As she stepped away from the extended arm, an enormous gust of wind blew up the mountain, taking with it a couple of hats, a scarf, and the pen she clutched in her exposed and probably cold hand. I watched as the shamrock lifted into the air and then got lost in the blinding glow of a streetlight pocked with falling snow. I would never be able to catch it.
“You can’t go,” I said as I barreled my way in between Adele and the cab. “Someone call the police.”
“I can do whatever I want,” Adele said.
I’d processed the fact that there were cameras rolling, even if they were attached to phones. The crowd watched, and silently, raptly recorded the scene.
I noticed that the one person I thought would be recording wasn’t. Toby repositioned himself close to me so that he could lunge at Adele if she had a notion to do something similar in my direction.
“No, you can’t,” I stammered. “Because”—I looked around and raised my voice—“I think you killed Cassie Bane.”
Gasps cut through the wind and cold, but I’d become so pumped with adrenaline that I was warmed through.
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Adele said.
“I think Clare is right. I think you killed her.” Nell stepped next to Toby.
More gasps, particularly when Nell removed her scarf again. Even through the bizarre circumstances, I noticed that Nell’s blond locks didn’t whip around weirdly with the wind. They moved like waves of wheat. Some people just had it.
“Ha! What do you know? You were poison to Matt. You and your flirty smiles, leading him on like you did. I told Cassie she shouldn’t fall for your act. I told her you and Howie were together. She didn’t believe me.”
Murmurs of “Who’s Howie?” spread through the crowd.
“Why did you kill her, Adele? Why did you kill Cassie Bane?” I said, raising my voice even more. I really hoped those cameras were rolling and had strong microphones.
A long silence followed as Adele melded into her part. She liked being the center of attention. She liked the drama, the role. These things were much more important to her than the real-life risk of her freedom. She was suddenly the star, and she would play it up.
“Cassie was in the way. She was in my way and in Matt’s way. I went with her to that stupid meeting. It was a final audition for the last sister-wife, and she got the part! Can you believe the director thought it would be okay for Matt’s real-life sister to be one of his sister-wives in a series that was on track to be a big hit? Even Howie tried to argue that she shouldn’t get the part. The director thought the angle of them being real-life siblings would sell more tickets. But we would have been a disgusting laughingstock. I was going to shine in my role. I was going to become a star. Cassie was going to ruin it for all of us.”
It was difficult to argue with her conclusions, except she might not have become the big star she predicted, and she shouldn’t have committed murder to solve the problem.
“You could have just quit,” I said, more quietly now. I couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit sorry for her. “You’re young. There would have been other roles.”
Adele shook her head. “No, you don’t understand. These things don’t come along all the time.”
“But Matt? You let him take the fall?” I said.
“I didn’t mean to,” she said with emotion pulling at her voice. “I didn’t mean for that to happen, but . . . I left out the window. I didn’t know he would do what he did. I didn’t know he would come in the room.”
“You screamed,” I guessed. “What was he supposed to do?”
“I don’t know why I screamed. I couldn’t stop myself. After I stabbed her it all seemed so horrible!”
“Better you than him, huh?” Nell said.
Adele sighed. “Something like that.” She added, “I tried to make people think Howie was the killer. It would have made sense.”
Another moment of silence followed as Adele came out of her role, realizing what she’d just done and understanding how stupid it had been. Her eyes grew wide with fear and confusion. Perhaps her life in Hollywood had caused psychological problems that had brought her to this point. Or maybe she was off already. Maybe Hollywood had just made her worse.
“Adele, come on,” I said. “Let’s go inside and talk about this some more.”
It was a stupid thing to say, but I couldn’t think of anything else. She smirked and then reached for one of the pieces of luggage that she’d let fall to the sidewalk. The thin layer of snow that had already covered it slid off and onto the wet cement.
In a quick, agile move she grabbed the shoulder strap of the bag and swung hard, hitting Nell before the blond actress could step back. Between the slippery footing and the impact of the bag, Nell went down hard, smacking her head.
“Nell!” I said as I stepped around Adele. Toby and I crouched beside her.
“I’m okay,” she said as she put her hand at her temple, but I could tell she was woozy.
“What’s wrong with you?” I said toward Adele.
As I looked in her direction, I noticed the bag was coming my way and it was too late to do much about it. I tried to react by bringing my arm up to protect my own head, but I knew I wasn’t going to manage it in time. I braced for impact.
But it never came.
I’d shut my eyes tight and when I opened them, I still saw Adele and her bag, but someone else had stopped them from hitting me. Someone had grabbed the strap before the bag had had a chance to come around all the way again.
Two actors, the bag, and the blowing snow were framed perfectly by the light from a nearby streetlamp. I could see Adele’s shock and half of the face under the man’s cowboy hat. He wasn’t in a good mood.
“I don’t think so,” Flint Magnum said as he took the bag from Adele with one hand and held her arm in his grip with the other one. “Not today, little lady.”
I didn’t know if the onlookers thought they were witnessing something made up, an act, or if they knew it was real, but nevertheless a few of them applauded and I heard one “Bravo!”
And then I heard the peal of approaching sirens. I smiled, and knew Jodie was on her way.
It was great to have so many people around to save the day.
28
“Clare, I don’t know about this. Jimmy might have a heart attack before the night is over,” Chester said quietly as he leaned close to me.
“He’ll be fine. Matt Bane will be gone soon,” I said, but I wasn’t so sure. Either the way he looked at my niece was something learned from being a leading man or he was totally taken by her beauty.
I had to admit she was stunning in the black dress that looked nothing like Goth on her. Toby thought she was beautiful too, but he didn’t look quite as happy.
We were gathered in The Rescued Word, the place we’d decided to meet before going to the Star City Film Festival’s final awards ceremony, where Matt Bane would probably win the best actor award for his portrayal of a serial killer in Kill Night.
He was mourning his sister, but the relief over being exonerated had overridden his sadness long enough that the second he’d walked out of the prison, he’d made his way to The Rescued Word. He’d thanked me and then asked if we all wanted to attend the awards ceremony as his guests. It had seemed somewhat spur-of-the-moment when he’d invited Marion to be his date, but I wondered if even that had been planned. He sure seemed to like her. But it was difficult to know what these actors’ real motives were.
It had taken Jodie approximately thirty seconds to find a necklace in one of Adele’s suitcases with beads matching those found at The Fountain. Adele told her the matching bracelet must have snapped off when she’d climbed out the window. Jodie also found a torn brown top, made of the same material as the piece the police had found on the window frame. Adele had also admitted to taking the shamrock pen from Cassie at the meeting with th
e director. It was a slam-dunk case once all the correct evidence had been gathered.
Chester and Ramona were with us and dressed up again; Seth was next to me, just as dapper as he’d been at the party. Jodie and Mutt had been invited and they looked downright awesome and not even slightly rough-and-tumble in their dress-up clothes. Toby had also been invited and given a special all-access press pass. I thought he would have rather just gone as Marion’s date, but at least he was going to get his chance to make a mark in the blog world. Matt Bane also offered him an exclusive interview. Toby’s world was about to change big-time.
Jimmy was coming to the awards ceremony too. He didn’t have a date, but it was clear he didn’t like Matt Bane. I wasn’t sure the father of any young woman Matt took on a date could like or trust the extraordinarily handsome actor. But Jimmy would be fine. Eventually.
I’d never once before seen Flint Magnum on the streets of Star City, but Chester assured me that he frequently traveled them. I didn’t think I would ever understand how he was so good at hiding himself. Chester shrugged it off.
In fact, Flint had just come from The Rescued Word when he’d saved me from Adele’s bag. He’d hoped to come in and talk to me about the Muir book. When he found the shop was closed and since the snow was coming down so heavily, he thought he’d be able to walk up the street without garnering much attention. He didn’t have the chance to do that very often.
After the police took Adele away, I told him I still hadn’t finished my research on the book, but I promised I would get right on it. He thanked me and told me he could either send someone to pick it up when it was ready or I could bring it up to his house. He said he’d put my name on a “welcome list.”
Jodie hadn’t received any phone calls about the ruckus outside The Fountain. She and some of the officers had been monitoring the Web site with the live festival action. The feed had gone down with the phones, but when it came back up, I was the first person Jodie saw on the screen. She took only a second to figure out that the police were needed.
“Found him,” Jodie said over my shoulder.
I turned. “Found who?”
“John/Zeb.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep, arrested him too.”
“That’s a relief. How . . . I mean, I don’t get it. How did he do what he did?”
“The luck of the criminally inclined.” Jodie shrugged.
“I still don’t get it.”
“He’d stolen the Selectrics from some old office-supply warehouse. He thought he could get a little for them, so he brought them into the shop. Apparently, you weren’t in yet and Chester was really busy. The box of tins was on the counter. He was looking through them and he saw the money. He wanted to pocket it right then, but another customer saw what he was doing. He put the tin back and came in later.”
“You’re kidding.” I thought back to when I’d looked through the box on the counter after I’d helped Zeb. “But he even said Seth’s name.”
“He’s a good con man. He was chatting up Chester apparently—had picked up on the hankie phobia, actually—but Chester mentioned you and, for whatever reason, your boyfriend, Seth. He picked up on that too and used it. It’s how con men and psychics do their thing.”
“Wow, he could have gotten away with that money.”
“But he didn’t. It went to the correct person. And we got the bad guy. He’s been busy this festival season. He’s in trouble, but I’m not sure how much we’ll be able to pin on him. We’re working on it. Actually, Creighton’s working on this one big-time.”
“Hey,” I said, “what was the argument about? The thing Creighton did that I overheard?”
“Oh.”
For a second I thought Jodie wouldn’t tell me, but she soon continued, quietly, and after she made sure no one else was listening.
“Creighton wouldn’t let an attorney go back and talk to Matt Bane. He’s not a fan of these Hollywood folks and we’ve all seen too many of them not have to pay for their crimes. He wanted Matt Bane to sweat it out, so he lied to the attorney who showed up, told him that Matt already had one.”
“That’s being a bad police officer at best, and totally illegal at worst, Jodie. I can’t believe he got away with it.”
“I know.”
“It’s not good. And he’s the boss now.”
“I know. Could get bumpy ahead, but I’m working on him. What I just told you doesn’t get past us. Justice has been served, but I’d rather Matt Bane didn’t think he should sue the Star City Police Department. Even if maybe he should.”
I swallowed. For her, I’d keep quiet, but I was also going to keep a watchful eye on her brother.
“Got it,” I said.
“Ready, everyone?” Matt said. He smiled at Marion and held his arm out.
“Hey, Matt,” I said as I remembered something. “What was that call? The one Howie came to tell you about when you first came into the store.”
Matt thought a moment and said, “Oh! There’s going to be a Kill Night sequel.” He smiled sadly, probably remembering how horrible that day had turned out to be. I wished I hadn’t asked. He humbly added, “The first one got picked up worldwide.”
“Congratulations,” I said, though, again, I felt sorry for Matt Bane.
“Thank you,” he said.
I saw something in his eyes: a shift, a change, as he put on a brave face. Had I just witnessed an actor acting or a young man being polite because he’d invited all of us to an event he might not be emotionally prepared to attend, but one that would probably be big for his career? Was I seeing an example of “the show must go on”? I was sure he’d be fine eventually, but Cassie’s murder was going to haunt him for a long time.
He hadn’t been upset in the least about Nell and Howie. In fact he’d suspected they were together. He’d wondered if it was their relationship that somehow led to his sister’s murder, but he couldn’t figure out how or why. It was the reason he’d sent me to the party. He thought Nell and Howie would come out as a couple and that would somehow lead to suspicion being cast on someone other than him.
It hadn’t worked. At all.
Nell had later confided to me that she’d gone to pick up Matt’s iPad to save Howie from seeing some pictures of her with Matt. She told me that her heart belonged to Howie, but she’d had a recent weak moment with Matt. She didn’t want Howie to get to the iPad before she had a chance to remove the pictures. I had no idea how all of that would play out, but I hoped they’d figure it out okay.
Poor Toby. Marion couldn’t help but be in a haze of romantic fairy-tale land. She smiled at Matt. I was pretty sure she’d forgotten about everyone else in the room.
Toby had told me that he’d been embarrassed he couldn’t catch Zeb as he ran away from us. He hadn’t lied about the direction he thought the con man had turned, but he just wished he could have helped more. I’d only thought I’d seen Zeb on the other side of the road.
Seth and I let everyone else go out the doors before us. I looked up at Baskerville on his shelf, and he gave a blink and a nod of approval—or was that relief to see us get out of there?—before he turned and curled into a circle.
After I closed and locked the door, relishing the cool but comfortable and non-stormy night we would walk through to get to the theater, Seth crooked his arm and smiled at me.
“You are ravishing,” he said.
“You too.” I smiled. “Ready?”
“Absolutely. What is it they say? Lights, camera, action.”
I laughed, and for that night, we walked among the stars—those around us and those over our heads—in our perfect mountain town.
Our festival story was one for the books.
Read on for an exclusive preview of the next Dangerous Type Mystery,
Comic Sans Murder
Coming soon from Berkley
Prime Crime
1
Larry Gerald might not have thought it too odd to find an abandoned ski boot on the Star City Resort slopes, but it’s what he found inside it that was most unexpected.
He spied the gray boot resting atop the still-solid snow base at the edge of a small copse of pine trees, their branches currently green and not powdered with the white stuff. It was his first day on a snowboard, which might have contributed to his piqued curiosity about the boot. He’d taken a lesson but had spent more time on his behind than upright on the board. He welcomed an excuse for a moment’s rest as he came to an awkward stop next to the boot and sat back onto the snow.
“Ouch,” he said, realizing that even sitting was going to cause some pain for a little while. At least he was out of the way for a minute or two, he thought as he looked toward the run. Most of the boarders were at least ten years his junior and moved down the mountain or through the half-pipe as if their snowboards were extensions of their legs, not something foreign buckled onto them.
He shook his head at himself and his inability to accept that even he, onetime star athlete, was destined to lose a little of his innate athletic abilities once he reached thirty, never mind thirty-five. Besides, he’d been a swimmer, not a snowboarder. Different muscles.
He smiled at himself. None of that mattered. He was having a great time in Star City, Utah, taking a well-deserved vacation and enjoying the sights, the sounds, and the greatest snow on earth. Even now he could look in one direction and see the valley that held charming Star City shops, and in the other direction at snow-covered slopes alive with the pulse of curving lines made by happy skiers and snowboarders. Life was good.
Mostly, at least. Law school had been rough, the divorce rougher. Still plenty of time to make a good go of it, though.
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