Agnes’s eyes practically bugged out. “You’d what, let the man stay with you?”
“I was just trying to be neighborly.”
“No offense, Vincent, but Mrs. Barry doesn’t need any man staying with her. It just wouldn’t be right!”
“I’d never take her up on her offer, even if she had the room. I’m more of a gentleman than that. I know you just met me, Agnes, but I respect women wholeheartedly.”
El gave Vincent a sympathetic look. “She doesn’t mean any harm, but Agnes is just trying to protect Mrs. Barry.”
“Now listen, girls. I’m not a spring chicken you know, but I have plenty of spring in my step,” Mrs. Barry insisted.
“Calm down, ladies. I’d never take her up on her offer so can we put that suggestion to bed,” Vincent said with a wink.
Agnes didn’t like his choice of words at all, so she changed the subject. “Since you’re not staying at the beach house, is it empty?”
“It should be, why?”
“Do you have the keys? I’d sure like to take a look around.”
“There is still police tape up.”
“I’m sure they’re done with their investigation by now, but if it’s okay with you, we won’t mention this to the police.”
“Probably a good idea,” Mrs. Barry said. She yawned just then and stood. “I’m bushed. Take me home, Agnes. You girls can investigate without me.”
Vincent fished the keys out of his pocked and pressed a gold key into Agnes’s hand. “I can take Mrs. Barry home while you two check out the beach house, okay?”
Agnes didn’t like this idea at all, but El agreed, “That’s a great idea. Thanks for helping us out like this.”
Chapter Fourteen
When Agnes and Eleanor wandered back to the car, Kimberly Steele was waiting for them. “Going somewhere, girls?
Agnes arched her brow sharply. “Maybe.”
Eleanor opened the passenger door and climbed in. Instead of saying another word, Kimberly, hopped in back, but before she could close the door, Agnes took ahold of it. “What on earth are you doing, dear?”
“Coming with you, isn’t it obvious?”
“I thought you were out on a romantic date with your new husband.”
“I was, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation at the table. There’s just no way I’m allowing you ladies to go investigate without me.”
“Eavesdropping were you, then? And what does your husband have to say about you dumping him for us?”
“He understands. He also knows there’s no way he could talk me out of it.”
“Why not let us handle it from here out?”
“Because, as I’ve told you, I’m the one on the hot seat here.”
Agnes slammed the door shut in irritation, making her way to the driver’s seat. She fidgeted with the key for a moment before roaring the engine to life. To date this was the most challenging of cases. She hadn’t expected Kimberly to be so proactive, or so insistent that she tag along every step of the way.
***
Ten minutes later, Agnes pulled into the circular drive of the beach house where Clare had met her fateful end. The trio of them surfaced from the car; the only sound to be heard was Kimberly’s heels, clacking on the concrete drive. Agnes gave Kimberly the eye. “Would it kill you to wear sneakers? You’re making enough noise to wake the dead.”
Eleanor gulped. “Aggie, don’t say that. It gives me the willies.”
“Heels are all I wear. It’s not my fault they make so much noise. The way you act, you think we’ll run into trouble here.”
“When investigating, you just never know when you’ll run into trouble,” Agnes said.
“Aggie is right. Plus, I don’t know if really we should be here. I can’t imagine that Deputy Danworth would like it much.”
“Dang, El. It’s not like he’s the sheriff in town.”
“I’d rather not run into him anymore if I can help it. He doesn’t like me all that much and I think he has me pegged as the killer.”
“Most likely because you were at the scene of the crime, dear.”
“Oh, and have you always gotten along with the cops in your town, Agnes?”
“My dealings with the local sheriff have improved over time, and my granddaugher, Sophia, is married to a state trooper.”
“I see.”
Agnes approached the large red door and opened it with the gold key Vincent had given her. Inside it was dark except for a light on at the far end of a hallway. “I think someone might be here,” Agnes whispered to the girls.
They made their way past the patio door and Agnes gulped at the sight of dark brown stains on the carpet. Was that where Clare was murdered?
Agnes padded up the hallway until she came to a large bedroom. Inside was a generous canopy bed with a woman sprawled out on it—her blond hair cascaded across the pillows. As they neared the bed, they could see the rise and fall of the woman’s chest.
Eleanor went over to the bed and lowered her head, staring down at the woman with wide eyes. The woman blinked repeatedly, then screamed as she sat upright, knocking Eleanor in the head with a thump.
“Ow!” Eleanor shouted. “What did you do that for?”
The woman panted. “You scared me! Wh-Who are you?”
“I’m Eleanor Mason, investigator, and who are you?”
Agnes noted the empty wine bottles and empty Styrofoam containers discarded about the room. It was obvious whoever this woman was, she had been here for a while.
“Sasha Reynolds.”
Agnes pursed her lips as she neared the bed. “You do know that you’re trespassing, dear?”
Sasha shook her head, her long hair trailing along her shoulders. “Clare told me I could stay as long as I liked.”
“Oh, and was that before or after you murdered her?”
Sasha’s brown eyes widened in shock as she choked out, “I didn’t murder Clare. You have to believe me. I-I could never do that, because—”
“You were in love with her,” Agnes finished for her.
“Y-Yes.” She hung her head.
“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Kimberly said.
Sasha sat upright when her eyes met Kimberly’s. “Were you the one w-who killed Clare?”
“Why would you think I’d kill Clare?”
“Well, for one, she was trying to steal your husband, Jeremy.”
“She never stood a chance of winning Jeremy back.”
“I’m not so sure. All I know is that she spent time with him the night before he married you.”
“So I keep hearing, but how do you know for certain they were doing anything more than just talking?”
“How can you be sure that was all that happened?” Sasha bit her lower lip for a moment and then added, “Clare wasn’t specific, but knowing Clare the way I do, I’m sure it got down and dirty.”
Kimberly clenched her fingers together in fists. “So Clare was a ho. Nothing new since that’s what the guys at Peyton’s Pub said, but how do you fit into the scheme of things?”
Sasha’s eyes darkened. “It was all Jeremy’s fault. Clare was beside herself when Jeremy married you and she just went off the deep end.”
“So, what was your specific relationship with Clare?” Agnes asked.
“We were... you know—”
“Lovers?”
Sasha nodded and wept into her hands. “I can’t imagine who would want to kill Clare.”
“I just don’t understand why you’re staying here with Clare being dead now,” Agnes said. “Does her father know you’re staying here?”
“Oh God, no. He’d have a fit for sure.”
“Why is that?” Agnes pressed. “Is it perhaps because you and Vincent were hot and heavy at one time?”
Sasha dropped her hands in her lap. “Yes, but when I took up with Clare, things changed.”
“Changed how?” Agnes pressed.
“He tried to get rid of me by paying me off.”
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“Oh, and did you take the money?”
She frowned. “I didn’t want to, but Clare told me to meet up with her here. I had no idea at the time that she was far from over with Jeremy.”
“So, what did Clive do that got you in an uproar enough for you to file a suit against him?”
“Clive isn’t how he appears. He’s quite aggressive and when he doesn’t get his way, he ruins your chances of ever working in Hollywood again.”
Kimberly rolled her eyes. “That sounds like a complete fabrication of the truth. Clive is a gentleman and has never done anything to make me think he’s anything but kind.”
“He’s good at convincing you to play along. You’re pregnant, Kimberly. I’m sure that’s why Clive never made a real play for you. If you weren’t, things would be much different.”
“Is there any way you can verify you story?” Agnes asked.
“Sure can.” She got up, her pink nightie swirling along her long legs. She dug into her suitcase and retrieved a notebook with the names Teresa Magnus and Samantha Brite scrawled on it. “Talk to these women and you’ll know I’m not making up my story.”
“Where can we find these ladies?”
“They’re in Harrington, Michigan, on a model shoot. You should be able to track them down at the McGregor Hotel.”
“Why are all you Hollywood girls here in Michigan working?”
“Yes,” Kimberly added. “Why so close to Clive if he’s such a monster? That’s what I’d like to know.”
“For one thing, I was here for pleasure, not business, until Clare was murdered. For the record, plenty of California girls work here in Michigan. Until that governor of yours changed the tax credit for filmmakers, plenty of movies were also shot here, but these days an occasional modeling gig is all a girl can count on.”
“You were seen arguing with Clare the night before she died. What do you have to say about that?” Kimberly demanded.
“Your husband, for one. It made me so angry that she just wouldn’t give up on the fact that she’d never win Jeremy back.”
Agnes pursed her lips. “You must have made up, though. Otherwise, why would Clare have you drop her off at the pier?”
“We were still at odds, but I tried to make amends with her, I swear.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you dropped Clare off that day of the photo shoot. You very well might have been the last person to see Clare alive that day.”
Sasha swallowed hard. “Clare insisted I drop her off, but I swear that I had nothing to do with her death.”
Kimberly crossed her arms. “You never answered my question. When was the last time you saw Clare alive?”
“I picked her up that day and we came back here, but we had a horrible argument and I left.”
“What about?”
“After the way she carried on about Kimberly shoving her into the lake, I just knew she’d never let it go. That’s when I left.”
Agnes stepped forward. “So you would have us believe that you were, in fact, here with Clare before she died, but you are claiming you left before she met her end?”
She nodded her head. “Yes, I know it’s hard to swallow, but it’s the truth.”
Eleanor rolled her eyes. “Hogwash. I just don’t buy it. How did you kill your lover, exactly?”
“I didn’t kill her, I tell you!”
“Sure you didn’t and I’m the queen of England,” El spat.
“I’m not taking a fall for this since Kimberly had more of a reason to kill Clare than me.”
“In her delicate condition, I highly doubt Kimberly capable of such a deed,” Agnes said. “Whereas you—”
“Are more than able,” Eleanor finished.
Sasha opened her mouth, but closed it abruptly with a shrug.
“I think we should call the cops and let them sort it out,” Kimberly suggested.
“Not so fast,” Agnes said. “They might not like it that we’re here at the crime scene.”
“Maybe we should check for clues out there,” Eleanor said. “You know, where Clare was murdered.”
“Good idea,” Agnes said. “If I were you, Sasha, I’d find accommodations elsewhere. If Vincent were to learn you were holed up here, it might not go well for you.”
Sasha went through her suitcases again and threw on jeans and a tee, ignoring the investigators completely as they walked back up the hallway.
Agnes flicked on the lights. “Looks like blood on the carpet, plus that stain on the tile floor. Was there blood on the carpet before, Kimberly?”
“Not that I remember.” She pointed to the tile floor where dark stains were apparent, as if someone had taken some effort to clean up. “That’s where I found her body.”
Agnes shifted her eyes from the patio door to both stains on the floor. “Is it possible the police moved her body when they got here?”
“No, they were too busy working on her right where she was. It’s doesn’t make sense for her body to be moved.”
“Which makes me wonder where the blood on the carpet came from.”
“It could have been smeared afterward, like when Sasha came back here to stay,” Eleanor said. “There is no way I’d ever stay at a house where a violent crime had happened.”
“Kimberly, did you notice anything close by when you found the body that might have been the murder weapon?”
“I wish I had, but it was such a shock finding Clare like that, I guess I just wasn’t paying close attention.”
“Can’t say I can blame you, but it’s looking like whatever they used dropped Clare where she stood. Poor girl might never have stood a chance.”
“Do you really think a woman could do something like that?”
“Women can get quite emotional at times. What if Sasha was so angry with Clare that she just lost it and killed her in the heat of the moment?”
“That makes no sense to me. If Sasha had killed Clare, she’d be long gone, not hanging around here.”
“True.”
Sasha made her way up the hallway, lugging her suitcase out the front door as she left. Agnes shifted her gaze toward the patio door and watched the waves of Lake Huron crashing to shore. Before she had time to say, “It looks like a storm is brewing up,” a torrential downpour unleashed its wrath.
“Looks like we might be here a while,” Kimberly said.
Eleanor hugged herself. “Oh, great. That’s so not on my to-do list, being stuck at the scene of a brutal murder.”
“Now, El,” Agnes began. “There is no need to worry so. It’s not likely that whoever killed Clare is lingering close by. They are long gone by now.”
“Are they? For all we know we faced down her killer not long again. Sasha has all the motives in the world. Clare was her lover, for Pete’s Sake. I’m positive that she got fed up with Clare mooning over Jeremy.”
“I’m not so easily convinced of that, El,” Agnes said. “I’m not sure at this point who would really want Clare dead, but I just don’t buy into what Clare said about Clive. If anything, he had more a beef against Sasha, not Clare.”
Kimberly pursed her lips. “Yes, Clive counted on Clare being a spokesmodel for the Pretty and Hip perfume line. Clive has never done anything that would make me think he’s the type of man to sexually harass anyone.”
“I guess we’ll never know for sure until we question the models Sasha mentioned.”
“But what if they all had an axe to grind with Clive? I’m sure many women with stars in their eyes might figure if they pinch a Hollywood player, they might get what they want out of the deal.”
“Which is what?”
“Movie deals or modeling gigs. Maybe these women thought Clive had more influence and power than he really had. From what I’m aware of, he works closely with Corrine. He handles ads but isn’t involved with the movie industry.”
Agnes stroked her chin. “Was that before, or after, he settled the lawsuit filed by Sasha? Is there any way you can dig into Clive’s past m
ore, Kimberly?”
“I could ask my husband, I suppose, but I swear Clive isn’t one of those guys.”
Eleanor smirked. “When it comes to men, you just never know. Go ahead and ask your husband. I, for one, can’t wait to hear what he has to say.”
The rain tapped the patio door, causing Agnes to jump. Outside the storm clouds were no longer viewable, as night had fallen all in the span of a half hour. “I wonder if we should make a break for it.”
Kimberly’s brows drew together. “I’m not sure it’s safe.”
Eleanor stared at the blood on the ground and agreed with Agnes. “I’m all for getting out of here.”
The three women ran out the door, but Agnes stumbled over an object on the ground. When she went down on her knees she felt the pliable object that felt too much like—a person. She shrieked amongst the roar of the storm when she realized it was Sasha with a knife protruding from her body.
Kimberly helped Agnes up and they ran back to the front door of the beach house. Agnes pulled out her cell phone and called in her discovery. The three women searched each other’s faces in disbelief. Agnes locked the door, hoping that the cops got there before the killer got them.
“Oh, my God,” Agnes blurted out. “Whoever killed Sasha might have been watching us the whole time.”
“Is she really dead?” Kimberly asked with a tremble.
“I saw a knife thrust through her body. I’m not positive, but she has to be dead. She never moved a muscle when I tripped over her.”
Blue and red lights flashed through the windows and Agnes answered the door as soon as the cops pounded. Deputy Danworth was the first inside. “Why am I not surprised that Kimberly is yet again at the scene of a crime?”
Eleanor puffed up her chest. “I don’t like how you said that. For the record, we were all together when Sasha Reynolds was attacked outside.”
“Yes,” Agnes said. “I had no idea that Sasha had been attacked outside. We merely suggested she leave, that’s all.”
Deputy Danworth rubbed the back of his head. “Oh, and why are any of you here? Didn’t you see the police tape all over the place outside?”
“Yes, but we figured the investigation was all over at the scene of the crime.” Agnes pulled out the key. “We were given the key to check out the place by Clare’s father.”
1 Pretty, Hip & Dead Page 12
