman ride with them back to Mrs. Barry’s house.
***
They stopped by the park before heading back to Mrs. Barry’s house, and Agnes and Eleanor silently observed as Kimberly walked along the shore of Lake Huron. Agnes knew the poor girl was agonizing about Jeremy’s decision to allow Clare’s father to stay with them, but Agnes became concerned when the sun went down, and Kimberly still didn’t budge from a picnic table she had settled on a few hours earlier after her walk. Agnes finally led Kimberly back to the car when mist began to form on the lake as the sun disappeared in the west. It was nearly eight o’clock before they arrived at Mrs. Barry’s, and when she found out what had happened, she had lots to say about the matter. “Men are just idiots,” Mrs. Barry shouted with a fist in the air. “Don’t worry, Kimberly You can stay as long as you need to.”
Kimberly dabbed at her tearing eyes with a tissue. “Thanks, but someone needs to get back to the house and grab Weenie. I can’t leave him at Jeremy’s.”
Agnes gave Kimberly’s shoulder a squeeze. “I can imagine you’ll need more that just that. You only have the clothes on your back.”
Eleanor retrieved the milk from the refrigerator and poured a glass for Kimberly, pressing it into her hands. “Here, calm yourself now. I’m sure Jeremy will come to his senses. You showed him you meant business.”
“If Vincent is that important back in Hollywood, Jeremy is probably friends with him, too,” El said.
Kimberly cleared her throat, holding back her tears. “If that’s the case, I’m sure Jeremy can simply explain to Vincent why he can’t stay there.”
Agnes hated to agree with Jeremy, but she had to say, “I can’t blame the man for not wanting to stay at the same house his daughter was murdered at, but I, for one, would love to meet this Vincent.”
Kimberly sipped her milk. “You’ll get your chance when you take me tomorrow to pick up my things, but I miss Weenie horribly. I just don’t feel up to it right now.”
“Don’t worry. It’s not like Jeremy won’t take care of him for you.”
“A-Are you sure, Agnes?”
“I’m positive. Why not get yourself to bed. I’m sure both you and that baby of yours need some rest.”
Mrs. Barry led Kimberly down the hallway and got her settled into a spare room. Agnes yawned, as did Eleanor, and the
y also decided to turn in for the night. Agnes flipped off the light in her assigned room, but she still felt the eyes of the dolls on her. It was hours before she was able to nod off completely.
Chapter Ten
Agnes had just slipped one leg into her lavender pants when she heard someone shout, “Dirty bitch!”
She hastily finished dressing and ran out into the living room, locking eyes with an angry bird. It was a Macaw—its red, blue, and green plumes spread out like a fan. “Oh, no. Here she comes, watch out, here she comes... another dirty bitch!” the bird screeched.
Agnes glared at a woman with her gray hair piled atop her head. The woman had one hand pressed against her chest, the other holding a glass of orange juice. “Whom does that bird belong to?” Agnes asked.
“It’s mine. I’m Mrs. Peacock, remember, from the East Tawas election bid?”
Agnes straightened. “Oh, yes. That infernal bird is gonna wake the whole house.”
“They are already up.”
“Why is that bird swearing like that?”
“We think he has Tourette’s syndrome. His name if Birdie.”
“Birdie is a dirty bird,” Agnes shouted. “Bad, bad, Birdie!”
“Crazy lady, crazy lady,” Birdy said and whistled. “Crazy lady is dirty bitch!”
El doubled over in laughter. “He’s got that one right.” She bit her lip when Agnes glared at her. “Sorry.”
Kimberly Steele walked into the room, and said, “Don’t take it personally. Birdie doesn’t play favorites. He called Mrs. Barry a lousy drunk earlier.”
“Well, I’m not sure about lousy. I think she does pretty good at tipping it back.”
Mrs. Barry snorted in laughter. “You got that one right.” She was still dressed in a pink bathrobe and slippers. “I hope you plan to take Kimberly back home now. She needs a change of clothes.”
Agnes took the keys from the hook in the kitchen and El, Kimberly, and Agnes strode out the door. Ten minutes later, they pulled up to the chalet, where several cop cars had parked alongside the house.
“What on earth?” Kimberly shouted. “What now?”
As they scaled the few steps to the door, a rattled looking Jeremy whipped it open. His brown hair stood at attention. He wore a white tee with jeans, his feet bare.
“What is going on here?” Kimberly asked, as she walked past him. Agnes and Eleanor trailed after her and they all stopped midstride when they spotted a debonair looking man with blue trousers and a smoking jacket. He even stroked his mustache with a sweep of his long fingers. Why, he could be Clark Gable if there was a time warp, thought Agnes, except that he had a head full of gray hair.
He grinned at the ladies, frowning when he spied Kimberly’s abdomen. “How may I help you ladies?”
Agnes strode over to him. “I’m Agnes Barton, private investigator.” She then thumbed in Eleanor’s direction. “This is my partner, Eleanor Mason.”
El bobbled forward and shook the man’s hand. “And who may you be?”
He tried unsuccessfully to dislodge his hand. “I’m Vincent Barnett, Clare’s father.”
El released him. “Oh, I see. Aren’t you that hot shot man from Dollywood?”
“Hollywood,” he corrected her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you ladies, but I think the cops can handle it from here.”
Agnes narrowed her eyes. “Oh, and what makes you think that?”
Deputy Danworth walked over, his eyelid twitching. “I’m glad to see that Kimberly showed back up. I had thought we’d have to put a warrant out for her arrest.”
Kimberly shouted, “What for?”
“Murder, for starters,” Vincent said. “It’s obvious you murdered my daughter.”
“Well, it’s not obvious to me,” Agnes said.
Jeremy caught Kimberly as she tried to dart away. “Get your hand off me, you. You’re on their side.”
“That’s not true. You’re my wife and—”
She pointed a bony finger in Vincent’s startled face. “Not for much longer if you don’t get that man out of here!”
“I can’t do that. I told you why. I had hoped you had cooled off by now.”
Kimberly put her hands on what used to be her hips. “Look, I only came back to gather my things and my dog, Weenie.” She took a look around. “Where is he?”
“That filthy mutt,” Vincent said. “I let him out last night.”
“Why would you do a thing like that?”
“I just couldn’t put up with his whining.”
Kimberly glared at Jeremy. “Good going. You know he’s probably long gone by now. You know how he is when he gets out in the open.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll go look for him right now.”
Kimberly stormed past him. “Don’t bother. I’ll do it myself.” Jeremy made to follow his wife, but Vincent stopped him.
“It’s about time you face the facts, boy.”
Jeremy’s eyes met his. “What facts?”
“That your marriage just isn’t going to work. I’m sure you can get an annulment fairly easy. Don’t worry about the baby. Word is that it’s not yours.”
“I’m not about to divorce my wife!” he shouted, as he ran out the patio door.
“I can see this is an emotional time,” Sheriff Clay Barry said. “Come on, Danworth, let’s go.”
“What about Kimberly Steele?” Vincent asked. “Aren’t you planning to arrest her?”
“Not so fast. As I told you earlier, we aren’t finished investigating.”
“She was there, isn’t that enough?”
“I’d like to back it up with physical evidence. I’m not building a circumstantial case here.” The sheriff and deputy left, closing the door softly behind them. It was all Agnes could do not to smile.
Agnes suggested, “Maybe we should sit down.”
“And why is that? I’m fine where I am.”
“Suit yourself,” El said.
Agnes didn’t allow him any room to breathe when she said, “In fact, we came here to question you about your daughter’s recent activities.”
“I need a stiff drink,” Vincent said, as he made way for a decanter of bourbon on a table in the living room. He poured a glass and tossed it back.
“Wow, it’s awfully early for drinking rot gut, isn’t it?” El asked.
He whirled. “Not where I come from.” He smiled and sauntered into the living room, sinking into a leather chair.
Agnes tried hard not to roll her eyes. “So, what, if anything, do you know about Sasha Reynolds?”
He leaned forward, his lips curving into a smile. “She’s some actress that sued Clive Baxter, a horrible one at that. She couldn’t even fake an orgasm.”
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?”
He fingered the fabric of his jacket. “Starlets come a dime a dozen and she was more hungry than most. At least she had sense enough not to try that on me.”
“You look like a man who knows how to take care of a problem. Did you kill your daughter, Clare?”
“Aggie,” El spouted.
Agnes ignored her interruption. “Stranger things have happened.”
His eyes glazed over. “And why would I do that?”
“Because she was an embarrassment to you. She was running after a married man, for God’s sake.”
He downed more bourbon. “That’s not how it was. Jeremy would have left Kimberly in time, perhaps after the baby was born.”
“Oh, is that how you see it, because I sure don’t. You saw the man running after his wife with your own two eyes. I know the type of man you are.”
His brow shot up. “And how is that?”
“You’re used to getting what you want and if you can’t have it, you exterminate it.”
He folded his hands over his chest. “Frankly, I don’t give a whit what you think, Mrs. Barton. How would a woman such as yourself have a clue who I really am or just what I’m capable of? If I were you, I’d pick my battles more wisely.”
“
Oh, are you threatening me?”
“Not at all. Look, I came here to find out what really happened to Clare, not be set before a firing squad. I’d caution you to remember that.”
Agnes switched tactics. “You’re probably right. Do you know why your daughter was with Sasha Reynolds? It just seems strange to me since Sasha had sued Clive not long ago.”
“I had dallied with the woman a few times and Clare took a liking to her, I’m afraid.”
“Were they lovers?” Agnes hinted.
“I’m not exactly sure, but they were inseparable in Hollywood, until she met Jeremy.”
Agnes massaged her chin. “I see. Did Sasha give Clare any flak for taking up with Jeremy?”
“Oh, they had a few squabbles, but I convinced Sasha she needed to leave Clare alone.”
“Convince her how—like offering her a movie role?”
“Something like that. It was just a bit part, though, but like I said before, she was hungry. She’d do anything to succeed as an actress.”
“Enough to murder your daughter, do you think?”
“I hardly see how that would be in her best interest.”
“Maybe she wasn’t thinking and bashed—”
El interjected, “Agnes!”
“Oh, sorry. I just wonder if Sasha killed her in a jealous rage, that’s all. Maybe they had a confrontation at the beach house, a lover’s spat, so to speak. Clare might have continued her affair with Sasha after Jeremy married Kimberly.”
“I like where you’re going here,” El said. “And maybe Sasha figured out that Clare just wasn’t going to give up on Jeremy. It was a crime of passion.”
Agnes nodded. “Anything else about your daughter that you’d like to add?”
“She’d have won Jeremy back, I’m sure of it.”
Kimberly glared at Vincent. “Over my dead body. She was delusional and clueless.”
El nodded. “It’s so sad how she kept trying to interfere in their marriage. She was kinda desperate.”
“That is so sad, really,” Agnes agreed, turning to Kimberly. “But even though Clare was dreadful to you, I know you wouldn’t have killed her, Kimberly. It just doesn’t make sense.” Agnes went on to tell Kimberly what they had just learned about Sasha and how she might be a suspect.
1 Pretty, Hip & Dead Page 8
