Smoky Joe moved about so frantically inside his carrier, I nearly dropped him before we reached the cottage door.
“I know. You smell the great outdoors and long to go roaming. Sorry, pal, but I can’t let you do that.”
“Meow!” he answered, sounding very unhappy indeed.
I set him free in the hall and followed him into the kitchen, where I found my mother humming along to a sixties song on the radio as she set the kitchen table—for three.
“I’m glad you’re in a much better mood,” I said as I fed Smoky Joe his dinner.
“I’m feeling a bit calmer. Phil Demuth called, and we had a long chat. He says the police can’t charge me based solely on what people heard me say to Ilana the other morning.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” I gestured to the table. “Is Tom coming for dinner?”
“No. I told him we need to spend some time apart to think about our marriage.”
My mother cocked her head at me. “Do you know where he disappeared to as soon as he delivered me to the police station? To call Ilana’s brother to break the news to him.” She grimaced. “Turns out he and Tom had gotten pretty close when Tom and Ilana were dating.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
She dropped into a chair and sighed. She’d put on lipstick and eye shadow as usual, but her air of despair made her look all of her fifty-six years. “A few of my friends told me I was a fool to marry a man twelve years younger than me, but Tom and I were madly in love. Yes, madly in love.” A smile hovered around her lips. “In fact, it was Tom who insisted we make it official. He was so attentive. So caring.”
“I saw how Ilana was behaving,” I said. “It was so—blatant. Almost as though she was acting.”
My mother nodded as she thought. “Funny, that crossed my mind—afterwards. But I’m more concerned about Tom’s behavior. He was like a puppy dog, lapping it all up.” Her lip curled. “If I were going to kill someone, it would be Tom, not Ilana.”
Time to change the subject. “Then who’s coming to dinner?”
“Who do you think? Dylan, of course. He called to see how I was holding up. I told him I was making dinner and invited him to join us. He’ll be here as close to six thirty as he can make it.”
“Oh!” For a minute I was too surprised to say anything else. “I’m glad you did. With our work schedules, Dylan and I don’t get to have dinner together very often during the week.”
My mother fixed her gaze on me. “Carrie, it was nervy of me to invite myself to stay here, but I was desperate. I promise it won’t be for long. And while I’m here, I don’t want to keep you from your boyfriend.”
“Good to know. Anything you’d like me to prepare?”
“Not a thing.” She stood. “I’m going to lie down for half an hour; then I’ll add a few ingredients to the salad and heat up what dishes need heating up that I bought in that fantastic gourmet place in town.”
I changed into jeans and a T-shirt, then plopped down on the living room sofa to watch the local news station. I clicked on the closed captioning and turned down the volume so it wouldn’t disturb my mother. A young Latina reporter questioned Dirk and Serena outside the hotel where Ilana had been murdered early that morning. They expressed shock and sorrow that someone they had known and worked with over a period of years had been so brutally murdered while they slept a short distance away in their rooms.
Someone they had known and worked with over a period of years. That sounded interesting. It must have struck the reporter as interesting as well, because she then asked if they knew if anyone else Ilana had worked with would have reason to kill her.
Dirk let out a false laugh. “In our business, egos can get easily bruised. Tempers flare. But deep down we movie people are practical realists. After any burst of emotion, we move on and work together as a team to create a movie our audience will love. That’s our job. Our purpose in life.”
Wow. He’s as good a spin doctor as he is a director.
“I see,” the reporter said. “So you don’t think anyone Miss Reingold knew might have murdered her?”
“Of course not! We all loved Ilana.”
The reporter turned to Serena. “Do you feel the same way, Miss Harris?”
Serena frowned. “I feel the deepest sorrow for Ilana and her family, and frankly fear for my own safely. I am terrified that a crazed serial killer is going around murdering women. What kind of a place is Clover Ridge? Poor Ilana was the second woman to be killed in two days. I’ve asked your police chief to place an officer outside our hotel, but he claims there isn’t enough manpower to do that.”
Serena glared at Dirk. “I’m hoping the studio will provide a private guard until the murderer is apprehended.”
What a diva! But I couldn’t blame her. I’d be petrified in her situation.
“Are you planning to continue filming your movie?” the reporter asked Dirk.
“There is the possibility that we will. A good deal depends on whether I can find a suitable replacement for poor Ilana. It won’t be easy, but I have started interviewing actresses for the role.” Dirk released a deep sigh. “Tomorrow morning we’re holding a brief memorial to celebrate Ilana’s illustrious life. Sadly, none of us will be attending her funeral, as it’s being held in her home state of Pennsylvania.”
He put on a brave face. “But movie people are resilient. Firestone Productions hopes to carry on with this project. If I can find the right person for the part, I intend to see it through.” He glanced at Serena. “As does everyone involved. We’ll soldier on as usual.”
I chuckled as I clicked off the TV. Dirk made his cast and crew sound like a troop of Marines ready to go into battle. Though most of it was blatant PR, I found it interesting that he was already on the hunt for Ilana’s replacement. Despite Dirk’s claim that they were quick to get past personality clashes, it was obvious that Ilana had had a volatile personality. She might have offended someone grievously.
She’d broken off her engagement to Tom, which meant I couldn’t leave him off the list of suspects. Especially if she happened to have rebuffed him a second time.
At six fifteen my mother appeared. She’d changed into another blouse and pants and looked well rested.
“That’s a great bed you have in your guest room,” she said. “Much more comfortable than the one in the house Tom and I were renting.” She grinned. “Maybe I’ll stay here indefinitely.”
My expression must have revealed the shock her words had given me, because she burst out laughing. “I’m only teasing, Carrie. But that nap was the best sleep I’ve had in ages.”
I hesitated, then said what I was thinking. “You and Tom haven’t been getting along?”
“Not for some time. I thought it was because he wasn’t getting any parts. Oh, a bit part here, a commercial there, but nothing like this movie. I even broached the possibility of his going back to his old job.” She grimaced. “That blew up in my face. And then he was asked to audition for the role of Luke in this movie. He was thrilled, but it didn’t help things between us. When I heard he’d be playing opposite Ilana—frankly, I was worried.”
“Why? Did you think Tom was still in love with her?”
My mother shrugged. “The truth is, until recently, I’d never given it much thought. I met Tom a few years after their relationship had ended. After she ended it.”
“I figured it would be her doing,” I said, not wanting to tell my mother that I’d Googled Ilana. “Did Tom ever say why she broke it off with him?”
“Only in general terms. They had a whirlwind romance. The successful financier and the beautiful actress. They got engaged and were planning their wedding when Ilana got cold feet. She grew more and more distant. She finally told Tom she wasn’t ready to get married—though she was no kid at the time. He was devastated, but he insisted he was over her. And we were happy!” My mother said the last sentence emphatically, as if she wanted to convince me—or herself.
I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tight. “I’m sorry, Mom. Stay here as long as you like and decide what you want to do with the rest of your life.”
My mother reached up to kiss my cheek. “Thank you, Carrie. I never expected that you would turn out to be my safe haven.” She glanced down at her watch. “Oh my! Enough of this chitchat. Dylan will be here soon. Let’s have dinner ready when he arrives.”
She had made some wonderful selections at Gourmet Delight—fish baked in what smelled like heavenly sauce, a platter of asparagus covered with slivered almonds, whipped potatoes, and a salad of baby greens with honeyed walnuts, strawberries, and goat cheese. There were Italian pastries for dessert.
“What a treat,” I exclaimed.
“Let’s not forget the mini croissants.” She gestured with her chin. “They’re on the counter.”
“I love these!” I removed them from the paper bag and slid them into the toaster oven to warm up.
Dylan showed up a few minutes later. He took me in his arms and kissed me, then gave my mother a peck on the cheek, which pleased her no end.
Who is this woman and what has she done with my mother?
Dylan handed me a bottle of wine. “A chilled Chablis,” he said.
My mother lifted it deftly from my grasp. “I’ll do the honors. You and Dylan sit down and start on the pâté.”
“I didn’t know—” I shut up as I watched her remove a dish of pâté from the refrigerator.
Dylan’s eyes were gleaming. “Is that from Gourmet Delight? I love their pâté.”
“I do too,” I said, “though it’s so expensive.”
My mother waved the corkscrew in her hand. “An occasional indulgence is good for the soul.”
“Why are you in such a good mood?” I asked. “You spent the morning being interrogated by the police and you’re taking a break from your husband.”
“The truth?” She paused to fill our three wineglasses. “Because I feel free. As though I’m on vacation. All the stress that built up this past month is gone—at least for now. My lawyer assured me that they can’t charge me based on my outburst, and I believe him. As for Tom—I’m very hurt and disappointed, but maybe it’s time to call it quits on our marriage. He was very sweet when he drove me here, but I think he’s secretly relieved that I decided to move out of our rented house.”
Dylan lifted his glass. “Here’s to you, Linda—er, Brianna. You’re one hell of a brave woman.”
“To you, Mom.” I sipped my wine.
“Thank you both,” my mother said. She smiled at Dylan. “Linda will do. I’ve decided my Brianna days are over.”
I giggled. “Whatever made you change your name in the first place?”
My mother shrugged. “I thought it made me sound … younger. Silly, isn’t it?”
I smeared pâté on a croissant and took a bite. Ah, heaven!
“My lawyer also said my best chance of avoiding all future charges regarding Ilana’s murder will be when her killer is found—the sooner the better.”
“Lieutenant Mathers is an excellent detective,” Dylan said. “He’s recently solved some homicide cases.”
My mother grinned. “Imagine my surprise when Phil told me that my own daughter had played a major role in solving those cases.”
I glanced at Dylan, who was frowning. To downplay the situation, I said, “I only did some checking; asked a few questions.”
“Linda, Carrie isn’t a trained investigator,” Dylan said. “She came close to getting herself killed when she tracked down one of those murderers.”
“You’re a trained investigator, Dylan. I’m sure you can give my daughter some advice on how to stay safe while chasing down clues.” My mother looked at Dylan, then at me. “I’d feel so much better knowing that someone close to me was actively looking for the person who killed Ilana Reingold.”