If It's Not One Thing, It's a Murder

by Liz Wolfe

  Yes. More than anything.

  I walked back to the set and handed the camera back to him. He checked it and grinned. “Okay, we’re done here.”

  The models scampered off the seamless. No doubt they were relieved to get away. Benjamin walked across the huge studio without sparing me a glance. “Roll up the seamless and come into my office.”

  It took me a minute to figure out how the roll of seamless worked, but I finally got it rolled up, only to find three other layers of seamless beneath it. I put them all away, straightened my jacket, and followed him to the office.

  “You want a drink?” He poured bourbon in a glass and replaced the bottle in his drawer.

  “No, thank you.”

  “Did you get the seamless rolled up?”

  “Yes. All four layers of it.”

  “You did okay with loading the film, too. And you can take orders. That’s an important part of being an assistant.”

  “What if I’d put the film in wrong? Or exposed the roll that was in the camera?” His photos would have been useless.

  “Oh, I was already through shooting. It was just a test.”

  Great. At least I’d passed.

  “So, you take any photos yourself?”

  “Photography has been a hobby for me for years.”

  “You got anything to show me?” He lit a cigarette and waited while I pulled out a large manila envelope. He took the envelope, pulled out the photos, and grimaced. “Amateur stuff.” He shrugged and handed the envelope back to me.

  “I didn’t know you wanted a photographer. I thought you were looking for an assistant.”

  He laughed and took a drag on his cigarette. “I am. You’re older than most of my assistants.”

  “Is that a problem for you?”

  “Hell, I don’t know. Maybe you won’t go all googly-eyed at the models. Be here Wednesday morning at seven. I have a big shoot so don’t be late. If you’re late, you’re fired.”

  “I’ll be here.” I was surprised I could even speak. Benjamin Steinhart was offering me a job. A grunt job. But still.

  “Hope you’re stronger than you look. This isn’t an easy job.”

  “I’m not an easy woman. See you on Wednesday.”

  “Wait a minute.”

  Damn. I should have kept my mouth shut. But he was such a jerk.

  “Here.” He opened a drawer and pulled out some CDs. “If you like photography, you might like these. Bring them back when you come to work.”

  I looked at the discs. Photo software. Great. Now I needed a computer. No problem. I could handle this. I tucked the discs in my briefcase and waved at Steinhart, who had picked up his phone, which I took as a dismissal. I drove across town thinking that I’d better be familiar with the software he’d given me by Wednesday. Just in case this was another test.

  I walked into the Best Buy store and wound my way through the software displays and the games to the area with the computers. I was totally out of my element. I probably should have just loaded the software onto Sheridan’s computer. But I wanted my own, and I was going to buy one. I just had no idea which computer to buy. My cell phone chirped and I pulled it out of my bag.

  “Hello?”

  “Skye. How did the interview go?”

  I melted a little at the sound of Max’s voice. “It was horrible, but I got the job.”

  “Great. Don’t let Ben intimidate you.”

  “Too late.”

  Max laughed. “Where are you?”

  “At Best Buy. I need a computer but I have no idea what to buy. Should I get a laptop or one that sits on a desk? Damn, I need a desk, too.”

  “Skye. Don’t move. And don’t buy anything. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “Okay. I’ll just look around.”

  “Just don’t buy anything.”

  I walked around the store while I waited for Max. It was amazing what was available. I looked at the software displays for a while, then meandered over to the computers again. There was a really darling little laptop I liked. I was playing with the display model when Max found me.

  “You don’t want that one.”

  “Why not? It’s pretty.”

  “Doesn’t have enough power.”

  “So, what do I want?”

  Max took my hand and pulled me over to another laptop. This one was bigger. The screen was larger, and I figured that would be good. Especially for photographs.

  “This one is better. Better processor, better software, better operating system. And it’s got a wireless network card. That’s nice.”

  Whatever. It was a shiny gunmetal blue, which I liked, and came with a nice carrying case. I paid for the computer and Max followed me home. I still didn’t have a desk so Max set the laptop on the dining table and fiddled with it while I made a pot of coffee.

  “Do you want some dinner?”

  “No, thanks. I have a dinner date in a couple of hours.”

  A dinner date? He must mean one of his writing friends or an editor or something.

  “Oh, who with?”

  “Sandra.” He finished loading the software Ben had given me. “There, you’re all set.”

  “Sandra? Did I meet her at your party?” I was trying to not sound like a jealous girlfriend. From the look on Max’s face, I was failing.

  “No. She’s just a girl I go out with occasionally.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Skye, I never said we were exclusive.”

  “You and me or you and Sandra?”

  “Either. I’m seeing several women right now, and I’m up front with all of them. Is that a problem for you?”

  Was it? If it was, I didn’t want to tell him that. “I just like to know where I stand.”

  Max walked over and put his arms around me, kissing my temple. “Well, you stand just fine. But I’m not in the market for an exclusive relationship. Not right now, anyway. That could always change.”

  “Good. I’m not, either.”

  Max glanced at his watch. “I need to run. Call me if you have any problems with the computer.”

  “Sure. Thanks for the help.”

  He kissed me, on the lips this time, and left. I dumped my coffee, splashed some wine into a glass, and called Bobbi Jo.

  “Hey, Skye, what’s up? I thought you might be seeing Max again tonight.”

  “Max has a date tonight.”

  “The bastard!”

  “No, not really. He was very up front about it. He sees several women, I guess. Said he isn’t looking for an exclusive relationship right now.”

  “Bastard.”

  “I don’t know. I mean, am I ready for an exclusive relationship?”

  “What do you mean?” Bobbi Jo asked.

  “I’m just out of a long marriage. I haven’t dated since high school. Maybe I don’t need to get into an exclusive relationship right away.”

  “That’s a thought. So you’re going to take over my Man-a-Week plan?”

  “I don’t think I’m ready for that, either.”

  “You should ask Detective Madison out. He’s really cute. And I think he has the hots for you.”

  “Bobbi Jo! He doesn’t have the hots for me. Oh, I forgot to tell you. I got the job with Benjamin Steinhart.”

  “That’s great. When do you start?”

  “Wednesday. I don’t know how long I’ll last. I think he goes through assistants like tissues.”

  “You’ll do fine. Before long you’ll be taking pictures yourself. It’ll be a great career. You’ll end up famous.”

  I laughed. Bobbi Jo was nothing if not supportive of her friends.

  “You know, you could do me a favor. Call Detective Madison and ask him how the investigation is going. I’d do it myself, but I’m just feeling a little delicate what with being pregnant and all.”

  “Bobbi Jo, you have never felt delicate a day in your life. This is just a ploy to get me to ask him out. Which I won’t do.” Would I? He was really good looking. And nic
e. Of course, he considered Bobbi Jo a suspect in Edward’s death, but he didn’t really think she did it. Or did he? It seemed to keep changing.

  “You don’t have to ask him out. But at least if you call, he’ll have an opportunity to ask you out.”

  Well, if he asked, that would be different. And I wanted to know about the investigation as much as Bobbi Jo did. Really.

  “I’ll call him tomorrow. He’s probably gone home by now.”

  “You want to come over for dinner?” Bobbi Jo asked. “Lily’s making a roast.”

  “Thanks, but I’m exhausted from the interview. I think I’ll just watch a movie and get to bed early. I thought I’d go shopping for some work clothes tomorrow; you want to come?”

  “Of course. Pick me up around eleven.”

  I hung up and looked at the clock. Seven fifteen. Maybe I could call Scott and just leave a voice mail. I punched in his number and mentally went over the message I’d leave.

  “Detective Madison.”

  “Oh. Hi. I didn’t expect you to be there.”

  “Then why did you call?”

  “This is Skye. I was going to leave you a message.”

  “I recognized your voice. What message were you going to leave?”

  “I just wanted to know what was happening with the investigation. Bobbi Jo asked me to call you.” That sounded stupid. And planned.

  “Have a drink with me and I can fill you in?”

  “Are you allowed to do that?”

  “What? Have drinks with you?”

  “I thought that because I’m a friend of Bobbi Jo’s maybe it wasn’t allowed.”

  “It would probably be unethical for me to go out with Mrs. Melrose, but I think I’m safe with you.”

  “Oh.” I wasn’t sure just how safe he was with me.

  “How about tomorrow night? Say seven? I’ll take you to my favorite burger joint.”

  “Okay. That sounds good.”

  “Great. I’ll see you then.”

  “Do you want me to meet you there?”

  “If you want. But I can come by and pick you up.”

  “That will be fine. My address is—”

  He rattled off my address. “DMV records. One of the perks of the job.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  You’ve got to help me decorate the nursery,” Bobbi Jo said as we walked through the department store.

  “Doesn’t the doula do that for you?”

  “Lily is a great doula but she has no decorating sense. She suggested I just put the baby in one of the drawers of my dresser.”

  That’s Lily. Down-to-earth practicality.

  “I want to do the nursery in bright colors. I heard it stimulates the baby.”

  “You’ll probably regret that. Believe me, babies are stimulated enough all on their own.”

  “You’d look great in this.” Bobbi Jo held up a slinky black outfit.

  “I need work clothes, something with lots of pockets.” I led her to the sportswear department and picked out a pair of cargo pants. “This will work.”

  Bobbi Jo made a face at the pants. “You should be shopping at L.L. Bean. Maybe Lands’ End.”

  “Great idea. I’ll have to get their catalogs. Or I could order from their Web sites.”

  “That doesn’t help you now, though.”

  “This will do for a while. I can order something more when I get home.”

  “Let’s look at the baby department before we go.”

  I couldn’t refuse her. I remembered how I’d wandered through the baby department when I’d been pregnant. I paid for the pants and we walked to the other end of the store and went into Babyland. It almost smelled like babies. Maybe they scented the air with baby powder.

  “Lily, what are you doing here?” Bobbi Jo asked.

  “I just wanted to look at some things. I love shopping for my friends’ babies, and since this is your first, you’re going to need a lot.”

  “I want one of everything,” Bobbi Jo said. “I just don’t know what it all is.”

  “You’ll definitely want one of these. It’s a Diaper Genie.”

  “What’s it do?” she asked.

  “You put the dirty diaper in it and it twists a plastic bag around it so you don’t have any baby poop odor,” Lily explained.

  “My baby’s poop isn’t going to stink.”

  “Not until you stop breast-feeding. Then, the odor is incredible.”

  “How long do you breast-feed anyway?” she asked.

  “I nursed Jasmine and Beau until they were almost two.”

  Bobbi Jo looked horrified. “I’m going to have the little sucker on my tit for two years?”

  “Most women nurse for less than a year,” I assured her. “I think I nursed Sheridan for about six months. After that she wanted food, not breast milk. I think she was eating pizza as soon as she could crawl to it.”

  “Oh, look at this crib. Isn’t it darling?” Bobbi Jo ran over to a brass, antique reproduction crib complete with a lacy, Victorian-style canopy.

  “You really don’t need something like this.” Lily shook her head.

  “Well, it depends on how you define need. If I want it, then I need it.”

  “There’s no arguing with her, Lily. This is going to be the most overindulged child in the world.”

  “I’m not going to spoil the baby. I’m going to spoil myself.”

  I glanced at my watch. “I really need to run. It’s almost four.”

  “What’s your hurry?” Lily asked.

  “I have dinner plans.”

  “Dinner?” Bobbi Jo asked with a big grin. “And just who are you having dinner with?”

  “Max?” Lily asked.

  “No. Actually, I called Scott last night to ask about the investigation and he asked me to dinner. But it’s just to tell me about the investigation.”

  “Sure it is,” Bobbi Jo said. “Although I’ll be happy when the whole thing is over. Brian is driving me nuts. He’s all nervous and twitchy about getting back to New York.”

  “Has he asked Scott about that? I mean, surely they’ll let him go back as long as they know how to get in touch with him.” Wouldn’t they? It seemed reasonable to me.

  “I like Brian and all, but he gets on my nerves after a while. And it’s been a while. He’s still talking to some lawyer about contesting the will, but my lawyer says he doesn’t have a chance of making that happen.”

  “I can ask Scott about Brian leaving tonight.” That would make me feel like it was less of a date. Which might make the knot in my stomach go away.

  I left Lily and Bobbi Jo still browsing through Babyland and drove home thinking about what to wear to dinner.

  I spent a ridiculous amount of time trying on outfits. This was beginning to feel like high school again and I didn’t like it a bit. Finally, I settled on a pair of tailored khakis and a red silk blouse. I’d just slipped my feet into a pair of black flats when I heard the buzzer.

  “Hey, that must be your date, Mom. I’ll buzz him in.”

  “How do I look?” I asked Sheridan as I walked into the main room.

  “You look fine. He’s on his way up.” Sheridan was settled on the sofa with a bowl of ice cream and the television remote. “How late are you going to be out?”

  “Why?”

  “Just curious. It’s not like you have a curfew or anything.” She grinned and spooned ice cream into her mouth. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to wait up for you. I have an early class tomorrow.”

  “Damn. Classes.”

  “What?”

  “I have to cancel mine. Because of the job with Benjamin Steinhart.”

  “Bummer.”

  I opened the door just as Scott got out of the elevator. “Hi, you found me. Come in.”

  He was wearing jeans and a light blue cotton sweater. The jeans were kind of tight and worn in all the right places, and the sweater showed off his chest and shoulders. Funny, I hadn’t noticed how broad his shoulders were before
. I did notice the manila envelope he was carrying, but I didn’t mention it.

  “This is my daughter, Sheridan. Sheridan, this is Scott Madison.”

  “Hi, Sheridan.”

  “Hey, Scott.”

  I walked over to give Sheridan a good-night kiss, something I’d done every night since she was born. When I leaned over her, she whispered, “Mom, I’ll totally understand if you don’t come home tonight. He’s really hot.” I glared at her, but she just grinned at me.

  Scott drove a big truck and I was happy I’d worn pants when I had to almost crawl into the seat. He parked downtown and we walked a block to Fatz Burgers. The restaurant was small with a long bar and small tables crowded together. Several people greeted Scott when we walked in. He waved at them but kept his attention focused on me, which was flattering and unnerving at the same time.

  “Hi, Scott.” A perky girl who didn’t look old enough to work in an establishment that served liquor greeted us. Actually, she greeted him. She ignored me.

  “Could we get a table in the back?” he asked. She nodded and led us into a second room. Still small, but without the noise from the bar and with larger tables. We were seated in the corner after Scott shook his head at the first two tables the girl stopped at.

  “I’ll have an Arrogant Bastard,” Scott said.

  “I’d like a glass of Merlot.” The girl bounced away, hopefully to notify someone old enough to serve the drinks. “Arrogant Bastard?”

  “It’s a really good beer. Comes from Stone Brewing in Southern California. Fatz is the only place that carries it up here.”

  “I’m not much of a beer person. I like it occasionally, but I don’t know all the brands and which one is better or anything.”

  “That’s good. When I have you over, you’ll drink wine and leave my beer alone.”

  When he has me over? Oh, my. I grinned and pointed to the envelope. “So, what’s that?”

  Scott put the envelope on the table and opened it. He pulled out a photograph and handed it to me. The man in the photo was young, maybe midtwenties. He had long, scraggly hair and a full beard. I could tell he was short because there was a kind of measuring stick next to him indicating he was five feet, eight inches tall. Obviously a picture from an arrest or something of that nature. From what I could see of his cheeks aside from the beard, he appeared chubby. “Who is this?”