by Lotta Smith
“I see. Good work by Harry and Tyson, I guess.” As Rick nodded, footsteps echoed from the stairs. We stopped talking and watched Natalia entering the café.
“Can you make it quick and simple?” Natalia, who didn’t bother with pleasantries or greetings, snapped at Rick. “I don’t want to waste my time for this shenanigan.”
“Of course, I was thinking the same thing,” Rick said, then indicated to the leather upholstered sofa. “Please have a seat.”
“Oookay.” Slightly grimacing, Natalia sat on the sofa.
“I heard you were the whiz kid back in high school.”
“Catherine said that?” Natalia raised her face and furrowed her eyebrows. “Oh, no. We were in a mediocre school, and I was doing slightly better than average. Still, I had a hard time keeping up with other kids at college.”
“So it seems like you, Catherine, and Rita were completely different types. What turned the three of you into best friends?” Rick asked the same question he’d asked Catherine. Trying to trip them up, perhaps?
“What brought us close? I’d say volunteering at a local library. All of us loved mysteries, and we spent most of our supposedly working hours discussing books and critiquing authors as if we were the experts.” Natalia smiled, looking like she was about to let out a giggle.
“And you guys decided to each try your hand at writing original stories, right?” Rick said matter-of-factly, but I had a hard time keeping my straight face as it was news to me. Catherine never mentioned writing stories. When I glanced at Kimmie, she also seemed to be trying her best not to gasp.
Natalia’s shoulders visibly twitched. “Oh, she said that, too? What a blabbermouth.” She let out a small sigh. “Actually, Rita was the one who was writing a story. We often saw her scribbling something on a legal pad at slow times, and one day we twisted her arm into showing her notes, guessing it was some kind of love poem addressed to her secret crush. Rita was reluctant, but she finally let us read her work, which turned out to be a novel. It was no masterpiece, totally lacking catharsis and climax, and I remember us teasing her for that, feeling like God Almighty critics.”
“And you two joined her in writing, right?” Rick asked.
“Well, I’d rather call it trying my hand at writing.” Natalia shrugged. “So, seeing Rita’s work, Catherine said we had to write, too. We started writing but failed miserably. Catherine was good with building characters, but her plotting and sentence structure were below substandard—catastrophic, really. I liked plotting and thinking about the ploy, but my story and characters were so flat and sleepy to the point that I got sick of my own story. So, Catherine and I ended up abandoning the project, and Rita was the only person who wrote it until the end. I still remember how much I respected her for finishing her work instead of permanently leaving it as a work in progress.” Natalia looked past us, as if she were savoring the memory.
“By the way, Natalia, you’re currently based in New Jersey, right? What brought you there from Seattle?” As Rick changed the subject, Natalia fell silent. After a pause, he added. “Did your friends’ presence on the East Coast play a part in your relocation?”
A cynical smile crossed Natalia’s lips. “Well, I had some unpleasant memories back home, and I was compelled to get out of my home state where I grew up, just like Rita. Then again, I was wary of going someplace where I knew no one, so I decided to move close to Rita and Catherine.”
“Just like Rita? What do you mean?”
“Oh, Catherine didn’t tell that? Rita’s parents got a divorce when she was a freshman in high school, and both of them remarried as soon as the divorce was settled. So her home wasn’t really a home, and she was often picked on in school. She wanted a fresh start at a place no one knew her. That’s why she went to New York.”
“I see,” Rick muttered and looked at Kimmie, as if to check Natalia’s story.
“She’s right,” Kimmie said. “Things like our parents’ divorce drove Rita out of our hometown. As soon as her writing took off, she took me under her wing by inviting me to live with her in Manhattan. Rita has never told our parents about her success, so they still don’t know what she has accomplished as Carina Christien.”
“Still? She was proactively revealing herself to the media, wasn’t she?” Rick questioned, puzzled.
“Rita’s Goth fashion has two purposes: one is for representing her brand, and the other is a disguise—to keep her identity as Rita Balman hidden beneath Carina Christien’s façade. With her thick, distinct makeup, plus the colored contacts that are often paired with an eyepatch, Carina has no resemblance to Rita. Look, this is Rita minus the Carina gear.” Kimmie showed her phone screen to Rick. I leaned forward and took a glimpse of the photo on the screen.
“She’s blonde when she’s Rita,” I said, which prompted Kimmie to chuckle.
“Yes, she’s naturally blonde. I often tell her it’s a sacrilege, hiding her beautiful hair from the world.”
On Kimmie’s phone, Rita was displaying a shy smile. The facial features were on the smaller side, and just like Kimmie mentioned, the transition into Carina was quite a makeover. If Rita walked past sans makeup, I would never have recognized her as Carina Christien.
“Do you call that a disguise? Carina looks just like Rita with heavy makeup.” Rick was frowning uncertainly, but he turned to Natalia. “So, can you walk me through what happened on the night of Rita’s fall?”
“Rita was totally hot for her editor, Dylan, you know. On that night, she was having fits over Dylan’s shotgun marriage. Catherine and I were worried, so we went to console her. She was acting somewhat erratic. We left her condo to purchase her favorite sweets and went back. And the next thing we knew, Rita was lying injured on the patio, sporting a red ribbon around her neck.” Natalia’s speech was almost identical to what Catherine had told us.
Rick was listening in a relaxed manner, and as Natalia finished, a corner of his lips quirked up.
“What? Did you find any discrepancies between Catherine’s and my stories?” Snorting like a mean girl from high school, Natalia defiantly crossed her arms.
“No. I found no disagreement with your story compared to Catherine’s.” Rick shook his head. “Thank you for taking time to speak with us. And the next person is Tyson. Will you tell him to come up?” He stood and offered his hand to her, but Natalia kept her arms crossed.
“No, thank you. I’m sick of good-looking guys who play it nice.” She stood up and left.
A while after Natalia had disappeared down the stairs, other footsteps echoed and Tyson, the photographer, emerged into the café. His reluctance for the meeting was palpable as he came in yawning and slouched on the sofa without even saying hello.
“So, what do you want?” Crossing his legs, Tyson glared at Rick.
Knowing Rick, I half expected him to grab the photographer and shake him until he let slip something juicy, but he just shrugged casually. “Hey, I wasn’t expecting to be dragged into this mess.”
Tyson looked a little taken aback, but soon his shoulders relaxed. “Neither was I,” he said, scratching his head. Then he offered the hint of a smile.
“All right, so let’s make it quick. How did you get acquainted with Carina Christien?”
“Well, let me see….” Tyson looked up in the air as if he were replaying his memory. “When Carina’s books took off, her publisher arranged an interview with a relatively huge magazine, and I happened to be the photographer. She loved my work, and after that she often hired me for her official website and social media.”
“Was that the first time Carina sported her Goth-princess style?” Rick interjected.
“Yeah, that’s right. At first, she was there without the funky makeup and Goth-princess getup, looking like the girl next door. You know, her temper’s quite something, going up and down and so on. Just a split second before I clicked my camera, she started sobbing, telling me she couldn’t tolerate her photos spreading across the country. Harry, my assistant, d
id a good job calming her down. He took her to the adjoining room, had a long chat, and then she bounced out of the room, declaring, ‘Right now, I’m reborn as Carina Christien!’ And thus her current style was born. In retrospect, that was one of the smartest marketing plans. Her funky-sick appearance broadened her readership and fan base. Her new style matched her books, making for great publicity.”
“I see. So, as you knew both her styles of being Rita and Carina, she was comfortable working with you in terms of saving her from explaining about her alter ego every time.”
“I guess.” Tyson chuckled.
“Did you have a personal relationship with Carina as well as business?”
“Nah. Everything was business.” The photographer shook his head. “She often hosted post-photo-session dinners at fancy places. Carina had a crush on Harry, my assistant, and I’m guessing that’s why she wanted to dine with us so often. She wasn’t happy when Harry started dating Catherine,” he said sarcastically.
I felt sorry for Carina. If dying from her fall was bad enough, now everyone was gossiping about her allegedly failed romances. Talk about rubbing salt on the wound! Still, Tyson’s comments didn’t make sense, considering Catherine and Natalia said Carina’s crush was Dylan Woodhouse….
“By the way, it looks like the photos on Carina’s official website change on a monthly basis. Did you take them all?” Rick asked.
“Oh, yeah. Her gung-ho fans, the Carinists, are always looking forward to seeing new photos of her, and Carina herself regarded her photos as an important tool in keeping her brand.” Tyson nodded.
“Most of the photos are quite graphic, like the author soaking in a blood bath. Marilyn Manson meets Betsey Johnson,” Rick commented.
“I know. Her branding strategy was lovesick girl going mentally sick. Sometimes her eccentric photos made an Internet frenzy involving the Carinists, trolls and everything. She once mentioned such flaming is a calculated process, and I was like wow! She seemed to be enjoying the attention. No such thing as bad press, I guess.”
“So who drew the outline of her next photos? Carina herself?”
“Yes, she did, linking them with her latest release and sometimes the movies based on her books. Harry usually listened to her and developed detailed concepts.”
“I see.” Rick nodded. “So, just a moment before Carina’s fall, you were talking to her on the phone. Was that conversation about the photo shoot?”
“Of course. Work is the only conversation topic I’ve had with her. I don’t recall talking about anything else,” Tyson said defiantly.
“Why did you call her twice?”
“I forgot to ask her the shooting time, so I called her back to clarify.”
“I see. Can you give me the exact time and date for the agreed photo shoots?”
“What? I don’t remember. If you recall, everything happened a year ago.” While answering Rick’s question, Tyson irritably tapped the floor with the tip of his boot.
“Okay, fine. Thanks for your cooperation. Can you tell your assistant to come up and speak with me?”
“Uh-huh.” Tyson stood up and left the room. Along with his echoing footsteps down the stairs, we heard him say, “Hey, Harry, you’re next. Come up and talk to that guy.”
CHAPTER 6
After Tyson left, I was regurgitating his story, wondering who Carina’s real love interest was. Suppose Tyson was right and she had a crush on Harry; seeing him having a relationship with one of her best friends should have been traumatizing. Still, considering that her crush was just a one-way love, Carina’s pride wouldn’t have allowed her to act out and let Catherine know her true feelings toward Harry. Hmm… perhaps Carina lied to Catherine and Natalia in an attempt to hide her feelings and told them she loved her editor, Dylan Woodhouse. That was possible…. Then again, if Dylan Woodhouse wasn’t Carina’s love interest, that meant Catherine and Natalia were lying.
Then I realized that Rick didn’t seem to ask anything critical about the case. “Hey, Rick, why don’t you grab every suspect and shake them until someone fesses up?”
“Because that’ll spoil the whole fun of hunting the culprit,” he said nonchalantly. Then he remembered the victim’s sister was there. “No offense.” He turned to Kimmie and winked at her.
“None taken,” she replied breathlessly.
Before I had a chance to ask him about the meaning of his wink, Harry sheepishly came inside.
“Hi, Harry. Thanks for taking your time.” Rick stood up and indicated to a chair instead of the sofa that time, sporting a relaxed smile. “Have a seat.”
“Th-thanks.” Harry nervously took a seat. He immediately began fretting, sweat beading on his forehead even though the place wasn’t hot.
“So, I need to ask you some questions about your photo shoots with Carina.”
Harry visibly tensed. “Ph-ph-photo shoots?” he squawked.
“Yes.” Without saying anything else, Rick looked at the photographer’s assistant straight in his face.
Harry gulped. “Which photo shoot?”
“The first time your boss took photos of Carina Christien.”
“Oh… that time?” Harry let out a sigh. I could see he was trying his best to be discreet, but so far, he was failing miserably. He took a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and wiped his sweaty forehead.
“I heard Carina started crying, saying she didn’t want to expose her face, and you took her to have a little chat and successfully consoled her by offering a game-changing plan for her career—to create a whole new Carina Christien.”
“Oh, you’re talking about that time. Ah… memories.” Harry’s tense face broke into a smile.
“Your boss was very impressed with the way you persuaded her into having her photos taken. Would you care to share the trick you used on her with us?”
“The trick? No, nothing like that. I had noticed Carina carrying a Joan of Arc charm from Clone High strapped on her purse, and I mentioned that I was a huge fan of the series. Then she opened up and told me about her love of that series, too.” Harry spoke carefully, and Rick gave occasional nods as if to encourage him to go on.
“As we chatted, I suggested creating a whole new character who had no resemblance to herself as Rita Balman, and she absolutely loved it. I drew some rough sketches of possible Carina Christien’s appearance. Then I took in Carina’s writing style and her tastes, and then the Carina Christien we see today was born.”
“And the photos of Carina Christien on the magazine made quite a riot, right?” Rick interjected.
“Oh, yes. I was glad about the reaction.” Harry flashed a wide grin.
“By the way, I heard you’re dating Carina’s friend, Catherine.” As Rick abruptly changed the subject, Harry turned pink in the ears.
“Yes. It was love at first sight on my part. She’s gorgeous, smart, and such fun to be around.”
“So you approached her, asking her out, perhaps?”
Harry shook his head. “No. Actually, I couldn’t. I thought she’d already be taken, and I couldn’t make a move, but she talked to me often, telling me things like, ‘Hey, Harry, you like me a lot, don’t you?’ At first, I thought she was just playing with me. Then we started going out, and….”
In my opinion, Catherine’s tactics seemed clever but lewd, but observing Harry turning red, I had to admit her strategy actually worked. I took a glance at Rick, picturing myself asking him the same question… and I admired her guts.
“So, on the night of Carina’s fall, Tyson phoned her. You were with him, weren’t you?”
“Um, well… I guess I was with him, but my memory’s a bit hazy. You know, it’s been a long time… but I guess I was with him since I’m always sticking around my boss.” Harry knitted his eyebrows, and he was sweating again.
“Indeed, Tyson called her not just once but twice. Do you know why?”
“That’s because Tyson forgot to ask her the timing for the photo shoot. I remember my boss checking the t
ime with her over the phone. You know, timing is everything with photo shoots. A moment’s lag ruins the whole picture.” Harry sounded more confident that time.
“I see.” A corner of Rick’s lips quirked up like he was enjoying this conversation. “I’ve got it. Thanks. Now can you tell Dylan Woodhouse to come upstairs?”
“I will. Nice talking to you.” Standing up, Harry let out a deep sigh. When he turned on his heels to leave, Rick called to his back, “Harry, just one more question,” prompting him to jump a few inches.
“Excuse me?” Gasping, Harry turned back.
“According to Tyson, Carina had a huge crush on you. Were you aware of that?”
Following Rick’s bold question, Harry’s jaw dropped. “Carina having a crush on me? No way, that’s impossible. Besides, I’ve been told that Carina fancies Dylan, her former editor,” he said in a serious tone.
“I see. Thanks for the info.” Afterward, Harry left, shaking his head like he was truly confused.
The moment Harry was out of earshot, Rick turned to Kimmie. “Harry or Dylan. Who’s your sister’s true love interest? What do you think about that, Kimmie?” he asked in a low voice that was almost a whisper.
Kimmie, who was looking down at the floor, jerked her head up. “Well… I think Rita trusted Harry as a good partner, but I have a hunch Dylan was the man she truly cared for,” she said hesitantly.
“Don’t you talk about each other’s love lives?” Rick asked.
“Rita would get bashful when discussing romantic topics. Whenever I asked her things like, ‘Met any cute guys?’ she would blush and say something like, ‘Come on, stop interrogating me!’ and dodge my questions.”
“That’s interesting.” As Rick chuckled, Dylan Woodhouse entered the café.
“Hi,” he said and took a seat across the table from Rick. “Rick, I’m sorry about this mess.”
“No need for an apology. I’m blaming my old man.” Rick shrugged. “Still, considering no one’s gotten shot by now, I’d call this evening rather peaceful.”
“Oh….” Displaying a polite but confused smile, Dylan Woodhouse let out something between a groan and an agreement.