As if to confirm my theory, Danny—the medical legal death investigator—paused to say a few words. We’d worked together on a couple of cases, which I hoped only helped my credibility.
“Go ahead,” Charlie muttered. “But make it quick.”
Danny pulled the sheet back. I soaked in the man’s face. It was round and thick like his neck, giving him a stocky, heavyset appearance. He had a scar on his cheek and a sleazy looking mustache boasting long strands of sparse hair.
I quickly examined the rest of him.
There were no signs of foul play. No blood. No visible bruises. No swelling or knots or anything.
“We should have the results in a few days,” Danny told me. He must have read my thoughts.
“How long has he been dead?”
“In my estimation, just based on factors determined here at the scene like body temperature, livor mortis, and rigor mortis, this man has been dead about five hours.”
I nodded, and Danny continued to wheel him away. I walked back over to Charlie, who was talking to some of the crime scene techs. My mind turned over the facts again and again.
“Did you find Scarlet’s cell phone?” I whispered.
“Yeah. Why?”
“I suppose you checked her messages for anything suspicious.”
“Of course I did. It had been wiped clean, though.”
“Were you able to recover anything?”
She crossed her arms. “No, we weren’t.”
“Didn’t you find that strange?”
“Of course. Either she was very careful or she didn’t like texting people.”
I stored that information away. Was it a clue? Or a coincidence? “Most people her age love texting.”
“There are exceptions, though.” Charlie shifted. “There’s something I need to ask you about, Gabby.”
“Anything.” I figured she’d ask about cast members or suspicions—my gut instinct about the case.
“Why was your business card found on the man?”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
Charlie continued to stare. “We found your card in the man’s pocket. Did you question him?”
“I’ve never seen that man before.”
“Then how did he get your card?”
I shook my head, dumbfounded. “I have no idea. I promise you, I have no clue who he is.”
“We’re going to need to question you, Gabby. You know that, right?”
Dread pooled in my stomach. This was just part of the routine, I told myself. However, I didn’t feel any better. “Am I a suspect?”
“Just a person of interest.”
“That means suspect,” I told her.
“Not always. I’m asking you to do this on your own free will.”
I bit back a sigh. “When do you want me to come in?”
She glanced at her watch. “Thirty minutes? Give me more time to wrap up things here.”
“Are you bringing everyone else in also?”
She shook her head. “Not unless we have reason to.”
I closed my eyes. This wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all.
***
I crossed my arms over my chest as I sat in the interrogation room. I’d dreamed about being in this very place many times—but in all my fantasies, I’d been on the other side of the law. The right side of the law.
Right now, I felt exposed. There was no table between Charlie and me. I desperately wanted to put something between us, but crossing my arms over my chest was the best I could do at the moment.
“Are you sure you’ve never seen this man?” Charlie repeated, pushing his photo toward me.
“I’m positive, Charl—I mean, Detective Henderson. Besides, I was locked in a closet when this happened. I couldn’t have done it.”
“Apparently, you were only in the closet the last thirty minutes. There were thirty minutes prior to that when no one saw you.”
“That’s because I was looking for Arie!” I insisted.
I had to keep my voice down. I wasn’t doing myself any favors by getting wound up, and I knew that. Applying it was much harder.
“Then how did your business card get in his pocket?”
“It’s like I’ve told you already: I have no idea. I guess someone put it there? Maybe we have mutual acquaintances. I’m not sure.”
“Is there anyone involved with the play who you’ve noticed acting suspiciously?” Charlie asked.
I let out my breath. At least the spotlight was off me for a minute. Should I mention Paulette? She’d had dirt on her cheek. But that didn’t make her guilty.
Arie? Again, I had suspicions but no proof. If I mentioned either of their names and happened to be wrong, then I wouldn’t be doing myself any favors.
“I heard several people went out by themselves searching for Arie,” I said instead. “I suppose any of them could have had the opportunity. I still have no idea what anyone’s motive would be, not to mention the means. There was no sign of foul play on the man.”
“His body didn’t end up in the orchestra pit by accident.”
“I agree. I think someone put him there to make a statement.”
“About what?”
“Quite possibly about me! He was planted there to make a point. I think it’s obvious he didn’t die in the pit.”
Charlie squinted. “Why would you say that?”
“He wasn’t there during the first act, for starters. It looked like he’d been positioned on the floor. If he just happened to be vandalizing the school and fell, the scene would have been much uglier.”
Another detective entered the room and slid a file toward Charlie. I held my breath as she opened it and read something there.
I hated this. I hated being on the opposite side of the law—even if I wasn’t really on the opposite side. The justice system was supposed to work in favor of the good guys, not condemn the innocent.
Jesus, who was innocent, was condemned for your sins and paid the ultimate price.
The thought slammed into my mind and I drew in a deep breath. The trials I faced on this earth were just temporary, no matter how consuming they could feel. All the hardest moments in life could lead to some of the deepest character growth.
I’d learned that time and time again over the past couple of years. I couldn’t let myself forget it now.
“Does the name Oliver Cartwright mean anything to you?” Charlie asked.
I thought about it a moment and then shook my head. “Nope. Not a thing. Who is he?”
Charlie glanced up, her gaze no-nonsense. “He’s the man from the pit, and he’s got a list of petty offenses, apparently. No real job. That doesn’t explain why he was in the school.”
Silence fell, and I rubbed my temples as the seriousness of the whole situation hit me even more. I could be in big trouble. I hoped I was overreacting, but better safe than sorry. “Do I need to call a lawyer?”
Charlie shook her head. “No. A business card isn’t enough to book a person for a crime. But you should stay in town, Gabby, just in case we have more questions.”
I leaned closer. “You don’t really think I’m guilty, do you?”
Certainly she knew me better than this. We’d had dinner together. I’d given her and Parker my blessing, even when Parker was dating me and had feelings for her. I’d fussed at Parker for being irresponsible and not marrying her. Basically, I’d been on her side.
For a brief moment, I regretted that. I regretted misplaced loyalties. I regretted kindness that wasn’t returned.
“My feelings have nothing to do with this, Gabby. My job is to follow the evidence. I thought you knew that.”
At that moment, I realized that Charlie wasn’t my friend. She was my ex-boyfriend’s scorned baby momma. Any ties we’d had were gone. In fact, Parker’s betrayal of her might even make her dislike me more.
“Of course I know that you have to be objective. But—” I stopped myself. Arguing would be futile. “Never mind. I’m not going an
ywhere. I’m not guilty either.”
Now I just had to prove it.
CHAPTER 17
When I left the police station, I only wanted to go home and be alone. But I still had a job to do. I had a killer to find. The investigation was even more important now because the last thing I wanted was to be framed for the crime.
With a bit of anxiety pressing on me, I walked toward the Slug House, an unappetizing name if I’d ever heard one. This was apparently where the cast went after practice to unwind. It had taken me a few days to get an invitation from Arie, who was evidently the ringleader of this motley crew, but at least I was here now.
I paused before walking inside. The night air was bitingly cold around me, but I needed to check something out with the assurance that no one was looking over my shoulder. I pulled out my phone and noticed I’d missed a call from Garrett and a couple of calls from Chad. I ignored them and did a quick search for Oliver Cartwright instead.
There wasn’t much information on him, but I did find one of his mug shots. Having his picture up on my phone and readily available could come in handy. I took a screen shot and then slid my phone back into my pocket.
I pulled open one of the heavy double doors leading to the restaurant, which was located in a strip mall down the street from the school. This wasn’t my kind of place—it was really more bar than restaurant. As always, I’d stay away from the alcohol, but I would try to uncover some answers while inside.
Besides, maybe someone would suffer from loose lips while they were here. Alcohol could do that to people. While I didn’t encourage the drinking, I would be using it to my advantage, if I had to.
I spotted the group at a table in the corner and sauntered over to them. Bennie was the first one to see me. A wide smile spread across her face.
“Gabby! So glad you could make it. Scoot over, guys. Make room for her.”
Everyone scooted around. Thank goodness I had at least one person on my side. Good old Bennie.
“So, they questioned you first, huh?” Jerome started. “That’s what Paulette said. That’s why you were able to leave when you did.”
My heart rate slowed. Paulette had given me a cover story? I supposed I needed to thank her. “That’s right. Since I discovered the body, I guess it made sense to talk to me first.”
Arie glanced at her watch. “So, where have you been between then and now?”
“That’s really none of your business,” Bennie said, giving Arie her best sassy girl duck lips.
“Thanks, Bennie,” I told her. “But if people really want to know, I had some business to attend to.”
Miraculously, no one asked any questions.
“So, we’re taking votes on who thinks the show won’t go on anymore. What’s your vote?” Jerome asked before chugging some beer.
I shrugged. “I think we should press ahead.”
“After two murders?” Bennie asked, her mouth parting with surprise.
“We don’t have enough information yet. There were no signs of foul play on the man we found tonight.”
“How do you know that?” Arie asked, her eyebrows arching together.
“Because I saw him. Not only from the stage; I was in the room when they hauled him off to the medical examiner’s.” I paused as I noted the incredulous looks around me. “Look, I agree that it was all very strange. But we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Besides, you heard Paulette tonight. She’s depending on this play to launch the entire Cultural Arts Center. If this bombs, the whole place could close and then there would be fewer opportunities for any of you—I mean, us—to get our acting chops.”
A few people shrugged.
“I guess you’re right,” Bennie said. “I just don’t want to see anyone else get hurt.”
“Paulette is upping security. Maybe that will thwart some of this nonsense,” I added.
“Why do you sound like you know so much about this?” Arie asked, suspicion staining her eyes.
I shrugged. “Maybe I watch too much TV.”
“Or maybe you’re involved with this somehow.” A new emotion gleamed in her eyes. Was she gloating?
“That is just as likely as you being somehow involved. I wasn’t even a part of this show when this stuff started happening.” I stared at Arie. “You were.”
She scowled.
“All of this pointing fingers will get us nowhere,” Bennie said. “Besides, this is reminding me too much of my family life growing up. I’m blowing this joint if this keeps up.”
“You’re right,” I concurred. “You know what? I think I’m going to run to the restroom. If the waiter comes around, I’d like a water.”
“You sure you don’t want something stronger?” Jerome asked.
“Positive.”
Once I was out of sight of the table, I bypassed the bathroom and leaned against the bar. The bartender came over and I pulled out my phone. “You ever seen this guy?”
It was a long shot, but if the man who’d died had been casing out the school, maybe he’d also been lurking around unknowing cast members as they hung out here also. I’d never know if I didn’t ask.
He studied the picture. Based on the way his head bobbed to the side, I thought for sure he’d say “no,” but he nodded instead. “Yeah, he’s been in before.”
“Remember anything about him?”
“Not much.” He wiped a glass dry. “Why?”
“He’s dead.”
“You the police?”
“P.I.,” I whispered.
He stared at me another moment, continuing to dry the same glass. “Yeah, he was in a couple of days ago. I remember him because he paid for everyone’s drinks. Kind of generous—not that anyone was complaining. But you remember things like that.”
“Was he with anyone?”
“I think he was with a girl and a guy. Neither seemed happy with him. In fact, I’m pretty sure they led him out of the bar right after he paid a major tab.”
“Remember anything about them?”
He stared off in the distance for a moment before shaking his head. “I can’t say I do. Not really, at least. The girl had curly red hair—kind of like yours.”
I swallowed hard. Red hair? Like mine?
That wasn’t good. Someone was setting me up, weren’t they? “How about the guy?”
“He wore a ball cap. They had a strange smell to them. It was a mix of gasoline and something else.”
Gasoline? Maybe he’d been here the night when someone had left a trail of it in the hallway. My pulse spiked.
“Can you describe the other smell?”
He sighed and set the glass down. “You know, not really. Maybe like newspaper, though. It’s the closest I can get to the actual scent.”
Someone called for a drink farther down the bar. I slipped my phone in my pocket again, armed with new information. I wasn’t sure what to do with it exactly, but I hoped the pieces would start snapping together soon.
“Gabby?”
I looked over and saw Bennie standing there. I straightened, realizing how strange I probably looked. “Hey.”
“Everything okay? You were taking so long I thought I should check on you.” She glanced back and forth from me to the bartender.
“I was just checking the weather. Someone told me we might have a snowstorm on the way.”
She snorted. “Don’t tell Paulette that. It will just be one more thing to stress her out. Snow means nobody’s coming out for our play, you know what I mean?”
I nodded and started walking back toward the table. “Yeah, the bartender seemed to remember that forecasters are thinking it will miss us and head north instead.”
Bennie hooked her arm through mine. “Let’s go back and sit down.”
I mentally took a few steps back in time. Bennie also smelled faintly of … gasoline.
***
Today was Saturday, and I actually didn’t have any firm plan for the morning hours. We had an afternoon rehearsal, and I was having dinner at G
arrett’s place tonight. In the meantime, I was really hoping I didn’t get called into any jobs today. Chad and Sierra were doing some kind of fundraiser for her animal rights organization, so I’d be taking any calls that came in for the business.
I needed some downtime. I’d been either working or rehearsing for the play all week, and I was tired. Plus, I needed to let my thoughts settle.
I’d hung out with the cast last night, hoping to discover something about someone. But I hadn’t discovered anything about anyone. I’d mostly heard people complain. Watched them get drunk. Listened to them laugh at things that weren’t funny.
I’d stayed for about an hour before I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d feigned exhaustion and slipped away, no closer to answers now than I’d been before. Bennie left when I did.
She’d hopped on her motorcycle and ridden off into the night.
It was then I’d realized that she smelled like gasoline because of her bike. Had the man who’d died also ridden a motorcycle? Was that the smell that had saturated him?
I had so many questions.
All I had in my cupboards was some coffee, so I made myself a pot and then sat down at my desk. The first thing I wanted to do was call Marjorie’s landlord again.
He answered on the first ring, and I explained who I was.
“Right, right. You called earlier. Sorry. I’ve had other things to do besides return phone calls.”
“I only need a moment of your time. I just need to know if you called the cable company for one of your residents.”
“No, I didn’t call the cable company for anyone this week. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Was one of the residents complaining that they weren’t getting their TV stations again? Those young people. Don’t they have anything better to do than watch TV?”
He went off on a tangent and, at the first opportunity, I bowed out of the conversation. I had the answer I needed. Someone wanted to get his hands on that costume. Why? Was there something special about it?
Next, I looked up the prescription I’d found on Paulette’s desk. I wanted to know what she was taking medication for.
I typed in the last seven letters and only one RX came up. A drug called Exocotain. I read the description and discovered it was for anxiety and depression. I scrolled down to read the fine print. It was also capable of causing hallucinations and paranoia.
Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 08 - Foul Play Page 11