by Sandi Scott
“Yes, I heard, but he said it was the star,” she replied, pointing at the detective. “That bumbling idiot wasn't a star; he wasn't even important to the show. He was just holding everyone back, with all his bungling and accidents. Chance is the star, and he was carrying that talentless dead weight and his insipid, stupid wife. The show is much better without them.”
Luna cleared his throat and tried to redirect the conversation. “Have you known Mr. Fortune long, Ms. Baumer?”
“Oh, yes,” Trina beamed. “We've been together for just ages—ever since we met on Chance's first show. We just clicked right away; it was so romantic. We're soul mates. We are destined for each other, and nothing will keep us apart.”
Ashley bit her tongue to keep from snickering at all the gooey clichés. Luna looked away, but she caught a glimpse of his eyes rolling in disbelief. “Then, you are more than Mr. Fortune's personal assistant? You have a personal relationship, an intimate one?” Luna's voice carried no inflection.
“Well, we don't make a big deal of it, but yes, we're together. That's why Chance hired me for this gig; he just can't stand for us to be apart.” Trina was smug, but Ashley couldn't help but wonder what Chance would have to say about Trina’s description of their relationship. Ashley wanted to ask why Trina was staying at a local hotel instead of at Chance's apartment if they were such a close couple, but she stayed silent. That question would only serve to shut Trina down and rile the detective.
“Were you together the night before last, when Mr. Redstaff was killed?” Luna already knew, from talking with Chance, that they weren't, but he wanted to gauge Trina's reaction.
“Chance was tired that night,” she said. “I just parked outside his apartment building—like I do every night. I watch who goes in and goes out, to make sure that Chance isn't disturbed. He deserves his peace and rest after putting up with those people all day.” Her contempt for anyone not Chance was evident.
“Did you talk to anyone while you were there?” Luna asked. “Anyone who could confirm your presence?”
“No, but I'm sure the recordings will prove that I was there. I saw the security cameras when I was guarding Chance.” Trina looked smug, but she also seemed to be getting antsy. “Are we done here? I need to get back to Chance. Besides, I don't see why you are bothering Chance and me with this trivial stuff. We have much more important things to think about.”
Luna thanked her for her time and dismissed her. He turned to Ashley. “That woman is a scary piece of work,” he said. “She didn't even hesitate to confess to stalking Fortune. If the video backs up her story, though, I guess she's just crazy, not a killer—not this time, anyway.”
“I can run over to the apartment building and pick up the tapes if you call ahead and tell the complex manager to have them ready,” Ashley offered. “I could use a break, and I can look around for Dizzy on the way.”
Luna agreed and made the call. Ashley set off, taking the chance to look down every side street for a glimpse of her dog. Even with all the side trips, the trip only took about 10 minutes to get to the building, where the manager was waiting for her.
“Is this about that weird woman who parks out front every night? She used to spend the night in the parking lot, but I told her it was private property and she had to leave. She pulled her car across the street and parked at the curb; nothing I could do about that, though,” the manager said. “I talked to the sheriff, but he said that it isn't illegal for her to sit in the car on the street as long as she didn't block traffic or harass anyone. He said he'd send a patrol deputy by a couple of times a night to make sure she was staying off our property.”
“Was she there night before last?” Ashley asked.
“Sure was,” the manager answered. “One of the residents was complaining about her that night. He saw her pull up and park, then he said she walked over and stood under the stairs for a while. He said she watched until the lights in the other unit went out, then she got back in her car and drove off.”
“And you're sure it was that night?” Ashley wanted to be sure she had it right.
“Yep, because he got back from vacation that day. He was telling me about her when he came to the office the next morning to bring me a souvenir he picked up for me.” The manager seemed certain. “I checked the tapes when the detective called; that's the date stamped on them. It was about 3:00 a.m. when she left.”
Ashley thanked him and tucked the tapes into her tote. On her way back to the mansion, she made a stop at the Humane Society shelter. “Hi,” she said. “I'm looking for my dog, Dizzy. She ran away from a friend yesterday, and I'm hoping someone found her and brought her here.”
“Oh, I'm so sorry,” the volunteer exclaimed. “No one has brought in any strays for several days.”
Ashley's heart fell. “Could I look in the back, just in case?” The volunteer agreed and opened the door for her. Ashley walked down the hallway, looking into the crates. The number of dogs she saw overwhelmed her, and they tugged at her heart, making her think about adopting another dog, but she shook her head. She knew she couldn't even let herself think that way. Dizzy hadn't even been gone for 24 hours—she was going to come home.
CHAPTER NINE
When Ashley got back to the mansion, she took the tapes into the morning room where Luna had set up playback equipment. He loaded up the tapes and they watched them together.
“Looks like Ms. Baumer was there all night,” Luna observed. “Guess that puts her in the clear.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Ashley acknowledged. “Run the tape again, though, please? I think I saw someone else from the crew—someone who wouldn't have any reason to be at that building.”
They watched again from the beginning, running the tapes forward in slow motion. “There! Pause it there,” Ashley shouted. Luna rewound the tape a bit and stopped it.
Ashley pointed, “That's Sam, the camera operator; I think someone said she's the one who found Brent's body. Who is that she's talking with, and what's she doing at Chance's building? She's staying at Seagrass Bed & Breakfast. I know that because we talked about the handmade antique quilts that Amelia has hanging in the rooms.”
Luna advanced the tape slowly. “It looks like she's giving some guy cash for a package. Do you recognize him?”
Ashley thought for a minute, “I think I've seen him around town. If I'm thinking of the right guy, he's the maintenance guy for the apartment building. I think he works there and at a couple of commercial buildings downtown. What connection would Sam have with him?”
“I believe we need to ask the lady to explain herself.” Luna sent a deputy upstairs to summon the camera operator. “Might not be related to the death, but I'm pretty leery of that kind of coincidence. Besides, sneaking around after dark to give a stranger money makes me curious about the contents of that package on its own, even without an open murder investigation.”
Sam stuck her head around the door frame. “You wanted to see me, Detective?” The attractive young woman appeared to be hiding behind large tortoiseshell glasses. Ashley barely remembered seeing her on set although she had seen the woman's work. Sam was obviously great at her job even if she, herself, was a bit forgettable.
“Yes, Ms . . .” Luna paused.
“List, Samantha List,” Sam answered. “Is something wrong?”
“Please, Ms. List, have a seat.” The detective waved her to the empty chair beside Ashley. “We have just a few questions that we think you can help us with.”
“We?” Sam looked confused. She looked over at Ashley. “I thought you were the caterer. You're with the police?”
Ashley shook her head. “No, I am the caterer, but I'm familiar with the people on the set so I'm helping the detective a little.”
Luna took back the conversation lead. “Ms. List, can you tell us where you were the night before last, about eight?”
Sam flushed and looked around the room. “Umm, I was—I think I was already home by then. Another camera operator handled
the late filming, so I left here about six o'clock. I stopped at that little diner in town for something to eat, then I went back to my room. I'm pretty sure I was back there by eight.”
“Are you sure? Please take your time to think carefully before you answer, Ms. List.” Luna's voice remained calm and nonthreatening, but it had a hint of warning in it at the same time. “You didn't make any other stops? Maybe meet up with anyone?”
Sam shook her head, but she finally ducked her head. “Well, I guess I did make one stop; I met someone outside Chance's apartment building.”
“Who was that, ma'am? And what was the meeting about?” Luna dropped his voice even lower, speaking softly enough that Ashley and Sam both had to lean in a bit to hear him.
“It was.... I was,” she stuttered, “he was just some guy I met in town a few days ago. I don't even know his name. He seemed like a nice guy, so I thought I'd drop by and remind him of my existence. I thought maybe we could go grab a drink or something.” Somehow, her words sounded more like a question than a statement.
“And what did you pay him for that evening?” Luna's words shocked Sam; she clearly wasn't expecting anything like that. “Ms. List, we have security tapes that show you exchanging cash for a package. What did you get from the apartment building's maintenance man?”
Sam fidgeted for a few seconds, trying to come up with an answer that wouldn't get her into trouble. Finally, she sighed and said, “It was some stuff from Chance's apartment. That guy stole stuff from his apartment—like his workout shirts and things he was throwing out. I was selling them, along with pictures, both online and to some celebrity rags. He's no big star so I didn't make much, but every little bit helps. This network works the system like crazy; they don't hire regular workers. We're all 'independent contractors' who get paid by the job, not by the hour, with no benefits or anything. I was trying to make enough to pay for health insurance.”
Luna frowned. “I need the footage you and your colleague shot the night before you found Mr. Redstaff. Assuming there's nothing related to his death on there, I won't mention the rest to anyone official—as long as it stops now.”
“Absolutely, Detective,” Sam agreed quickly. “I'll get the footage for you as soon as they take a break up there. And I'm done with the celebrity sales. I wasn't raised to steal, and the money's not worth the guilt I felt about it the whole time. I kept thinking about what my grandma would say if she found out.”
After Sam left the room, Ashley walked back to the food table and refilled the empty trays before packing up her things for the day and heading home. She watched for Dizzy all along her route, but there was no sign of the frisky dog. Worry about her companion felt like physical pain. She decided to work on the case, hoping it would distract her.
Sam had given them the URL for one of the celebrity wares sites so Ashley logged on. She couldn't help but laugh about some of the odd things she found listed for sell.
I can't believe there are people who would pay money for used takeout boxes from a minor celebrity. That's nasty—and how would you even know if that person was really the one who used it and threw it out? She wished she could show the site to Ryan; this was definitely something they would laugh about together. But she was still mad at him for not going after Dizzy even while she admitted that he didn't really do anything wrong. He'd been texting her updates every hour, all day long; he'd taken the whole day off to look for Dizzy, telling his clients that they would have to wait for him to finish their projects.
She heard her phone buzz and picked it up, thinking that maybe she was ready to forgive him after all. Seeing the message, she jumped up and gave a happy shriek.
They found her! Come to the shelter ASAP! Dizzy's been found!
Ashley rushed to the shelter, doing her best to stay below the speed limit and not run through stops. She texted Patty on the way to postpone the dinner get-together to another night. Pulling into the parking lot, she had the door open before the car was in park and the keys out of the ignition. She ran into the building and met the same volunteer she'd spoken to earlier.
“Hi,” the volunteer beamed. “Someone picked up your dog—Dizzy, right? They found her near Port Lavaca.”
“What? She was that far away? That's what—two counties over? That's crazy!” Ashley couldn't believe what she was hearing.
“Yeah, someone saw her walking around town earlier in the day. She was carrying a puppy by the scruff of the neck. She disappeared before he could catch up with her, but he called the local shelter to alert them. They sent a van over to the neighborhood to look around, and a little later a lady found them in her backyard inside an old doghouse. The puppy had a broken leg. She flagged down the van, and they took the dogs back to the local shelter, where they read Dizzy's microchip and found out she lives in Seagrass. One of the guys there lives in Seagrass so he brought them both back to us.”
“Oh, my!” Ashley exclaimed. “That poor puppy! Will she be okay?”
“He's going to be fine,” the volunteer explained. “Dr. Esperanza immobilized the broken leg, and she's sure the puppy is going to recover completely. The broken leg seems to be his only injury. The real problem is that he cries like crazy every time Dizzy leaves him. Would you like to meet him?”
Ashley nodded, and they headed to the back room, where Dizzy bounced all over the crate, barking her happiness at seeing “Mom.” When released from the crate, she ran up to Ashley and snuggled against her leg, but Dizzy turned back to the puppy. She moved between the pup and Ashley several times, clearly reluctant to leave the little one behind.
The front door opened and closed, and Ashley heard first Ryan's voice, then, his footsteps as he came back to where they were watching Dizzy and the puppy.
“Hey,” Ryan said, hugging Ashley. “Sorry I wasn't here when you got here; I was already on a client call, and I couldn't get a word in so I could leave. As soon as he stopped talking to get his breath, I told him I had to leave and ended the call. I'll have to do some sucking up later, but that's okay.” He knelt down and hugged Dizzy, scratching behind her ears. “Dizzy girl, what have you been up to? I missed you, girl!”
Ashley smiled. “Oh, she's been busy, all right. They found her over in Calhoun County. It seems she made a friend along the way, and she's pretty protective of him.” She explained about the puppy and about the abandoned doghouse where the two were found.
“Dr. Esperanza would like to keep Dizzy overnight,” the volunteer offered when Ashley finished with the story. “She seems to be fine, but we'd all feel better if we could keep an eye on her, just to be sure.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Ashley said reluctantly. “I hate to be separated from her for any longer, but I want what's best for her, and it sounds like being with the pros for a little longer is the best.”
“You can pick her up first thing in the morning,” the volunteer assured her. “We'll spoil her overnight, and she'll be ready for you tomorrow. In fact, why don't you let her have a doggie spa day, and you can pick her up later in the afternoon—our treat for the great job she did taking care of the puppy.”
“Sounds like Dizzy's going to be more pampered than I am,” Ashley laughed. “Okay, Dizzy, I'll see you in the morning. You be good for the staff, and take care of your puppy friend.”
Ryan walked out to the parking lot with Ashley. “Ash, I'm so sorry I let Dizzy get away from me.”
Ashley interrupted, “Ryan, it's okay. I know she gets rambunctious sometimes. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you. She's run away from me at the beach before, too. I was just scared for her, and I took it out on you when I shouldn't have. I'm the one who's sorry!”
They talked a few minutes more, and Ashley knew things were right between them again. Her mood was considerably lighter, and she remembered the celebrity sale site. “Hey, would you like to come by the house?” She laughed, “You've got to see this hilarious website I found. You'll never believe what's on there!”
Ryan agreed and followed her
back to the cozy cottage. After Ashley updated Ryan on the case, they snuggled together on the couch and watched the local news reporters fawn over Chance Fortune, snickering at how ridiculous it all was. Finally, the lost sleep of the past few nights caught up with Ashley, and she fell asleep there on the couch, comfortable with Ryan's presence beside her, forgetting all about showing him the website.
CHAPTER TEN
Sunlight peeking through the French doors leading to the deck and garden at the back of the cottage woke Ashley the next morning. Ryan had pulled an afghan over both of them before apparently dozing off on the couch as well. She stood up and stretched, then headed to the kitchen to start the coffee.
“Good morning,” Ryan called sleepily. “Wow! I haven't slept that soundly in a while. Sorry to crash on you; I guess we were both pretty tired.”
Ashley smiled at him from the kitchen doorway. “Yeah, the last few days have been a little intense, between the murder and Dizzy's adventure. Besides, I didn't mind cuddling on the couch with you even if we did miss the movie we were going to watch.”
“Hey, we've seen it how many times? I don't think we missed all that much,” Ryan said. “Are you hungry? How about I take you to breakfast before you head to work?”
“That sounds great,” Ashley answered. “Give me a half hour to shower and get dressed, then we can head out.”
“Before you do, what was that website you were going to show me?” Ryan opened the laptop resting on the coffee table and turned on the power.
“Oh, yeah,” Ashley laughed. “I forgot about that. You won't believe some of the stuff for sale there.”
As they browsed the site, they did share quite a few laughs over the items displayed. “Can you believe someone is bidding on the empty toilet paper roll from that band guy? More than one 'someone,' in fact,” Ryan snickered. “And look at the price so far. That's just insane!”