1 Pretty, Hip & Dead
Page 9
“Wow, that’s sure a tangled mess. I wonder if Jeremy knew that.”
Jeremy walked in with a squirming Weenie. “Know what?”
This time it was Eleanor who caught Jeremy up to speed.
“That’s news to me. If I had known Clare was involved with Sasha in any way, I would have dropped her quick. That woman really put Clive through the wringer.”
Agnes turned her attention to Jeremy, “Where were you exactly at the time of Clare’s death, Jeremy?”
“I was at my office.”
“I see, and can someone confirm that?”
He squared his shoulders. “Yes, my secretary, Gladys.”
“Well, I suppose you didn’t decide to silence Clare on your wife’s behalf, right?”
“Not at all. I only arrived to talk some sense into Clare’s head.”
Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Good luck with that. She was beyond logical thought.”
Vincent slammed down his glass. “That’s enough from you. Why don’t you leave, all of you?”
Agnes roared in laughter. “You say that like you own the place.” Her head snapped in Jeremy’s direction. “Does he?”
“Own my chalet? No.”
“Then why are you tolerating the man speaking to your wife like this?”
Jeremy shook his head in defeat. “Vincent, perhaps it is best you stay elsewhere.”
Vincent’s face turned about purple. “You’re throwing me out?”
“Look, Kimberly is my wife and she shouldn’t be under this type of stress right now. She’s pregnant.”
Vincent glared at Kimberly’s belly from beneath hooded eyes. “I can see that, but maybe she should have thought about that before she murdered my daughter.”
Kimberly balled up both her hands into fists and shouted, as she stomped a heeled foot, “I did not kill Clare!”
“I know all about your type, conning a man into matrimony when you’re pregnant with another man’s child.”
“Vincent, that’s enough,” Jeremy shouted. “Pack your bags and get out of my house!”
“Boy, you fail to understand—”
“You have no idea who Kimberly really is or the circumstances related to our marriage.”
“And you have no idea whom you’re dealing with.” Vincent stormed off and up the stairs, out of sight.
Kimberly took a few steps toward Jeremy and threw herself into his arms. He hugged her close as Agnes and El drifted toward the door until Kimberly asked, “Where do you two think you’re going?”
“To question the next man on the potential suspect list.”
“Not without me, you aren’t. Jeremy, keep an eye on Weenie. Make sure that man doesn’t get a chance to harm him before he leaves.”
“Not to worry. I’m sorry I ever told the man he could stay here. I just wasn’t thinking straight.”
With a wicked grin on her face, Kimberly said, “Just don’t let it happen again.”
“Kimberly, please be careful—all of you,” Jeremy implored.
Chapter Eleven
The trio of detectives made way for the south side of Second National Bank, which was currently under construction. Two men were seated at a bench, both of them with torn blue jeans hugging their muscular legs, their tee shirts sporting a Jane’s Construction logo.
“Jane’s Construction?” Agnes said out loud. “Is that company owned by a woman?”
The men looked up with sandwiches, but neither had a chance to reply, as a women dressed just like the men said, “What, you never heard of a woman owning a construction company before?”
Agnes rather admired the silver of the woman’s styled hair. “No, I haven’t, but it’s a novel idea. Are you Jane?”
The woman smiled, her mouth full of false teeth that fit perfectly in her mouth. “I sure am. And who might you gals be?”
“We’re investigators. We were looking for a Bryan Donner.”
One of the men stood, dropping his sandwich. “I’m Bryan, but I can’t imagine why any investigator would want to speak with me.”
Jane’s brow arched. “Indeed. I assure you I thoroughly check the backgrounds of all my employees.”
Agnes smiled. “Not to worry. It’s just that we had heard Byran might have known the woman in town that was murdered recently.”
“In Redwater—are you sure?”
“Quite. Maybe it would be best to talk with him privately. At this point, we’re not accusing him of taking part in the crime.”
Jane flicked a strand of hair behind one ear. “Who was the woman murdered?”
“I’m not sure if you know her: Clare Barnett.”
Her eyes widened. “You mean that woman from Hollywood that Jeremy Preston briefly dated?”
Kimberly’s lips formed a big ‘oh.' “Are you a friend of Jeremy’s?”
“He’s my attorney. He went over some contracts for me not long ago.” She spied Kimberly’s belly. “So, you must be Kimberly Steele, his brand new wife.”
“Yes, and I’m afraid if we don’t find a viable suspect for Clare’s murder, I might be pegged for it.”
“Who could blame you, dear, after she so actively pursued your husband?”
“Well, she sure tried her best to make me look bad, but I swear I never touched that woman. If only she hadn’t fallen in the lake.”
“Lake? I so need to hear that story,” Jane said, her face animated.
“Well, she was trying to push me into the lake and I pushed back. And well ... she fell in.”
Jane clapped her hands. “Good girl. I’d have socked her in the eye, personally.”
Eleanor snickered. “I like how you think, Jane.”
“And who are you, now?”
“I’m Eleanor Mason, and this is Agnes Barton. We’re from East Tawas. We were hired to help clear poor Kimberly’s name.”
“That’s great, but I can’t believe this girl could harm a flea.”
“Thanks,” Kimberly said. “D-Did you know Clare personally?”
“Not at all, but I’ve seen her out and about. She had airs about her, that one. I don’t know what Jeremy ever saw in her.”
“Me, either,” Kimberly said, “but he’s from Hollywood himself. Maybe he prefers women like her.”
“If that were true, he’d never have married you, dear. Jeremy obviously made the right choice, so don’t give up on that man, no matter what happens. If I were ten years younger, I’d have pursued him myself,” Jane added, with a glint in her eye.
“You’re a woman after my own heart,” Eleanor said. “We have so much in common.”
“Oh, you also own a construction company?”
“Well, no ... I just have an eye for the younger fellas, too.”
“That was before she got engaged to Mr. Wilson, her beau,” Agnes interjected.
“Oh? Mr. Wilson reminds me of that Dennis the Menace character,” Jane said.
“He’s twice as comical as that Mr. Wilson,” Agnes said. “We’re still trying to find out what his real first name is.”
“You mean she’s marrying a man and she doesn’t even know his first name?”
“Nope, but at our age, us girls can’t be so choosy, if you know what I mean.”
Jane winked. “Boy, do I ever.” She turned to Bryan. “Go ahead and talk with the ladies, I’ll give you an extra hour for lunch.”
Bryan nodded and followed the women a short distance to another bench that was out of hearing range of his co-workers. “What do you want to know?”
“Did you know Clare?” Agnes asked.
He shuffled his feet and sighed. “No sense in denying it. I did, yes. She routinely came to Peyton’s Pub, as most of the single folk in town do. Not too many other places to go.”
“So, you met Clare there, then?”
“Yes, and she sure drew enough attention, but girls like her always do.”
“Girls like her?”
“Well, she always dressed so provocatively and smelled so nice.”
&
nbsp; “Did you pick her up?”
He laughed low in his throat. “The thing with Clare is, you never knew if you picked her up or if she was picking you up. She was on the aggressive side, if you know what I mean.”
Agnes flicked away a dandelion fluff that drifted her way. “Please, be specific.”
“Shoot, I barely got in my truck before she was on me. We did it right there in the parking lot. It’s not the way I like to do it, but I couldn’t get her off me.”
Agnes gave this some thought. “And that bothered you?”
He pulled at the neck of his tee. “I know men are supposed to all be dogs, right? But I’m just not like that. Sure, at the time I was drunk enough, but I’m getting too old to keep doing things like that.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be going to bars, then,” Agnes said. “It’s not like you’ll meet a decent girl there. I’m sure there are a few churches in town.”
El expelled a heavy breath. “Nobody goes to church to meet a girl. They use online dating sites these days.”
Agnes glared at El. “That’s a horrible idea, unless you want to meet an axe murderer.”
Eleanor rolled her eyes. “You have to get with the times, Aggie. There’s this one site...” She buried a finger in the flab of her chin. “I think it’s called Plenty of Fish.”
“What? That sounds like a—”
“Oh, I’m on there,” Bryan said. “Still fishing, I guess.”
Kimberly snickered. “These days, that’s where people go to meet someone.”
“You have to be so careful, though,” Agnes said.
“Yes, you meet in a public place or bring a friend. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be careful, but it’s harder to meet someone these days.”
“Now Kimberly, surely you never used such a site before?”
“No, but I know plenty of people who met on online sites and some even went on to get married later.”
“Really? No way I would ever do anything so risky.”
“Oh, don’t you have a man friend?”
“She sure does, Attorney Andrew Hart. He’s her fiancé and former boss. When he came to East Tawas, Aggie was all over him like cheap cologne.”
Agnes fanned herself. “I-I hardly think that’s how it went.”
Kimberly covered her mouth with one hand. “Oh, that’s funny.”
“We’re here to question Bryan, remember?” Agnes reminded them.
Bryan was smiling widely at this point. “You girls are a real hoot.”
“So, how often did you and Clare, you know—?”
“Just once. She made her rounds.”
So Clare was a slut, thought Agnes. “I see. Did anyone bother Clare?”
“She seemed to enjoy the attention, if you want to know.”
Agnes pulled out her notebook and jotted down a few sentences. “Did she ever come in with anyone else?”
His eyes went vacant for a moment. “I’d rather not say. I mean, I’m not one to judge.”
Agnes’s hands went to her hips. “Oh, do tell. I’m sure it’s not anything I haven’t ever heard before.”
He raised a brow. “I’m not so sure about that one, but I have no reason not to tell you. She came in with another woman, a blonde, a few times and they weren’t just good friends—”
“Please don’t hold anything back. Kimberly’s freedom might well depend on it.”
“They often sat at a back table and were often seen making out.”
“Kissing each other?”
“They made quite a spectacle of themselves and the bartender broke it up a few times.”
“Why is that?”
“You know how men can be when they see chicks making out. They took to hooting and hollering.”
“I see. Well, can’t say I blame him if it was like that. Did anyone get lucky enough to take them both home?”
“They never acted like they wanted any male company the nights they were together.”
“Have you seen the blonde other than when she came in with Clare?”
“Nope. Haven’t seen her since, either.”
“You took that question out of my head, boy. Thanks, but are you sure you don’t have any idea who might have wanted to harm Clare?”
He shook his head. “Sorry.”
“How about anyone who got jealous when she left with another man?”
“No. I know this sounds immature to you, but some of the guys took a pool of money to bet who she’d leave with next.”
Agnes shook her head. “Can’t say I’d blame them if she was that loose, but it does surprise me since she was so gung-ho on getting Jeremy back.”
“She just had hot pants, is all,” El said with a straight face. “Sometimes a girl has to do what a girl has to do.”
Agnes raised a brow. “Oh, talking from personal experience here?”
“God, no, Aggie. I was just sayin’.”
Kimberly’s cheeks reddened. “This sure is a surprise. I can’t imagine Jeremy had any clue she was like this, but I’ll sure ask him later at home.”
Agnes thanked Bryan and they left, heading back to Jeremy’s Chalet. Agnes wanted to be on hand when Kimberly asked Jeremy about Clare’s previous reputation.
***
An hour later, Kimberly paced the floor as she grilled her husband. “So, Jeremy, where did you really meet Miss Hot Pants?” Jeremy tried to rise from his chair, but Kimberly pushed him back down. “Don’t you dare play dumb with me.”
“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“She means Clare Barnett,” Agnes clarified.
His eyes widened. “What does it matter now?”
“If we are to find out who really murdered Clare, we need to have a clear picture of who she really was.”
Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck. “I see. Well, I’ve done business with Vincent Barnett and that’s how I met Clare. She was home one day when I stopped by to deliver contracts.”
Kimberly stopped pacing. “I see. Please go on.”
“I stayed for dinner and she was very engaging. I asked her out, with Vincent’s approval, of course.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I was doing business with the man. I knew it wasn’t the best idea, but I guess I just didn’t see who Clare really was until much later.”
“Oh, and who was she, really?”
Jeremy made a grab for Kimberly, but she pulled away. “Kimberly, when Clive hired you for the ad, Clare’s claws came out. When I saw how she treated you, I was livid. She said horrible things about you, too.” He sighed. “It brought out my protective instincts out. I had to protect you from Clare at all cost.”
“I’m confused,” Agnes said.
“We had a quickie wedding,” Kimberly explained. “But originally, Jeremy had proposed to Clare. I about passed out that day, but Jeremy and I started to spend time together and before either of us knew what was happening, he proposed to me under the guise it was only to protect me from any negative press since I was going to be a spokesmodel for the Pretty and Pregnant lotion line.
“That’s strange. This day and age, I can’t image it matters if a company uses a pregnant woman who happens to be single. So, you fell for it, just like that?”
“Yes, Agnes. It seemed reasonable at the time, but before either of us knew it, we fell in love and we were married shortly after.”
“I see. How exactly do two people fall in love just like that?”
Eleanor puffed up her chest. “Oh, come on, it’s just so cute.”
“Actually, I fell in love with Jeremy way before that, but I never expected him to feel the same way.”
Jeremy smiled. “Who wouldn’t love a girl like Kimberly? I fell for her the minute she waltzed into my office for a job.”
Agnes’s brow shot up. “Oh, and she worked for you, too?”
“Yes, I know it was kind of quick, but Kimberly was so pregnant. I wanted to seal the deal before she delivers. I’ll take on the role as fathe
r even though the baby isn’t mine. I’m one hundred percent committed to my marriage and my future role as father. I’ll raise the baby like it’s mine.”
“So, what happened to the baby’s daddy?”
Kimberly frowned. “He died in a hunting accident before he ever found out I was pregnant.”
“That’s awful, dear. I hope you made the right decision. Not that I think your marriage to Jeremy is wrong, but are you still grieving the father’s death?”
Jeremy sat upright. “I hardly think she is—”
“That’s not entirely true, but we were on and off for a while, so I guess it’s not the same as being married for any length of time.”
Agnes gave a curt nod. “I agree. When I lost my husband it took awhile to get over him, but life must go on. I really salute Jeremy for stepping up to the plate when it’s not his responsibility.”
“I’m adopted,” Jeremy informed them. “I never gave it another thought. All I know is that I love Kimberly with all my heart and soul. Now, if only I can get her out of the mess she seems to be in. Any luck finding another suspect?”
Kimberly stomped a foot. “You people are so getting off track here. Jeremy, did you know Clare was a slut?”
“That’s a bit much, Kimberly,” Jeremy said. “Just because you don’t care for Clare isn’t a reason to say something that harsh—the woman is dead now, after all.”
“Yes, I know. We were informed that she was picking up men from Peyton’s Pub.”
His brow arched severely. “That doesn’t sound like the Clare I knew at all.”
“Well, perhaps she wasn’t who you knew at all since she was also seen at the same place making out with Sasha Reynolds—the same woman who sued Clive.”
“I heard this already and like I said before, I don’t know anything about that. She must have done all of that because she was so distraught when I married you.”
Kimberly punched the air with her fists. “Why do you keep defending her?”
Jeremy stood and held Kimberly an arm’s length away. “I swear, I’m not. If Clare was like that before, I was clueless, but if you were informed she had done those things, I believe you. Please, don’t let this case get between us.”
Kimberly fell into Jeremy’s arms and he held her for a few moments and guided her to the sofa. “Please rest, dear.”