Cross-Stitch Before Dying (17 page)

“Beverly, it’s Ted. Did you touch anything?”

“Just Henry,” she said. “I put my purse down and patted his face. I thought he’d fainted. When he didn’t come to, I took his pulse.”

“Hold tight,” Ted said. “And don’t touch anything. I’m on my way.”

“I’m going with you,” I said.

He didn’t argue as I turned out the lights and locked the door. Instead, he called Manu and asked him to meet us at Henry’s hotel. Since the hotel was in Tallulah County rather than in the town of Tallulah Falls, he also called Detective Bailey and asked him and Detective Ray to come to the hotel as well. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Detectives Bailey and Ray again . . . especially since my fingerprints were all over Henry’s hotel room and my mother had found his body.

I
was relieved to see Manu’s white Bronco in the parking lot of Henry’s hotel when we arrived. The pit of dread that had been gnawing at my stomach returned almost immediately, however, as I heard sirens blaring nearer and nearer.

“So much about keeping this quiet from the press until there’s some sort of official word,” I muttered.

As Ted and I approached the front doors of the hotel, Detectives Ray and Bailey—along with two additional cars of law enforcement personnel—roared up to the loading area and screeched to a halt.

“Hold it right there!” Detective Bailey yelled from the passenger side window. “Don’t move until I get out of this car!”

Ted stiffened and placed a protective hand at the small of my back.

Detective Bailey put up his window and got out of the car. “What do you think you’re doing here? Neither of you have any business here. This is not your jurisdiction, Nash, and you certainly don’t have any reason to be here, Ms. Singer.”

“First off, this is a public place,” Ted said. “No one has officially confirmed that Henry Beaumont is even dead.” He nodded to the cars in which uniformed officers and plainclothes officers still sat. “Won’t you feel ridiculous if it turns out that Henry Beaumont was just passed out?”

“You said her mother—the same woman who we believe to be the last person to see Babushka Trublonski alive—thought Henry was dead,” Detective Bailey said. “I’m figuring she should know.”

“All right,” said Detective Ray, joining our happy little trio. “Let’s go upstairs and see what we’ve got.” He called for the other two carloads of police officers to stand by.

The four of us went upstairs to Henry Beaumont’s room. Detective Ray knocked on the door. Manu opened it.

I could see Mom sobbing into a fist in a chair in the corner, so I brushed past Detective Ray to go kneel in front of her.

“Mom, are you all right?” I asked.

“No. How could I possibly be all right? Henry’s dead. I’d behaved so badly toward him over this whole Babs incident, and now he’s gone.”

“Out!” Detective Bailey bellowed. “The two of you need to get out of this room immediately. Nash, take them to the seating area out in front of the elevators for now. We’ll be by to talk with them in a minute.”

I could tell from the muscle in Ted’s jaw that he was clenching his teeth, but he didn’t say anything. After all, what
could
he say? Detective Bailey was right. Mom and I shouldn’t be in the room if it was potentially a crime scene. And from the scrap of conversation I’d caught between Manu and the detectives, Henry had definitely not passed out. He was dead.

As Ted led Mom and me to the seating area, I heard Detective Ray barking orders.

“Crime scene, I want you people sweeping this room,” he said. “Bag everything! You two, go down to the front desk. I want this floor secured so that no unauthorized persons come up here. I don’t want this crime scene turned into a media circus. And get the security footage of the lobby and this floor from six this morning until now!”

The two uniformed officers rushed past, bypassed the elevators, and ran down the stairs. I could hear their heavy steps echoing as the door slammed shut.

The seating area was comprised of a brown leather sofa, two matching chairs, and end tables on either side of the sofa. Mom and I sat on the sofa, while Ted took an armchair with his back to the wall so he could see what was going on in the hallway outside Henry’s room. None of us said anything.

It wasn’t but a few minutes until Manu joined us. He sat in the chair beside Ted and, in hushed tones, told us that Detectives Bailey and Ray had asked him what he’d found upon arriving.

“I told them that when I got here, Ms. Singer opened the door and let me in,” he said. “She was in obvious distress and said she believed Mr. Beaumont to be dead. I checked his pulse and found it to be nonexistent.”

“What about time of death?” Ted asked.

“As you know, the medical examiner will only be able to narrow the time frame down to a few hours here at the scene.” I knew Manu was saying that for Mom’s and my benefit, rather than for Ted’s. “But one of the first things the crime scene techs bagged was Beaumont’s phone. Seeing what time he last made or received a call could be the easiest way to further estimate the time of death prior to autopsy.”

“Did you see any wounds?” Ted asked.

Manu shook his head. “Nothing. And I didn’t see a murder weapon either.”

“Then it’s possible Henry had a heart attack or something,” Mom said, her voice sounding hopeful. I understood her feelings. How much better it would be if Henry’s heart simply gave out as opposed to his being murdered.

“Anything’s possible,” Manu said, but he didn’t sound very convincing . . . at least, not to me.

The foregone conclusion in everyone’s mind—well, except Mom’s maybe—was that the same person who’d killed Babushka Tru had murdered Henry Beaumont. Who, why, and how were the only questions the rest of us, including Detectives Bailey and Ray, were asking ourselves.

After about thirty minutes, Detective Ray came out and asked Mom and me to come to the police station with him to answer some questions.

“I’ll drive them,” Ted said.

“You need anything else from me?” Manu asked.

“No, Manu, but I appreciate your hanging around,” Detective Ray said. “If I have any more questions, I’ll call you.” He turned back to Ted, Mom and me. “We’ll meet you at the station.”

•   •   •

On the way to the police station, I’d called Alfred. He’d told me he’d contact Cam Whitting and that one or both of them would be at the police station as soon as possible.

“Do not let your mother answer any questions,” he’d warned me.

Now I was sitting in an interrogation room with Detective Ray, staring at the huge gray caterpillars that were his eyebrows as he turned on a recording device. I knew Ted was in the observation room—he’d not been allowed to be with me as I was questioned, of course. But knowing he was there was a comfort. Also, being interviewed by Detective Ray rather than Detective Bailey was a comfort. I don’t know why Bailey had so much animosity toward me. Or maybe he and Detective Ray simply did the good-cop-bad-cop routine, and Bailey had the bad-cop role down pat.

Detective Ray recited my rights, told me I wasn’t under arrest, and was under no obligation to answer his questions, and then he asked me those questions.

“Why did you go see Henry Beaumont this morning?” he asked.

That was a good question. I couldn’t very well say that I’d gone to give the man a piece of my mind. “My mom was so upset because she believed Henry and Babs had been having an affair. She’d worked with Henry for years, and I hated to see their relationship—both personal and professional—go down the drain. I went to Henry to get the truth.”

“And what did he tell you?”

“He told me that Babs was his biological daughter,” I said. “He didn’t know it until recently—before he began shooting the picture—but he and Mita, Babs’ mother, had decided not to tell Babs yet.”

“That’s quite a revelation,” said Detective Ray. “Why would he share it with you if he and the girl’s mother were keeping it quiet?”

I shrugged. “I suppose that with Babs dead, it didn’t matter who knew anymore. Henry’s wife knew, and though she’d been hurt in the beginning, she’d made peace with it. Henry had been hoping to build a relationship with his daughter. He and Eileen, his wife, have no children, so to find Babs and then lose her in such a short amount of time was devastating to him.”

“Is that how he appeared to you this morning?” he asked. “Devastated?”

“Yes. He was very distraught,” I said. “He seemed glad that his wife was coming to join him tomorrow. Wait. Has anyone contacted her yet?”

Detective Ray nodded. “We’ve alerted police officers in her area, and they’re probably meeting with her now.”

“The poor thing. . . . I’m so sorry for her.”

“Did Mr. Beaumont say anything else to you while you were there this morning?” he asked. “Did he tell you who he suspected in the murder of his daughter?”

“No, he didn’t. We didn’t talk about the fact that she’d been murdered,” I said. “We only spoke about the sad reality of her death.”

“How did Mr. Beaumont seem when you left him?”

“He was sad. He was crying. I hugged him before I left, and then as soon as I got to the Seven-Year Stitch, I called Mom. I thought she needed to know the truth and make peace with Henry.”

“Make peace?” The giant caterpillars leapt toward Detective Ray’s hairline.

“That was a bad choice of words,” I said quickly. “I knew she’d misjudged Henry by thinking he was having an affair with Babs, and she’d refused to work with him on the film any longer, and I. . . .” I glanced at the two-way mirror in desperation. Of course, I couldn’t see Ted, but I was grasping for anything that
wouldn’t
be condemning to my mother. “I just wanted her to know the truth. I wanted her to comfort him and to let him know she was there for him.”

“What was her reaction to your news?” Detective Ray asked.

I asked myself what Ted would say to me if he could whisper in my ear right now. He’d tell me not to babble . . . to answer the questions succinctly and then stop talking. So I said, “She was supportive.”

“She wasn’t surprised?” he asked.

“I believe she was, but she was also relieved. She said she knew Henry was a better man than to have an affair with a young starlet,” I said.

“Did she mention going to see him?”

“She said she was going to call him.” I then pointed out that they had Henry’s cell phone and could confirm the call.

He smiled slightly. “We did confirm the call. When did you discover that your mother had gone to visit Mr. Beaumont at his hotel room?”

“When she called and told me that she found him lying unconscious in his room.”

“To your knowledge, were your mother and Mr. Beaumont having an affair?” Detective Ray asked.

“Certainly not! Mom was friends with both Henry
and
his wife,” I said. “That’s why she’d been upset when she thought he’d been having an affair with Babs.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason? After all, they did meet in his hotel room.”

“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m sure my mother was not romantically involved with Henry Beaumont.”

Detective Ray smiled. “Okay.”

Okay? That’s it? Okay?
Of course, I didn’t say that. I just thought it . . . vehemently. “Is that all?”

“For now,” he said. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

I refused to tell him he was welcome. Instead, I scraped my chair across the floor and stood. Detective Ray walked to the door and opened it for me. I went through it and was glad to see that Ted was waiting for me in the hall.

“Do you have the hotel’s security footage yet?” Ted asked Detective Ray.

“Yes.”

“May we see it?”

Detective Ray frowned up at Ted, who was a good head taller than he. “Why?”

“Well, Beverly and Marcy are familiar with the cast and crew of the movie Henry Beaumont had been working on,” Ted said. “Someone might slip under your radar, but they might recognize him or her as a potential suspect.”

The older man pursed his lips. “Good point. When Bailey’s finished with Ms. Singer, I’ll have him let us know and we’ll all go to the viewing room together.”

“Thanks,” Ted said.

“Thank
you
,” I told Ted as soon as Detective Ray was out of earshot. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

He inclined his head. “It’s apparent that they think they’ve already got their suspect, but if you or your mom could recognize anyone else who’d come to see Henry this morning, it’ll at least give them another person they’ll have to investigate.”

I rested my head on his chest. “You’re wonderful.”

“Don’t flatter me yet,” he said. “You might not recognize anyone.”

“Even if we don’t, you’re wonderful.”

•   •   •

It was a packed viewing room. In addition to Ted, Mom, me, Detective Ray and Detective Bailey, Alfred and Cam were there. Plus, the audiovisual guy. We were all crowded around one computer monitor watching hour after hour of people coming into the lobby. The AV guy did fast-forward it, slowing down or going back only if we saw someone we thought was familiar.

We saw the mail carrier arrive, people checking in and out, and employees arriving at, as well as leaving from, the hotel. Of course, we saw me, but that was old news to the detectives. I was stifling a yawn when something caught my eye.

“Stop,” I said. “Go back and run it at regular speed.”

The AV guy, whose name I think was Marshall Feldman, did as I’d asked. “Need it any slower?”

“Can you do that?” I asked.

“Sure.” He ran the footage forward in slow motion.

“Isn’t that Sonny Carlisle, the locations manager?” I asked Mom.

“Yes, but he’s staying at the same hotel,” she said.

“Still, I think we need to see if any of the movie people we see in the lobby turn up at Henry’s door,” I said.

“She’s right,” Ted agreed.

Detective Ray wrote
S. Carlisle
on the notepad in front of him. “Any other movie folks you see, point them out.”

In addition to Sonny, we saw Ron Fitzpatrick and a makeup artist and a cameraman Mom had recognized. Hers had been the last familiar face we’d seen.

The AV guy then called up the security footage of Henry’s floor. Sonny had gone to Henry’s room, had been let in, and had stayed for about fifteen minutes. His visit had taken place between the time that I’d left and that Mom had arrived. Before Sonny had arrived, a TCPD officer had been to Henry’s room; but other than Mom, no one had been into the room after Sonny had left.

I felt a chill. Could Sonny have killed Henry?