Curtains for the Condo Casanova, page 4
“He tried one more time two days later, and when I made it clear I wasn’t interested, he ended the evening there and then. He was never particularly threatening, but once it was clear I wasn’t giving him any money, he dropped me just like that.”
Marla had remained quiet throughout Scottie’s dissertation. This story sounded all too familiar to her, and not because it had been the plot of one Letitia’s cases. For now, she had to shut her own recent history out of her mind. This was Scottie’s story, and she needed their full attention.
“Apparently he was murdered,” Marla said. “What do you know about that?”
“The police didn’t tell me much except that his body was found at the edge of the pond in front of the building. He suffered some sort of head injury, but they didn’t specify.”
“That pond is directly in front of part of the building,” Kitty said. “Surely someone saw what happened from their balcony.”
“Not in the wee hours of the morning,” Scottie replied. “They wouldn’t give me an exact time of death, but they asked me where I was from ten to six this morning.”
“Why do they think you might have something to do with his murder?” Marla asked.
“They wouldn’t say, but they knew I’d been with him recently. They were hoping I could shed some light on his life of late.”
“What did you tell them?” Marla asked.
“I tried to limit my responses to our dating, but they already knew we hadn’t parted amicably.”
Marla got the distinct impression Scottie had skipped over something. “Why was that?”
Scottie began to wring her hands. “I didn’t exactly say, ‘no, thank you,’ on that final date when he pushed for me to invest. I, uh, blew up. In the restaurant. I told him exactly what he could do with his investment. In front of the other diners and the staff. He simply walked out, leaving me there with the bill while everyone continued to sneak looks at me.”
“That must have been very humiliating,” Kitty said, becoming empathetic.
“At first, but the longer I sat there, I realized how speaking my mind for once had been so freeing. Since I was paying for both dinners, I lingered long enough to toast my good fortune with the expensive wine he’d ordered and then went home via rideshare.”
“That’s how the police tracked you down?” Kitty asked.
“How would they have known to start with the restaurant, if Scottie paid for the meal?” Marla asked Kitty.
“Drake apparently ate there frequently. All the staff knew him,” Scottie replied. “If the police checked his charge accounts, they would’ve come across prior dinners when he did pay.”
“Makes sense,” Marla said.
Kitty edged in closer, taking the chair just next to where Scottie sat with Marla on the sofa. “What about … you know … the sex part?”
Leave it to her sister to have zeroed in on that aspect of Scottie’s story.
“At first, they attempted to address that part in general terms. So I answered that way. Apparently they wanted more specific details from me because they came right out and asked if we’d had sex. When I told them yes, they wanted to know how often. At that point, I drew the line, although when they continued to push, I admitted to more than twice and less than ten times.”
All they’d have to do was check Elliot’s motel bill charge records to discover the number of times they’d spent the night, or part of it, together, although such records wouldn’t indicate the number of times per night they’d been intimate.
None of them spoke for several beats. Marla and Kitty seemed to have run out of questions, and Scottie had stopped crying. What more was there to do, unless the police returned and did arrest their friend?
Kitty was the first to break the silence. “It sounds like so far you’re in the clear, but just as a precaution, maybe you should find yourself an attorney.”
“I already have a call in to a friend asking her for a reference. But that’s not why I’m here.”
“You didn’t just want to bring us up to speed?” Kitty asked.
Scottie twisted around to face Marla. “No. I’m here for you, Let— Marla. I need your help.”
“My help?” Marla asked, caught off guard.
“Help me learn who killed Drake.”
“Me? Why me?” Marla asked.
“You’ve been around more murders than me.”
Marla’s stomach dipped the same way it did when she forgot her lines. Surely Scottie wasn’t going there. “You do realize those were scripted murders. Fiction, Scottie. Make-believe. I solved them in an hour’s time every week. I have no more experience investigating real-life murders than you or Kitty.”
Scottie took her hand. “I know that, Marla. I know you’re not Letitia Carruthers. But surely some of those procedures and techniques rubbed off on you after six years? Consider the questions you’ve asked me already. Where did those come from if they weren’t embedded somewhere in your subconscious?”
“I was just being logical as I tried to get you to calm down and tell us what happened. Kitty questioned you, too.”
Scottie’s eyes resembled those of a puppy shut out in the rain. “Please, Marla. I could find a bona fide professional to take on my case, but that would take time, and I got the impression the police are under the gun to solve this quickly, whether they find the real killer or not. I don’t want them to land on me.”
“A good attorney will help you with that,” Marla said.
“True, with the legal things. But I need someone with a legitimate reason to mingle with the residents here in the building and ask questions the police won’t even think to ask. That’s you. You’re new, and you’re a celebrity. No one else I know can claim that distinction.”
Marla was taken aback with Scottie’s read on her situation. She’d come up with one reason why she should “investigate” this murder that Marla never would have considered. “That suggests you think someone who lives here is the killer. Because his body was found on this property?”
Her question brought Kitty to her feet. “That’s crazy. The people who live here might appear to be slightly unusual, but they’re not killers.”
“The police think I am,” Scottie said.
Marla debated how far they should let Scottie go with this idea. If the woman truly believed she was the top suspect, maybe she’d start acting like she was whether she intended to or not. “You don’t know that for sure, Scottie. If you’re that concerned, follow through on getting someone to represent you to have in the bullpen in case you need a lawyer. Beyond that, act like the innocent person you are.”
Scottie’s chin jutted out a tad more. “Sound advice. I’ll try to follow it. But I’ll only be able to relax and convince everyone I am innocent if I know someone else is working behind the scenes to make sure I stay that way.”
“But Scottie …” Marla started to say until she was cut off.
“Would it sweeten the pot any if I told you I have a few friends in the entertainment business? Friends in the know about movie and TV deals in the works.”
Dear, sweet, possible killer Scottie had connections?
How had she landed on the one carrot that might get Marla’s attention? What had Kitty told her about Marla’s recent setbacks?
Would it be so bad to mimic her alter ego this one last time if it meant clearing Scottie’s name, particularly since she could relate to Scottie’s situation more than Scottie or Kitty knew and that she wanted them to know? And maybe Scottie could find a new lead that would take her back to Hollywood, although if she’d learned anything in the last several months, it was not to count on the good intentions of friends. Even well-meaning ones.
“I’ll see what I can find out,” Marla said. “I’m not saying I’ll investigate. I’ll just talk to a few people to learn whatever I can about Drake Elliot.”
Scottie threw her arms around her in an exuberant embrace. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ll call my friend even if you don’t uncover anything.”
“Just as long as you remember I’m not trained in this area. I’m not promising anything.”
“Got it,” Scottie replied, jumping up and racing for the door.
Another thought occurred to Marla. “One more thing, and this is critical, Scottie. This is just between you, Kitty and me. And your attorney, if you get one.”
five
Kitty stared at Marla dumbfounded. “Were you serious about turning into a real PI?” she asked incredulously.
“I said I’d look into things. I tried to make it clear I wouldn’t investigate. I’m no longer Letitia Carruthers.”
“Good luck making that distinction clear to Scottie. All she heard from you was yes.”
Kitty had voiced Marla’s fear. But she hadn’t had much choice, given Scottie’s heightened state of desperation. “Then I’ll have to keep reminding her.”
Kitty appeared to accept that statement. “What do you want me to do?”
Should she be concerned her sister was a little too enthusiastic about being so close to a murder? “Thanks for the offer, but for now, just be willing to consult with me when I need another set of ears.” Another thought occurred to her. “Unless you ever ran into Drake Elliot?”
Kitty swiveled around and skittered off to the kitchen.
Had she hit a nerve? She’d better find out now before she got too far nosing around the other building residents.
She followed her sister to the kitchen. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Kitty conveniently had her head in the fridge. “What would you like for dinner? I’ve got several frozen options from that restaurant we went to the other day.”
Kitty’s non-answer was even more curious. “Kitty? What aren’t you telling me about the man?”
Kitty closed the refrigerator door and slumped onto one of the barstools at the island. “I know who he was. A good-looking single man does not escape anyone’s attention in this condo complex for long. I may have been at that same cocktail party Scottie mentioned. It was several months ago anyhow. I asked someone who he was, and when I heard he was an eligible bachelor, I found some excuse to approach him and introduce myself.”
“Do social events like that happen often around here?” Marla asked.
Kitty raised her shoulders in a shrug. “That depends on your definition of ‘often.’ There’s at least one complex-sponsored social event each month. Not everyone attends them, but those who do are a mix of the singles and couples. The singles include several widows and a few older, unmarried women. Some of the singles prefer gatherings with other singles like themselves. You get the picture.”
“Sort of like hunting grounds?” Marla said.
“Crude, but one way of putting it.”
“Would it be safe to say these singles parties aren’t publicized or discussed with anyone who isn’t single?”
“Uh, yeah.”
Marla thought back over the social events she’d been invited to in LA in the last few years. Not so many in the last six months; she’d become a bit of a pariah since being dropped from the show. But before that she received more invites than she could ever accept. Hostesses spent hours curating their invitation lists to ensure only the “right” mix of guests would be invited, and her name had usually been included. Although hookups occasionally resulted from these parties, most guests were more interested in being seen or making connections for their next project.
Discovering how the singles-only parties in the complex worked might be very helpful. Not that she was interested in finding a soulmate at this time in her life. She’d had that with Hugo. It was too much to hope she’d ever find that kind of relationship again. But since she was single and new to the building, what better place to begin her digging?
But her first stop was Tom Casey ten minutes later. He hadn’t approached Marla since she arrived. Curious, since she was here thanks to him. Before she “looked into” the murder of Drake Elliot, she wanted to know what was going on with her sister.
“Come in, come in,” Tom said after she knocked on his door.
Her first impression of Tom Casey was that of a slightly overweight basset hound with red hair tinged with gray. Adorable but not particularly handsome. “I’m Marla Dane, Tom. We haven’t met in person even though we’ve spoken on the phone.”
She took a seat on a sofa facing a similar piece on which he lighted. “Thanks for taking my concerns about Kitty seriously and coming back to Minnesota,” he told her. “Have you had a chance to observe her erratic behavior?”
She hadn’t made much progress in that department yet. “Early days, Tom. The one thing I have observed is the almost frenetic pace at which Kitty is engaging in outside activities.”
“That’s just surface stuff, symbolic of whatever’s going on inside her head and heart.”
“What is going on inside my sister?” she asked.
He rubbed the back of his neck before replying. “I don’t know, Marla. That’s why I begged you to come visit her. All I can do is describe some of the recent comments and actions that haven’t seemed like Kitty.”
“Tell me about those and let me judge for myself.”
He folded his hands and momentarily brought them to his face. “Even in the short time you’ve been here, you’ve probably noticed how her days and nights are a constant stream of activities. As long as I’ve known her, she’s always kept herself busy, but of late it’s been like she doesn’t know what to do with her down time.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed. I thought that was because she’s wanted to keep me busy to take my mind off the difficulties I’ve had in LA.”
“That makes a certain amount of sense, but have you gotten involved?”
“I attended her book club earlier in the week, but that’s all. I told her I just wanted to relax and regroup, and so far, she’s respected my wishes. What else have you noticed?”
“Have you checked out her wardrobe?”
“She’s always liked clothes. And shoes,” Marla replied.
“And has she always worn form-fitting pants? Low-cut sweaters. Stiletto heels?”
She thought back over the types of clothes she’d seen Kitty wear over the years. There was no denying her sister liked being on the cutting edge of fashion trends. But had she turned up the heat on those choices?
“I hate to admit it, Tom, but I’ve been so into my own head since I’ve arrived, I haven’t really noticed Kitty’s wardrobe choices. But now that I’m aware of your observations, I’ll be on the alert.”
He nodded. “Good! I’m not known for my knowledge of women’s fashion. I’m glad you’ve joined that team.”
“Have you noticed anything else?” she asked.
His gaze wandered around the room a few beats before returning to look at her. “Kitty has never been shy around the opposite sex. But lately it’s been like she’s on some kind of constant aphrodisiac where men are concerned. Most men. Not me. She’s never seen me as a romantic partner.” His voice dropped off with that last admission, regret underlying his tone.
Roger Halliwell’s name came immediately to mind. Kitty had been so intent on spending time with him in his boat, she’d missed picking Marla up at the airport. Possibly, Kitty had been involved with Drake Elliot, even though she’d denied having dated him. Maybe there’d even been something between her and Rex Alcorn, the way the two interacted with each other when he’d let her into Kitty’s condo.
“Kitty’s been divorced five years. She has every right to see men socially.”
“Of course she does,” he said. “What I’m talking about is a matter of degree.”
“Are you saying she’s become a sexaholic?” Marla asked.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he replied, “although I’d have to check out a definition of a sexaholic first, if there is such a thing. She just seems so frantic about her need to be with a man.”
“Where did you get that impression?”
He pursed his lips briefly. “It’s like I’ve become her best girlfriend. She feels comfortable sharing things with me. Things I’ve never asked about.” He paused. “I’m not gay, Marla. I’m a straight man with needs of my own. I’d rather not be subjected to her chattiness.”
Talk about oversharing. Marla hadn’t expected to hear so much about Tom’s personal lifestyle. “Do those needs include my sister?”
He didn’t reply at once. He seemed to be giving her question lots of thought. “She’s never been interested in me,” he said at length. “How I feel about her doesn’t matter.”
“Have you ever told her?” she couldn’t help asking.
“I’ve come close more than once, but I’m not in her league. Why embarrass us both with her rejection?”
Tom Casey had it bad for her sister. That should’ve been clear from his plaintive phone call when Marla was still back in LA, but it didn’t register until that moment. Most likely, something really was going on with Kitty, but it was being interpreted and now described to her by this infatuated man. How much could she trust his judgment?
“Busyness, sexy clothes and accelerated interest in men,” she said, summarizing what he’d told her. “I’ll watch for those, but then what? Any ideas?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s why I asked you to come. You know your sister better than I. But like I said before, these are outward signs of something going on inside her. You have to figure out what it is and then help her deal with it.”
“Is that all?” She didn’t mean to belittle him, but damn, that was a big order, especially now that she’d agreed to look into the Elliot murder for Scottie Richards.
He hung his head. “Yeah. Big assignment. But she’s worth the trouble.”
“You’ve given me a lot to think about. I’ll be back when I have a plan.”
“Please, don’t tell her that I’ve shared my feelings about her with you.”
