Framed For Murder (An Anna Nolan Mystery) (9 page)

I walked up behind her and said, “Hi, Amy, what are you doing?”

She whirled around in surprise, swinging the poker toward me in defence. Wendy growled and leapt at the poker, knocking Amy to the ground.

“Get her off me, get her off!” Amy screamed as she wrestled for the poker.
Wendy clenched it in her teeth and growled, shaking her head.

“Wendy, off!” I commanded, hauling on her leash.
She growled even louder and Amy screamed again before letting go of the poker.

A man’s face suddenly appeared over the fence.
“What’s going on in there?” he called. “Hey, Amy, do you want me to call the police?”

“No!” Amy and I both shouted.
Startled, we exchanged a look. Amy looked frantic. “No,” she mouthed at me, her eyes begging me to comply.

“It’s okay, Mister,” I called.
“My dog thought the poker was a stick. When Amy didn’t throw it, my dog grabbed it and Amy tripped and fell. Wendy, lie down!” I grabbed the poker from her mouth and shoved Wendy onto the grass. She whined, flattening herself onto her belly while I helped Amy up.

“Gee, lady, you should have better control of your dog.
A dog that big could really hurt someone,” the man said.

“I’m okay,” Amy called, brushing herself off.
“Thanks for checking, Jim. That was very kind of you.”

The man shook his head and disappeared while Amy and I gazed at each other.
My hair had toppled out of its knot and was hanging in my face while Amy’s shirt had torn from her shorts.

“You’re Anna Nolan,” she said in a soft, girlish voice.
“I recognize you. You used to be Jack’s wife.”

“That’s right.
I was just stopping by to see if you could give me a manicure. I hope you can forgive this misunderstanding with my dog. I don’t know what’s got into her lately.” I said this over my shoulder as I strolled over to have a look at the fire pit. When Amy saw what I was doing, she hurried after me. Bending to examine the pile of clothes, I spotted a man’s white shirt lying on top.

“What’s this, Amy?” I asked.

She flushed and bit her bottom lip. “Uh, these are just some old things I don’t wear anymore,” she said. “I wanted to get rid of them.”

“Really?” I said.
“Most people donate their clothes to charity when they don’t want them anymore.”

“I guess I’m just too lazy to bother,” she said, twisting her fingers together.

“Why didn’t you just throw them in the garbage, then? Why go to all the trouble of burning them? Unless you’ve got something to hide?”

Amy laughed nervously.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Anna. I have nothing to hide.”

I bent down to pick up the shirt, revealing a pair of men’s white briefs underneath.

“Hey!” Amy shrieked, snatching the underwear off the pile, only to expose a pair of men’s black dress socks.

“Amy Bright, either you’re a cross-dresser or you’re the worst liar in the world,” I said.
“Who do these clothes really belong to? Or, should I say, who did they used to belong to? You were seeing Jack, weren’t you?” Amy gasped, and I pressed my advantage. “These were Jack’s clothes, weren’t they? What are you doing with them, and why are you burning them?”

Amy’s eyes darted around the yard as if she was afraid someone was spying on us from the shadows.
She stepped a little closer to me. “Please, Anna, don’t tell anybody,” she said in a low, urgent voice. “Yes, these are Jack’s things. The last time he came over, he asked me to do some laundry for him so that he wouldn’t have to go to the laundromat. I told him that I didn’t mind.”

“When was that, Amy?”

Her voice got even quieter, as if she were a small child confessing to a transgression. “Last Thursday, the day he died. He followed me home after we were finished shooting and stayed for the afternoon. I barbecued him a steak for supper. Only, no one knows that Jack was here, and I was afraid to say so in case I got in trouble. That English police sergeant was over here today, asking about Jack. Please don’t tell him about the clothes, Anna – he might get the wrong idea.” Amy looked at me beseechingly, her big blue eyes looking scared.

“Look, Amy,” I said, “maybe we should sit down and talk about this.
Sergeant Tremaine has been asking me about Jack, too.”

Amy smiled.
“Oh, I’d like that, Anna. I’ve been so nervous since Jack died, I didn’t know what to do. It would be nice to talk to someone else about it.”

I gestured toward the deck.
“Shall we?”

“Okay,” she said, leading me to a table and some chairs.
I was excited, feeling in charge of the situation for a change. I had finally found someone who was more afraid than I was. I took a deck chair while Amy perched on the bench beside me.

“How long did you know Jack?” I asked.

“Not long, just a few weeks. We met on the movie set. He was really nice to me. We used to talk about acting while we were waiting for our scenes. Once, he even took me to a party for the actors and the director at an expensive restaurant. I mean the actors with big parts, not us extras. After that, Jack came over a couple of times for drinks. He said my house was real homey and he missed having a woman waiting for him at home. Jack was lonely, you know.”

“Yeah, poor Jack,” I said.
She nodded, not noticing my sarcastic tone. “How long was he with you last Thursday, Amy?”

She closed her eyes to remember.
“Let me see. He came to the house around three o’clock after he was done for the day. He parked his car in my garage so that no one would see it in the driveway. Jack said that we should keep our friendship secret because the director didn’t like the actors dating each other. ‘That kind of thing can cause trouble on the set,’ he said.”

More likely, he didn’t want to be spotted around town in case word got back to me.

“We had a couple of beers, and one thing led to another – you know.
Later on, we had supper, and he left around 6:20 to take care of some business. I know that it was 6:20 because I had a 6:30 hair appointment and I was watching the time. And that was the last time I ever saw him.” A tear slid down Amy’s cheek, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand.

“Did he say where he was going?” I prompted.

“No, he didn’t tell me. To be truthful, I was a tiny bit jealous. I heard Jack tell a guy once that he had some ‘business’ to take care of when he meant that he was coming to see me. I thought it was pretty cute at the time, referring to me as “business.” So, when he told me last Thursday that he had some business to see to, I thought that he was leaving me to see another woman.”

“Was Jack seeing anyone else from the movie, Amy?”

“I don’t know, Anna. I’m not there all that much. They only need me for a few scenes now and then. But Jack was good-looking and funny and he flirted with the actresses and the female crew members all the time, so he might have been seeing someone else and not told me.”

“Would that have hurt your feelings, Amy?”

She shrugged and smiled. “Not so much, Anna. Jack and I both knew that we were just having some fun together. I did ask him once if he was serious about someone, though. He wore this diamond and ruby ring all the time, you know, and I wondered if a girlfriend had given it to him. He told me that it was from an old flame, but she had died, so he wore it in memory of her. That’s why he was so lonely – he couldn’t get over her, even though she died years ago.” Amy sighed. “Jack was so romantic.”

I just about gagged when I heard about the ring.
I had given it to him the night before we were married. It had been my grandfather’s ring, a handsome, square-cut diamond with a fat ruby set on each side. Pretty valuable, but my father wouldn’t wear it because he thought it was too gaudy. He gave it to me to give to Jack, however, saying that it would suit an actor just fine. Jack loved that ring and wore it all the time. I tried to picture his body lying on the ground on the night of the murder. I couldn’t remember seeing the ring, and I was sure that it would have caught my eye if he had been wearing it.

“Amy, did Jack wear the ring over to your house on Thursday?” I asked.

She screwed up her eyes to think. “I’m pretty sure he did, Anna. He always wore it when he wasn’t filming.”

“Any chance he left it behind with you?”

“Oh, no, I’m sure he didn’t. He hardly ever took it off.”

I thought for a moment.
I couldn’t believe that this simple-minded woman had killed Jack, but whoever had done so must have taken the ring. Now we had both the ring and the missing gun to incriminate the murderer, if he – or she – still had them in his or her possession.

“Amy, I think that we can help each other out,” I said.
Her eyes widened and she looked hopeful. “Inspector Tremaine suspects me of killing Jack because Jack left me some insurance money, but I didn’t do it, and I want to find out who did. You know the people over at the movie set – are they still filming, by the way?”

“Yes.
They flew someone in yesterday to replace Jack. They’ll have to reshoot the scenes that he was in.”

“Okay, I want you to find out all the gossip you can about Jack.
Talk to the crew, talk to the other extras, and try to find out if Jack was seeing someone else. I know that your feelings could get hurt, Amy, but Sergeant Tremaine suspects both of us, so if we find out who really killed Jack, we’ll be off the hook.

Amy nodded her head eagerly.
“That’s a really good idea, Anna. But what should I do with the rest of Jack’s clothes?”

I paused.
The clothes were pretty important evidence. I didn’t want to rat Amy out to the police, but I was afraid to hold back something as crucial as Jack’s whereabouts on the day of his murder.

“Look, Amy, I think that it would be a good idea if you told Sergeant Tremaine about last Thursday,” I said.
She looked frightened and shook her head no. “Now, wait a minute, Amy. Just hear me out. Tremaine has to find out where Jack was the day he died, right? He’s not going to rest until he’s got Jack’s whole day figured out. He’s bound to find out that Jack was here sooner or later, and if you hold out on him, it’s going to make you look guilty. You don’t want that, do you?”

Amy shook her head, looking worried.
“You’re probably right, Anna, I should tell him, but it’s just that the sergeant’s so scary. I’m afraid to talk to him. Please, can you be here when I tell him?”

She stared imploringly into my face, and I did a mental eye roll.
I’d never seen anyone look so helpless before. What the hell, I’d help Amy if she told Tremaine the truth. The closer the sergeant got to finding the killer, the better off I’d be.

“Sure, Amy, I can do that for you,” I said.
“I’m sure that he’ll appreciate your help, and it’ll look better if you volunteer the information.”

“You’re right, Anna.
Can we call him right now and get it over with?”

And that’s how I ended up having a three-way conversation with the last woman to ever sleep with my ex-husband and the cop investigating his death.
Actually, the conversation between Tremaine and Amy was pretty amazing to watch. When she had been alone with me, Amy had radiated a helpless, child-like quality. With Tremaine, that quality somehow amplified into full-blown, pheromone-rattling sex appeal. Amy was like a real-life Jessica Rabbit. When Tremaine arrived, she somehow managed to squeeze him onto the bench beside her. She was so close to him, he had to keep his elbows down while he was taking notes to avoid jabbing her in the ribs. It was amusing to watch him trying to maintain a professional demeanour with Amy being so openly seductive.

“I guess I got confused as to which day you were talking about when you dropped by before, Sergeant Tremaine,” she was saying.
“But then Anna came over for a manicure and we started talking about Jack. I told her that Jack was here with me on the afternoon he died. She thought it was really important to tell you. Jack was a sweet, dear man, and I would do anything to help you catch the person who killed him.” She stared up into his eyes like he was the woodsman come to save her from the big, bad wolf. Tremaine glanced down into her upturned face; at that angle, it would have been impossible for him to miss the magnificent cleavage so amply displayed by her low-cut t-shirt.

“Very admirable, Ms. Bright,” he said, a little smile playing at his lips.

“Please call me Amy, Sergeant Tremaine.”

“Of course.
Now you mentioned that you have some of Mr. Nolan’s clothing?”

“Yes, sir, I put it in a bag for you.”
She turned and picked up a plastic grocery bag containing the clothes that had escaped the fire. “Here it is.”

“Ms. Nolan,” Tremaine said, turning to me, “Ms. Bright claims your ex-husband was wearing a diamond and ruby ring when he left here last Thursday.
Are you certain that Mr. Nolan was not wearing that ring when you discovered his body?” He waited for my answer, the smile completely gone from his face now.

“Yes, Sergeant, I’m sure that he wasn’t wearing the ring.”

“And from Ms. Bright’s description, you believe that it was the same ring you gave Mr. Nolan on the night before your wedding?”