“Talking about something else.” I interjected.
“I can’t believe we didn’t rake Brianne over the coals yet,” I grumbled as we walked away. “But I never really thought she was a viable suspect.”
“Fat chance catching up to her until later,” Eleanor said.
I stared up at the overcast sky. “I don’t know. It looks like a storm is brewing.”
“Then they’ll have to quit shooting for the day?”
“With Roman in town I think not. Amim can’t risk Roman taking over. Besides, they’re shooting inside the sheriff’s department.”
Chapter Sixteen
It was much later in the day before Eleanor and I were able to corner Brianne as she was rushing out of Tim Horton’s with a box of doughnuts.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” I said. “I thought Ivy’s job was running the errands.”
“Ivy is a horrible personal assistant,” Brianne said, leaning against her car.
“She can’t be too bad if it allows you to move up to Amim’s first assistant.”
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“What my partner means is you had a good reason to want Louis dead,” Eleanor began, “you got a promotion out of it.”
Brianne’s face paled. “Look, Amim gave me that position. I already said I was happy being her personal assistant.”
“Louis is Amim’s father. I wouldn’t put it past you to murder him so word wouldn’t get out.”
“I don’t see why anyone would want to murder him for that reason, even if he really was her father. If Amim found out he was her father it’s hardly a big deal these days.”
“She’s right, Agnes,” Eleanor said.
“Amim certainly resisted the notion, although she has refused to tell us who her father is.”
“It’s not as if someone would answer a question like that from someone they just met. If Roman knew what a bother you’ve been, I believe he would have thought differently about it.”
“The only thing Roman has been concerned with is us leaving Amim alone so she can finish this movie,” I said.
“When did you speak to him?”
“This morning at my house.”
Brianne’s eyes widened. “Amim won’t be happy about that. Did he mention where he might be going today?”
“He’s sightseeing, I believe. I don’t think she has anything to worry about. He doesn’t want to interfere in the movie.”
“Still, Amim should know.”
“If you run over and tell her we’ll think there’s a secret you’re trying to keep,” I suggested.
“It’s not me who has a secret,” Brianne said, getting into her car and starting the engine.
“I don’t know. You all seem to have your secrets,” Eleanor said.
We watched as Brianne weaved her way back onto M-23 and disappeared.
“She can’t wait to tell Amim about Roman’s appearance in town,” I said.
“Why would that concern Amim? She should have expected it; he’s executive producer.”
“I don’t know, but I have this strange feeling that we’re not putting everything together. We’ve spoken to Amim many times, and she claims her relationship with Louis was good.”
“It appears the other cast members feel that way too,” Eleanor huffed. “So where does that leave us?”
“We need to speak to Roman. This morning Roman was with Andrew. It’s hard to really drill someone with him watching.”
“And you said he’s off sightseeing?”
“Yes, but perhaps I can have Andrew call him and ask if he’ll meet us later.”
“I hope later is after we get something to eat. I’m starved.”
MY EYES WIDENED WHEN Coco asked, “How is my daughter treating you?”
“Daughter?”
“Yes, Amim is our daughter,” Roman said with a smile. “I wouldn’t trust anyone but her to direct this movie.”
Eleanor laughed nervously. “We certainly had things mixed up.”
Roman’s brow furrowed. “How’s that?”
“I mean with Louis dying like that, we had all sorts of ideas in our heads.”
“We thought Louis was Amim’s father because they were so close, and there was a rumor floating around that he was.”
“Louis Amim’s father?” Coco asked. “That’s impossible. Roman and I have been together since high school.”
“I guess all that business about Louis was just gossip.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Roman began. “The reason Louis was so close to Amim is that I needed someone I could trust. I’ve known Louis for a long time; he’s doted on Amim since she was a child.”
“He was experienced and trustworthy,” Coco added. “I’m still shaking thinking about his death. Do you know how he died?”
“He was strangled,” Eleanor said. “With a red rope that looks suspiciously like the one we found in a prop box in the wardrobe trailer.”
“That beats a fisherman dead at the dock,” Roman said. “Brax and Austin need to be more creative.”
“They do when they could have written a movie in which a crew member was found dead and all the suspects are actors.”
“Perhaps for the next film,” Roman said sadly.
“We’re sorry we bothered you, but is there any reason Amim would be upset about you being here, Roman?”
“I promised that I wouldn’t interfere, but it appears that I’ve failed on that end.”
“Not unless you go to the set,” Coco said. “Which is why I plan to keep you quite busy.”
“I have the sweetest and most exasperating wife.” Roman chuckled.
Coco’s delicate brow knitted. “I could be a very rich ex-wife.”
“There’s one thing I can’t understand,” Eleanor said. “Is there a reason Amim wouldn’t want to reveal that you’re her father?”
“She’s been trying to make it on her own. If anyone found out she was my daughter, Amim believes she’d never be able to get out from under my shadow.”
“I can understand that. Thanks again for meeting with us.”
I headed back to the car, and when I spotted Eileen’s red sports car heading out I followed. She parked off the shoulder of the road where Lake Huron was viewable between the trees and began to take photos.
I parked in front of her car. “The view is breathtaking,” Eileen gasped. “Michigan is quite lovely.”
“I’m sure it’s lovely where you live to.”
“I live in the concrete jungle, but hopefully after this movie that might change. I could move to California and get more roles.”
“You’re too old to move there,” Hannah said as she joined them. “We’re both too old. In Hollywood you have to be young and thin or bankrolled by someone.”
“Too true,” Eileen agreed. “So what has you ladies stalking us today?”
“Sorry. It’s a habit of ours,” I apologized.
“We wanted to ask you about the rumor about Louis being Amim’s father, again,” Eleanor began, “It appears it’s only a rumor after all. Roman Douglas is Amim’s father.”
“You’d better not let anyone hear you say that. It’s Amim’s well-guarded secret,” Eileen said.
“But that’s not what you made it sound like before,” I gasped. “Why did you make up that story about you being on the plane with Louis blabbing.”
“I just couldn’t risk the truth coming out.”
“And you?” Eleanor asked Hannah.
“There’s nothing like a good rumor to keep you on your toes.”
“That’s so not funny!” Eleanor sputtered. “Especially when the man in question lost his life.”
“I’m sorry,” Eileen said. “We both are. But if people thought Louis was Amim’s father, they would never find out Roman is her father.”
“She wants to make it on her own and not on Roman’s name,” Hannah said.
“Please don’t ruin the girl’s chances. She’s
doing such a good job as a director. You don’t want to know how many times I was covered in ice cream at the Fuzzy’s shoot,” Hannah said with a sigh.
“I really don’t know where to go from here,” I said as I drove north. “I think this is the one case we can’t crack.”
“If Louis isn’t Amim’s father, then most of the people we questioned were a waste of time,” Eleanor mumbled. “It might all come down to that rope we found for testing. We’ll have to head to the sheriff’s department to have a talk with him about it.”
“He certainly won’t be happy about that. The movie people just cleared out a little while ago.”
“He won’t mind when we tell him we can’t solve this case.”
“He’ll be the happiest he’s ever been.”
“Happy that we’ve failed?”
I PEEKED INTO SHERIFF Peterson’s office. He sat at his desk, his head buried in his hands.
“Are you okay, Peterson?” I gently asked.
He sighed as he met my eyes. “Just when I thought my day might get better.”
I swallowed hard. “We’re not here to add to your burden, I assure you.”
“Come in, ladies. And shut of door, would you?”
Eleanor and I sat across from Peterson, and I said, “This case has gotten the best of us.”
Peterson eased back in his chair. “You have to be kidding. Does that mean you’re giving up?”
“We’re considering it.”
“It’s out of the question,” he said. “People like us can’t give up, even if things look dire. You can’t tell me you don’t have any idea who killed Louis.”
“We really don’t. At first we believed the case revolved around the possibility that Louis was Amim’s father, but that theory was shot down.”
“Roman Douglas is her father,” Eleanor added.
“Ivy Green found Louis’s body and lied about being his niece.” I explained. “I believe she was under the impression that she’d get Louis’s position of first assistant to the director.”
“But you don’t have the proof?” Peterson ventured.
“No, and she didn’t get the job she coveted.”
“I should bring her in and see what she has to say.”
“That’s a good idea, but didn’t you already question her?”
“Yes, but we questioned most of the people who were there that day. It was hard to single out one person when we had to check out all their alibis.”
“Did any results come back about the rope we found in the wardrobe trailer?” I asked. “Smitty told us it was sent to the state police for testing.”
Peterson opened his drawer, thumbed through folders and pulled one out. “They were able to do a visual before starting. It’s not the same fiber. The one lodged in Louis’s neck was finer. Forensics said it most likely came from a scarf.”
I stood up with a grin. “That helps out a lot,” I said.
“Now all we need to do is find that scarf and we’ll find our killer,” Eleanor added.
“It’s not very likely the killer would still have it in his possession.”
“Unless he’s keeping it for a trophy,” I said. “Thank you, Peterson. We’ll get back to you.”
“I can’t wait,” Peterson said with a wan smile.
We headed north on M-23.
“We’re planning to search for a scarf at the point?” Eleanor asked.
“Yes.”
“What makes you think the killer kept it?”
“It’s just a guess. One I hope pans out.”
It was quiet when we pulled up next to the trailers. We crept into into Eileen and Hannah’s trailer first.
Eleanor searched the back of the trailer, and I helped her turn up the mattress on the bed to check beneath it. We threw open drawers and cabinets, crawled on the floor and searched through the shoes, anywhere a scarf could be hidden.
Eleanor helped me up and we rummaged through the clothing. We didn’t come across one lousy scarf.
“Let’s head back to the wardrobe trailer,” Eleanor suggested.
“We might as well. We can’t get into Louis’s trailer.”
“What about Heather’s trailer? She mentioned she had a thing for Louis, and he didn’t return the feelings.”
“I can’t imagine her owning a scarf, although she certainly appears capable of strangling someone.”
We walked toward the smell of cooking food and hid behind a trailer to watch Heather hum as she set up the silverware and napkins. She wasn’t wearing a scarf. In fact, sweat dotted her brow, telling me that she’d get too overheated if she wore a scarf.
Eleanor waved. “Hello again, Heather.”
“Were you two spying on me?” Heather asked with a frown.
“Yes. Agnes and I were hoping to steal a few of your techniques, or recipes.”
Heather’s hands slipped to her hips. “You planning to ask me about Louis again?”
“Not exactly,” I said. “But do you own any scarves?”
“It’s a little too warm for that.”
“No, we meant those flashy scarves. You know, the silk kind.”
“Do you think I look like the type that would wear one?”
“I don’t see why not. They accentuate ensembles.”
“I normally wear what I have on.” She pointed to her blue pants and smock of the same color.”
“Sorry. Agnes didn’t mean to be rude. Does anyone else you know wear scarves?” Eleanor asked.
She chuckled. “You’re going to think this is strange, but one of those script writers wears ’em. I imagine they believe they’re headed for the big time.”
“So stereotypical,” I said as I recalled directors of the past who wore scarves.
“I can’t imagine we’ll be able to catch up to them today. They should be on the set today.”
“Well, I’m not one to gossip, but ... Roman Douglas was quite upset that they’re nowhere to be found.”
“So they weren’t on the set today?”
“No, but please don’t tell anyone you heard that from me.”
“We promise we won’t tell anyone,” I assured her.
“Have you seen Ivy lately?” Eleanor asked. “I have a feeling that the sheriff might be by to question her further about Louis.”
“I can’t say I have, and that’s what I’ll tell the sheriff if he drops by.”
Chapter Seventeen
Eleanor and I walked in the parking lot of the hotel where Brax and Austin were staying. Eleanor grabbed my arm and pointed out a SUV.
A hand was pressed against the rear window.
“Someone’s in trouble,” Eleanor exclaimed.
We crept up to the vehicle and glanced inside. Ivy was trussed up like a turkey ready for the oven in the rear seat. She somehow had worked one hand loose. I tried to open the door, but it was locked!
Eleanor pulled out her cell phone, but it skidded across the concrete parking lot. Brax appeared from behind her, pulled out a gun and motioned us to climb into the back of the SUV.
I swallowed hard. There was no way we’d be able to outrun the bullets, so we begrudgingly climbed in.
“What is going on?” I asked before Brax swung his handgun at my head. I winced in pain and fell in a heap on the floor.
“Shut up or I’ll make you wish you had.”
“I don’t understand,” I said and then glanced at Ivy, who had a red scarf tied around her neck.
Ivy sniffled and struggled for a breath. “I’m sorry I got you into this,” she gasped. “I was hoping to get someone’s attention before these imposters came back.”
“Shut up,” Brax hissed as he climbed into the back and tied me and Eleanor, knotting a scarf around both of our necks.
I struggled to swallow. The scarf was tighter than comfortable. Louis was strangled ... is that what’s in store for us? I wouldn’t let that happen.
Brax hopped in the front and the vehicle was in motion. Eleanor landed on me when the driver turned.
I pushed Eleanor off me and she cried out, pressing a hand against my head to stem the flow of blood that threatened to drip down my face.
“Why did you have to hit her?” Eleanor shouted.
“Stay down and shut up. We’ll let you go once we’re out of Tawas,” Austin said.
“That’s a relief,” I said half suspecting they were toying with us.
“He means we might,” Brax said with a laugh. “The way it’s going, you’ll have one of those Hollywood endings. You know, the kind where the main character dies.”
“You won’t get away with this,” I hissed.
“Shut up or I’ll come back there and kill you now.”
“On U.S. 23?” Eleanor asked. When the SUV screeched to a stop, she quickly added. “Sorry, I thought you told Agnes to shut up, not me.”
“Shh, old girl,” I whispered. I then glanced at Ivy, who was silently crying, bruises marking her arms. I was steaming mad. Why did the writers truss her up?
I sighed and stared inside the vehicle. I couldn’t find anything to use as a weapon. The crowbar was most likely in the back. But I winced as I felt something sticking me where the sun doesn’t shine. I inched the item out—it was an ice scraper. It might be plastic, but I’d use it as a weapon if I had to.
“Nobody knows where we are,” Eleanor muttered.
I squeezed Eleanor’s hand. “Try not to think about it, we’ll find a way out of this.”
“You promise?”
“Y-yes I promise,” I said as I closed my eyes.
“We’d better get off this road,” Austin said. “Something tells me someone will miss those old bats.”
“We don’t know the area.”
“We have navigation.”
If they get lost we might have a chance at an escape. But how will we be able to get Ivy out of this?
The roar of an engine distracted me, and Austin slammed his hands on the steering wheel. The SUV swerved around a truck, and I squealed when I recognized the Hill boys’ truck, and I nodded to Eleanor.
I tried to unroll the window, but it was a no-go. Eleanor flopped over the backseat and pressed her face against the glass, quickly fogging up the glass.
“Get down or I’ll crack off a shot,” Brax yelled.
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