Chaos on Camera

by Louise Lynn

  I wished I could be as sure of Adam’s innocence as Ivy seemed to be. But something told me this wasn’t going to be so easy. Not to mention he had threatened her.

  But when I thought of Quintessence crying the last time I saw her alive, my chest tightened. She may not have been the most pleasant person, but she didn’t deserve this.

  Even if she tried to steal my high school boyfriend.

  A knife in the heart was about as overboard as punching a hole in a wall for a stubbed toe.

  “Mom didn’t invite Dean over again, did she?” I asked as we pulled up to the house that night. There was no obvious sign of his car. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t told him to park around the corner, or picked him up in her old station wagon that was held together with little more than luck and duct tape. It’s not that she couldn’t afford a new car, but that one had special meaning to her since we’d taken a family road trip in it, my junior year of high school, when the car had been nearly new.

  Now, not so much.

  But it was parked at the end of the drive, and I couldn’t imagine Dean would have time for another family dinner since he now had a new murder to solve.

  My gut twisted at that thought.

  “I don’t think so,” Ivy said and looked as worn out as I felt. “But you never know with her.”

  I snorted my agreement and climbed out of my truck. “If she hasn’t cooked yet, I say we order from Martinelli’s and veg out before we get started on the baking for tomorrow,” I said around a yawn.

  Ivy patted my shoulder. “The new kitchen will be worth it, but I can’t believe they didn’t give everyone a day off, considering …”

  The star of the movie had a knife in her chest.

  She didn’t say that, but she didn’t have to. The image would be burned into my eyes for all time. I shouldn’t have gone into the trailer, but if I hadn’t, who knew what Sandra might have done to the crime scene?

  As soon as we stepped inside, Mom jingled up to meet us. Her various bangles and necklaces sounded like a whole group of belly dancers converging on us all at once.

  Before she said a word, she scooped us both into a tight hug and kissed our cheeks, smearing lipstick over them, no doubt. “Oh, I was so worried about you two. I saw the police at the movie set, and I couldn’t leave because I was at the shop selling all your delicious teas and whatnot. Then the rumor started that someone was murdered. Either one of you could’ve picked up the phone and called your mother," she said and gave us both a stern look.

  I nudged Ivy. "Calling you was her job. I left my phone at home.”

  Which was the truth. It wasn’t attached to me at the hip the way Ivy’s seemed to be.

  Ivy flushed. "Sorry, Mom. There was so much going on. Mary Jones is dead. Someone stabbed her in the heart, and they think Adam did it."

  Mom covered her mouth. "Oh no. I need to call Carole,” she said and jingled deeper into the house.

  Buttercup wandered up, winding her way around my ankles and I dropped to a squat to pet her. Knowing mom, she’d be on the phone for ages with her best friend, so I cast Ivy a hopeful glance.

  “Martinelli’s? Large pepperoni, breadsticks, and an Italian salad?"

  She scrunched her nose but nodded nonetheless. "I don’t know if I should do it after you sold me out to mom. I didn’t even think about calling her."

  "Sorry, but I really didn’t have my phone,” I said and gave her the sweetest smile I could manage. "Pepperoni," I reminded her in a singsong voice.

  With a sigh, Ivy called in our order.

  In the meantime, I slumped upstairs to change. My feet were killing me, and I wasn’t about to stay perfectly clothed any longer than I had to. Plus, getting up at four a.m. meant I needed to take an earlier shower than I usually did to give my hair ample time to dry.

  Once I’d finished, my hair was clean and no longer smelled like the catering truck at Unit Base. I was wearing a pair of gray, flannel pajamas covered in teacups that mom got me for Christmas last year, and I was just in time to hear the doorbell ring and smell the heavenly scent of Marinetti’s New York style pizza enter our abode.

  Ivy handed over the money, and I trotted downstairs to help her with the burden. A delicious burden, at that rate.

  "Two pizzas?" I asked and nodded at the delivery guy.

  He hovered by the door and didn’t turn away, instead he wrung his hands and looked back and forth between us.

  "Hey, you’re the Darrow sisters, right?" he said in a telltale surfer dude accent.

  I blinked. I certainly didn’t recognize him, but next to me I noticed a slow grin seep over Ivy’s face.

  “You were in my American lit class, right? Todd?"

  He nodded, and his eyes got a little twinkle—the same expression Wyatt wore whenever he looked at my sister.

  I smiled despite my bone weariness.

  "Yeah, next semester starts in a couple days, you ready?"

  Ivy’s eyes dropped to her shoes, and she shrugged. "Actually, I was thinking of taking the semester off. I got a job at that movie set and it’s taking a lot of time."

  I blinked and took the bag on top of the pizzas from her. She hadn’t told me that yet, and my stomach tied into a more complicated knot than I thought possible.

  “Ah, that’s too bad. Well, I guess I’ll see you around. Hey, are they still gonna shoot the movie after some lady died? Wasn’t it that big movie star who used to live here?"

  "Yes, a tragedy. And we’re not sure what’s happening with the movie, just that we were told to show up at work tomorrow. Thank you for the pizza," I said and handed him a five-dollar tip.

  He whistled. "Sweet," he said and winked at me.

  I shut the doors as he turned to leave, and Ivy gave me a pained smile. “I was going to tell you about it. I mean, I haven’t had to pay for this semester yet, so I don’t see the harm."

  I shook my head and walked into the kitchen, where our mom was still having a hushed telephone conversation, hunched at the kitchen table. Buttercup had made herself a bed in my mom’s lap, and she absently petted the fluffy orange cat as we set down the food. We usually all ate together instead of alone. Mom would hound us if we ever dared to break that tradition.

  "I don’t want you taking time away from your education just for this. I can handle it on my own," I said and slumped into a seat at the kitchen table. I hadn’t bothered with plates, just threw the pizza box open and grabbed a slice.

  Ivy didn’t seem to be in the mood to be so uncivilized. She grabbed plates and bowls and set them on the table.

  Without a word to us, Mom started scooping salad into each bowl and she kept whispering "I know. I know. I’m sure the police will—"

  Ivy slumped into a chair near me and grabbed her own slice. She’d eaten half of it before she replied, a little line of pepperoni grease slipping down her chin. She swiped it away with a napkin. “We’re only two days in, and you’re dead exhausted, so I don’t think you can handle it by yourself, Olive."

  I wrinkled my nose at the nickname. "I get Sundays off, and I’ll just sleep all day."

  Ivy gave me a pointed look. "If shooting goes on, as the producer is acting like it will, and we get the new kitchen and the money, think about how many semesters that would pay for? It’s not gonna hurt. Promise. And if I have to graduate a semester later, I’m not gonna blame it on you."

  For the first time since I heard the words Quintessence Lovejoy is dead, my chest actually warmed.

  I let out a long breath and nodded slowly. “If this is what you want, I’m not going to try to convince you otherwise. Thank you. I can use all the help I can get," I said and finished my first slice in a series of oversized bites.

  "You’re not mad I got two pizzas now, are you?" she said and grinned, already halfway done with her second slice.

  Eating pizza wasn’t just a pleasure in the Darrow household but also a race. Though, right then, I didn’t think I’d win.

  "Don’t worry, dear. Yes, it’s
settled. Call me if anything changes," Mom said and hung up the phone with a heavy sigh.

  She took several bites of her salad before she relayed any bit of the conversation to us, but we knew from experience to let her take her time and think over what had just transpired. I hoped it didn’t upset the warmth that had settled into my chest at Ivy’s sacrifice for my business.

  "Now what’s this about you taking time off school to help Olive, Ivy?" Mom asked and looked back and forth between us as she took a slice of the non-pepperoni pizza. This one had mushrooms, Mom’s favorite.

  Ivy explained her reasoning, and I let her, while I savored the spice of the pepperoni, cut wonderfully thin.

  When Ivy finished, Mom nodded. “You know I’ve always supported you girls whatever you decide to do.”

  Ivy and I looked at each other. I cleared my throat, since Ivy had just done all the talking. "Thank you. So, what did Carole have to say?"

  Mom ripped her crust in half and nibbled on an end. "Well, it seems your detective boyfriend had a word with Adam. They said it didn’t look good, and she’s distraught. After Jim ran off, you know Juno and Adam are all she has.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend, despite dinner the other night,” I said, but I wasn’t sure if she listened.

  "Olive can prove he didn’t do it," Ivy said around a mouthful of salad.

  I nearly choked on my bite, and took a long swig of Dr. Pepper to clear it. "I said I’d find who the killer was. I never said I’d clear Adam if he is the killer," I said and gave Ivy as hard a look as I could manage.

  Mom’s hand clamped on my arm. "Do what you girls think is best. Like I said, I’ll stand beside you, but—think about Carole. And Adam. Could he have done this to Mary Jones of all people?"

  I pursed my lips and thought about what Ivy and I had witnessed the night before. The threat that lingered in the air as he stalked away from Mary’s trailer. The anger that caused him to punch a hole in his apartment wall.

  Not to mention his hairdresser girlfriend, Gina Rodriguez. They’d been dating for years at this point, and it was a big joke around town about when they were finally going to tie the knot.

  I grabbed a final slice of pizza and chewed. "I’ll do what I can. But I’m not the police. If Dean has the wrong guy, we’ll see if we can figure out who really killed her. If Adam isn’t the one who did it," I added.

  Mom nodded and smiled. "Good. And I have a surprise for you. Since you both were so busy today, I got some of the baking done early. And don’t worry about it. I took care of Maritime’s needs, and have several batches of scones and pastries already done. They’re in the pantry and you can inspect them at your leisure,” she said with a beaming smile.

  The warmth I’d felt earlier washed over me. I felt tears prick at the corner of my eyes. "You mean I won’t have to stay up till midnight baking again?"

  She waved her hand in my face. "I know how much you like to, but you both look like you could get to bed a bit earlier. It won’t be much longer, and it’ll be worth it once these next few weeks are up. So, as soon as we finish here, we can wrap up the baking and make it to bed by ten.”

  Ivy grunted around her new slice of pizza, and I nodded and grabbed another final one.

  Like Ivy said, I could use all the help I could get. And I was happy they were willing to offer. Though, I knew if I mentioned it, they would just both say the same thing.

  After we finished our dinner, I rolled up my sleeves and grinned. "Okay, we have five dozen cookies, two dozen cupcakes and three cakes left to make. Plus, three ovens in the entire house. This shouldn’t take long, so let’s get to work."

  Ivy gave me a mock salute. “Aye, aye, Cap’n!”

  No matter what else happened that day, I couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of my throat.

  That is why my family was so great.

  Chapter Eight

  A dark figure lurked near my truck the next morning. I peeked out of the Victorian’s curtains, and Ivy hovered near my shoulder. We’d already carried all the baking downstairs and had it ready to go, but waited because of whoever was outside.

  “Call Dean," she hissed in my ear, and I pushed her away.

  "They haven’t done anything. Who do you think it is?"

  Ivy rubbed her sleepy eyes and yawned. "We really don’t have time for this. I’ll get the sword—you get the bat. They won’t mess with us if we’re armed."

  I raised an eyebrow at that. "I’ll go for the sword. You played softball anyway. You’re better swinging a bat than I am," I said with a tired smile in her direction.

  "You always get the sword."

  "Maybe we should get two swords," I said and grabbed the sword on display over Mom’s fireplace. It wasn’t particularly sharp, but it would do in a pinch.

  Ivy snagged a baseball bat from the umbrella stand near the door, and carefully we stepped outside.

  The bitter winter wind snapped toward us and yanked at my scarf and coat. Ivy’s hair whipped around her head madly, and the shadowy figure finally stopped and stared at us. In the predawn gloom, I could only make out that he was big. Broad shoulders, strong neck, bulky arms covered by a thick hoodie.

  "Ivy? Olivia? I’ve been waiting on you forever. Can I talk to you guys?" Adam said and shoved his meaty fists into his pockets.

  With a sigh, I lowered the sword. “Why didn’t you knock at the door, doofus?" I said and motioned for him to come inside.

  He hesitated for a moment, and Ivy snorted. "Doofus? I haven’t heard that since 1987.”

  "You weren’t even born in 1987."

  Ivy grinned. “Exactly."

  I shook my head, and we stepped inside. If Adam was there to talk, he might as well help out at the same time. Ivy was right. We really didn’t have time to tarry.

  "Talk while we carry, please," I said, and handed Adam the largest tray of cupcakes.

  The plastic cover kept the frosting from smearing, and I hoped the crew enjoyed them as much as they had the first day, though, that was accompanied by that same empty pit in my stomach I had woken up with that morning. Mary Jones saying she didn’t eat carbs, yet looking longingly at the cupcakes.

  Now she’d never get to eat one.

  I promised myself to savor one in her memory.

  Adam hefted the tray in his hands and we hurried back out to the truck, each laden with our own load.

  "What did you need to talk about?" I asked carefully. Sure, I was supposed to prove his innocence—but only if he was actually innocent.

  He set the tray of cupcakes in my back seat and ran his fingers through his wavy hair. It was blonde, like his sister’s, though not as pale. His was more of a warm honey than Juno’s platinum. But he had the same sapphire eyes as her, and right then, they glistened.

  "I know it looks bad, but I didn’t kill Mary. I couldn’t—you know me,” he said.

  I squeezed my fingers against his biceps and nodded. "A little. Adam, come on, I speak to you about five times a year. Our moms are best friends and Ivy and Juno, but you and I …"

  His jaw stiffened, and he nodded. "Okay, so we ran in different circles in high school, but that doesn’t mean I’m a killer. Why would I want to kill Mary? I hadn’t seen her in fifteen years. She dumped me after high school to run off to Hollywood, then she pops back up, and I murdered her? Why? I’m happy with Gina and want to spend the rest of my life with her. We’re engaged!”

  I hustled back inside the house, and Adam followed without being asked. Ivy eyed us from a distance, but thankfully didn’t get too close. Though, she did give him two trays to carry this time instead of one. Probably so she didn’t have to carry them.

  "Okay. I believe you. But if you didn’t kill Mary, what were you doing on set the other day?"

  He walked back out to my truck, and I kept on his heels. Then he set down the trays and I arranged them, waiting for an answer.

  "I wasn’t on set. I don’t know where you heard that, but Juno wanted to go on, and I said I’d see if I could
get us security passes, and I couldn’t."

  I stood as tall as I could, which, compared to Adam’s hulking frame wasn’t particularly impressive. "Adam, that’s a lie and you know it. I saw you storming out of Mary Jones’s trailer the day before she was killed, and I saw you kiss," I hissed, as if someone else might be around us, listening.

  Adam’s normally ruddy complexion blanched, and he glanced from side to side.

  Ivy trotted toward us with the last of the cakes in her arms, and I hoped she didn’t trip and smash it.

  “Were you spying on me?" Adam spat and took a step back, his expression contorted in disgust.

  I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please. I was going to check on Mary after she got burned that day and happened to spot you storming toward her trailer. You threatened her. And if you’re so happy with Gina, what was that kiss about?"

  I knew I sounded more accusatory than I should. But if he was innocent, he should have a good explanation for those.

  Adam shook his head. “If you were spying on me then you also saw that she kissed me. I didn’t kiss her or anything," he said and nearly ran into Ivy.

  "Watch out, Adam," she said and shuffled around him to set down the cake.

  I let out a breath. “I’d be happy to help you, but I need you to tell me the truth. The whole truth," I said and put my hands on my hips.

  Adam stared at his hands, then looked at his car parked along the street. It was an early model Ford Mustang. He’d had the same one since high school, and I couldn’t believe it was still running. "I have told you the truth. I … I didn’t kill Mary. I’ve got to go to work," he grumbled and stomped away.

  As we climbed into the truck, Ivy frowned toward his retreating sports car. "That wasn’t suspicious at all," she said and turned the heater up to full blast.

  "Nope. Proving his innocence is gonna be a breeze," I added—sarcasm thick in my voice.

  If he wanted me to believe he was innocent, he needed to act the part.

  The set didn’t buzz with the same kind of excitement it had the first day. Instead, everyone, including the crew, were more subdued.