Methods of Malice, page 11
Olson pulled out one of his familiar notebooks and reached for a pen. “I’m listening.”
“It’s possible Regina was murdered by mistake.”
“Murdered by mistake. Sounds like an episode of Murder, She Wrote.”
Cooper cringed. She couldn’t believe Olson watched old amateur sleuth television too. She quickly explained discovering the room switch when she delivered the flowers and how Michael Ospina despised Jasmine.
“You believe that Jasmine Ryan was the target?” he asked while seeming to mull the angle.
“Yes.”
“Again, an interesting theory that we will look into.”
“Look into it?” Emotion propelled Cooper to the edge of her seat. “Detective Olson, Michael has motive, means and opportunity. Couldn’t you get a warrant to search his hotel room for evidence?”
“Probable cause, Ms. Lee, probable cause. To obtain a search warrant, I have to convince a judge that there is enough information for a reasonable person to believe that a crime was committed. All I have is your claim that Michael Ospina doesn’t like Jasmine Ryan, along with a theory that he targeted the wrong room because he didn’t know about the room switch. At this point in the investigation, the front desk clerk—”
“Hospitality professional.”
“Excuse me?” He blinked and stared at her with surprise.
“They like to be called hospitality professionals.” She offered a weak smile.
“As I was saying, the front desk clerk could be as culpable as Mr. Ospina. Or the housekeeper. Interviews with anyone who encountered Ms. McAllister have one common thread. There isn’t anyone with a nice word for the assistant director. We need evidence to connect someone to a murder. Not hearsay.” He paused. “That was a theoretical statement. The assistant director’s death will not be ruled a homicide until the medical examiner determines that it is.”
“Understood.”
Olson met her gaze. She had to admit, he did seem genuinely concerned.
“Is there anything else?” he asked.
Silence stretched as Cooper reviewed the information the Bible study had compiled. Nothing else had turned up in their investigation that could be considered conclusive. Which meant they couldn’t get in trouble for withholding evidence. Today.
They’d continue to investigate until they had enough “concrete evidence,” as the detective so emphatically stated, to prove Michael Ospina was guilty.
“I guess that’s it.” She stood slowly, unable to hide her disappointment. She’d gotten up thirty minutes early, skipped her Lamplighter coffee pit stop, and instead fought morning traffic to get here, only to have her concerns dismissed.
Olson stood as well. “Ms. Lee, I appreciate your group’s diligence.”
Here it comes. The big “but.” Cooper took a deep breath and waited.
“But I’d suggest that your group keep their theories to themselves. We can agree that if Regina McAllister was murdered, someone out there might be willing to kill again. By sharing information, a target is put on each and every member’s back.”
Okay, he was right. Cooper nodded and pulled a Make It Work! business card from her pocket and scribbled her cell phone number on the back. “Could you call me if there’s a break in the case?”
“It is not procedure for the Richmond Police Department to share information on an ongoing investigation with civilians. However, I will call you immediately if I feel that you and your friends may be in danger.” He paused, as if mulling something over. “There is something you could do for me, Ms. Lee. In the spirit of cooperation.”
Cooper nearly laughed aloud at that. What cooperation?
“We never recovered Ms. McAllister’s phone. If it’s found at the theater, could you notify me?”
“I can absolutely do that. In the spirit of cooperation.”
“Thank you, Ms. Lee. Was there anything else?”
“No. I appreciate that you took the time to see me. I know you’re busy.”
“Never too busy for you, Ms. Lee. Especially when you bring Magnolia’s Marvels. I have a weakness for the key lime cookies.” The detective’s eyes sparkled as he gestured to the basket. “As far as bribes go, this is my favorite so far.”
Cooper found herself smiling as she exited police purgatory and stepped into the sunshine. The visit hadn’t been a total wash. Olson hadn’t refuted her assertion about cyanide poisoning. Though he was right. Everything they had so far was circumstantial and weak. The Bible study would have to step up their game and dig deeper. What they needed was solid evidence.
Cooper stopped on the sidewalk, nearly causing a pedestrian collision. “Sorry,” she murmured.
She increased her pace until she got to her vehicle, unlocked the door, and sat inside, reviewing the suspect list and the crime scene in her head.
Michael Ospina was their strongest suspect so far. How could she connect him to the crime scene?
Think, Cooper. Think.
Solid evidence, Olson said. She released a small gasp.
Délicieux French Chocolates, ganache, truffles, and pralines. Could they tie Michael to the crime scene by way of a box of chocolate? It was time to find out!
• • •
“Bravo.” Simon Doyle stood in the audience, clapping his hands. “Well done, people. Please, I would ask that everyone remain where they are. Ms. Tyler would like a word.”
The new assistant director strode confidently onto the stage. Cooper nearly laughed aloud when she saw the clipboard tucked under her friend’s arm. Trish waved a hand toward the stage wings. “Please, let’s have all cast and crew onstage for a few announcements.”
It only took a few minutes for the curious cast and crew to crowd onto the stage.
“First, on behalf of our director, thank you for your hard work this evening. If you check the bulletin board in the hall, you will see the revised schedule. Additionally, the posters for the production are here from the printer.” She held up a glossy poster featuring the smiling faces of Jasmine, Bryant and Quinton in costume. “Please take a few home with you and share around town at your favorite retailers. We’d like to amplify this fundraiser in the community.”
Trish turned to face the auditorium. “You may have wondered about our guests in the audience, especially as we have a strict no-visitor policy.”
All eyes went to the front row.
“Tonight, we made an exciting exception. The director of our local senior center, Arnold Davis, and the senior center board are with us. And we are thrilled to have Jillian Malloy, who you will recognize from the entertainment pages of our own Times-Dispatch, here as well. We’re honored they accepted our invitation to observe tonight’s rehearsal.”
Trish clapped her hands, her silver bracelets jingling, and the cast joined in with hearty applause.
“And now, George Baily . . .” Trish paused. “I mean Bryant Shelton, whom you may recognize as our local Channel 6 meteorologist, would like a few words.”
Laughter, followed by more applause, accompanied Bryant as he made his way to the front of the stage.
“Thanks so much,” Bryant said. “Tomorrow calls for more unseasonable weather, with a high of only sixty-five degrees. You can expect clouds in the afternoon and a fifty percent chance of precipitation.” He grinned, his porcelain veneers white against his perpetual tan. “I thought I better get that out of the way.”
Cooper laughed along with everyone else. Bryant was a born entertainer.
“Seriously, though, I’m here to discuss our winter production. It’s a Wonderful Life is about community, friends, and service to others. Though tragedy has struck our theater family, we are committed to bringing our best performance to the community, while fondly remembering assistant director Regina McAllister. Additionally, we are honored to partner with the senior center this season. Fifty percent of all ticket sales from this season’s performances of It’s a Wonderful Life will go directly to the senior center.”
He went on to share about the work that the senior center had done for the community.
Then, Bryant turned to face the cast. “Many of you may not be aware that director Simon Doyle and Jasmine Ryan have donated their time and talent to the production, along with several of the crew they brought with them from the Big Apple.” He smiled. “George Bailey would approve.”
At his words, applause started slowly and built until the cast and guests were nodding and clapping with enthusiasm.
“That’s all. We encourage you to stop by the large classroom for Magnolia’s Marvels and punch and to meet our esteemed guests.”
Members of the Sunrise Bible study crowded around Bryant.
“Bryant, you were so inspiring,” Trish said. She leaned in and hugged him.
“Aw, thanks, Trish. That means a lot, coming from the assistant director.”
“Yes, Bryant. You nearly brought a tear to my eye,” Savannah said. “You really buoyed everyone’s mood. Did you hear that applause?”
“I agree. Thanks, Bryant. It was exactly what we needed,” Cooper said. She looked at Trish. “You invited a reporter?”
“And a photographer,” Bryant said. “Glad I touched up my tan over the weekend.”
“Yeah, I was wondering about that,” Jake commented.
“My tan?” Bryant frowned.
“No. The reporter.” Jake laughed. “I know all about your tan.”
“Don’t worry, Cooper,” Trish said. “Jillian and I set parameters for her interviews of the cast tonight. She is drafting an article to promote the play to her readers. Jillian is responsible for the article in the Times-Dispatch a few weeks ago. She isn’t an investigative journalist. And Regina is off topic.”
“Glad to hear that,” Quinton said with an expression of relief. He looked at Cooper. “Which of Maggie’s treats did you bring?”
“A little of everything. Oh, and she made a couple dozen of those banana bars you like.”
Quinton did a small air punch. “Let’s go, before someone scarfs them all.”
“Yes. Let’s go chat with our guests,” Savannah said. “I feel really encouraged now.”
Cooper introduced herself to the senior center representatives, then found a spot to people watch. Across the room Simon and Jasmine held court, smiling and laughing with the senior center guests.
Cooper couldn’t help but notice that Laura had disappeared, though Michael stood on the sidelines, skulking.
“Cousin Tilly, I presume.”
Cooper turned to find the reporter approaching. “Yes. I am.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Jillian.” She smiled and offered a handshake. “I understand your mother is Maggie Lee.”
“That’s correct.” Cooper accepted Jillian’s hand and returned the smile of greeting. “You’re familiar with Magnolia’s Marvels?”
“Am I? The smartest thing Lamplighter did was to start carrying your mother’s treats.”
When the reporter’s smile widened a little too much, an uneasy feeling started in the pit of Cooper’s stomach. She knew the tactic too well from watching hours of detective shows. Build a rapport and then go in for the kill.
“May I ask you a few questions for the article I’m doing about the upcoming production?”
“Whatever I can do to get the word out would be great. We appreciate the support. It’s all about the senior center.”
“Right. The senior center.” Jillian dug in her purse and held up her cell phone. “Do you mind if I record our conversation?”
“No. Not at all,” Cooper murmured.
“How did you get involved in the production?” she asked.
“Trish Tyler is head of the Hope Street Community Theater board of directors, as you may know. She’s also a member of the Sunrise Bible study. Trish invited the Bible study members to audition.” Cooper shrugged. “It’s for a great cause, so I did, as did all our members.”
“I see. And did you know Regina McAllister well?”
Stunned, Cooper opened her mouth and then closed it again. Trish said questions about Regina were off-limits. “She was the assistant director.” Cooper resisted the urge to elaborate. They can’t use your words against you if you keep your answers short and don’t offer information. Always good advice.
“There are rumors about her death. Do you have any comments?”
“Why would I have a comment? I hardly knew the woman.”
Jillian inclined her head as if assessing. “I understand your group has a history of being amateur sleuths. Someone at the police department mentioned something. Do you want to confirm that?”
Cooper eyed the reporter. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Was Jillian Malloy hoping to come up with a scoop that would propel her from the entertainment section to the front page?”
“I can confirm that you can’t believe everything you hear.” Cooper reached into her back pocket for her exit strategy. “I need to make a phone call. Will you excuse me?” She wove around people to the corner of the room, where Bryant and Quinton posed for the photographer while Trish watched. Cooper grabbed Trish’s arm. “That reporter is asking about Regina’s death.”
“What?” Trish’s face paled as she scanned the area for Jillian. “That is not the kind of publicity we want. Thanks for the heads-up.” She strode across the room, her heels clicking on the wood floors.
A hand touched Cooper’s arm, and she turned to find Savannah at her side.
“Cooper, would you mind leading me to the restroom? It’s so dark around here after hours. I’m afraid I might trip over something.”
“Oh, Savannah. Certainly.”
Savannah held her cane in her right hand and with her left hand grasped Cooper’s arm just above the elbow as they navigated through the halls.
“You’re right,” Cooper said. “I didn’t realize how poor the lighting is once the stage lights are off.”
Savannah squeezed her arm. “Do you hear that?”
“No, what?” Cooper slowed her steps, but all she heard was the din of the conversation from the party in the distance.
“Shh. Stop for a minute,” Savannah said. “I hear voices around the corner.”
Cooper stopped.
“If you don’t stop following me around, I’ll be forced to tell Simon. You and I are over. Let it go, Michael.”
“Jasmine,” Cooper whispered.
Savannah nodded. “She sounds scared.”
“Let it go?” Michael Ospina’s voice rose an octave. “Do you know how much money I spent trying to keep you happy, only to find out you were only interested in meeting the famous, and rich, Simon Doyle?”
“I never said you and I were exclusive.”
“Right. Right. I guess you were only exclusive with my wallet.”
“Get away from me.”
“Regina knew the truth about you, didn’t she, Jasmine? And that’s why she’s dead.”
Cooper tensed and next to her Savannah gripped her arm tighter.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. But I’m telling you, this is your last warning. Follow me again and you’ll be on a plane back to New York so fast your head will spin.”
The sound of heels clicking on the floor became louder, telling Cooper that Jasmine was approaching. She hoped that Michael wasn’t following.
Suddenly Jasmine appeared from around the corner, nearly running into them. Cooper used an outstretched arm to move Savannah out of harm’s way.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jasmine said. “I didn’t realize anyone was out here,” Her tremulous voice echoed with anxiety.
“We’re on the way to the restroom,” Cooper said with a weak smile.
“Of course.” Jasmine turned her face away and rushed past them and down the hall.
“Come on,” Cooper said. “Let’s find that restroom. Fast.”
Savannah leaned closer as they continued down the hall. “Do you think Jasmine killed Regina?” she whispered.
“I don’t know what to think. The only thing I’m sure of is that things are getting out of control around here. Quickly.”
It was time for the Bible study to put their investigation into high gear before someone else got hurt.
Chapter Nine
Laura Champagne smiled sweetly at Cooper. “Those banana bars you brought to the reception Monday night were amazing.”
Cooper looked up from her script, surprised to see Simon’s assistant. The woman had hardly spoken to her since day one, and why should she? She was Trish’s friend. Cooper noted Laura’s gray wool blazer and skirt, and the strands of delicate silver chains around her neck. Yes, definitely Trish’s friend. They spoke the same fashion love language.
“Thanks,” Cooper said. “My mother made them. I’ll let her know.”
“Did I hear something about you and your group investigating Regina’s death?”
She heard something? Obviously, Laura had been talking to Jillian.
When Cooper didn’t answer, Laura continued. “I thought the cause of death was a respiratory complication. That’s what I read in the paper.”
“I read that too.” Asphyxia due to cyanide poison. Cooper had spent far too much time researching cyanide poison.
“So, are you investigating?” Laura persisted. She ran a hand through her auburn bangs in a gesture of impatience.
“Investigating? Like Bible study detectives?” Cooper chuckled. “That’s sort of funny. Don’t you think? Remember that show about a priest and nun who solved crimes?” She snapped her fingers as she tried to recall the show’s name.
“Father Dowling,” Laura said. She didn’t look amused. If anything, she was becoming annoyed. “Maybe I misunderstood Trish. We had lunch this week, and she was quite upset about that reporter.”
If there was one thing Cooper had learned after several years of studying scripture with her Bible study friends, it was to trust her gut. That still, small voice deep inside. Right now, her gut whispered that Laura was twisting the truth.
There was no way Trish would be so foolish to share that the Bible study was looking into Regina’s death. Laura was on a fishing expedition. But why?
“Yes,” Cooper said. “Trish was furious with Jillian Malloy, and I don’t blame her. The senior center is counting on us. A sensationalized news piece based on hearsay will only hurt the production.
