by K. M. Morgan
“Stop it. Just—stop,” Candy pleaded.
Candy was cracking under the pressure.
Daisy saw a mixture of pain and simmering rage in her eyes. She couldn’t afford to let up now. She was on to something. She could feel it.
“Why, is this hitting all too close to home?” Daisy asked.
“No. You don’t understand. I loved him,” Candy sighed.
“Oh, I understand. We all know what can happen when love goes bad. When a woman gets wronged—and has a motive to kill,” Daisy insisted.
“Just because I wanted to him dead, doesn’t mean I did it. Everyone on this set has wished him ill at one time or another. But wanting to kill him for a brief moment and actually doing it are completely different things.”
“You know, if you say something like that in a courtroom, they’d put you in jail and throw away the key.”
“You can accuse me of whatever you want. The fact is, I didn’t kill him,” Candy said.
“Do you really expect me to believe that?” Daisy asked.
“Look into my eyes. I’m telling the truth.”
Daisy did just that. No suspect had ever invited her to look into their eyes. Usually the murder suspects she questioned all averted eye contact as much as they could.
Surprisingly, Daisy saw no shiftiness this time. Daisy expected to see guilt when she looked into Candy’s eyes, but her gut instinct didn’t point one way or the other.
Despite the most guilt-ridden, motive-filled conversation Daisy had experienced since investigating this murder, she was starting to believe that may Candy could actually be innocent. What a surprise.
Now what was she supposed to do? Daisy decided to put the ball in Candy’s court.
“Alright. If you didn’t kill Hunter, then who did it?”
Candy didn’t hesitate with her answer. “Ainsley Adamson.”
“What makes you so sure of that?” Daisy asked.
“The only thing worse than being the second banana is to spend your whole life always being on top, only to have the rug pulled out from under you one day. Not everyone can recover from a fall from grace like that. You saw how freaked out Ainsley got when she realized Hunter was cheating on her with me. The proof is in the pudding. That was a woman with motive. I may be dumb, but even I can see that,” Candy explained.
The new director Logan Lark then came over and interrupted their conversation. “Rehearsal in two minutes.”
“Alright, I’m coming,” Candy said.
Candy then got up and walked away, leaving Daisy with nothing but her thoughts—and hunger. If there ever was a time for a croissant break, it was then.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Before Daisy had a chance to grab a bite of a buttery flaky croissant, the new director Logan Lark stopped her.
“Daisy—a word please,” Logan said.
Speaking of runner ups, Logan knew all too well what it was like to be second best himself. He had that in common with Candy.
The more Daisy thought about the case, the more she realized almost all of the suspects fit into one of two categories—they had either spent most of their lives on top and wanted to stay there, or they’d been second banana for far too long and were desperate to claw their way to the top. She couldn’t help but feel that fact was significant in some way. She just couldn’t piece together why quite yet.
As Daisy looked into Logan’s eyes, she saw nothing but annoyance. She braced herself for a rocky conversation.
Daisy tried to break the tension with a joke. “You look like you could use a croissant.”
Logan didn’t even crack a smile. “How is the decorating coming?”
Daisy was worried this moment would come. With all the sleuthing she was doing, she wasn’t able to put as much effort into her set decorating duties. So far, no one had noticed—until now.
With Logan on her case however, Daisy could find herself in a pickle. She was still hot on the trail of the killer, but all her efforts could be stymied if Logan decided to remove her from the set. Unfortunately as the director, he had the power to do just that.
If Daisy suddenly didn’t have direct access to the set—not to mention the cast and crew—it would throw a huge wrench into cracking the case. Daisy had to tiptoe around Logan, all the while not taking her eyes off the fact that he could be the killer himself. It would be a delicate balancing act.
“I’m just about to get back to it,” Daisy said.
That wasn’t good enough for Logan. “I think it would be best if you skip that croissant you were planning to have and get straight to work,” Logan replied.
Her taste buds disagreed, but by the look in Logan’s eyes, she could tell he wasn’t making a suggestion rather giving her an order.
Daisy slapped on a fake smile. “Ok.”
“Oh, and in the future, stay out of people’s business,” Logan warned.
Where did that come from? There was no way Daisy could let a remark like that just slide by the wayside.
“Excuse me?” Daisy replied.
“You don’t think I’m on to you, coming over here and trying to stir up trouble with Candy?” Logan asked.
The accusations were flying now. Why did he care so much that Daisy was digging for dirt when it came to Candy? Unless he was worried that Daisy would try to shake him down for clues next. Did Logan have something to hide? Now Daisy was more eager to find out than ever.
“Stir up trouble? Candy and I were just having a little conversation.”
“A contentious conversation you mean? Daisy, who do you think you’re fooling? I’ve seen you snooping around.”
Logan wasn’t holding back. As she looked into his eyes, she realized this had nothing to do with Candy. It was about him.
Daisy’s hunch was right. Logan was clearly worried Daisy would dig up dirt on him next.
Daisy stood her ground while being careful not to say anything that would get her thrown off the set. “A man was murdered and the killer is still at large. If anything, we should all be on the lookout for leads.”
Logan disagreed. “It is the police’s job to find out who the killer is. You’re getting paid to decorate the set.”
It seemed completely irrational how confrontational Logan was being. Unless he had something to hide.
“What’s the matter, are you afraid of what I will turn up?” Daisy asked.
Anger filled Logan’s eyes. He issued a threat. “You know, I could throw you off of this set if I wanted to.”
Daisy kept her cool. “Except, that would only point the suspicion to you. If you have nothing to hide, you have no reason to be upset with me doing a little digging.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. The reason I’m upset has nothing to do with the case. It has to do with the fact that you aren’t doing your job.”
Logan was lying. Daisy could see it in his eyes.
“You could see how the police might believe otherwise,” Daisy replied.
Logan stared her down. “Get back to work while you still have a job to get back to.”
Wow. Daisy had taken this conversation as far as it could go without hard evidence or a murder confession to back up her suspicions. She decided to move to the set and get back to decorating while she plotted her next move.
Still, she couldn’t help but feel that Logan was acting awfully suspicious for a man who acted like he had nothing to hide.
Then Daisy’s mind briefly turned elsewhere. Unfortunately due to Logan’s orders, Daisy wasn’t able to grab a croissant. Luckily, she had a chocolate chip muffin in her purse that she gobbled up the first chance she got.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Daisy got plenty of work done that morning, just not on the case. By lunchtime, her decorating duties on the set were nearly complete however. She had restored the sets to their original folksy décor and managed to add a few little quaint touches of her own. She was very proud of her work.
When principal photography began, the sets would be so
convincing that an audience would never be able to tell that the movie wasn’t filmed at an actual bed and breakfast. At the same time, with Daisy’s decorating work practically done, that meant her time on the set would be over soon as well.
If she couldn’t find the murderer soon, she’d have to do her sleuthing off the set. What she really needed now was a hot lead. She knew just where to start.
Two potential suspects had been awfully quiet all morning. Lead actor Ethan Crabtree was one, and screenwriter Isabel Foster was the other. Since Isabel was already sitting down to eat her lunch at one of the tables while the cast was finishing up morning rehearsals, Daisy decided to approach her first.
Isabel was flipping through the shooting script as she dug into her food.
Once again, Daisy started getting a hunch that the noir script rewrite Hunter was working on just before he was killed could be the lynchpin to solving this case. She was about to investigate that hunch before being sidetracked by the Ainsley Adamson/Candy Caldwell beauty pageant rivalry.
It was time for Daisy to follow her instinct. If the script revision was as big a deal as Daisy thought it was, that pointed the suspicion at one person above all others—Isabel.
“Working on your writing?” Daisy asked.
“No. I’m just keeping tabs on the changes that are being made to my words—again,” Isabel muttered.
Isabel didn’t even bother hiding her frustration. This was playing right into Daisy’s hands.
“That’s really got to burn you, doesn’t it?” Daisy asked.
Isabel had fire in her eyes. “You don’t even know.”
It was time to turn the emotional heat up. “Still, these script changes can’t be as bad as the changes Hunter was making. It seemed like he was planning on throwing your entire script out and rewriting from page one.”
That got Isabel riled up. Daisy figured if she pressed Isabel’s buttons just right, maybe Isabel would let something slip out.
Instead, all Daisy saw was Isabel seething.
“What are you trying to pull here? Are you trying to get a rise out of me? I’m already on edge enough as it is,” Isabel admitted.
Daisy pressed further. “No. I’m just saying it’s such a shame there’s nothing you can do about any of this rewriting.”
“Yeah there is.”
Daisy felt like she was on the verge of a breakthrough. Isabel had a crazed look in her eyes. Was she about to get a confession out of her? Was this going to be the turning point in the case?
“What?” Daisy asked.
Isabel gave a completely different answer than Daisy was expecting.
“I’m going to be talking to my father later about this and see if I can put an end to all these changes once and for all,” Isabel revealed.
What a strange time for Isabel to start acting rationally. Isabel had erupted like an emotionally unstable volcano with the slightest mention of a script change before. Yet now, saner heads seemed to prevail.
Did that mean she was innocent? Daisy wasn’t sure. Although Isabel’s answer reminded Daisy of another suspect that managed to slip under the radar recently—David Foster.
With everything that was happening on the set, Isabel’s father managed to just fade into the background. He hadn’t even shown up to the warehouse today. Instead he went straight to his wealth management company. Maybe he figured if he could just stay out of view long enough, he’d become a forgotten suspect.
Daisy would get back to David Foster later however. Right now there was more investigating to do with Isabel.
Daisy pressed on. “There’s no one better to have in your corner than your dad.”
Isabel scoffed. “That’s funny?”
Daisy was confused. “What?”
“You obviously don’t know my father. He’s never in my corner. I’m always way down on the totem pole in his eyes,” Isabel revealed.
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what it feels like to constantly be runner up to your sister.”
“Step-sister,” Isabel corrected. “And Fiona is a runner up herself. The fact is, money always comes first to my father. Everything else is a distant second.”
“How awful.”
“My father doesn’t know any better. He’s used to getting what he wants. The idea of being second best is completely foreign to him. That’s actually one of the reasons I decided to write this script,” Isabel explained.
Daisy was confused. “What do you mean?”
“I wanted to show him what life was like for the rest of us. What it’s like to be ignored. To constantly be a runner up. And how that frustration can build up over time and finally explode if you’re not careful,” Isabel continued.
Daisy must have been reading a different script than Isabel, because all she got out of it was a light mystery with some quirky jokes. “Wait a minute. You’re still talking about ‘Nothing Bundt Homicide,’ right?”
“Don’t let the jokes fool you. There’s some pretty serious metaphors there. The question is, will my dad get the message?”
“I’m not so sure he will. Have you considered just telling your father how you feel?” Daisy asked.
“I’m much more comfortable letting my script do the talking for me. I’m a big proponent of using my art to imitate life.”
“It’s pretty ironic you said that, given that with Hunter’s murder, it was life that imitated art,” Daisy argued.
Isabel could talk about art and metaphors all she wanted to. Daisy had a murder case to solve. She’d pressed Isabel as far as she could without a confession. Maybe now she’d finally get one.
Then something unexpected happened. Daisy saw something different when she looked into Isabel’s eyes this time. There was no anger or murderous rage.
Instead all Daisy saw was sadness. Until that point, Daisy thought that Isabel always appeared to be more on the guilty side than the innocent side. But now in her gut, Daisy knew Isabel wasn’t the killer.
“Of all the times for life to imitate art, why did it have to be this one? Why couldn’t one of the romantic comedies I’ve written come true?” Isabel bemoaned.
Daisy meanwhile couldn’t get one phrase out of her head. It kept repeating over and over. It was amazing how certain ideas or phrases could get Daisy’s imagination going on overdrive. This was one of those moments.
All of a sudden, things just clicked inside her head.
Everything became clear.
It dawned on Daisy who the killer was.
She couldn’t believe it. The answer had been right in front of her this whole time. Suddenly, Daisy didn’t have any time to waste. She had to act fast.
Chapter Thirty-Four
With the murderer clear in Daisy’s mind finally, it was time to expose her. So when Fiona Foster returned to the rehearsal space, Daisy stood alone waiting for her. In Daisy’s right hand was a frying pan, which she held up for Fiona.
“Does this look familiar to you?” Daisy asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would a frying pan look familiar to me?” Fiona replied.
“Because, that’s exactly what you used to murder Hunter Hayworth,” Daisy declared.
Fiona played dumb. “You’re crazy.”
“Am I? It’s amazing how life imitates art sometimes, isn’t it?”
“I don’t have to listen to this,” Fiona insisted.
“You know, it seemed too obvious to be true at first. Your role was to play a character who murdered a man by hitting them in the back of the head with a frying pan. Then, lo and behold, you went and did it in real life too.”
Fiona became defiant as her eyes smoldered with rage. “You can’t prove anything.”
“Oh really? You had the means, the opportunity, and one killer motive. For years you spent all that time in Los Angeles going on auditions, getting rejections, never once landing the role you wanted--the role you believe you deserved. It’s tough being a second banana. You get tired of it. You started to believe yo
u’d never get your chance. Then this movie came along. The stars would never be more aligned. Your own father was producing the thing, surely you’d get the lead role. And if your boyfriend Logan had been chosen as the director in the first place, you would have gotten the lead. But your father didn’t want to turn the reins of his fifty-thousand dollar investment to a man who got passed over for a directing gig by Marty’s Mattress Mart. Instead your father went with Hunter--someone who had experience, who had a film degree, and who had a lead actress of his own in mind. When Hunter chose Candy to be the lead actress in the film just because he was sleeping with her, it burned you. You deserved that lead role. You were the better actress. Your chance at stardom was slipping away. And it was all taken from you—by Hunter. So you decided to take matters into your own hands. More specifically, you took a frying pan into your own hands,” Daisy revealed.
As Daisy looked into Fiona’s eyes, she knew she was spot on. There was no doubt in Daisy’s mind that Fiona was the killer.
Fiona hated to be called out. She wasn’t just going to accept being outed. Instead, she erupted with rage.
“I worked so hard for this role. I earned the lead. And now that I finally have it, I’m not going to let you take it away from me. I killed Hunter, and if I have to, I’ll kill you too,” Fiona barked.
Fiona then grabbed for the frying pan and tried to wrestle it away from Daisy.
A struggle ensued.
Finally, Fiona snatched the frying pan from Daisy.
Just then, Detective Crumple and two of his deputies rushed into the warehouse with guns drawn. “Put your hands up Fiona.”
Daisy breathed a sigh of relief.
Fiona saw the deputies ready to fire at her if she resisted arrest.
It was then she realized the jig was up.
She dropped the frying pan and put her hands up.
The rest of the cast and crew meanwhile got up from their lunch tables and ran to where the commotion was. Their jaws dropped as they watched the scene.
Logan Lark however approached the rehearsal space just staring at his girlfriend in disbelief. “Fiona? No. Why?” he stammered.