Murder in Wax

by Holly Copella

  Dorothy nodded. “Chelsea’s waiting for me at Dr. Sherman’s office,” she announced. “Gina was good enough to keep an eye on her for me while I took care of Jamie’s final arrangements.”

  Tony offered a pleasant smile and escorted her to the front door. He shut the door then glanced into the left, front parlor and saw his friends. He entered the parlor and closed the double, sliding doors behind him, allowing them some privacy in case someone else showed up unexpectedly. All three were silent while staring at their friend.

  “Sorry I’m running a little late for lunch,” Tony informed them while nervously running his fingers through his hair. “Prepping Jamie isn’t going to be easy. It’s been a while since I’ve had a client younger than me. And considering the circumstances--”

  Tony hesitated and didn’t finish the thought although they knew what he wanted to say. Prepping someone who’d been brutally murdered couldn’t be easy, particularly someone so young, and from their small town where everyone knew everyone else.

  “Emotionally, I’m wiped out,” Tony announced gently while fidgeting.

  “Take your time,” Ross announced, possibly being serious for the first time in his life. “It’s been a difficult couple of days for all of us.”

  Tony eyed Martin and seemed a little surprised to see him. “Didn’t expect to see you here, Martin,” Tony remarked and offered a tiny smile. “I thought you were allergic to funeral homes?”

  “I avoid them when I can,” he replied then tensed. “After yesterday, I didn’t think I should leave Devon alone.”

  “It was nice of Brant to give us the day off,” Devon remarked.

  “I think he was pretty shaken himself,” Ross informed her.

  “When I went to the morgue to pick up the, uh, Jamie’s remains, Sheriff Carter was there. He shared some news about the murder,” Tony announced, fumbling for something to say.

  All three suddenly perked up, giving him their full attention.

  “What did he say?” Devon asked.

  “Jamie was killed Friday evening sometime between six-thirty and nine at night,” Tony informed them. “According to Marlene, Jamie received a phone call at the diner from some man, and she left in a hurry. Marlene suspected it may have been Burt Danson, the producer. Dorothy said Jamie came home, changed into a slinky dress, and left without a word a little after six-thirty. She assumed she was going to meet some friends at a dance club at the resort area. When she didn’t come home that night, Dorothy didn’t think much of it.”

  “Jamie applied for the same acting job as Ivy had,” Devon reminded them. “Maybe Burt had something to do with her murder.”

  “Sheriff Carter was on his way to the resorts to question Burt Danson,” Tony replied then hesitated and looked around. “Where’s Ivy? She’d be interested to hear this.”

  “Late as usual,” Ross remarked.

  “Tamara also auditioned for the acting job,” Devon informed them. “Even though we don’t really know anything for sure, we should warn her about Burt as well. Just in case.”

  “Paula too,” Ross interjected.

  “Screw Paula,” Devon scoffed.

  “That’s an interesting theory about this Burt guy,” Martin announced and seemed curious. “I mean, if she was going to meet him, it’s pretty clear he was somehow involved.”

  “Better than Carter’s original theory,” Ross interjected and raised his brows. “He was working the jilted lover theory. Honestly, I don’t think Karl was too broken up over Jamie dumping him.”

  “I heard they haven’t been able to find Karl to question him,” Martin added then eyed Ross. “I don’t think you should discount him so quickly. Maybe he’ll give a confession to her murder, and it’ll be over with.” He then considered something else. “What about your boss, Brant? He could’ve killed Jamie and still made it in time for his parents’ dinner party. If there really was a party.”

  Devon and Ross both glared at Martin.

  “Brant wouldn’t harm a fly,” Devon insisted.

  “Not according to what you’d told me the other day,” Martin scoffed.

  Ross turned his head and stared at her demandingly. “What happened the other day?”

  “After Paula made a pass at him in the bar, he trashed the workshop,” Martin informed Ross. “Devon saw him butcher a wax woman.”

  “He was just venting,” she insisted. “Besides, he’d never even met Jamie.”

  “That you know,” Martin remarked. “Jamie could have stopped by to visit Karl at the museum. The construction company was working there for months.”

  “If Brant were a killer, he’d have whacked Tyler by now,” Ross informed Martin.

  “I don’t trust that man,” Martin remarked while shaking his head. “Sexual frustration can motivate a man to kill a woman.”

  “Hey, I’m sexually frustrated, and I’ve never thought about killing women,” Ross boldly announced.

  “Excluding Martin, I’d say we’re all pretty much sexually frustrated,” Tony teased with a slightly embarrassed laugh.

  “I’m not sexually frustrated,” Devon corrected.

  “No, you’re just sexually frigid,” Ross announced while chuckling.

  Martin glared at Ross.

  Ross caught his glare then fidgeted. “I was just kidding.” He glanced at his watch and attempted to change the subject. “Where the hell is Ivy?”

  §

  Ivy’s jeep pulled up to the old farmhouse in the middle of the vast farmland around quarter after twelve. She uncertainly got out of the jeep and stared at the creepy, abandoned building while clutching her large handbag securely against her side.

  “Is this some sort of joke?” she remarked under her breath while staring at the old farmhouse. “Why would he want to meet here?”

  She strummed her fingers on the car door, drew a deep breath, and then shut the door with determination. She straightened proudly, smoothed her form-fitting, flattering dress, and approached the house. She stepped onto the porch and nearly changed her mind when the floorboard creaked beneath her. She forced herself to approach the already partially open door and pushed it open the rest of the way. She peered into the creepy hallway and looked around.

  “Burt?” she called out while scanning the area and clutching her large bag.

  When there was no response, she looked back at her jeep and again considered leaving. She groaned and removed a small tube of mace from her bag before entering the house. She nervously closed the door behind her and again stared at the dilapidated interior. She took several steps into the hall then peered into the sitting room on the left. There were several pieces of old furniture, but not a living soul. She approached the sliding doors on the right and attempted to open them. They didn’t budge.

  “Burt?” she again called out.

  When there was no response, she shook her head and turned back to the front door. There was a loud creak from upstairs. Ivy paused and looked up the half-rotted steps and insecurely clung to her shoulder bag in one hand and the mace in the other. She drew a deep breath and approached the stairs. Within the dust, she could see fresh shoe prints, obviously from a man, heading up and down the steps. Ivy hesitated then nervously walked up the rickety steps, careful to mind the rotted boards. She reached the top while keeping her mace aimed and her finger on the button. She scanned the open bedroom doors to the right side of the hall. A shadow moved within one of the rooms.

  “Burt?” she announced while trembling and waited for him to respond.

  When there still wasn’t a response, she slowly headed toward the bedroom and peered inside. Her brows immediately knitted with a curious look. She hurried into the room, disappearing inside. A second passed. Ivy suddenly cried out.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  The police cruiser pulled behind Tamara’s stranded car a little after noon. Sheriff Carter and Deputy Havens got out and approached the abandoned car. They separated and walked on either side of the car. Deputy Havens was forced to
walk on the bank partway then had to return to the back of the car. He approached Sheriff Carter as he stood by the driver’s side. Carter opened the car door, peered inside, but found nothing. He then straightened and looked around the back road.

  “Guess she ran off the road,” Deputy Havens remarked while indicating the condition of the car. “With all the downed branches and puddles, I’m not surprised.”

  “Yeah, it would look that way,” Sheriff Carter replied, although his expression conveyed he wasn’t completely satisfied. “Her mother said she called the hotel this morning, but Tamara didn’t report for her shift. She suddenly doesn’t show up for work after her car breaks down?” The sheriff shook his head. “I find that a little hard to swallow.” He eyed his deputy. “I’ll drop you off in town, so you can start asking questions. See if anyone’s seen her. I need to get to the resort and track down Burt Danson.”

  Deputy Havens peeked inside the car. “I don’t see a purse or car keys,” he remarked then straightened with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “It’s still possible she was picked up by a friend.”

  “Then let’s check with all her friends,” Sheriff Carter announced. “There’s something strange happening in my town. If some psycho has his sights on young women in this town, he’s going to meet the business end of my Magnum.”

  §

  Devon and Ross walked along the sidewalk in town after their shortened lunch with Tony, who had too much work to do. It was a beautiful day, although the town seemed quieter than usual. It was obvious the residents were concerned over what had happened in their sleepy, little town. There were several other residents enjoying a walk through town on the bright, sunny day, but there was limited conversation among them.

  “I’m glad Martin was called away after lunch. I have to watch everything I say to you,” Ross remarked. “You’d think with all the women he’s bedded, he’d be a little more open-minded.”

  “I think it’s guys like him he’s trying to protect me from,” Devon teased.

  They paused on the sidewalk outside the bank where Ivy worked. Devon stared at the building while deep in thought then looked at Ross.

  “I’m going to find out why Ivy stood us up for lunch,” Devon informed him. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  “I’ll time you,” Ross announced and gleefully set his watch.

  Devon smiled at the challenge and hurried inside. Not surprising, the bank was nearly empty as it usually was around lunchtime. There were only two tellers working and only one customer at the counter. Devon approached the vacant teller.

  “Hello, Devon,” the young woman announced cheerfully. “If you’re looking for Ivy, she left for the afternoon.”

  Devon stared at her with surprise and immediately felt anxious. “She has?” she questioned with surprise. “Did something happen?”

  “No,” the teller replied. “She received a phone call and had to leave early.”

  “Was it her mother?”

  “No, it was a guy.”

  The words chilled her. “Thanks,” Devon announced although she was concerned by the revelation. “I’ll check her house to make sure everything’s all right.”

  Devon hurried from the bank as her heart pounded and her anxiety rose. She approached Ross on the sidewalk and stopped before him.

  He stopped the counter on his watch and grinned. “Under a minute. A new record.”

  Devon grabbed his arm without comment and dragged him along the sidewalk.

  “Owe, that hurts,” he whined and attempted to pull his arm free. “What’s the hurry?”

  “Ivy left work early,” Devon announced and shook her head with concern. “I have a bad feeling she’s doing something stupid.”

  “So? Why is it she does something stupid, and I’m the one getting his arm twisted off?” Ross demanded. “How’s that fair?” He attempted to stop her, but she continued to pull him along.

  “She left after receiving a phone call from a man,” she remarked without slowing her pace as they headed for Ross’ car.

  “Just like Jamie?” Ross nearly gasped.

  “We’ll stop by her house and see if she’s there,” Devon announced. “If not, maybe her mother knows where she went and who she was meeting.”

  “You think she intended to meet Burt Danson?” Ross cried out softly. “Jamie was possibly meeting him when she was--”

  “I know,” Devon announced. “So we should hurry.”

  §

  Ross’ old mustang was more Bondo than car anymore. The engine sounded as if it had actual horses running through it. The part black, Bondo red, and baby shit green car pulled up to Ivy’s house. The beast came to a grinding stop and rattled before shutting down. The doors creaked, sounding like fingernails on a chalkboard when they opened. Ross and Devon jumped from the car and hurried up the steps to the quiet, little house. Devon knocked on the door with urgency. Ivy’s mother, Candice, opened the door and stared at them with some surprise. Perhaps it was the loud car that startled her.

  “Devon, I didn’t expect to see you today,” she announced then turned sympathetic, having heard about her ordeal. “How are you feeling, dear?”

  “I’m fine, Mrs. Jennings,” she announced although she was preoccupied with more important concerns. “Is Ivy home?”

  “No, she’s not,” Candice announced with little concern. “She came home, changed, and then left maybe half an hour ago.”

  “Did she say where she was going?” Devon immediately chimed in.

  Candice stared at Devon, obviously surprised by the urgency in her tone. “No, but by the way she was dressed, I assumed she was meeting a guy.” She eyed both. “Is something wrong?”

  Devon and Ross exchanged concerned looks then returned their attention to Ivy’s mother.

  “I don’t want to alarm you,” Devon announced while fidgeting, “but we need to find Ivy. Did she say anything at all about her phone call? It’s important we know where she went.”

  “What’s this about?” Candice nearly gasped alarmed by Devon’s concern.

  “The night Jamie was murdered, she got a phone call at the diner believed to be from Burt Danson,” Devon explained.

  “Or someone pretending to be Burt Danson,” Ross added.

  “We think someone may have lured Jamie to her death with that phone call,” Devon informed her as delicately as possible. “When they told us at the bank Ivy received a phone call from a man and took off--”

  “We really need to find her,” Ross interjected.

  Candice placed her hand over her mouth while staring at them. She immediately replayed in her mind her last conversation with Ivy.

  “She said something about having to meet someone,” Candice fumbled over her own thoughts. “I think, uh, I think she may have mentioned a farmhouse. It was an old farmhouse because she said something about how she thought it had been torn down.”

  Ross and Devon exchanged looks and immediately came to the same conclusion.

  “Baxter’s old farm!”

  “Miller’s farm!”

  They stared at each other with surprise. Candice appeared horrified.

  “We’ll take two cars and split up,” Candice announced then darted back inside to snatch her car keys.

  She returned to the porch only a second later then hurried Devon and Ross into the driveway. Ross indicated Candice to Devon.

  “You go with Mrs. Jennings to Baxter’s old farm,” he announced. “I’ll check out Miller’s farm.”

  Devon nodded and climbed into Candice’s car. Ross jumped into his beast and turned the key. The engine grinded, revved, sputtered, and then thumped before shutting off. Steam came from the hood. Ross jumped out of his car and ran for Candice’s car, jumping into the back seat.

  “Change of plans,” he announced. “We’ll go together. Safety in numbers.”

  “Piece of shit car,” Devon scoffed.

  “Hey, that’s a classic car,” Ross protested. “It just needs a little love.” He then frowned
. “But we don’t have time for that much love.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Mrs. Jennings pressed her foot on the accelerator and drove at high speeds along the back road. Devon clung to the passenger side door while Ross tumbled across the back seat. Ross pulled himself back into a sitting position and clung to the front seats.

  “Does anyone even know where we’re going?” Ross asked.

  Mrs. Jennings didn’t respond. She suddenly screamed and swerved to miss a squirrel in the road. Ross tumbled across the back seat once more.

  “Wait,” Devon cried out. “What’s that road?”

  Mrs. Jennings slammed on the brakes, and the car slid to a grinding halt. Ross flew into the front seats then struck the back seat.

  “I was safer on the floor,” he muttered while rubbing his sore neck.

  An old, overgrown dirt road was seen beyond an open cattle gate. All three stared out the side window. It was possibly the first time anyone had seen the old, rusted gate open.

  “That’s the old Farley farm,” Ivy’s mother announced. “I’d forgotten it existed.”

  “It went up for auction last month, didn’t it?” Devon asked.

  “So?” Ross demanded.

  “That gate's been closed forever,” Devon explained. “Now it’s open. Let’s have a look that way.”

  The car shot backward and then spun onto the dirt road. Dirt flew behind the car as it jetted down the bumpy road. Ross peeked up unsteadily from the floor of the back seat. Devon glanced at Mrs. Jennings with alarm.

  “Could you slow down?” Devon asked. “The element of surprise has a certain charm.”

  Mrs. Jennings immediately slowed down and attempted to calm herself.

  §

  Ivy’s jeep was parked before the old farmhouse, but there was no sign of Ivy. Mrs. Jennings’ car pulled alongside the jeep. The car no sooner stopped when Candice sprang from the driver’s seat and ran for her daughter’s jeep. Devon and Ross chased after her. They looked inside the jeep through the open windows then straightened and looked toward the old farmhouse. Devon hurried to the old house and ran onto the partially rotted porch. Candice attempted to follow, but Ross caught her arm and stopped her.