“Mrs. Carlson, I know there’s a TV show being made about your amateur sleuthing efforts back home, but L.A. is a completely different animal. This case is the sort of thing that needs to be left to the professionals.”
“I’m not speaking to you as a sleuth.”
He folded his arms. “You’re not?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m talking to you as someone who is really distressed about what happened at that studio yesterday.”
“Even if that is the case, I’m not going to discuss details of this investigation with you.”
“You had no problem talking to me when I was telling you about potential suspects.”
“Just because you’re willing to discuss the case with me doesn’t mean I’m willing to do the same with you.”
I took a deep breath. “All right. Well, I wish you luck. It would be a huge relief to have Richman’s killer behind bars.”
“I agree. Why don’t you let me get back to my job so I can try to do just that?”
“Okay.”
“You can see yourself out.”
Just as I got up from my chair, a harried, mustached man in his late thirties entered the doorway to Detective Taggart’s office with a file folder in his hands.
“The results are back from the lab for the Richman case. No prints, DNA, or anything,” the man said.
Detective Taggart grimaced. “Williamson, what have I told you about knocking first?”
The man spotted me in the office and looked like he regretted opening his mouth. He then turned his focus to Taggart. “Sorry, Detective. It just slipped out. That’s what happens when you’re at the tail end of a killer twelve-hour shift.”
“Williamson, why don’t you show Mrs. Carlson out?” Detective Taggart said.
***
Taggart had phrased that sentence as a question, but it was really an order. I left the police station with a deflated look on my face. I had gone in there with high hopes, praying that the detective was close to breaking this case wide open. Instead, the opposite appeared to be true.
Neither Taggart’s terseness with me nor his general stern attitude bothered me. I didn’t expect a big city cop to just spill his guts to me. I knew details would be hard to come by from him. If anything, I was surprised that I was able to get as much information from him as I did.
The thing that troubled me the most was the look in the detective’s eyes. He seemed to have a distinct lack of confidence. I knew that look quite well. Mostly because I had seen it before in David’s eyes when he was having trouble with a case.
He would always try to put up a good front, even if he was hitting a brick wall. But I was able to see through the façade. It was pretty clear to me that Detective Taggart was stumped, but that he just wasn’t willing to admit it. Granted, it was still early in the case. The problem was, it was too soon to hit such a snag.
Between the detective’s heavy case load and the multitude of suspects, Taggart had his hands full.
What he really needed was some help. Although, a man as proud as that, would never admit it. Initially, I had been reticent to get involved in this investigation, but I couldn’t stand the idea of the killer possibly getting away with this.
I knew what I had to do.
So even though Taggart hadn’t asked for my assistance, he was going to get it.
Chapter Nineteen
I walked back to the limo, filled with resolve.
Jacob leaned against the limo, fiddling with his phone. When he spotted me, he slid his phone into his pocket and opened the back door of the car.
“How did it go in there?” Jacob asked.
“It could have gone better,” I said.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you have me bring you here?”
“I wanted to share a few tidbits of information with the detective who is working on the Richman case.”
Jacob’s eyebrows rose. “Oh. How is the investigation going, by the way?”
“The detective wouldn’t tell me,” I said.
“That doesn’t surprise me. Big city cops tend to keep things really close to the vest.”
“Do you know that from experience?”
“No. It’s just something I have heard before.” He quickly changed the subject. “You know, this whole thing with Richman is crazy. I can’t believe someone actually murdered him.”
I took a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m still having a hard time with that myself. I was not prepared for something like this to happen.”
He squinted at me. “How can you be prepared for murder?”
“You’re right. That was a poor choice of words.”
“It’s okay. I don’t even really know what to say. Except that a situation like this is completely insane.”
My nose scrunched. “Not to sound insensitive, but in a city this size, aren’t there a couple of murders committed every week?”
“Yeah, but they are usually gang shootings or mob hits or drug deals gone bad. It’s not often that a rich TV producer is killed in his office.”
“I suppose you’re right. Something like that is pretty rare.”
“Not to mention, chilling. I hope the police nail the psychopath who did this.”
“We can hope,” I said. “In the meantime, can you take me to the studio?”
Chapter Twenty
Jacob had to navigate through forty-five minutes worth of traffic before we arrived at the studio. When he finally pulled in front of Richman-Terwilliger Productions, a surprising sight awaited me as I got out of the limo.
Not only was the yellow police tape gone, but I saw Audrey walking out of the building carrying a box. Her head was down as she trudged over to the parking lot.
I walked toward her. “Audrey,” I said.
She briefly glanced at me, but didn’t stop walking. “Sorry. I can’t really talk right now.”
“Why? Where are you going?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Why are you being so confrontational?”
“I just want to get out of here, all right?”
My forehead wrinkled. “But, I don’t understand. What’s with the box?”
Audrey stopped walking, turned to me, and snapped, “Will you just leave me alone?”
She then continued moving through the parking lot, but not before I got a good look at the box she was carrying.
“Wait a minute. That stuff in the box. It was all on your desk before,” I said. “Were you—?”
“Fired?” she replied. “Yes. Now, will you get off of my back?”
“I’m so sorry to hear that you lost your job.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to talk about it?”
“I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around this. Why were you let go?”
“Because Richman’s wife hates me, that’s why.”
“Richman’s wife? But she doesn’t work there.”
“She didn’t used to. Now she owns half of the production company, and the first item on her agenda was getting rid of me.”
“What about Isaac Terwilliger? He was William’s business partner. Couldn’t he have stepped in and stopped Richman’s wife?”
“Isaac wasn’t about to do that.”
“Why not?”
Audrey scoffed. “Are you kidding? He wasn’t about to stand up to Richman’s wife.”
My eyebrows knitted. “But that doesn’t make sense.”
Chapter Twenty-One
When I entered the office, it soon became clear to me why Isaac had not fought Richman’s wife’s decision to fire Audrey.
I stood in the reception area and stared in shock as I saw Isaac Terwilliger and Michelle Richman flirting in Terwilliger’s office.
Michelle was in her early fifties. She had a trim body, long black hair, a round face, and blue eyes. I recognized her from the photos that I had seen of her online last night when I looked up information about William’s life.
; According to the details that I had read on the Internet, Michelle had originally come to Hollywood to be an actress a number of decades ago. Her dreams of stardom didn’t exactly pan out, but she did end up meeting William, who she married fourteen years ago. Once they tied the knot, Michelle stopped chasing acting roles and embraced the life of a rich housewife.
With her husband dead, Michelle would inherit William’s half of the production company, as well as their house in Malibu, and the millions of dollars that comprised William’s net worth.
Normally, this windfall of an inheritance would be at the forefront of my mind. Instead, her flirtatious behavior with Isaac stood out to me. So much for mourning over the death of her husband. Michelle only appeared to have Isaac on her mind currently.
Naturally, I wondered how long Michelle and Isaac had been flirtatious with each other. Was this a new development, or had it been going on for a while?
Michelle and Isaac were completely oblivious to my presence in the doorway to the office. I could have stood idly by, watching them longer, but I opted to speak up and catch them in the act of exchanging lust-filled glances with each other.
“Morning,” I said.
They both turned to me, shocked that they weren’t alone in the office. In addition, they tried to look as business-like as possible, but it was too late. I knew what I had seen.
“Mrs. Carlson. What are you doing here?” Isaac asked.
I directed my attention to Michelle. “Mrs. Richman, I just want to say that I’m really sorry about your loss.”
Michelle tried to look as sorrowful as possible. “Thank you for the condolences. It’s awful.”
“I have to admit, though, I’m really surprised to see you here today. I figured you’d be at home grieving,” I said.
“I’ve been doing plenty of that,” Michelle said. “But I just needed to get out of the house.”
“We all mourn in different ways,” I said.
Michelle nodded. “I’m just trying to get through this, any way that I can.”
“Which brings me to another curious point. I ran into Audrey Hill on the way in here. I was pretty shocked to hear that you had fired her—the day after your husband’s murder, no less.”
Michelle put her hands on her hips and stared me down. “I’m sorry. I thought you were here to extend your sympathies.”
“I am.”
“Well, they are extended. So why don’t you go on your way and let us get back to what we were doing?” Michelle asked.
“And just what exactly were you doing?” I said.
“That’s none of your business,” Michelle said.
“I think it would be best if you left,” Isaac said.
“I will,” I said.
Michelle breathed a sigh of relief.
“But before I go, there’s something I want to ask you,” I said.
Michelle tensed up again.
“Did the detective say that he had any idea who did this to your husband?” I asked.
Michelle shook her head. “The police did not have any answers for me.”
“That’s a shame. I would like to see whoever did this behind bars,” I said.
“Hopefully, they will be soon,” Michelle said.
“I just can’t help but wonder if the killer is someone who had close ties to William—”
Michelle cut me off. “That’s a dreadful thought.”
“It is, but it’s also most likely the case. After all, a lot of people had reasons for wanting him dead. In addition, more than a few people stood to gain from his murder,” I said.
“That’s too disturbing to think about,” Michelle said.
“It’s definitely unsettling, but it’s also the truth,” I said.
“According to you. But all that matters is what the detective thinks. So why don’t you mind your own business?” Michelle asked.
“Mrs. Richman, the truth is everyone’s business. And it always has a way of coming out in the end,” I said.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “What are you implying?”
“Nothing. I’m just stating facts. Like you are now co-owner of your husband’s production company. And that you decided to come into his office the day after his murder to fire his receptionist,” I said.
“If you’re accusing me of something—”
I interrupted her. “Don’t get all defensive. I’m not accusing you of anything.”
“It sure sounds like you are,” Michelle said.
“I’m just discussing the facts. If you didn’t do anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about,” I said.
“I’m not going to just stand here and let you talk to me this way. I just lost my husband. Now, please leave,” Michelle said.
“As you wish,” I said. “Again, I’m very sorry about what happened to William.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
What a terrible way to start out an investigation. I was a little rusty with my questioning. Part of it was because it had been a really long time since I had worked on a case solo. Over the last few years, David had been by my side. And, while his police badge did not force people to answer questions, it sure helped.
I was on my own this time, which meant I couldn’t force a suspect to answer any of my questions. I also had to be careful about how much pressure I applied during a conversation. After all, none of the suspects had to talk to me.
As I left the building, it struck me how much more difficult this case would be than the ones I was used to back home.
Another surprise awaited me as I reached the parking lot of the production company.
When I first arrived on the lot, Audrey Hill looked determined to leave this studio as quickly as possible. It turned out she didn’t get very far.
I spotted her at the edge of the parking lot, speaking with the last person that I ever would have expected—my limo driver, Jacob Stewart.
I was too far away from them to hear what they were saying, but their body language indicated that they were having an intense conversation.
Things got even more interesting when Jacob leaned in and tried to kiss Audrey…only for her to turn away from him.
Jacob looked heartbroken by the rejection. Audrey, meanwhile, walked away from him.
I was so caught up in the action on the other side of the parking lot that I didn’t notice Hope coming up behind me.
“What’s the deal with them?” Hope asked.
I nearly jumped out of my shoes. I put my hand on my chest and whirled around. “Hope. You scared me half to death.”
“Sorry. That’s my fault. I probably shouldn’t have snuck up on you. Especially given everything that has happened around here lately,” Hope said.
“Yeah. There have been enough surprises in the last few days already,” I said.
“Back to Audrey and that limo driver, though, why were you staring at them in the first place?” Hope asked.
“Because they are both potential murder suspects,” I said.
Hope’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”
I nodded. “I saw Audrey being very flirtatious with Richman the other day before his murder. I think they were sleeping together.”
Hope’s eyes widened. “Wow. Did Richman’s wife know about that?”
“I believe she did. Or, at least, she suspected something. Why else would she have fired Audrey this morning?”
“Wait. Richman’s wife fired Audrey the day after her husband’s murder?” Hope asked.
I nodded again. “Pretty interesting timing, huh?”
“You’re right. Richman’s wife must have known there was some office hanky-panky going on,” Hope said. “But what’s the deal with the limo driver?”
“Jacob clearly has a thing for Audrey. But his crush is unrequited.”
“Do you think he knows about Audrey and Richman hooking up?”
“That’s what I intend to find out,” I said. “If he did know about them—”
Hope finished my sentence. “It gives Jacob
a motive for wanting Richman dead.”
“Exactly,” I said.
“Now when you say ‘you intend to find out,’ does that mean you’re going to investigate Richman’s murder?”
“I’m just going to poke my head around and ask some questions,” I said.
Hope folded her arms and stared deep into my eyes. “Be honest. You’re going to do a whole lot more than that, aren’t you?”
I took a deep breath. “I can’t put one over on you, can I?”
Hope shook her head. “Nope. I’ve been studying your behavior and mannerisms to get this acting role right. I knew you were planning to investigate the moment I looked into your eyes.”
“Okay, fine. I admit it. I’m going to talk to all the suspects and see if I can dig up any useful information.”
“I thought you were going to leave this case to the professionals.”
“I was. But it seems like they could use some help.”
Hope did not hesitate with her response. “I’m coming with you.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. This could get dangerous,” I said.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you there’s strength in numbers?” Hope asked. “Besides, like I mentioned before, my father is a police detective. He taught me how to defend myself.”
“All right. In that case, let’s get to work,” I said.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Steven Mitchum was coming back from a coffee run when Hope and I caught up with him in the parking lot beside the production company.
“Steven, just the man we want to talk to,” I said.
His forehead wrinkled. “Me? But why?”
“It’s just so terrible about what happened to William, isn’t it?” I said.
Steven nodded. “Yeah.”
I stared deep into his eyes. “You don’t seem all that horrified.”
“It’s just that I’m still in shock,” he said.
I gave him a wary look. “Is that what it is?”
Cupcakes with a Side of Murder Page 6