Tawas Goes Hollywood

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Tawas Goes Hollywood Page 7

by Madison Johns


  “You could always put on a disguise,” Eileen suggested. “It would be great research for our roles.”

  “But we don’t even know where she is right now, do we?” I asked.

  “She’s staying at a place called Bambi’s Motel or something along those lines.”

  “That’s south of town,” Eleanor said, “but it might be better to lure her out to the beach so we won’t look too out of place.”

  “Or I could call her and ask her to meet us somewhere more public. Do you have any suggestions?” Eileen asked.

  “Tim Hortons works for me,” I said. “They sell coffee and doughnuts.”

  “We’ll go through the set apparel and see what we can find for you to wear,” Hannah said. “This will be fun.”

  “You’ll have to ask her if she’s really Louis’s niece. And you could tell her the rumor is that investigators found out that’s not the truth,” I suggested.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll be able to handle this.” Eileen winked.

  Eleanor and I followed Eileen and Hannah to the costume trailer, where they held up various pieces of clothing. I ripped out a pair of bib overalls. “What is this for?”

  “For one of the extras to wear,” Hannah said. “Why don’t people in town wear clothing like that?”

  I gripped the hangar until my knuckles were white. “I don’t suppose anyone came to Michigan to research this movie, because nobody I know would be caught dead in this in Tawas. Farmers wear jeans and tees and possibly hiking type boots, but that’s in Tawas City more and in the outskirts. I wish they would portray a few scenes in those areas as Eleanor and I often go there to investigate.”

  “We’d better head over to Tim Hortons, so men’s clothing it is,” Hannah said.

  Eleanor and I looked at one another, and I must admit that although I’m not a vain person I drew the line at wearing men’s clothing. I hitched up the men’s trousers and tried unsuccessfully to tuck in the plaid shirt. Plaid seemed to be having a comeback this year, so I didn’t bother giving them any flack about that. But one thing was for certain: I planned to take the entire collection of bib overalls home with me so they wouldn’t create a faux pas in town once the movie was seen.

  ELEANOR AND I SAT IN a corner booth at Tim Hortons with our coffee and doughnuts as we waited for Eileen and Hannah to appear with Ivy Green, who I hoped would speak freely.

  I took a sip of my coffee. It tasted like dirt. It could have been from the dirt on my cheeks. Eleanor smeared dirt on my face on the way inside.

  “I hope nobody recognizes us,” I whispered to Eleanor, who glanced down at the table, the straw hat covering her face completely. The hats would be added to the gone-missing list from the movie wardrobe.

  I glanced over at Eileen. “I’ll purchase the coffee if you’d like to sit down.”

  Hannah led Ivy to a nearby booth, but not too close. Ivy was facing away from us.

  Eileen carried a tray to the table and they took their time taking a sip of their coffee.

  “This latte is great,” Ivy said. “I think an order should be placed every morning from here.”

  “That might hurt Heather’s feelings. She prides herself on her coffee and breakfast items,” Eileen said.

  “I must admit Heather’s coffee comes in second,” Ivy said. “Today was something wasn’t it?”

  “It was awful,” Hannah said. “It must have been awful when you found Louis like that.”

  “I was in shock, but I’ve recovered now. Have you heard anything about Louis’s replacement? The director needs a first assistant.”

  “I imagine Brianne will be taking that job over.”

  “But she’s the second assistant and does a completely different job. She’s more of a personal assistant.”

  “Are you suggesting that you’d be a good replacement?” Eileen asked.

  “I’ve worked with Louis enough to know the in’s and out’s of being a director’s first assistant.”

  “Isn’t it a little premature to be talking about this when Louis just died?” Hannah asked. “I thought you were close to Louis.”

  “I suppose I was.”

  “Didn’t he take you in?” Eileen asked.

  “Only because I’m his niece.”

  “Word has it that’s not true,” Eileen suggested.

  “Whose word? I challenge anyone who is spreading lies like that.”

  “Even if it’s the director?” I jumped up and confronted Ivy. “She had you investigated.”

  Ivy glanced up at me lazily. “Then why wasn’t I fired?”

  “Perhaps because Louis felt sorry for you.”

  “Say what you want, old lady, but don’t think for a moment I killed Louis.”

  “Well, seeing as how you all but think you should have his job as first assistant, who on earth would ever think that?” I laughed sarcastically. “If I were Amim, I’d fire you.”

  Eleanor jumped into the fray “It’s not like you’re needed now with Louis dead.”

  “I have assurance that I can’t be fired.”

  Eleanor cackled. “That probably won’t hold if you’re a suspect if this turns out to be a murder investigation.”

  “And it’s not like you’re grieving Louis’s death,” I said as I walked out the door.

  “What a smart-mouthed girl,” Eleanor said once we were back in the car. “She is misguided about her worth. Why would Amim give her Louis’s job? She’s delusional.”

  “Maybe so, but if somehow she is given the job or kept on as part of the crew I will have serious doubts about the director.”

  “Who is really running the show, though?” Eleanor asked. “Roman might have given Ivy the assurances.”

  “But Andrew said Amim has creative control over everything, including the script. I plan to call Roman on it if she continues to work on this movie.”

  “Do you really think we should get this involved, Agnes?”

  “I can’t help it. I feel personally vested in finding out what happened to Louis.”

  “At least Amim was upset to hear of Louis’s death.”

  “Although she didn’t mention he was her father.”

  “You doubt it?”

  “I’m not in the position to doubt it, yet. I would think if there was any truth to it that Amim would have mentioned it.”

  “She did say he was like a father to her.”

  “I’m ready to call it a day and regroup tomorrow. Did you really need to throw that much dirt on me?”

  “Sorry,” Eleanor said with a wicked smile.

  Chapter Eight

  Eleanor and I sat on her deck enjoying the morning sunshine. Roman called Andrew late last night, expressing his regret in learning of Louis’s death. Andrew told me that filming would begin today. But to be honest I wasn’t looking forward to it. I felt there should be a mourning period before something as major as shooting a movie commenced.

  “So what are our plans for the day?” Eleanor asked.

  “The first scenes will be filmed today.”

  “Will we be there?”

  “I’m not sure how welcome our presence would be after yesterday.”

  “Do you think Amim will bar us from the set?” Eleanor asked.

  “Wouldn’t you if you were her?”

  “I suppose so. And it’s not important that we be there, I suppose.”

  “We should drop by the Coroner’s Office to learn about his preliminary findings. If Louis died of natural causes we don’t have anything to investigate.”

  “Is that what your gut is saying, Agnes?”

  “Not after yesterday. All I could think about all night was how Ivy acted. She wasn’t even concerned that her lie was discovered. To think she deceived Louis like that makes me ill.”

  Eleanor squeezed my shoulder. “You know we can’t allow our emotions to override our common sense. We’ll stay focused on the case, as we always have.”

  All I could do was nod. I sipped the last of my coffee before I stood u
p and stretched.

  Eleanor yawned as I led the way to the car. “Do you plan to allow Eileen and Hannah to question suspects too?” she asked.

  I frowned as I passed a slow-moving car. “Yesterday was different. I wasn’t able to just sit there and have them handle all the questioning. We won’t do that again, but we might need to be careful that we don’t alienate suspects. We won’t learn of anything of interest if they shut down on us.”

  “I agree with that. I think I have a few ideas that might help out when we question the next suspect.”

  “If there is one,” I said as I pulled into the hospital parking lot near the employee stairwell.

  “Please tell me you don’t expect me to hike down those steps to the morgue.”

  “There’s a service elevator.”

  “That’s good, but won’t someone stop us?”

  “Not if they don’t see us.”

  Eleanor and I quietly entered the door, and on the landing of the stairwell found the service elevator, which we took to the basement. I took a quick peek. We were in the clear, and hurried up the hallway and stopped at the door of the morgue.

  “Great! The door is locked,” Eleanor said after trying the handle. “How are we going to get in now?”

  “We’ll ring the doorbell, I suppose.” I pushed the button as a janitor moved up the hallway toward us. “You’re not supposed to be down here,” he grumbled.

  “We’re here to identify a body,” Eleanor said wiping an invisible tear.

  “She means we’re here to speak with the coroner. Walter Smitty.”

  “He’s upstairs in his office, Room 310—third floor.”

  “Is there another elevator?” I asked.

  “Follow the blue spots on the floor. They’ll lead you to the elevator.”

  Eleanor and I sighed when the elevator door closed. “I thought we were busted for a minute,” Eleanor said.

  “Teach you to lie about having to identify a body. It’s bad luck to lie about someone being sick or in the hospital. I’d hate for it to turn out to be true.”

  “You’re such a stick in the mud, Agnes. Sometimes we have to make up things.”

  “I suppose you’re right. I just hope Walter is in his office. We don’t have time to chase him all over town.”

  “We could ask the sheriff about the cause of death.”

  “Peterson would be the last person to tell us anything,” Eleanor countered.

  I tried the door of Walter’s office. It was unlocked, and we slipped inside. Walter glanced up from his paperwork and sighed. “I expected you much earlier,” he said.

  “It’s not like we could do it last night after everything that happened.”

  “I was busy most of the night, but have samples sent to the labs now.”

  “So your preliminary work is done?” I asked.

  “I believe so, unless you have something to add.”

  “Such as?”

  “Just that you were questioning witnesses. I thought you might have found out the cause of death for yourselves.”

  “How do you figure that?” Eleanor asked. “We were only able to speak to one witness.”

  “She wasn’t a witness, remember? She discovered the body,” I said.

  “And she didn’t have anything to say about what happened?” Smitty asked.

  “Nope. She’s still sticking with the ‘I just found the body’ story. I would have liked to turn the body over, but I thought better of it.”

  “There didn’t appear to have been a struggle,” Eleanor said.

  “Which means nobody would have heard what happened,” Smitty said as he stroked his long chin.

  “Somebody knows something,” I said. “We just have to find out who.”

  “Of course we’ll have to find the killer to do that ... unless Louis wasn’t murdered. Did he die from natural causes?” Eleanor asked.

  Smitty leaned back in his chair, nearly smacking into the open window.

  “You’d better be careful, Smitty. We’d hate to be the last ones who saw you before you plunged to your death.”

  Smitty laughed. “That would be unfortunate for all of us, but mostly for the two of you.”

  “Do you have something to share or not?” Eleanor snapped.

  “Calm down, Eleanor. There’s no need to get upset. In my expert opinion, the victim was strangled with something.”

  “He couldn’t have been strangled there,” I said. “There were no signs of a struggle, as I already said. He was on a dirt floor.”

  “Ah,” Eleanor began, “we should have seen signs of a struggle on the ground, footprints even.”

  “The scene must have been staged,” I mused.

  “His body was posed with his palms on the ground. If someone had strangled him there his limbs would be contorted, not neatly at his sides,” Smitty offered.

  “I suppose that exonerates Ivy,” I said. “I can’t imagine she’s strong enough to strangle a man Louis’s size.”

  “That’s not always the case,” Smitty said. “He could have been taken unaware or something wrapped around his neck from behind. He could have been sitting in a chair. From that position it would be easier.”

  “All good points,” I said. “Thank you, Smitty. You’ve given us something to think about.”

  “Remember, don’t tell the sheriff you were here,” Smitty said. “You could go down to the sheriff’s department to needle him. That way he wouldn’t think anything was amiss because you both have a habit of doing that.”

  “Thanks. We’ll do that.”

  “DO YOU THINK PETERSON will tell us about Louis’s death?” Eleanor asked at the sheriff’s department.

  “I don’t think he will this time, but I suppose it won’t hurt to ask.”

  We sneaked past the counter; somebody neglected to lock the door leading behind it.

  The door to the sheriff’s office was closed; no sliver of light peeked from beneath the door.

  “Maybe the sheriff isn’t here,” Eleanor said.

  “There are other places he could be hiding out.”

  “Does he really have to hide out in the sheriff’s department?”

  “I’m thinking the break room.”

  “I could use a coffee,” Eleanor said. “Or a doughnut.”

  “Judging by Peterson’s trimmer body, I’d say sweets are outlawed.”

  I peeked into the break room and found Peterson talking in a muffled voice to Trooper Sales. Apparently Bill was working with the sheriff on this case, even though he’s a Michigan State trooper.

  I knocked on the door and waved. “Oh here you are, Peterson. I was worried there was more trouble at the movie set.”

  “Probably not, because you two are here instead.”

  “Now that’s not fair,” Bill said. “It’s not Agnes and Eleanor’s fault that a body was found on the point. But interfering in a case is another matter.”

  “Oh, and here I thought you were sticking up for us, Bill. How are Sophia and my great-granddaughter doing today?”

  “Expecting a visit from you soon.”

  “So you hope I’ll do that instead of questioning suspects?”

  “What suspect is that? I believe we already covered that,” Peterson said.

  “Don’t you think the crime scene was a little too clean? No sign of a struggle. With a dirt floor I’d expect scuffle marks on the ground at the very least.”

  “Would you now?”

  “Yes. And did you know that the woman who found the body, Ivy, claimed to be Louis’s niece?”

  “I believe you mentioned that yesterday.”

  “She led him astray. She’s not related to him at all.”

  “Are you certain nothing was going on between them?” Peterson asked.

  “She says no, and unless anyone else stands up to say that is the case I can’t help but wonder what motives Ivy would have.”

  “Maybe she wanted to get in with an actually Hollywood production. If Ivy worked long enough
with Louis, she might have had a shot of getting a better job,” Eleanor said. “We already know she believes she’s capable of taking over his job as the director’s first assistant, or so she said yesterday.”

  “When did she say that?” Peterson asked.

  “Yesterday at Tim Hortons. Eileen and Hannah asked her a few questions. I believe we might have alienated her yesterday when the body was found ... or Eleanor did.”

  “You’re guilty by association.” Eleanor laughed.

  “Why are you telling us this?” Peterson asked.

  “I thought it was the least we could do because we’re working together on this case.”

  Peterson’s brow shot up. “Oh is that right now? How are you so sure there’s a case at all?”

  “I thought I made it clear already, Louis could not have died where the body was found.”

  “There were no signs of a struggle and his body appeared posed,” Eleanor said. “It’s not expected in a strangulation.”

  I shot Eleanor a look.

  “Who told you the victim was strangled?”

  “Ah-ha, so you admit the man was murdered!” Eleanor said.

  “I’m not admitting anything, but I need to know where you got your information now.”

  “Now hold on, sheriff. I don’t think I like where this is going,” I said.

  “I don’t like it when someone lets information slip to the public when it can jeopardize an investigation.”

  “Now we don’t know that’s what happened,” Bill said. “I can’t see anyone close to this case doing that.”

  “Nobody told us anything,” I exclaimed, “but word gets around. Someone spotted a ligature mark around his neck when the body was moved to the ambulance.”

  “Who are you covering for?” Peterson asked. “Because there’s no way anyone could have seen a ligature mark on the victim’s neck when he was placed in a body bag before he was taken to the morgue.”

  “Good guess?” Eleanor said with a shrug.

  “It doesn’t matter at this point,” Bill said. “Thanks for the information, ladies, but we’ll handle it from here.”

  “So you don’t plan to share any information with us?” I huffed. “We shared with you.”

  “I don’t want people in town to think we can’t handle this case,” Peterson grumbled.

 

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