Duck Disaster, page 11
Back in the dressing room, Anne spied the next dress. A satin A-line in a soft peach topped by a bodice with cream lace cap sleeves while the skirt was covered in a lighter toned chiffon overlay, allowing the color to shimmer underneath.
Anne stared at herself in the mirror. Kandi had done it. She had picked out the perfect dress. As she opened the door and stepped out of the dressing room, Kandi exclaimed, “Oh, you’re beautiful. It’s perfect on you.” Other women shopping nearby also gave their endorsements of the gown. “So, it’s the one?”
Anne smiled. “It’s the one.”
Kandi stuck out her tongue. “See, told ya!”
After the dresses had been paid for and encased in garment bags, they left the store and made their way out to the truck.
“Do you think we should lay them on the seat or hang them? I’d hate for someone to steal my dress.”
“With the truck locked and the back windows tinted, they should be fine. We need to get the shoes taken care of while we’re here. Plus, I’m getting hungry. Let’s grab a bite too.”
A few hours later, the truck laden was down with new shoes and other bags, and the pair made their way over to Richard’s apartment.
He greeted them at the door. Since the last time she’d seen him, he had improved in his appearance, if nothing else. He’d shaved, a recent cut near his chin attesting to the fact, and he’d had a haircut. He was dressed in khakis and a polo shirt, open at the neck.
“Do come in. I’m sorry I can’t stay too long, but you said you had some news.”
Anne nodded, but replied, “Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe this. I’m sorry, but may I use your bathroom? We’ve been shopping all day—” She tilted her head in what she hoped looked like an earnest gesture.
“Be my guest. Third door on the left down the hallway.”
Anne glanced over at Kandi, who was to create a diversion by having him point out landmarks in the city. As Kandi rattled on about the view, Anne slipped down the hallway. Thankfully, doors were open, and she spied his bedroom with a large king-size bed taking up most of the room and facing the plate-glass windows overlooking a view of downtown. She made her way into the bathroom, but it yielded no clues. The walk-in closet, smelling of musk, held suits, slacks, and an assortment of starched shirts. She opened the doors of the center island dresser, but nothing appeared.
Anne thought, Where would you—
She made her way back into the bedroom. The king-size bed was made up with a duvet and a bed skirt. Dropping to her knees, she lifted the bed skirt and peered into the dark cavity under the bed. At first she spied nothing, but just as she was about to give up, she looked toward the headboard.
It was balled up, but Anne knew what it was. She couldn’t take it with her. For now, it was safe where it was. She made haste to head down the hall and into the guest bath, where she flushed the toilet. After turning on the sink, she came back into the living area, her hands rubbing together with the lotion that had been provided. “Thanks so much. Too much tea at lunch.”
“No worries. Now you said you had news?”
“Did I? Oh, yes, um, I was wondering if there would be a funeral for Casey.”
“Not here. Her parents came, and it will be back in her hometown somewhere up in Pennsylvania, I believe.”
“Oh, right. Well, I wanted to let you know that Kandi and Stewart are getting married, and we’ll love for you to come. This way, you’ll have better memories about the Inn.”
A confused look passed over his face. “I thought you were going to tell me something about what had happened with Casey. Some news there.”
“Oh, sorry. I must not have made myself clear. But I will let you know something if we do. Now, we must go so we can beat the Denver traffic.” She gave Kandi a look, and the young woman scurried toward her.
“Thanks for the information about the city. I bet it’s simply beautiful at night. Oh, and hope you’ll come to the wedding.”
They waved goodbye and, outside of his door, hit the button for the elevator. “Come on, come on.” Anne punched it a few times.
“Doing that isn’t going to help anything.”
“I know that. But it makes me feel better.”
Once they made it down to the truck, Kandi turned to Anne. “Did you find it?”
“Yes, it was just what I thought.”
“What should we do?”
“There’s nothing we can do now.” She glanced up at the block of apartments. Richard stood at the windows, looking down on them.
Later that night, Anne kept mulling over the incident. She wanted to tie this up, and soon. While Hope had agreed to let the people who’d reserved for the harvest fair in the fall stay on the books, they still needed to talk about opening it back up for the rest of the summer or even through the end of the year. Tourists were often eager to book rooms during that time, so they needed to decide soon as they had some on the books from last year.
Kandi had dropped Anne off at her house, and Anne took her time hanging her dress up where it wouldn’t get crunched in her closet. Victorians weren’t known for their huge closets, often requiring armoires or other chests of drawers for storing clothing.
Even though they’d had a substantial dinner with plenty of leftovers from the Factory, Anne was in the mood for some popcorn. She popped some and grabbed the butter from the fridge. After melting it, she drizzled it over the popcorn. Anne spied her note pad from earlier and glanced at it. What was she missing?
Maybe it was time to go back and look at the motive.
She printed out Casey. This one was more difficult because it still wasn’t known if she had taken the pills accidentally or if she was given the pills on purpose.
Anne printed out another word—Assumptions. First, if Rayne was correct that she’d been the intended victim, the assumption would be that Casey took the pills accidentally.
Anne grabbed some of the popcorn kernels, popping them in her mouth and enjoying the butter and salt on the crunchy treat. She wiped her fingers on a nearby napkin before a thought came to her.
She wrote under the assumption column—glass in Rayne’s dressing room. Had it always been there or placed there? If so, by whom? She wondered if she could get Deputy Ruiz to let her look at the photos they’d taken of the rooms. Oh, wait, she’d forgotten that she’d told Kandi to go take photos. She texted Kandi a note about uploading the photos so they could look them over.
Anne added another column with Rayne’s name and a column for assumptions. Rayne said she’d been ill. Had she been given some pills through another medium but had luckily been sick, thus not causing her any harm? They only had her word that she’d been in the bathroom, ill, so had heard nothing in the room next door to hers. Under assumption, Anne wrote: Sleeping when Casey returned so didn’t hear anything next door?
Then, of course, there was Richard. She added a column for him as well and under assumptions wrote: Asleep when everything was going on. Only have his word on that.
Anne thought back. It was his pills. He could have snuck downstairs and put the pills in the water container with no one seeing. He knew Casey would be away and Rayne sleeping. Then gone back up, took a couple of pills, headphones on, and off to sleep. Thus, appearing later with no idea what had happened.
She pinched some more popcorn in her fingers before popping it in her mouth, crunching down on it. What was missing? Or who?
Anne wrote Ivy as the next name. Under assumptions, she added: Only Ivy’s word she received a text to go back to Rayne’s apartment. She could have easily sent the text, as she had almost constant access to Rayne’s phone. Maybe she already had the jewelry but knew Rayne would send her back to Denver for it. They assumed she’d left after everything happened, but what if Rayne had already given her the boot and told her she wasn’t giving her a recommendation? She’d have to start over with another internship. That would be tough now unless she found something in the fall which could mess up her senior graduation schedule. Would that be worth killing for?
She tapped the paper with her pen. Geez, of course. It wasn’t only those four. It was also the people who’d stayed at her house. Lee, the camera operator, and Candace, the producer, plus a few others.
Ugh, that would be another list of suspects to consider. Certainly, the Inn was locked at night, but they would have been given the key code for the back door so they could come and go as needed. While she had noticed nothing from Candace toward any of the newscasters, Lee’s facial expressions at some points had made it clear he wasn’t a huge fan of Rayne’s.
Anne listed out the names Rayne, Richard, Ivy, Lee, and Candace, adding Casey at the top before circling the list.
One of them was a killer, and Anne was determined to find out who.
She sat back, staring at the names. Who gained from Rayne’s death? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, allowing her mind to wander. Snippets of conversations rose in her mind.
Who had anything to gain if Casey died?
If only the killer had made one mistake, it would be their downfall. Anne picked up her phone. She had work to do.
Chapter Fourteen
Anne arrived at the news station on Friday with Carson in tow. She’d explained everything to him and had asked for his help. Finally, he’d relented and made a call to his buddy on the Denver police force.
Inside, a small group of people were gathered around the reception desk. Candace walked over and shook Anne’s hand. “Thanks for doing this. We’ll shoot a longer segment today, and then we’ll go back in and do the edits for the shorter televised versions.” She waved a hand at a man standing nearby. “I believe you know Lee.”
“Yes, hello, Lee.”
He nodded.
Others would arrive after they’d gotten started, along with Kandi, who was excited about seeing a live taping.
They made their way into the taping area. A green screen was behind them, and Rayne entered from the side door. She beamed at the group. “Hello again, Anne. I’m so glad you decided to do this segment.”
“It’s a terrific opportunity. Plus, I’ve spoken to Candace. I had an idea that I think will really bring in the ratings. She’s agreed to it. Especially coming off your last segment about me.”
Rayne smiled, but there was a swift dropping of the happy face mask before she replied, “Wonderful. Candace knows what works for us. Shall we?”
After a few minutes of positioning and some preliminary guidelines on where to look and how to show items on the table in front of them, they were ready to begin.
“Okay, don’t worry if you mess up. We’ll cut that part out. The main thing is to enjoy yourself.”
“I will. Thanks,” Anne replied.
A bit of music came on, and Rayne smiled into the camera. “We’re here with Anne Freemont. As some of our viewers may recall, I did a feature on Anne a short while ago. Anne is the author of…”
Anne kept her mind focused as Rayne droned on about her books, the Inn, and the move to Carolan Springs. She glanced at a window and spied Carson and Kandi. Kandi made a “oh-my-gosh” face as she bounced up and down with enthusiasm. Farther back, Anne two other individuals stood in the shadows. She faced Rayne.
“Thanks for having me. As you noted, I’ve been an author, I do garden consulting, and lots more. You even alluded to my solving some crimes. I’ve always been one to enjoy fitting puzzles together. But to be honest, sometimes, it’s something simple that gives a killer away.”
“Oh, that’s interesting.” Rayne smiled for the camera.
“Yes, and it’s often something someone says that triggers a thought. It niggles in my subconscious. Then another person will say something, not realizing its importance. It becomes another puzzle piece. I don’t even realize this is going on in my brain.”
“Fascinating. I bet it’s like the way you plot out a garden or create your book.” Rayne deftly moved the conversation back toward Anne’s books.
“Yes, I loved writing the books and working in gardens. But you see, they have one thing in common.”
“Ah, do tell?
“A plot. You outline a book, you plot the way a garden should grow, and it’s also what happens with a murder. Of course, there’re distinct types of murder as known by watching shows.”
“We all love a good murder mystery. We have some good ones on our channel.” Rayne spoke facing the camera.
“Yes, sometimes, the murder falls under the manslaughter category. As you know, my fiancé is a sheriff, and so I’ve learned about the diverse types of murder charges. He came with me to the studio today, in fact.”
Rayne supplied a full smile of white teeth. “We’ll have to be on our best behavior then.”
Anne continued, “If you’ll allow me, manslaughter is when a person is killed but without malice. In other words, the death could be unintentional. For instance, driving under the influence. A person doesn’t plan to kill someone but by getting behind the wheel, someone who may be killed is due to them being in the commission of an unlawful act.”
“I feel like we’re getting a law school course here.” She smiled back at the camera before turning to face Anne. She held up a hand to the camera, most likely a sign to stop filming or a place to edit. “Anne, we need to keep this lighthearted. So, less on the lecture and something that would be interesting to our viewers. Okay?”
Anne smiled. “Absolutely.”
“Great.” She dropped her hand.
Anne turned toward the camera. “Of course, we are all interested in the person who commits a pre-meditated murder. These killers are cunning, they feel that they have thought everything through, but in the end, what usually points the finger at them is that they’re human. And we all know humans make mistakes.” She faced Rayne, who stared at Anne.
“Go on.”
“Take, for instance, the recent events we hosted at our inn for a couple. A man made an off-hand remark to me, and it didn’t really mean anything at the time.” Richard stepped from the shadows, and she turned to see Rayne stiffen. “And then my sweet friend, Kandi, said something about how she was trying to break a habit of saying like when she speaks. She’s definitely gotten better but was having little success in totally stopping it. Even when she’d focused on it, later it would pop up again.”
Rayne held up her hand again, but Anne noticed the red light on the camera remained on. This was all being taped. “I think we’re getting way off base here. Let’s wrap this up. I think something fun or—”
“How about a cliff-hanger? Then it could go into the next portion of the show.”
“Fine. But after that, let’s switch over to some tips for the viewers.”
“Happy to.” Anne smiled.
Rayne dropped her hand. “That’s remarkably interesting. So, it was simple things that were able to help you figure it out.”
“Definitely. For instance, this is a fun little puzzle.”
She faced the green screen, and Rayne turned with her. On the screen was the footage of the station’s CCTV camera. A woman arrived, used her keycard, and then grabbed the door. “Do you recognize the woman on the screen?”
“Yes. I believe that’s me, but I’m not sure what—”
“Next one, please,” Anne replied. They turned back to face the screen. A woman appeared in the same dress, her hair a bit longer than the first woman’s and also a few inches taller.
“Picture please.” A shot that Anne had seen earlier showed the two women side-by-side, smiling for the camera. They were the same height in the photo and, with makeup, could have been sisters.
“This is you and Casey, am I correct?”
“Yes, I don’t know—” Rayne fidgeted with her hands. She turned, and Anne watched as Rayne sought Richard. A look passed between them.
“Last one please.”
Another shot of the back door camera appeared. In it, a woman put in her keycard and entered the building.
Rayne looked at Anne. “That looks like Casey going into the building.”
“You’d think that, at a glance, wouldn’t you? But look at these side by side. Notice the first one, the second one, and the third one. The first and the third one match in height.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. A change of shoes could change the height.”
“You’re right, and I kept watching to figure out how to determine the truth. Because I knew there had to be something that would reveal it.”
Rayne’s face bore a smug look. “Oh, well. Sometimes, even good detectives can make mistakes.”
“True. I kept focusing on the height, but then it came back to me about how we can’t help but revert to our old habits. Especially when we’re focused on something else.”
Rayne’s brow wrinkled. She turned back to the pictures, her eyes searching. When she turned back to the camera, she chuckled, before stating, “And that’s all for now. I’m Rayne—”
“Oh, I’m not finished yet.”
Rayne faced Anne. “I think you are.”
“No. Let’s watch the tapes again. Roll the tapes.”
Anne watched as the first shots showed Rayne putting in her keycard, then entering the building, the next one showed Casey putting in her keycard and also entering the building, then it showed the last clip, and it froze as the woman put her keycard into the slot.
“Your error was that you forgot she was left-handed. You’d taken the wrong shoes with you but figured if anyone looked at the tapes, you could explain it away like you did just now. But habits are hard. Especially when it comes to our dominant hand. You used your right hand with the keycard and opened the door with your left hand while Kasey always used her left to use the keycard and open the door.”
Rayne glanced toward the booth where faces stared at her. She wet her lips. “This is silly. There’s no way that—”
“There’s more than this. Why did you do it? Because you felt threatened by her, or because Richard loved her? You wanted to frame Richard, thus giving you even more publicity and sympathy.”
