Seams Like Murder
Page 5
“I think it’s more accurate to say who was it. But I haven’t got a clue.”
“CeeCee must know, then,” he said.
We’d reached the bottom of the stairs, and he was leading the way back to the gate. “I wouldn’t bet on it,” I said.
“You’re kidding. CeeCee doesn’t know who that is?”
“That’s what she said to me. She is sure it isn’t her niece, though. You got a pretty good look. Was it a man or woman?”
He looked at me. “No, we’re not doing this again. I ask the questions, and you answer.” He went toward the driveway, and I followed. A green Jaguar was stopped just outside the gate, and I recognized Tony Bonnard’s brilliant white hair as he stuck his head out and punched in a code. The gate began to slide open, and Barry nudged me.
“Who’s that?”
“I guess you’re not a soap opera fan,” I said with a smile. Barry gave me his cop face in return. “He’s CeeCee’s boyfriend.” Barry’s eyes widened, and the cop face broke.
“You’re calling him her boyfriend, but you wouldn’t call me your boyfriend? He’s older than I am, so the term is even more ridiculous!”
“It’s her term, not mine. And maybe she has another term for him now. We think he might be living here.” Once the gate was fully open, the Jaguar pulled in and Tony stuck his head out, lifting his sunglasses and showing off his crystal blue eyes.
“Leave the gate open,” Barry commanded. Tony did a double take and looked to me.
“What’s going on, and who is he?”
CHAPTER 6
In no time the driveway and the street in front of CeeCee’s were flooded with police cruisers, a paramedic fire truck and a fire department ambulance. Although Barry did get them to arrive without sirens. I was a little surprised at the arrival of the paramedics. Could there possibly be any doubt that the victim was dead?
I was expecting to tag along with Barry as he took Tony to the house, but when Barry introduced himself, he gave me a squinty-eyed stare, making it clear I wasn’t to blurt out anything else. Not that I had much of a chance, anyway—Barry waved over a very serious-looking young male officer and told him to take my statement. Then, before I could protest, he and Tony were already on the way to the house.
My officer was all business as he took out a metal clipboard with sheets attached to the top. “Molly Pink,” I said before he asked for my name. He seemed confused about my volunteered information. “It’s my name,” I added. He still appeared flummoxed, and not altogether happy. I’m sure he’d been taught in the police academy that he was supposed to be in charge, and here I was taking over and offering information before it was asked for.
“This isn’t my first crime scene,” I said. “In fact, I’m surprised you don’t have my information on file.” It was my attempt at a joke, but the officer didn’t crack a smile. Instead, he threw me an annoyed scowl. “Actually, crime scene probably isn’t the right term. I mean, if the cause of death is carbon monoxide, it could be an accident.”
The cop ignored what I said and asked what I was doing at CeeCee’s and how we came across the victim. “Well, the Tarzana Hookers had come to help one of our own,” I began. His cop face gave way to a moment of surprise at the name of the group.
“So, you’re saying CeeCee Collins was operating some kind of prostitution ring out of her house?” he said.
“That’s Hookers as in crochet.” I reached in my pocket for a crochet hook to show him, but he put his hand out to stop me.
“Keep your hands where I can see them,” he ordered.
“What?” I said, surprised. “You don’t think I’m a sus—”
“Ma’am, we’re just taking statements,” he interrupted. “As far as we’re concerned, everybody could be a suspect.” He asked for the identity of the victim and made a slight tsk sound when I said I had no idea, as if he didn’t believe me. Finally, he finished up, pointed toward the gate, and told me I could go.
“But I’d really like to go see my friends. I’m sure they’re very upset.” I took a step toward the house, but he stopped me.
“Orders are to get your statement and see you out. You’ll have to check on your friends by phone.” He took my arm and escorted me to the gate.
I hung around the front for a few moments, looking toward CeeCee’s. I was about to accept that there was nothing more I could do when I saw a cop walking Babs toward the gate. When she reached me, she was muttering to herself and seemed in a state.
“This would never happen back home. Being questioned by the police at a movie star’s home!” She shook her head a few times, as if trying to make sense of the situation, and then looked up and noticed me.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Fine. I’m fine,” she said. But her cadence was too fast, and her tone didn’t go with the words. I wasn’t feeling that great myself. True, it wasn’t the first time I’d come across a body, but there are some things you never get used to. Still, I was in better shape than she was.
“Why don’t I walk you home,” I offered. Babs’s face relaxed, and it seemed like she let out her breath. Barry had managed to keep the police cars’ and the fire truck’s arrival quiet, but he couldn’t control the media. I heard one news helicopter then another take up positions above us. I could tell they were news helicopters, not police, because of the way they hovered in the air—for some reason hovering helicopters were far noisier than circling ones. A body found at a celebrity’s house was kind of a dream story for the media.
“We don’t want to see ourselves on television,” I said, taking Babs’s arm and starting to walk away from the gate.
Babs looked up at the helicopters. “They can’t really see us, can they?”
“Are you kidding? With the cameras they have, they can practically see the polka dots on your bikini while you swim in your own pool.”
“How terrible.” She looked down at what she was wearing as if evaluating how it would look on a news report. “I’ll take you up on your offer. It would be very nice if you’d walk with me. All this has been a little much.” She gave me a spontaneous hug, which I returned before looking out at the street.
“Which way?” I asked.
“My son’s place is on Stargazer Lane,” she said, as if I knew where that was.
“That’s a lovely name for a street, but you’ll have to direct me. I don’t know the street names around here.”
“Sure, follow me,” she said. Babs started to walk across CeeCee’s driveway, and I followed as she stepped onto the grassy strip between the street and a giant hedge that surrounded CeeCee’s property. I looked up at the wall of green—it had to be ten feet tall.
“Funny how I never noticed this before. I guess it blended into the scenery.” I shrugged it off then explained to Babs that I usually just parked in front of the house on Greenleaf Drive and went in without much regard to the surrounding area. I’d never even noticed that Greenleaf Drive wrapped around the side of CeeCee’s property before. As we walked, I tried to imagine what was on the other side of the hedge, inside the yard. The wall of bushes made it so that from out here, I couldn’t see CeeCee’s house or anything else to orient myself and figure out what we were passing. I don’t think Babs paid any attention to what I was saying. Her mind was still on what had happened.
“It has to have been some kind of accident,” Babs said. “But don’t you think it’s strange that CeeCee didn’t know who the person was? How could somebody be up there without her knowing?”
“I don’t know how it happened,” I said. “The front gate has locks now. CeeCee got them a few years ago—she didn’t bother with much security before she got the reality show and then the movie.”
“See?” Babs said, pointing ahead to where Greenleaf Drive ended at a cross street. “That’s Stargazer Lane.”
When we got to the intersection, I stopp
ed, looked to the left, and saw that the hedge continued on across what I now realized was the back of CeeCee’s property. Babs saw me surveying the area.
“When I first got here, I thought it was some kind of private park,” she said. I could understand why—from the street all you could see was some trees. The garage and house were totally blocked from sight.
“CeeCee’s place is really an island,” I said.
“No, it’s more of a peninsula,” Babs corrected, pointing out that there was a neighbor on the other side of CeeCee’s property. “It’s hard to give names to the shapes of yards around here. In Iowa City, the houses are all on rectangular plots.
“You can’t see my son’s house from here, but it’s the third one down from where Greenleaf ends at Stargazer,” Babs continued, pointing at the other side of the street. The houses were all behind ornate walls and had lots of old trees in the yards. I could also see some tall light fixtures and a wire fence with something green inside it. A tennis court, perhaps. Babs started to say something about being okay to go the rest of the way on her own, but a rumbling sound interrupted.
I looked across the street and saw that the gate on the property farther down had begun to slide open. A white BMW SUV drove out and went past us, then screeched to a stop and backed up until it was next to us. The darkened window opened, and a blond woman wearing sunglasses stuck her head out. I noticed she had a tattoo on her finger and realized it was Pia Sawyer—I’d seen it when she pointed at me that morning at CeeCee’s.
I didn’t understand tattoos, especially on middle-aged women. Young people might not realize that someday their tattoos were going to fade and their skin was going to sag, making that eagle look like it had a potbelly, but anyone my age should have figured that out already. I couldn’t quite tell what Pia’s was supposed to be—maybe a rose twined around her finger. Or was it a snake?
“What’s going on?” Pia asked. “Those helicopters are making all the dogs howl.”
“You won’t believe what happened after you left.” Babs had recovered from her shock and once again turned into the town crier as she gave Pia all the gory details. I suppose Pia’s eyes must have widened with surprise, but I couldn’t tell, since she was wearing sunglasses. Before Babs had even gotten out all the details, Pia had her cell phone out and was calling somebody. I considered admonishing her about dialing and driving, but despite being in the middle of the street, the SUV wasn’t going anywhere. I heard her telling somebody to come outside right away, then she threw the phone down on the seat and pulled the BMW to the curb.
The gate to the property in front of us opened with a loud groan, and Pia’s almost-twin Kelsey ran out. She was a little taller than Pia, but they were so similarly styled and dressed that they really looked the same. Babs tried to interrupt, but Pia was already telling her version of the story. And, like in a game of telephone, it had already changed. Pia claimed the body had rolled down the stairs as we were on our way up. “Like it was some kind of zombie,” she said with a shiver.
Before I could correct her, I was distracted by a sports car that turned onto the street and pulled up to the curb next to us. The door opened, and Kelsey made a move toward the man who got out. I had only seen Evan Willis a few times at school events and some business things with Charlie, and that had been years ago, but I recognized him right away. As he got closer, I could see that although his wife had been able to hide the passage of time with a trendy hairstyle and probably facial injections, he hadn’t been so successful.
It wasn’t that he had a lot of lines on his face or that his hair was thinning—to the contrary, it was mostly dark, and the combed-back style seemed almost luxuriant. I think it was the expression of his dark eyes. They seemed strained, but I suppose years of being an executive at a studio would do that to you.
“Evan, there’s a dead body at CeeCee Collins’s house.” Kelsey waved her arm in my direction. “Polly here almost got hit by the body as it rolled down the stairs.”
“What?” The tired look left his eyes, and he gave his head a short shake, as if trying to clear it. “A body rolling down the stairs? Are the cops there?”
I stepped forward. “It’s Molly,” I corrected. “Molly Pink. You worked on some projects with my husband, Charlie.”
It took a moment for what I said to sink in, and his face grew serious. “Sure, I remember Charlie Pink. We did work on a number of things together. I was sorry to hear about his death. He was a good man.”
I always felt awkward at moments like this. It had been a few years, and while I would never stop missing Charlie, I had learned to accept the situation. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say beyond agreeing, so I just nodded.
Kelsey and Pia were fidgeting, impatient with the attention Evan was giving me and being left out of the conversation.
“Should we do something?” Kelsey said. “The cops are there, aren’t they?” She looked at me and Babs for reassurance.
“Do you know what happened and who it is?” Evan asked. “Should we be worried that there’s a killer on the loose?”
I began by giving him the real story. There was no body rolling down the stairs. I mentioned the heat, the carbon monoxide alarm and the condition of the body. Kelsey and Pia looked a little green in the face when I got to the part about the smell.
Evan let out an understanding grunt and started to herd the women out of the street. “Other than the annoyance of the helicopters, I don’t think it’s our concern.” He looked back at me as he went to his car. “I’m sorry you had to see that. It must have been very upsetting.”
I accepted his words with another nod, and he got in his car and continued up his driveway to the garage. Kelsey returned to their house as well, and Pia took off down the street in her SUV.
Babs had been very quiet during the whole exchange. When they were gone, she turned to me. “They’re not very neighborly. In Iowa City, we always bring over something tasty when someone has troubles. I’m going to take a casserole over to CeeCee’s as soon as the cops leave.”
Babs couldn’t see it, but I made a face imagining how welcome her visit would be. Though if she brought food, CeeCee probably would let her in. “You might want to bring her some more of your brownies. I heard they were a big hit.”
Even though she said I didn’t have to, I walked her the rest of the way to her son’s house, which was a few houses down from Pia’s. Like the others, it had a big fence and an electric gate. She punched some numbers into a keypad, and the gate slid open. I followed her in. Since I’d come this far, I might as well go all the way.
Plus, I was curious to see what was behind the fence. I was busy checking out the exterior of the huge beige stucco house and the surrounding yard when I heard Babs making a tsking sound. I followed her gaze and saw two women standing over two toddlers who were being instructed on how to kick a soccer ball.
“I know my son has his own financial management company and his wife is a dermatologist, but really, two nannies? There’s one for each kid. I don’t know why my son even wanted me to come here.” Her open, friendly face appeared distressed. “Those kids are so overprogrammed. I can’t believe that my son doesn’t want them to have the time for fun and imagination that he had. When he was that age, he could spend hours with a cardboard box.” She composed herself. “I have so much time on my hands. Other than the one night when they let me babysit, I might as well not be here.”
I put my hand on her shoulder in a supportive gesture. “I don’t know if you’re interested in crochet, but you’re welcome to join the Hookers. I’m not really qualified to teach you how to crochet, but I’m sure one of the others would be happy to do it.”
“I know how to knit,” she said.
“You might want to keep that to yourself,” I said, thinking of how Adele twitched when Babs had mentioned it earlier.
“Okay, then. When do I start?”
“Are you busy tonight?” I asked Babs.
CHAPTER 7
When I returned to get my car, the Channel 3 news van was set up in the street in front of CeeCee’s, and the anchor, Kimberly Wang Diaz, was adjusting her skirt, getting ready to go live. She saw me and started walking toward me. We’d met numerous times under similar circumstances, and she seemed to think of me as being a crime scene groupie, which was a totally absurd term. It had certainly never been my choice to deal with dead bodies. They just seem to keep showing up. I waved her off, yelling, “No comment,” before jumping into my blue green vintage Mercedes. I’d like to say I sped off, but vintage is another word for old, and the greenmobile, as I called it, had lost some of its zip over the years.
When I finally got to the bookstore, Mrs. Shedd was in the front of the store helping a customer pay for some yarn. As the woman walked out of the store, Mrs. Shedd came over to me. “Oh good, you’re finally here. We had to make do without you—the woman that just left signed up for the beginning crochet class and bought her supplies. Just before her a woman came in to buy the supplies for Sheila’s class. I’m glad she knew what kid mohair yarn was. I didn’t realize how expensive that yarn is.” She paused as several customers came in the door and walked past us. “Sheila’s class is getting a lot of interest. She’s all ready to teach it, right?”