An Unfinished Storm, page 13
Tish made it all the way to the car before she had a complete thought.
“That was… She… What the hell?”
“Yeah, you summed it up real nicely there.”
“I feel like I can’t get two seconds to think straight! And who the hell does she think she is? She wasn’t there. Those… That wasn’t my fault. Steve and Mars… They weren’t my fault.”
Were they?
“And, God, poor Sunshine. Maybe I should have been faster. I tried to get to her. I went to get her when she called. Why didn’t I drive faster? If I could have just… Maybe Mars wouldn’t have…”
“Tishkins, look at me.” Tobias sounded serious, and she looked into his blue eyes, which reminded her of her father’s. “None of those deaths are on you. They made the choices they made. Steve and Mars were both murderers. There is nothing to be sorry about with them. Mars killed Sunshine and Tyler, and there was nothing you could have done about that.”
“Sunshine called me for help.”
“And Mars killed her before she was barely off the phone. We know that from the other commune residents. You could have driven like the Indy 500, and it wouldn’t have done any good. Sometimes, the best we can do for the dead is justice. Mars got what he deserved. And Steve Winslow was crazier than a soup sandwich.”
Tish shuddered as the memory of the wild-eyed, pasty Steve Winslow flashed in front of her. At the end, he really had not been dwelling in the same reality as the rest of the population. She took a deep breath and then another.
“That detective is not following the facts,” grumbled Tish.
“Agreed,” said Tobias. “Which means that we’ll have to do it. I think we’ve got enough pieces. Let’s go back to the house and see if we can’t put everything in some kind of order.”
“Murder board time?” asked Tish.
“Murder board time,” he agreed.
Chapter 16
Murder Board
“OK,” said Tobias, wheeling out the whiteboard from the mud room. He paused and glared at Tish’s bra that was hanging off the corner. “Do you have to dry your unmentionables on the murder board?”
“It looked like it was going to rain,” said Tish. “I didn’t want to hang it on the clothesline.”
“We have a dryer!”
“You can’t put bras in the dryer,” said Tish, collecting the offending item and taking it out to the hall. She hung it on the end of the banister, where she would probably forget it and offend Tobias all over again later.
“Anyway,” he said firmly as she came back in.
She watched as he paused to take out his phone and take a photo of the drawing that sprawled the entire length of the board. Claire had made the most of the minimal color palette of whiteboard markers and created a fairy tale scene with a unicorn, a fairy, and a princess with a sword. The princess was labeled Claire, and the unicorn was Tish. The fairy didn’t have a name, but the bright red dragon was labeled Doris in big bubble letters. She remembered Claire doubling over in laughter when Tobias had suggested that be the dragon’s name. Then Tish had made hot chocolate and snuggled with Claire in the recliner, and Tobias had put in Mary Poppins on VHS.
Tish watched gloomily as Tobias scrubbed off the drawing and began to hang up pictures. She felt proud that he’d figured out how to print them out himself. He’d barely been able to turn on the computer before she’d come to live with him. Now, he could figure out emailing, searching, downloading, and printing all on his own.
“What we have here is the murder of one Skip Renfeld.” He tapped the photo of Skip’s spray-tanned face. “And the more we find out about him, the more the mystery becomes why no one killed him before now.”
“Kinda, yeah,” agreed Tish, sitting down in Tobias’s recliner. Coats gave her strong side-eye from his dog bed, and she stuck out her tongue at him. Coats flopped his head back down and went back to sleep.
“What I can now tell you from his background check is that he’s been arrested several times on drug charges, and the name on his birth certificate is Adolf.”
Adolf. Her brain was stuck on it. How could anyone seriously still be naming their child Adolf?
“Well,” said Tish, trying to wrap her head around that. “I mean, I get changing it, but if I was changing my name and there were choices, I don’t think I would have gone with Skip.”
“It’s a name that practically screams I have a punchable face,” said Tobias, nodding.
“I was going to say Racist Dad at the Country Club.”
“It’s like the male equivalent of a stripper name,” added Tobias.
“Trust fund baby who blew it all on coke,” said Tish, determined not to let her grandfather one-up her.
“Mommy didn’t love me.”
Tish broke first and started to giggle. Tobias grinned slyly at her.
“Anyway, according to the voicemail you got, it seems like his modus operandi was to blackmail people into helping his career. Something practically confirmed by that effects guy.”
“Which makes me wonder about every single person on the set,” said Tish.
“Absolutely,” said Tobias. “However, the only people singled out by the effects guy were you and Taylor Blake.”
Tobias taped up a headshot of Taylor Blake. The young heartthrob still had the smooth polish that Disney imparted on its child stars. Tish liked the in-person version of Taylor better. He looked more human.
“What do we know about Skip and Taylor’s relationship?” asked Tobias.
“Kyle said that Skip was giving Taylor major anxiety and that Taylor hated Skip. But before Kyle told me that, I would have said that the two were friendly. Skip kept calling him bro, and they worked on at least three movies together. On the other hand, despite being very nice on set, Taylor doesn’t talk a lot about his own life. Emma had to ask if he was dating someone.”
“OK, so we want to talk to him,” said Tobias. “Who else spent the most time with him?”
“I did. And the principal cast and crew. Taylor, Emma, Brianna, Frank, and Luke.”
“Ah, yes. The young writer who wanted the movie to fold. Seems like having the director die would help kill a film.”
“Yes, and I’m pretty sure he lied about... something. Not sure what,” said Tish. “But when he arrived here after we found Skip, there was some sort of glitch in his matrix.”
The Matrix. 1999. Keanu Reeves in a nerd’s wish-fulfillment fantasy that has impacted filmmaking for decades.
“OK. So he’s on the interview list.” Tobias hung up a headshot of Luke Green that somehow managed to look more pretentious than Taylor’s. “What about the others?”
“Frank, the director of photography—that’s the guy that’s in charge of the actual filming—downplayed how much he disliked Skip. Apparently, there was history there, but he made it sound like he’d only heard things about Skip. Except that Skip got him fired off a job.”
“That’s some amount of motive. A bit thin for murder, but maybe we don’t know the entire story.”
Tobias drew an empty box next to the two photos and wrote Frank inside.
“Then we’ve got Emma and Brianna,” said Tish. “Neither seems like they’ve got a motive. Emma didn’t like him, but it seemed like she was rolling with the Hollywood punches and had herself pretty well protected. Brianna seemed like she was keeping whatever she felt to herself, which was probably smart. But I suppose Skip could have been blackmailing her.”
“Seems unlikely. From talking to Brianna and looking at her IMDB page, I don’t think that they’ve worked together before. Your studio guy, Alan, seems like a better target.”
I appreciate that you investigated, though. Unless it was just romantic stalking? Hard to say.
“Except that he isn’t here. On the other hand, even if Brianna and Emma didn’t do it, they could both know something. Emma talked to Skip after dinner. There might have been more to that conversation that I missed. We should talk to them anyway.”
Tobias nodded and made a separate column for Interviews, then added Brianna and Emma’s pictures.
“But that does bring us back to the question of timing.” Tobias went back up to the board and drew a long horizontal line from left to right. “You had an altercation with him at Reginald’s, here.” He made a tick-mark. “You thought that was just before five?”
“We were closing in on golden hour lighting,” said Tish. “The dailies looked gorgeous because of it. But that meant that we didn’t get done until nearly seven. It was probably after seven by the time I got over to Nash’s and closer to eight when I got to the Orcas Hotel. So Emma would probably have seen him after nine? I was thinking it was earlier, but I don’t see how it could have been.”
“So it would have been starting to get dark,” said Tobias, nodding and adding a tick mark to the board. He wrote in the time and then added moped underneath.
“So sometime between leaving Reginald’s and seeing Emma, he blew up a pillow and found a moped,” said Tish.
“And after that, we know that he went up to the tower, but we don’t know if he made any stops in between. The detective lady said your lack of alibi coincided with the estimated time of death. So we’ve got to figure after ten in the evening until I found him in the morning with Brianna. That’s a lot of hours.”
Tobias tapped the end of the dry-erase marker against his teeth.
“I’ll call Mitch in a minute,” said Tobias. “He’ll tell me what he thought the time of death was.”
“I still don’t understand what he was doing at the tower in the first place,” complained Tish.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure he was trying to kill Taylor—or maybe just hurt him—and then blame you for the accident.”
“What?!” Tish gaped at Tobias in shock.
“He was looking at your IMDB webpage. Probably looking for blackmail material.”
“Good luck,” said Tish with a shrug. “I’m not saying I don’t have stuff I’m embarrassed about, but I don’t have a damn thing that would keep me from telling him where to stick it.”
“Yeah, I think he realized it wasn’t going to work and came up with a plan B. I think he tested that squib on the pillow because he was planning on making Taylor fall off the tower and then somehow blame you for it.”
“I don’t think that would have worked,” said Tish slowly. “Taylor said he’d been taking climbing lessons and probably didn’t need the rig. So even if the rigging had blown, I think it might have been scary, but Taylor probably would have been fine. And frankly, I never touch any of the equipment if I can possibly avoid it. I never want to screw anyone’s stuff up.”
“Sounds right. I think Skip misjudged the entire situation, but that’s not surprising.”
“But it’s so stupid,” said Tish. “It’s convoluted, it’s dangerous, and it has multiple fail points. It’s the worst plot ever. Why he ever thought he could write is beyond me.”
“I knew a writer once,” said Tobias. “Friend of a friend pointed him at me because he wanted to know about guns and spycraft. He wrote thrillers. Decent books when he got the guns right. He said that since no one can see the thinking part and typing is so easy, everyone thinks they can write.”
“Ah,” said Tish, nodding. “Yes, the invisible labor doesn’t get recognized.”
“Invisible labor?” Tobias’s eyes narrowed as if he was connecting the dots. “That’s one of them feminist things, isn’t it?”
“Not really. It’s for everyone,” said Tish, and his eyebrows went up suspiciously. “Let me put it this way. You know how there are two ways of grocery shopping?”
Tobias groaned. “It’s not so hard to make a list! And then we don’t have to go to the store more than once!”
“But then I would have to look in the fridge and pantry and think about what we’re going to make for dinner this week. I like it better when you make the list, and I just do the legwork.”
“Of course, you like it better! It’s easier for you…” He stopped, seeming to chew on his own words. “Damn it, Tish. I’m too old to be giving new terms to being a grown-up.”
Tish laughed fiendishly, and Tobias reluctantly chuckled.
“OK, I see your point. Thinking is a kind of labor, and no one can see it. But it reinforces my point about Skip. It takes a special kind of thinking to put yourself in someone else’s shoes and see the world from their point of view. Skip was clever enough, but he couldn’t picture a scenario where he couldn’t leverage someone either through shame, intimidation, or bribery.”
“OK, I’ll agree to that,” said Tish. “He had a plan. It was a dumb plan, but he was going to do it. Only then what? Someone pushed him off the tower. How would someone even know he was up there? Why would they do it? I mean, other than because he was a scumball.”
“I think he asked someone to meet him, or brought someone with him, and then that person turned on him,” said Tobias. “I think they met him up there, pushed him off the tower, and then drove away again.”
“Either that or someone hiked up there and pushed him off.”
“Yeah, we don’t like that theory,” said Tobias.
“But it’s possible. You would need someone who was familiar enough with the trails.”
“Yeah, it’s possible, but you would have to be in shape to hike home again. Unless they knew people who could pick them up and wouldn’t talk. You know, like Kyle or Matt.”
Tish glared at Tobias.
“Why do you think she’s pressing Matt so hard?” asked Tobias. “That’s her theory. And since I know you didn’t do it, I think we should look for other theories.”
“I don’t know why everyone assumes we could kill people,” complained Tish.
“Because we could.” He caught her eye. “But we don’t because we’re good people. Oh, what? Everyone’s got a little murder in them somewhere.”
“I don’t!”
“You do. If someone threatened Claire, you’d plug them in a heartbeat.”
Don’t want to admit that he’s right, but… Last time someone put a hand on her, I went Mama Bear real fast.
“That would be in defense of a child. Murder is the intentional ending of life. I don’t sit around thinking about how to kill people. Except when I’m trying to figure out how someone else did it. OK,” she held up a hand to forestall further argument. “We think he had an accomplice who turned on him and left. But who would he think he could trust?”
“That’s where the suspects come in,” said Tobias, tapping the other photos on the board.
“OK, but—” Tish began, when the doorbell chimed. Coats gave a startled woof and then staggered upright, looking confused.
Tobias and Tish looked at each other. Tobias shrugged. Tish reluctantly got up and went to the door with Coats following behind. Coats pushed his nose around her leg as she opened the door, trying to catch a sniff of who was disturbing his nap. Outside, a young person with floppy black hair, artfully applied guy-liner, and plaid pants was standing on the porch looking nervous.
Chapter 17
Vegan Death Metal
“Hi,” said Tish. “You must be Cooper.”
“Oh, uh… hi. Are you Tish? My mom said you wanted to talk to me?”
“Yeah, come on in.” Tish held open the door.
“Um… well, actually, my band is here.”
Tish looked out the door to where a dilapidated minivan was plopped in the drive. She now had a fair amount of experience with wedding bands and saw her moment to gain their trust.
“Hey!” she yelled at the van. “You guys want a Coke and a snack?”
The engine turned off, and two more teenagers exited the van.
“Is it vegetarian snack?” asked one with lanky brown hair.
“It can be. I think we have hummus, chips, and bagels. Plus, hard boiled eggs.”
“Sweet. I am trying to go full vegan, so I’ll probably skip the egg.”
Looking around, she tossed a sweatshirt over her bra on the end of the banister.
Granddad is going to say it serves me right for not putting my things away.
“I still don’t think vegetarian is really hard-core metal,” complained the third band member bringing up the rear. He was heavier and a plaid shirt over jeans that was probably meant to look grunge, but ended up just looking farmer.
“Why not?” asked Tish. “What’s more metal than going against the majority population in a way that fundamentally annoys at least a third of them?”
“No cap,” breathed the vegan with a reverential nod.
“Who’s this?” asked Tobias as the band came trooping into the kitchen. He was already getting out the snacks and a six-pack of soda had been plunked on the counter.
“Vegan Death Metal,” said Tish.
“We’re not Death Metal,” said Cooper. “We’re more Metalcore.”
Tobias looked at Tish.
“This is Cooper and his band. Retro Betty’s kid. You gave her lipstick.”
“Oh, right!” exclaimed Tobias. “Reginald told me she collected.”
“Reginald used to give me piano lessons,” said Cooper hesitantly. “I really miss him.”
“I do too,” said Tobias, smiling at Cooper.
“I miss his sandwiches,” said Cooper and then he blinked like he was going to cry. His friends looked uncomfortable.
“Thank you for telling me that,” said Tobias. “He was my best friend and I miss his cooking too. It’s nice to know that other people think about him.”
Tish slid soda cans quietly across the kitchen counter to the boys to give Cooper a moment to recover. Cooper popped the top and cleared his throat.
“My mom said Tish came by and wanted to know about that guy down the road and a moped.”
