Some Like It Shot (Movie Club Mysteries, Book 6)

by Zara Keane

  “And if she wasn’t the target,” I added, “and the killer simply wanted to cause mayhem on the set, poisoning the entire tray could’ve led to several deaths and not just the one.”

  “How did no one notice someone tampering with the drinks?” my sister asked. “Movie folks love to gossip, and I haven’t heard a peep about funny business near the shots.”

  “The marquee was pretty crowded, and people were nervous about filming the dance scene. It would’ve been easy to slip a substance into a glass without anyone noticing. What would be more difficult is making sure a specific person drank it.”

  Unless the killer wasn’t picky about who died… The thought sent a sick tremor through my stomach. Yeah, all that fried food hadn’t been smart. “Seems an extreme way to cause disruption on set, though,” I mused. “Up to this, all the incidents were pretty harmless. Going from causing a dancer to fall to poisoning an extra is quite an escalation, no?”

  “Well, what other explanation do you have?” Beth’s brow furrowed. “The fact remains that a woman is dead, most probably from poison, and her death happened right after a number of troublesome incidents on the set.”

  “True,” I conceded, “but it doesn’t feel right. Gretchen’s fall, the dye in Storm’s makeup kit, Coco’s smashed cups… It’s a leap from those incidents to murder.”

  “Yeah, but maybe the killer didn’t mean for Theresa to die,” my sister suggested. “For all we know, Theresa had an underlying health condition.”

  “That’s a definite possibility. The autopsy will shed light on Theresa’s general state of health prior to her death.”

  “And,” Beth continued, warming to the theme, “some of the other incidents might’ve been fatal. If Gretchen had hit her head, for example, or if one of Storm’s clients had an allergic reaction. Perhaps the poison that killed Theresa would make you or me sick, but not kill us.”

  “Until Liam calls and tells me the autopsy results, it’s all speculation.”

  “I know, but I can’t help but worry I was the intended victim. Even if the person behind it only wanted to make me sick, they wouldn’t have known—well, it could’ve been really bad.”

  I ambled around the garden, snapping photos of plants. My sister followed me, alternating periods of loaded silence with sudden, hysterical rambling. After her fourth navel-gazing, woe-is-her diatribe, I’d had enough. “Jeez, Louise. Take a chill pill, girl.”

  She glared at me, her expression mutinous. “If I was allowed to take a chill pill, believe me, I would.”

  “You’re shooting a rom-com. Surely being calmer would help channel the comedic vibe. If you don’t have something to take, ask Brid Kelly, the nurse. I’m sure she has a supply of Valium or similar.”

  “No, Maggie, I can’t.”

  “I understand you’re worried, but stressing and not sleeping isn’t going to help.” I took a few steps and paused in front of a pretty, white-flowering plant. Hemlock. The plant was bushy and plentiful. I cocked my head to the side and examined it carefully.

  “Maggie?” Beth hovered by my side, her nervous energy making my own blood pressure soar.

  I peered closer at the hemlock and sucked in a breath. Was it my imagination, or—?

  “Maggie,” my sister repeated, louder this time. “I have news.”

  My heart pounded against my ribs. I kneeled down to get a better look.

  “Are you even listening to me?” Beth’s voice rose in disbelief.

  I switched on my phone’s camera and zoomed in close. I froze mid-breath. “Do you see that plant?” I pointed to the area of hemlock I’d just photographed.

  “Forget the plant,” my sister cried. “You call yourself a detective? Can’t you tell I’m trying to tell you something?”

  “And I’m trying to tell you something.” I jabbed a triumphant finger at the hemlock, the very plant Noel Tate had suggested when I’d described Theresa’s symptoms. “Part of that plant’s been cut, and recently. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t like that yesterday.” Had Noel suggested hemlock to put me off the scent? I couldn’t rule him out as a suspect.

  “I don’t care about the plant.” Beth broke off in a sob.

  I tried to send the photo to Liam, but the connection wouldn’t cooperate. I spun around to face my sister. “But don’t you see what this means?”

  “Maggie—” she began, at the same time I said, “I bet hemlock was in the shots.”

  “—I’m pregnant.”

  26

  “You’re pregnant?”

  “I drank hemlock?”

  My sister and I stared at one another—me stunned, her horrified.

  “Are you sure?” we chorused.

  I held up my only functioning hand. “My mind’s reeling. Okay. I’ll go first. You’re having a baby?”

  Beth’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I found out the day I arrived on Whisper Island to start filming.”

  “So, that’s why you ignored my voicemail.” A snub I’d taken to heart and held against her until this moment. A sick sensation burned in my chest. Why hadn’t I confronted Beth on her own instead of losing my temper in public? Was my insecurity so extreme that I interpreted everything she did as a deliberate slight?

  “I wanted to call you back, Maggie, but I was afraid you and your clever detective skills would guess something was up. I needed to process it first.”

  “Apparently, my clever detective skills were AWOL, even though the clues were all there. You’ve been a raving pain in the rear—”

  “Now, wait a second—”

  “Sorry, sis, but it’s true. You’ve been moody and preoccupied. And your breasts are starting to rival mine.”

  Beth stared down at her chest. “I know. They’ve ballooned. I’m terrified the wardrobe department has already guessed I’m expecting.” Her lips trembled. “What am I going to do, Maggie? I thought you’d be a mom before me.”

  Yeah, I’d thought that, too. And then my marriage had imploded, thus ending any hope of persuading my reluctant now ex-husband that we should have kids.

  “I don’t know the first thing about looking after babies.” A single tear trickled down Beth’s cheek, and the floodgates opened.

  I shoved my phone into my pocket and enveloped her in an awkward, one-armed hug. “You’ll be fine, Beth. You’ve got this. And I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

  “Yes—” she started to laugh through her tears, “—but can you take your elbow out of my boobs? They already feel like they’re going to explode.”

  “Sorry.” I tried to angle my sling away from my sister. Unfortunately, it proved to be impossible to hug her without simultaneously poking her in the breasts. “Oh, boy. I don’t think this is going to work.”

  We both succumbed to a fit of the giggles.

  After we’d laughed ourselves silly, Beth put a hand to her chest and breathed out. “Gosh, I feel so much better getting that off my chest.”

  “I imagine getting my elbow off your chest was an added bonus,” I said deadpan, and sent us into yet more paroxysms of laughter.

  When we’d finally calmed down, my stomach hurt from belly laughing, and I wiped tears from my eyes. “How does Luke feel about the baby?”

  My sister’s face fell. “He doesn’t know yet.”

  “Why not? When are you planning on telling him?” I paused and braced myself to ask an awkward question. “I mean, I’m presuming he’s the dad…”

  “Of course he is,” she exclaimed, and her expression of prim outrage sent me off into yet another giggle fest.

  “Okay.” I held up a hand in surrender. “I was just checking. No judgement either way. Is there a reason you haven’t told him yet?”

  “We’ve hardly had a moment’s privacy, especially with Con not wanting people to find out we’re a couple. I wanted to pick the right time to tell him, but the right time never seems to come.” My sister heaved a sigh. “And now he’s got this stupid idea in his head that I like Judd. He’s not usually the je
alous type. I don’t know what’s come over him.”

  “I’ve seen Judd in action. He’s a professional schmooze—when he wants to be. Luke probably feels he can’t compete with a movie star.”

  “That’s crazy talk,” Beth said, eyes wide. “Luke’s solid and dependable, and he makes me laugh. You called it when you told Judd he was a jackass.”

  “Well, then why in the world don’t you tell Luke all that? You’ve gotta know he loves you.”

  “And I love him.” She twisted her sapphire ring in an unconscious gesture. This time, the reminder of our grandmother’s preference for Beth didn’t seem to matter. “I don’t want him to feel trapped.”

  “Honey, it takes two to make a baby,” I said dryly. “It’s Luke’s responsibility too.”

  “Oh, I know that. Luke not stepping up isn’t my concern. He’ll be thrilled to learn he’s about to become a daddy. He’s already said he wants us to get married when the movie wraps.”

  A warm happiness washed over me. “You guys are engaged?”

  “That’s why I’m wearing Grandma’s ring.” Beth’s cheeks flushed. “We didn’t want anyone but us to know just yet.”

  “I’m delighted for you, but I’m so confused right now. If you and Luke are engaged, then what’s the problem with your pregnancy? Is it the movie? I’m sure Con will be supportive.”

  She bit her lip. “Do you think so?”

  “Absolutely,” I said, not at all sure. “And if he’s not, you send him to me, and I’ll set him straight.”

  Beth laughed. “I’ll hold you to that. As to why I haven’t told Luke, I just wanted the moment to be perfect, you know? Not a quick ‘Oh, by the way’ between takes. And him being grumpy about Judd isn’t helping.”

  “And you being grumpy about everything?” I teased. “The misunderstanding and missteps aren’t all on Luke.”

  “I realize that.” She blew out her cheeks and smoothed the front of her summer dress. “I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I?”

  “Nothing that can’t be fixed. Why don’t you go find Luke now?”

  “We still have the small matter of poison to discuss, remember?” She wagged a finger playfully at me. “I haven’t forgotten your mention of hemlock. If it was in those champagne shots, I took a sip of one. Do I need to worry?”

  I cast my mind back to the scene in the marquee. Beth had taken the barest sip out of one of the shot glasses. A sliver of fear sliced through my body. “If you’d drunk the champagne shot, you might have died.”

  “Or lost the baby.” Beth’s trembling hand slipped down to her still-flat stomach. “I have this little person to thank for stopping me from drinking that shot. I only took a glass in case anyone noticed I wasn’t drinking and connected the dots.”

  Dots that I, her detective sister, had failed to see, never mind connect. And this was one mental blip I couldn’t blame on my busted wrist. “I can’t believe I didn’t guess you were expecting. In hindsight, it’s blindingly obvious.”

  A small smile tugged at the edges of Beth’s mouth. “Isn’t hindsight always 20/20?”

  “Not always,” I said, “but often.”

  “Are you going to explain what you were saying about hemlock? Right when I blurted out that I’m pregnant?”

  I showed her the patch of hemlock I’d photographed. “See how part of that plant’s been cut? I’m convinced it didn’t look like that when I was here yesterday. I need to confirm with the guy who tends the garden, in case he had reason to trim the plant back.”

  Beth peered at the plant and drew her arms tight around her body. “And if he didn’t?”

  “Then someone removed hemlock from the Poison Garden at some time between ten-fifteen yesterday morning and now.”

  My sister’s gaze met mine. “You think hemlock killed Theresa.”

  “Circumstantial evidence points to that theory.”

  Beth looked around the garden. “You opened the gate with a key. Who else has one?”

  I summarized what Noel Tate had told Liam and me. “But I get the impression you’re thinking along the same lines I am.”

  My sister strode to the section of the wall next to the gate. “How high do you think this wall is?”

  “Three feet, maximum. Think someone can climb over?”

  Beth ran a finger along a plant-free section of the wall. “The stones are uneven. I bet they’re the same on the outside of the wall. I couldn’t scale it, but plenty of people on this set would manage it no problem.”

  “That’ll make narrowing down my suspects a piece of cake,” I said, regarding the grooves in the wall gloomily. “We have dancers galore, not to mention the stunts team.”

  “Can I help you investigate?” my sister asked. “I promise I won’t get in the way. People like you better than me, but I have easier access to the wardrobe, hair, and makeup departments than you do. I can ask around, see who’s visited the garden since we arrived on Dolphin Island.”

  “I don’t want to put you in danger, especially not in your condition. This isn’t a game.”

  She put her hands on her hips and stared me down. “I’m not an idiot. I won’t take risks. Theresa’s death is a hot topic today, and I have a reputation for drama. Let me freak out in front of a few people and see how they react.”

  “Bad idea, Beth. You don’t want to provoke a potential killer into panicking. Leave the investigating to me, Liam, and Lenny.”

  She wrung her hands in exaggerated exasperation. “Lenny? You think he can do a better job than me?”

  “Yes,” I said simply. “He’s eccentric, sure, but Lenny’s no fool.”

  “Neither am I. Theresa was poisoned by champagne shots that I might’ve drunk.”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” I cautioned. “We’re well into speculation territory.”

  “But you and I know that’s what happened. I’ve said from the start that someone’s out to hurt me. I have a right to know who that person is.”

  I drew in a breath and held it for a long moment. “Okay, fine. But on two conditions.”

  My sister instantly perked up. “Name them.”

  “Number one, stick to the people and places you have to be today. For example, you mentioned hair and makeup. Babble about Theresa’s death. Speculate about the shots. See how people react.”

  “I can do that. What’s the second condition?”

  “At the first hint of a bite, call me, Luke, or Liam.”

  “You’re assuming I’ll have a cell phone connection.”

  “Yeah,” I conceded. “You have a point. In that case, play stupid, stick to your schedule, and get me a message whenever you can.”

  My sister bounced from foot to foot with excitement, reminding me of Lenny, the investigator whose skills she’d so derided. “I will, I promise. It feels empowering to finally exert my agency over the situation.”

  Her word choice brought a smile to my lips. “Have you been reading screenwriting books?”

  “By the dozen. Seriously, though, I won’t take any unnecessary risks.” She patted her washboard stomach. “I have the baby to think of.”

  “How about we rephrase that to ‘No risks, period’?”

  Beth held out her hand, and I shook it. “Sis, we have a deal.”

  27

  Forcing myself to focus after Beth’s revelation wasn’t easy, but I didn’t have a choice. I needed to ask Noel Tate if he’d trimmed back the hemlock in the Poison Garden, or if the cutaway section of the plant had been stolen. As he’d predicted, I wasn’t able to get through to Noel’s cell phone, so I left a message on his landline. I explained what I’d discovered and asked if he would call me back, either on my cell phone or on the landline in the castle library.

  Once I’d dealt with the caretaker, I tried calling Liam, but I couldn’t get a connection. I glanced at my screen. The bad signal had gone from one bar to zero. Grumbling about how dependent we’d become on modern technology, I headed back to the castle. I’d try to reach Liam�
�s cell phone from the landline in the library.

  When I reached the library, I knocked on the door. There was no response, so I tried the handle. The door was unlocked. As Con was paranoid about security, I guessed the lock was still broken. I was about to step inside when a meaty hand clasped my shoulder.

  “Are you allowed in there?” A stocky security guard eyed me with suspicion.

  “This says I am.” I pointed to my Access All Areas pass. “So, you can remove your hand from my person.”

  The guy didn’t look convinced, but he did drop his hand. “Does that pass count for Mr. Ryder’s office?”

  “I need to make an urgent phone call, and I can’t get a signal on my cell phone.”

  The man scratched what was left of his hair. “I don’t know about that…”

  “Dude,” I said, weary of a conversation that threatened to drag on. “Step aside and let me in. If you have an issue with me going into the library, radio Con and tell him I needed to call the cops.”

  This information produced the desired effect. “Uh, sure. Go on in.”

  “Thank you.” I slipped inside the library and shut the door.

  The landline phone was on the desk. It was a model I hadn’t seen since the Nineties. I picked up the receiver and punched in Liam’s number. This time, I got through. I didn’t bother with polite preliminaries. “Liam? What did the pathologist say?”

  “Hello, to you too, Maggie.” He sounded tired, like it’d already been a long day.

  I bounced from one foot to the other. “Don’t keep me in suspense. What did the doctor say?”

  “It’s too soon for the toxicology report to be back, but he suspects poisoning.”

  I whistled. “So, we were right.”

  “It sure looks that way,” he said wearily. “I called the caterers to see if any of the glasses from Coco’s party were still unwashed, but no luck. Assuming the toxicology report comes back positive for poison, we need to figure out how it got into Theresa’s system. The pathologist found no track marks on her body. That doesn’t rule out administration by injection one hundred percent, but it makes it less likely.”