Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 08 - Foul Play (11 page)

CHAPTER
17

When I left the police station, I only wanted to go home and be alone. But I still had a job to do. I had a killer to find. The investigation was even more important
now because the last thing I wanted was to be framed for the crime.

With a bit of anxiety pressing on me, I
walked toward the Slug House, an unappetizing name if I’d ever heard one. This was apparently where the cast went after practice to unwind. It had taken me a few days to get an invitation from Arie, who was evidently the ringleader of this motley crew, but at least I was here now.

I paused before walking inside. The night air was bitingly cold around me, but I
needed to check something out with the assurance that no one was looking over my shoulder. I pulled out my phone and noticed I’d missed a call from Garrett and a couple of calls from Chad. I ignored them and did a quick search for Oliver Cartwright instead.

There wasn’t much information
on him, but I did find one of his mug shots. Having his picture up on my phone and readily available could come in handy. I took a screen shot and then slid my phone back into my pocket.

I pulled open one of the heavy double doors leading to the
restaurant, which was located in a strip mall down the street from the school. This wasn’t my kind of place—it was really more bar than restaurant. As always, I’d stay away from the alcohol, but I would try to uncover some answers while inside.

Besides
, maybe someone would suffer from loose lips while they were here. Alcohol could do that to people. While I didn’t encourage the drinking, I would be using it to my advantage, if I had to.

I spotted the group at a table in the corner and sauntered over to them. Bennie
was the first one to see me. A wide smile spread across her face.

“Gabby! So glad you could make it. Scoot over, guys. Make room for her.”

Everyone scooted around. Thank goodness I had at least one person on my side. Good old Bennie.

“So, they questioned you first, huh?” Jerome started. “That’s what Paulette said
. That’s why you were able to leave when you did.”

My heart rate slowed. Paulette had given me a cover story? I
supposed I needed to thank her. “That’s right. Since I discovered the body, I guess it made sense to talk to me first.”

Arie glanced at her watch. “So, where have you been between then and now?”

“That’s really none of your business,” Bennie said, giving Arie her best sassy girl duck lips.

“Thanks, Bennie
,” I told her. “But if people really want to know, I had some business to attend to.”

Miraculously, n
o one asked any questions.

“So, we’re taking votes on who thinks the show won’t go on anymore. What’s your vote?”
Jerome asked before chugging some beer.

I shrugged. “I think we should press ahead.”

“After two murders?” Bennie asked, her mouth parting with surprise.

“We don’t have enough information yet. There were no signs of foul
play on the man we found tonight.”

“Ho
w do you know that?” Arie asked, her eyebrows arching together.

“
Because I saw him. Not only from the stage; I was in the room when they hauled him off to the medical examiner’s.” I paused as I noted the incredulous looks around me. “Look, I agree that it was all very strange. But we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Besides, you heard Paulette tonight. She’s depending on this play to launch the entire Cultural Arts Center. If this bombs, the whole place could close and then there would be fewer opportunities for any of you—I mean, us—to get our acting chops.”

A few people shrugged.

“I guess you’re right,” Bennie said. “I just don’t want to see anyone else get hurt.”

“Paulette is upping security. Maybe that will thwart some of this nonsense,” I added.

“Why do you sound like you know so much about this?” Arie asked, suspicion staining her eyes.

I shrugged. “Maybe I watch too much TV.”

“Or maybe you’re involved with this somehow.” A new emotion gleamed in her eyes. Was she gloating?

“That
is just as likely as you being somehow involved. I wasn’t even a part of this show when this stuff started happening.” I stared at Arie. “You were.”

She scowled.

“All of this pointing fingers will get us nowhere,” Bennie said. “Besides, this is reminding me too much of my family life growing up. I’m blowing this joint if this keeps up.”

“You’re right,” I concurred. “You know what? I think I’m going to run to the restroom. If the waiter comes around, I’d like a water.”

“You sure you don’t want something stronger?” Jerome asked.

“Positive.”

Once I was out of sight of the table, I bypassed the bathroom and leaned against the bar. The bartender came over and I pulled out my phone. “You ever seen this guy?”

It was a long shot, but if the man who’d died had been casing out the school, maybe he’d also been lurking around unknowing cast members as they hung out here also. I’d never know if I didn’t ask.

He studied the picture. Based on the way his head bobbed to the side, I thought for sure he’d say “no,” but he nodded instead. “Yeah, he’s been in before.”

“Remember anything about hi
m?”

“Not much.” He
wiped a glass dry. “Why?”

“He’s dead.”

“You the police?”

“
P.I.,” I whispered.

He stared at me another moment, continuing
to dry the same glass. “Yeah, he was in a couple of days ago. I remember him because he paid for everyone’s drinks. Kind of generous—not that anyone was complaining. But you remember things like that.”

“Was he with anyone?”

“I think he was with a girl and a guy. Neither seemed happy with him. In fact, I’m pretty sure they led him out of the bar right after he paid a major tab.”

“Remember anything about them?”

He stared off in the distance for a moment before shaking his head. “I can’t say I do. Not really, at least. The girl had curly red hair—kind of like yours.”

I swallowed hard. Red hair? Like mine?

That wasn’t good. Someone
was
setting me up, weren’t they? “How about the guy?”

“He
wore a ball cap. They had a strange smell to them. It was a mix of gasoline and something else.”

Gasoline? Maybe he’d been here the night when someone had left a trail of it in the hallway. My pulse spiked.

“Can you describe the other smell?”

He sighed and set the glass down. “You know, not really. Maybe like newspaper,
though. It’s the closest I can get to the actual scent.”

Someone
called for a drink farther down the bar. I slipped my phone in my pocket again, armed with new information. I wasn’t sure what to do with it exactly, but I hoped the pieces would start snapping together soon.

“Gabby?”

I looked over and saw Bennie standing there. I straightened, realizing how strange I probably looked. “Hey.”

“Everything okay? You were taking so long I thought I should check on you.
” She glanced back and forth from me to the bartender.

“I was just checking the weather. Someone told me we might have a snowstorm on the way.”

She snorted. “Don’t tell Paulette that. It will just be one more thing to stress her out. Snow means nobody’s coming out for our play, you know what I mean?”

I nodded and started walking back toward the table. “Y
eah, the bartender seemed to remember that forecasters are thinking it will miss us and head north instead.”

Bennie hooked her arm through mine.
“Let’s go back and sit down.”

I mentally took a few steps back
in time. Bennie also smelled faintly of … gasoline.

***

Today was Saturday, and I actually didn’t have any firm plan for the morning hours. We had an afternoon rehearsal, and I was having dinner at Garrett’s place tonight. In the meantime, I was really hoping I didn’t get called into any jobs today. Chad and Sierra were doing some kind of fundraiser for her animal rights organization, so I’d be taking any calls that came in for the business.

I
needed some downtime. I’d been either working or rehearsing for the play all week, and I was tired. Plus, I needed to let my thoughts settle.

I’d hung out with the cast last night, hoping to discover something about someone. But I hadn’t discovered anything about anyone. I’d mostly heard people complain. Watched them get drunk. Listened to them laugh at things that weren’t funny.

I’d stayed for about an hour before I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d feigned exhaustion and slipped away, no closer to answers now than I’d been before. Bennie left when I did.

She’d hopped on her motorcycle and ridden off into the night.

It was then I’d realized that she smelled like gasoline because of her bike. Had the man who’d died also ridden a motorcycle? Was that the smell that had saturated him?

I had so many questions.

All I had in my cupboards was some coffee, so I made myself a pot and then sat down at my desk. The first thing I wanted to do was call Marjorie’s landlord again.

He answered on the first ring, and I explained who I was.

“Right, right. You called earlier. Sorry. I’ve had other things to do besides return phone calls.”

“I only need a moment of your time. I just need to know if you called the cable company for one of your residents.”

“No, I didn’t call the cable company for anyone this week. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Was one of the residents complaining that they weren’t getting their TV stations again? Those young people. Don’t they have anything better to do than watch TV?”

He went off on a tangent and, at the first opportunity, I bowed out of the conversation. I had the answer I needed.
Someone wanted to get his hands on that costume. Why? Was there something special about it?

Next, I
looked up the prescription I’d found on Paulette’s desk. I wanted to know what she was taking medication for.

I typed in the last
seven letters and only one RX came up. A drug called Exocotain. I read the description and discovered it was for anxiety and depression. I scrolled down to read the fine print. It was also capable of causing hallucinations and paranoia.

I sat back and chewed on that information, sipping on my coffee as I did so. What if Paulette’s medicine was causing her to act in strange ways? What if she was behind some of the acts at the school?

I
shook my head. Not Paulette. I didn’t want to believe she could be behind this. I wanted to think my old friend had her life together and that her motivations in hiring me were pure.

Then who?

I mentally ran through my clues, evidence, and suspects.

The two biggest clues were Scarlet’s dead body
and the man who’d been found in the orchestra pit.

There was the vandalism, the girl with red hair, the smell of gasoline, the unlatched padlock on the gated hallway, the wet footprints leading to the bathroom, and the man I’d chased through the parking lot.

Arie could have the most to gain from the publicity generated by everything happening at the theater. Except there hadn’t been a lot of publicity yet, not when I really thought about it. I’d yet to see one news article mentioning her. Plus, Arie had been locked in that closet with me.

Bennie had smelled like gasoline, but that was only because she drove a motorcycle.

Someone was arguing with Scarlet outside of her apartment a week before she died. I had no idea who.

Then there was Rose, the supposed ghost. I wondered if Clarice had done any research yet
. Maybe now was the time to find out.

CHAPTER 18

I walked
across the street to The Grounds, my favorite coffeehouse. I mumbled good morning to my friend Sharon, who owned the place, and ordered a latte and a cranberry muffin.

“Clarice here?” I asked. Clarice was Sharon’s niece.

“She’s upstairs. I’ll call her down.”

I
sat down at a corner table. I’d no sooner taken a bite of my pastry than Clarice appeared.

“I’ve been hoping to catch up with you!”
She slid into the seat across from me, some papers in her hands. “Rose is real.”

“What?”

She nodded adamantly. “It’s true. Rose was a teacher at Oceanside. She was only there for three months before she died. Everyone was very quiet about her death because they didn’t want to frighten the students.”

“Tell me more.”

“Her first play was going to be
The
Wizard of Oz
.”

I swallowed hard, remembering
Scarlet’s shoes and socks sticking out from behind the curtain. I remembered thinking that it reminded me of the Wicked Witch after the house had been dropped on her. Coincidence? I didn’t know.

Then there was the message on the mirror
.
I’ll get you, my pretty
. Could the trail of yellow gasoline represent the yellow brick road? What would be next … flying monkeys?

“Rose
was there working on some props,” Clarice continued. “When the police arrived at the scene, they discovered one of the props had fallen over, close to the orchestra pit, which was the very place her body was found. There was nothing to prove foul play.”

Uh oh. She’d been found in the orchestra pit
, the same location where the man had been found last night? Coincidence? Or was someone making a statement?

“Was it
unusual for her to work late?”

“Funny you ask
ed.” Clarice grinned. “I hope you don’t mind that I did this. But I actually found Rose’s mom and called her.”

I raise
d my eyebrows. “I’m impressed.”

“Yeah, I know. Right? So, she said that Rose was very concerned about doing a good job with this play. She
wanted to start off at the school on the right foot, and she had a tendency to be a perfectionist. She spent many evenings working late, so it didn’t come as a surprise to her mom that she was at the school alone at that hour.”

“So her mom had no suspicions that there may have been something
sinister at play?”

Clarice shook her head. “Nope. Not at all. She did tell me one thing that I thought was interesting, though.”

“What’s that?”

“Rose’s brother
, Peter Hines, now works for Zollin Industries.”

***

It was a crazy whim. I knew it was. Despite that, I pulled up to one of the sports complexes in Virginia Beach. I knew very well this could turn out to be a rabbit trail, but it was a chance I needed to take.

I walked in and a woman behind the front counter said the Virginia Beach Sand Sharks were practicing—just what I was hoping.
The receptionist was young with a rope of blonde hair braided down her back. Perhaps her youthfulness could work in my favor.

“I r
eally need to talk to the coach,” I told her, leaning casually against the desk, hoping to convey a friendly vibe.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
She shook her head and stared at me, cheerfully stern.

“It’s important,” I told her.

“It’s not possible.” She continued to stare.

This was going to be harder than I thought.
“We’re old friends.”

She squinted, doubt lacing her eyes. “Really?”

I nodded. “Really.”

She shrugged. “You still can’t see him.”

I let out a long, drawn out sigh. I needed a Plan B. In the distance, I spotted a young man walking down the hallway with an armful of balls. Two teetered precariously on edge. At the same time, someone entered the building behind me.

This was my chance.

As the receptionist turned to greet a man in a business suit, a wayward ball bounced from the loaded arms of the young man in the distance. I grabbed it and subtly kicked it toward the semi-important looking man who’d just walked in. He dodged it but ran into a potted plant in the process.

“Johnny! You’ve got to be careful!” the woman scolded before turning back to the guest to apologize.
“Mr. Jennings, are you okay?”

At that moment,
I ducked below the desk and slipped around the corner. I had no idea where I was going, but I kept moving, especially when I heard the receptionist ask where I’d disappeared to. Finally, the wall changed from solid concrete to plastic windows. On the other side, I saw the soccer field.

I slipped through the next door and hurried onto the field. I quickly spotted Roberto
with a whistle in his mouth, yelling at one of the players. He wore soccer shorts and cleats, as well as a yellow jersey.

Yes, he definitely
looks like a young Antonio Banderas.

“Roberto!” I said, approaching him.

He didn’t even look my way.

“Excuse me! Roberto!” I waved my arms, drawing nearer.

He glanced at me and professionalism washed over him for a moment. Something in his gaze changed as I got closer. He was trying to place me, I realized. I wouldn’t let him know who I was.

Yet.

“Can I help you?” he asked, an annoyed edge to his voice.

“I just need a few minutes of your time.”

He pulled his eyes away from the game for a moment. “Do I know you?”

I shrugged. “Not really. I met you the other day.”

“At Club 9?”

I shook my head. “At Paulette’s.”

The smile disappeared from his face. “That’s right. You’re her lawyer friend.” He said “lawyer” with the same disdain others used when saying “taxes” or “colonoscopy.”

I was
surprised anyone would even entertain the idea I was a lawyer since I was dressed in jeans and flip-flops and had my hair pulled back in a ponytail. “I’m not a lawyer.”

His gaze hardened. “What are you doing here? Spying on me? Reporting back to Paulette? Because I
’m not doing anything I shouldn’t be. Even if I were, Paulette and I are separated now. I’m allowed to.”

“You really
don’t like Paulette, do you?”

“She kicked me out of the house and onto the street with nothing but the
clothes on my back. And my car,” he added. “But that was only because the title was in my name. I made sure her father wasn’t with us when we were shopping for some new wheels. But still, I would have done anything for her.”

“Then why did you cheat on her?”

“I never cheated on her!” His voice rose, his Brazilian accent with it.

“She thinks you used her for her money.”
I was inclined to agree after his remark about the car. He’d plotted that devious move.

“She thinks wrong. She was never around for me to show her how much I appreciate her.”

“Where was she?”

“Working out, for starters.”

“Paulette works out?” I tried to form a mental picture but couldn’t.

He nodded. “Every morning. She’s stronger than you think. When she’s not with her personal trainer, she’s usually at home drinking.”

I shifted. “Does she do that a lot?”

“She’s trying to pretend she’s not a disappointment to her father.”

I didn’t know whether to argue or agree. Instead, I changed the subject. “Look, I’m not here to talk about you and Paulette. I’m not a lawyer, and I wasn’t hired to follow you. I just have questions.”

He bristled. “About?”

“Does the name Scarlet ring a bell?”

He shook his head. “Can’t say it does.”

“Were you dating her?”

“I’m not dating anyone. Even
if I were, I’m allowed now. Paulette ended things.” He looked back on the field. “Keep doing the drills. Keep your eye on the ball, Wickerson!”

“So you’re denying your involvement with Scarlet?” I clarified.

“Unequivocally. Now I need to get back to work. Excuse me.” He raised the whistle to his lips.

“Wait! One more question!”
I still didn’t believe him, but I had more questions in the meantime.

“
Look, lady.” Roberto stared daggers at me. “Are you trying to get me fired? Because this is all I’ve got. If I lose this job, I’m done.”

“It’s a
bout Oceanside Middle School.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, that. It was
Paulette’s pet project. She was obsessed with it. She was the one who convinced her father to buy the place. She’s desperate to prove herself, especially after the dinner cruise fiasco.”

“Are you desperate to do just the opposite?”
I locked my gaze with his.

His nostrils flared.
“What’s that mean?”

“I mean, are you
desperate to see her fail? She hurt you. Humiliated you. Left you on the street with almost nothing. Maybe you want to see bad things happen to her.”

He stepped back. “If you think I’m the one vandalizing the property, you’re crazy.
I’m barely holding on as it is. I don’t want to be deported.”

“Even if it means ruining Paulette?”

“Look, I don’t like the woman for what she’s done to me, but I’m not stupid. I’m not going to kill someone to get revenge.”

Something about his unwavering gaze made me believe him. “Know anyone who might want to shut the whole place down before it ever really gets off the ground?”

He looked at me, long and hard. “Yeah, I do.”

I waited. When he didn’t say anything, I tilted my head. “Who?”

“Paulette.”