After he hung up, Dave turned to Ian and I. "Well, the network’s sure annoyed about this hold-up."
"A girl was killed," Ian said, sounding shocked at Dave's callousness.
Dave shrugged. Today, he hadn't bothered to put on his mask of friendly cheerfulness. He looked like someone had run over his dog, and he tossed his phone onto the desk. "I know. It's tragic. But it's especially tragic for me. How far have you two gotten?"
He looked at us with a glimmer of hope at that last question, and I wondered just how desperate Dave was to get the show to succeed. Would he have killed Brenna if he thought she could harm the show in any way?
"We've been talking to some people," I said vaguely. "But some of them haven't been too forthcoming. Could you ask them to have a chat with us?"
Dave nodded morosely. "Have you talked to Brenna's brother yet?"
I shook my head. "I thought we should talk to people on the set first. And like I said–"
Before I could finish my sentence, there was a loud knock on the door, and Bruce burst in.
"I need to talk to you right now," Bruce said. He turned and shot us a dirty look. "In private. It's urgent."
Dave looked at Bruce with unenthusiastic eyes, and he nodded at Ian and I. "We can talk later."
"Which one is Taylor's room?" I said.
“The one next to mine, just turn left."
"Okay. We'll come talk to you after we've had a chat with Taylor."
As we stepped out of Dave's room, Ian said, "I wonder what Bruce had to talk to him about that was so urgent?"
I shrugged. Dave's melancholy had rubbed off on me. "He probably wants to convince Dave to fire us, so the police can do a better job."
Chapter 16
Ian and I knocked on Taylor's door, and when we heard her call out, "Come in," we stepped inside.
It looked as though Taylor's room was larger than Ian's, and she had taken the time to make it look more inviting. There were framed photos of herself and another girl on a writing desk that had been shoved against one wall, and Taylor had pushed a chair against the far wall, and placed a scented candle on it. The candle burned gently, and the delicate floral scent filled the air.
Taylor was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her back against the wall, an e-reader in her hand.
She looked up at us and when she smiled, her right cheek dimpled. "I guess you're here to talk to me about Brenna's death. Dave told us you’d go around talking to everyone."
Ian and I lowered ourselves onto the floor opposite her, and we copied her cross-legged position awkwardly. While Taylor looked elegant and relaxed, Ian and I probably looked like couch potatoes who’d shown up at their first yoga lesson.
"You look really good today," Ian said.
Taylor smiled at him sweetly. "Thanks, that's so nice of you to say. I can’t stop thinking about what happened. I didn't get much sleep last night, but they told us all to come in today–I hope one of the makeup artists covers up my dark circles."
"You don't have any dark circles," Ian said, and I had to agree with him. Taylor looked flawless–she didn't seem to be wearing any make-up, but she practically glowed.
Taylor smiled and turned to me. "How's your investigation going?"
I shrugged. "We've just started. And I'm sure the cops will move a lot faster than us–they've got a forensic team, after all."
Taylor nodded. "That handsome Detective Ryan was talking to me the other day. I told him everything I knew, but I might as well repeat it all for you again."
"I appreciate you taking the time to talk to us," I said, ignoring her comment about Ryan being handsome. "Especially since a lot of people think that Brenna's death benefits you."
Taylor didn't take any offense. "I wasn't all that keen on getting through to the final rounds. I mean, I thought it’d be fun to enter a reality show, but I talked to a few people before I joined the show, and I'm a bit worried actually about how intense some of the competitors become. Some people think that winning a show like this will get them fame or wealth. I don't think that's the case. I just thought it would be fun to try out and see what happens. There's no way I could actually kill someone to get ahead. I just—I can’t believe…"
Her eyes welled up, and she looked like she was going to start crying again.
Quickly, I said, "And where were you when Brenna was killed?"
She blinked back her tears and took a deep breath. "I was in my room, hanging out by myself. The cops asked the same thing–I know a couple of people were hanging out after the shooting, but I just wanted to decompress and listen to some music."
"Did you talk to Brenna before she died?"
"Yeah, we talked a bit. We were the only two girls to enter the show, and I thought that maybe we could both get through. Brenna told me they like to have an equal ratio of men and women on shows like this, and from this round, it’d most likely be either two women and one man, or two men and one of the women. Of course, in the end, they went with the two guys and one girl theme–not that I was bothered."
I nodded, and stayed silent, giving her time to remember her conversation.
"Anyway," she went on after a short pause, "Brenna and I chatted a bit. We talked about the kind of makeup they expect you to wear on shows like this, and then we talked about guys a bit, and what we would do to win the show."
"What guys?"
Taylor shrugged. "Brenna and I were both single. I wasn't looking for a boyfriend, and neither was Brenna–but she told me that guys are really persistent in Vegas."
"Some people saw Brenna talking to Chuck before the show. Did she say anything about that to you?"
Taylor nodded. "She said Chuck was hitting on her, and she wasn't interested."
I raised one eyebrow. "Did you tell this to the cops?"
Taylor nodded. "At first, I thought I’d try to protect Chuck. This probably looks bad for him. But then again, he's not a friend of mine or anything. He must be kind of a playboy, being a popular director and all. It probably meant nothing."
I nodded, even though it might’ve meant something–especially given that Brenna had been killed soon afterward. "What exactly did Brenna say?"
"Just that Chuck had asked her out, and she told him she wasn't interested, and he didn't seem pleased about it. Brenna said she hoped there’d be no more trouble from him, but she assumed that either she'd get cut from the show, or once they did another round with new entrants, Chuck would find somebody else to get interested in."
"Did she seemed concerned about it?"
Taylor shook her head. "No, we just talked about how most guys are all the same. They usually get the hint after a bit."
I thought about Gavin, and how, for so long, he wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Did you talk about anything else?"
"Random girly things—makeup, TV shows we watched, things like that."
"Did Brenna talked about her ex-boyfriend, or any of her friends in Vegas?"
Taylor shook her head, no. "We had to rush off to do hair and makeup before the show."
"What do you think about Bruce, the cameraman?" Ian asked.
Taylor turned to look at him. "Why?" She glanced off to one side, thinking about what she knew. "I haven’t talked to him much. He seems a bit… strange. I noticed him watching me the other day, but maybe he was just thinking about how to frame the shots and what I would look like on camera, things like that. He did seem a bit creepy, though."
"And what do you think about Dave?"
Taylor smiled. "He seems nice! And very, uh, excited about the show."
I bit back a laugh. "That's one way to put it."
Taylor nodded. "He's a bit over the top, but I can understand–apparently, he really needs the show to succeed, or he might not get to work on another show."
"And has he ever mentioned anything to you about Brenna, or anyone else on the show?"
Taylor shook her head. "He mentioned that he thinks he selected a good team to work with, but apart
from that, he hasn't talked about anyone in particular."
We chatted with Taylor a bit more, trying to find out if she remembered anything odd about anyone on the set at all, but she couldn't think of anything else. So finally, Ian and I said our goodbyes and headed off. We would try to talk to Ryan before work on the set started again.
Chapter 17
We stepped out into the hallway, and immediately saw Chuck walking slowly in our direction.
He was lost in thought; it took him a split second before he registered Ian’s and my presence–and as soon as he did, he spun round on his heel and walked off rapidly in the opposite direction.
Ian made a face. "He's being real subtle about not wanting to talk to us."
I felt a surge of grumpiness. "It's almost as though he doesn't want to talk to us just to be spiteful."
"Maybe he had something to do with Brenna's death and he's worried we’ll be able to get it out of him."
I shook my head. "You can't force someone to talk to you. If he’s that serious about keeping to himself, perhaps we should let him be."
"I'm not giving up that easily," Ian said, walking after Chuck quickly.
I had no choice but to keep up with Ian, and soon we found ourselves in the cafeteria, where Chuck had tried to take refuge.
The cafeteria was empty today–the second cameraman, Pete, was sitting by himself at one of the tables, but no one else was around. The breakfast spread had been cleared off, and the bright lights and faint hint of pine air freshener made the place seem lonely and barren.
Pete looked up at us when we entered and smiled, and then he went back to doing whatever he was doing on his smartphone. Chuck had his back to us, and was pouring himself a mug of coffee.
Ian and I went up to Chuck, and Ian said in a faux-bright, persistent voice, "Hi Chuck! It's great to see you again."
Chuck finished pouring his coffee, and glanced disinterestedly at Ian and I. "Yeah."
"Do you have time for a quick chat?" Ian said.
Chuck shook his head rapidly, not even bothering to think about the question. "I've gotta go make an important call."
And then he turned round and stalked off. He didn’t bother to say goodbye, or make up an excuse about talking to us later.
I pursed my lips as I watched him walk off. The funny thing was that I believed he had nothing to do with Brenna's death–if he did, he’d have tried to be a bit more subtle about not enjoying our presence.
No, the man was just rude by nature.
"We might as well get something to drink now that we're here," Ian said, glancing over at the buffet.
A small lunch spread had been served, but it was too early for heavy food. And the lunch foods only included a Caesar salad, sliced bread, small wrapped-up butter pats, some cold meats, and a tray of roasted vegetables. It didn't look that enticing, and I hoped more food would be served before lunchtime actually hit. There was, however, a tray of mini cheesecakes. I helped myself to one and grabbed a mug of coffee, as did Ian, and then we joined Pete at his table.
"I've had one of those mini cheesecakes," Pete said, "and they are absolutely delicious!"
I bit into mine, and I nodded in agreement. They were lemon cheesecakes, with just a hint of lemony tanginess coupled with a creamy, sweet cheesy layer. "And they go so well with this strong coffee."
"When are we starting shooting today?" Ian said.
Pete shrugged. "I haven't heard anything. Neither has anyone else."
"I guess you don't have to talk to the cops," I said, taking another bite of the delicious cheesecake. "Seeing how you were with everyone on stage at the time when Brenna died."
"They still took a quick statement from me," Pete said. "I haven't seen any of the cops around today. I think they're all out interviewing Brenna's roommate and her brother."
"Did you have a chance to talk to Brenna before the show?" I asked.
"No, not really. But I noticed that she talked to Chuck, and that conversation didn't seem to go so well."
I nodded. "Yeah, we heard about that."
"Did you know that Chuck's got a reputation for being a ladies’ man?" Ian asked.
Pete smiled. "This is Hollywood. Almost every director or big shot who’s straight is a ladies’ man."
I twisted my lips, but I knew the truth of his statement. "Did you see Brenna talking to anyone else?"
Pete leaned back in his chair and his eyes narrowed slightly. "You know, it's a funny thing. I'd almost forgotten about this–I was busy setting things up with Bruce, and then Brenna stopped by to say hello to Bruce. I didn't hear much of the conversation, and it seemed pretty boring stuff–how did you like Vegas, wasn't it different from LA, that kind of thing. But I think she said something else–something like, ‘funny seeing you again.’"
"I didn't realize Brenna and Bruce knew each other from before."
Pete shook his head. "I might have misheard, and of course, even if she'd said that she'd seen Bruce before, it doesn't really mean they'd known each other."
Ian nodded. "Maybe they’d met at a bar or she'd seen him at the airport, something like that."
"Yeah, it might not mean anything. And I never saw Bruce act like he knew her or like he was particularly friendly with her."
I nodded slowly, but I wondered if there was something to this. Was Bruce avoiding us and angry about the investigation because he knew Brenna from before? If they had some kind of relationship outside of the set, he might have had a reason to want her dead. The man was hiding something, and we needed to find out what that was.
Chapter 18
Pete couldn't think of anything else he'd seen or heard Brenna do that day before shooting started, so after a while, we ended up talking about Hollywood in general, and what it was like to try to rise through the ranks.
When we finished our coffees and mini cheesecakes, Ian and I got up to go find Bruce and talk to him.
But we didn't have to go far. We'd barely taken a few steps toward the cafeteria door, when Bruce showed up.
He looked surprised to see the emptiness of the room. "Where is everyone?" he said.
"Beats me if I know," Pete said. "Are we ready to get rolling?"
Bruce shook his head. "I'm not feeling too well. Shooting’s canceled for the day. I guess we'll send a mass text to the crew."
I peered at Bruce closely. He looked perfectly normal, his eyes were healthy and bright and his skin didn't look flushed or sweaty.
"You look fine to me," Ian said, echoing my thoughts. "What happened?"
Bruce glared at him. "My medical history is none of your business. Anyway, I'm out of here."
He left before either one of us could say another word, and I sighed. If things continued at this rate, Ian and I wouldn't be able to find out anything useful at all.
"Don't worry, Tiff," Ian said, glancing at my downcast expression. "I'm sure he'll feel better soon, and then we can go talk to him."
"You're right,” I said in a low voice. “And Pete might have heard wrong. Bruce might be just a grumpy person, not someone who's trying to hide secrets."
Ian and I started off toward Dave's room, but when we were a few feet away, we saw Ryan stepping out of the room and closing the door behind himself.
He smiled at us politely, and I took a few wary steps forward. I wasn't sure where we stood, and I said, "How are you?"
"Busy," Ryan said. "I spent the morning talking to Brenna's brother and her roommate. And now, I've got to talk to the crew members a bit more, just to see if we've overlooked anything."
Ian asked, "And did you learn anything new?"
Ryan just smiled and shook his head. "You know I can't talk to you guys about an open case."
"That means you didn't," Ian said doggedly. "I'm sure if you knew anything, you’d tell us."
"Did you guys learn anything?"
Ian hesitated and looked at me.
I said, "We learned that Chuck is a womanizer. Apparently, he hit on Brenna before she die
d, and she didn't appreciate it."
Ryan twisted his lips. "This is Hollywood, every other guy out there is a womanizer. I wouldn't read too much into it."
"And what does Chuck have to say about it?"
Ryan was silent for a split second, as though trying to judge how much to tell me. I fully expected him to refuse to say anything, but then he surprised me. "He says he did approach her, but when she wasn't interested, he said that was fine, and left her alone. He says there would've been lots of new female contestants, and he wasn't bothered by Brenna's lack of interest."
"And you believe him?"
Ryan shrugged. "I'm not ruling out anything, but I don't think that just because you approached a woman and got rejected, you'd go ahead and kill her."
"I agree with you," Ian said. "If I had to kill every woman who rejected me, I'd be a serial killer by now."
"You shouldn't joke about being a serial killer in front of a police officer," I said, smiling at Ian.
Ryan’s eyes twinkled with silent laughter. "It's okay, I know all about Ian's track record with women."
"What do you think about the case?" I said, finally overcoming my hesitation. "It seems really weird to me that someone killed Brenna on set."
Ryan nodded. "It makes me think that whoever killed her had nothing to do with the show. Dave keeps insisting that it couldn’t be anyone from his crew, that someone must've come in through the unmonitored back door, and I'm starting to agree with him."
"But she didn't have a boyfriend or anything like that."
Ryan nodded. "I'm still looking into her personal life. According to her brother, she had no serious relationships of any kind, and he didn't know anyone who might want to hurt her or who didn't like her."
"We haven't talked to her brother yet," Ian said. "How is he taking it?"
Ryan pursed his lips and shook his head. "I don't like you going and bothering a grieving man. He's doing about as well as you can expect, given the circumstances."
Zombie Cash Run in Las Vegas: A Lighthearted Tiffany Black Mystery (Tiffany Black Mysteries Book 12) Page 9