CHAPTER THREE
As Abby and I left the office and headed for the jail, she said, “What a charming town. And this is the famous Greene Street.”
“Famous?”
“Aren’t you the Goddess of Greene Street?”
I blushed. “It’s just a nickname Case gave me. I guess it stuck.”
“Deservedly. Marco and I read about the double murder case you solved that earned you that title. We also learned that Case had been suspected of the murders and you cleared his name. Well done!”
“Thanks,” I said. “But it doesn’t compare to all the cases you’ve solved.”
“It’s just helping innocent people stand up for themselves. That’s what we do.”
We cut down a side street over to White and proceeded to the jail, chatting about our lives and how our towns compared, until we came to the big brick building that housed the jail.
“This is it,” I said.
Abby sized it up and took a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”
Inside the four-story redbrick building we stopped at the bulletproof-glass window to state our purpose. We had to slide our IDs through the opening, put our purses and cell phones in a locker, then pass through a metal detector. Fortunately, they let me take my iPad with me.
We were escorted into a wide, white-walled room that contained a long gray Formica counter, a clear plastic partition that separated the visitor side from the inmate side, and a row of black vinyl chairs with half walls dividing each cubicle. Large holes had been cut in the middle of the clear plastic partition for conversation. We sat down in one cubicle and waited for Jillian to arrive. We were the only visitors in the room.
Within a few minutes, a jail guard ushered her in. A tall beauty with long, copper-colored hair and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose, Jillian had the same green eyes and heart-shaped face her cousin had. She sat down in a black chair and leaned forward on her hands, looking pale in her orange jumpsuit. “When am I getting out of here?”
“Your lawyer will be here”—I checked my watch—“any minute now. He can tell you what’s going to happen next. We wanted time to talk to you first.”
“This is Athena Spencer,” Abby said. “She and her partner, Case, own a detective agency here in Sequoia. Athena knows her town. She has connections that are going to help us.”
“Thank heaven for that,” Jillian said with a sigh. “I have to get home to my little angel.”
“Jillian,” I said, redirecting her attention, “your attorney’s name is Kevin Coreopsis. He’s smart and professional, and I think you’ll like him. I’ve worked with him in the past.”
I didn’t mention that Kevin and I had recently dated. My mother had set us up, and it hadn’t gone well. Kevin had been looking for something serious, and I’d had no intention of getting involved with anyone. I also didn’t mention that Kevin had once worked for Grayson Talbot Jr., the man I’d helped put in prison after he’d tried to bury me under a building. Since then, Kevin had made up for his wrongdoings and we’d managed to work together amicably, so there was no reason to muddy up the waters with that little piece of info.
“You can’t begin to understand what I’ve been through,” Jillian said to her cousin. “I was questioned for hours!”
“I’m so sorry, Jill,” Abby said. “I’m doing everything I can to prevent that from happening again.”
“You know what I need right now?” Jillian asked. “A hug.”
“I wish I could give you one,” Abby said.
Jillian plucked at her shirt. “Can you believe this horrid outfit? Orange is definitely not my color.”
Abby and I laughed at that.
Jillian frowned. “It wasn’t a joke.”
Abby looked at me. “Do you want to start?”
I gazed at her in surprise. “You want me to start?”
“Sure.”
“Um. Okay.” I didn’t want to seem nervous, but I was. After learning about Abby Knight and her record of solving crimes, I suddenly felt out of my league questioning her cousin.
I retrieved my iPad and opened a new Word file labeled Jillian. “Why don’t you start by describing your movements from the time you arrived at the Waterfront’s ballroom until the show started?”
“My movements?” Jillian asked.
“Where were you before the show started?” Abby explained.
Jillian leaned back in her chair, more relaxed now. “Oh. I was in my hotel room.”
“After that, Jill,” Abby said, “describe what you did when you left your room. Be specific.”
“Okay. My hotel room was on the third floor, so I took the elevator to the ground floor and headed to the ballroom at the rear of the building. The runway was already set up, so I circled it, walked up a small flight of stairs, and went backstage through a big curtain.”
I typed diligently, trying to squeeze every detail in as quickly as Jillian spit them out. Abby waited a moment before continuing. “Describe the backstage area.”
“There were three dressing rooms off to the left side, not even dressing rooms, really, just little wooden, curtained boxes with dirty tilting mirrors and folding chairs inside. It was very low-rent.”
“What did you do next?” I asked.
“I grabbed three water bottles and set them on the chairs inside the dressing rooms for the models, just like I did the first night.”
After typing her words, I looked up at her through the glass. “The first night?”
Jillian nodded. “The fashion show took place over two nights. Carly died on the second night. Thursday night.”
I made a note. Fashion show was two nights. Carly poisoned on second night.
“Was anyone else around when you set out the water bottles?” Abby asked.
Jillian thought for a moment. “There were hotel staff setting up the tables in the ballroom.”
“What about backstage?” Abby asked.
“There was a sound technician behind the curtain when I first got there. I remember him because he asked me to test the microphone. And then the woman in charge of the fashion show came through the backstage door and said hello to me. Her name was Fran.”
“Fran Decker,” I told them, typing it into the iPad. “She’s the chairwoman of the Small Business Association. They’re the ones who put on the show.”
“Why was Fran backstage?” Abby asked.
“She was bringing in the wardrobes,” Jillian said. “There was a long metal rack standing behind the dressing rooms where all the clothes were hung. She said she was there to help the women adjust their outfits if they needed it.”
“And the models weren’t there yet?” Abby asked.
“No. Not at that time,” Jillian answered.
I noted it and added, “What about the water bottles? Where did you get them?”
“I stopped at a little market and purchased a small case.”
“Why do you bring water with you?” Abby asked.
Jillian shrugged. “Just to be nice, I guess. It gets hot under the stage lights. From my experience, models often refuse to eat before the show, but they appreciate the water.”
“Was it a new case?” I asked. “Did it look tampered with in any way?”
“My bottle was a pain to open,” Jillian said, “so I would say it was a brand-new case. No tampering.”
“What did you do after you put the water into the dressing rooms?” Abby asked.
“I went out into the ballroom and sat at one of the empty tables. There was plenty of time to spare, so I had a video chat with Harper and Claymore, just like I did on the first night.”
“Harper is her little girl,” Abby explained to me. “Claymore is her husband.”
I added their names to my notes. “What did you do with the remaining water bottles?”
“I only brought three with me,” Jillian answered. “I left the remaining three bottles in my hotel room for the second night.”
“Let’s focus on the second night,” I continued, “the night of Carly’s murder. When you put the water in the dressing rooms, was anyone in the immediate vicinity?”
“No one was near the dressing rooms. But on the second night, one of the models came in early.”
“How early?” Abby asked.
“I had just sat down to call Harper. So maybe forty-five minutes early?”
“Do you remember which model?” I asked.
Jillian cocked her head, thinking. “Eleni? She had dark hair with dark eye-makeup and tanned skin.”
“That sounds like Eleni,” I said.
“Did she go straight to her dressing room?” Abby asked.
“She went backstage. That’s all I know.”
“And the other two models came in while you were on your FaceTime call, right?” Abby asked.
“Right. About fifteen minutes after Eleni arrived, I saw the petite blond woman walk in. She was wearing heels that were way too high and blond extensions that didn’t really match her hair color.”
“That must be Hope Louvain,” I told them.
“Yes, her name was Hope,” Jillian said. “She was a fashion disaster from head to toe.”
“Did Hope go backstage?” Abby asked.
Jillian nodded. “She almost tripped going up the little staircase on the side of the stage. I was worried she would trip during the show.”
“What about Carly Blackburn?” Abby asked. “When did she come in?”
“I didn’t see Carly come in.” Jillian’s eyes lit up. “But I did see her leave the stage a little while later. She stomped down the stairs, shouting into her cell phone. It sounded like a heated argument. Maybe that has something to do with the murder.”
Abby watched as I typed in the information, then asked, “Do you know whom she was arguing with on the phone?”
Jillian shook her head. “She left the ballroom, so I have no idea.” She leaned forward to say in a whisper, “I didn’t even recognize Carly when she showed up the first night. She used to have this beautiful complexion with a thick head of dark amber hair, but her hair looked much thinner, and her skin was caked with makeup. I remember thinking how she hadn’t aged well.”
“So, you knew Carly before?” I asked.
“Yes. We went to Harvard at the same time. Abby, do you remember the sorority I wanted to join?”
“No, Jill. I don’t.”
“Well, Carly thought I was trying to flirt with her boyfriend, which wasn’t true. He was flirting with me. But anyway, that started a whole big fight between us, and she managed to blackball me from the sorority. We never spoke after that.”
Which meant there was bad blood between them, a convenient motive for the prosecutor. “Did you ever see Carly after your college years?” I asked.
“Not at all.”
“Did you tell anyone about your feud with Carly?” Abby asked.
Jillian didn’t answer her cousin right away. She sat sheepishly in her orange jumpsuit, tapping her fingers together.
“You did, didn’t you?” Abby said.
“I might have mentioned something to Hope on the first night. I was stewing when I realized I would be working with Carly, and Hope seemed very eager to hear my story. I didn’t think it was a big deal at the time.”
I typed it in, then asked, “When did you distribute the water bottles on the night of the murder?”
“Oh, at least an hour before the show started on both nights.”
Abby glanced at me. “That would have given someone enough time to get into the dressing room and tamper with the water before the show began.” She turned to her cousin. “Jill, are you sure you saw Carly leave the backstage area?”
“Yes,” Jillian said confidently. “About half an hour before the show started. I remember because I was curious as to whom she could’ve been arguing with.”
“Did you see Carly return to the stage?” I asked.
Jillian shook her head. “After I finished my phone call with Harper, people started showing up to take their seats in the audience. I didn’t really notice much after that, but I do know that all the models were in their dressing rooms fifteen minutes before the show started. That’s when I went backstage to go over my notes.”
“When Carly left the stage,” I asked, “was she carrying a water bottle with her?”
“Um, she might’ve been, but I didn’t notice.”
“If Carly took a drink of her water before she left the stage,” Abby said, “the poison could’ve had roughly half an hour to get into her system. What we need to know is what kind of poison it was and whether that was enough time for it to work. Otherwise, she might have been poisoned before she left home.”
“Wouldn’t she have been able to taste the poison?” I asked.
“Some poisons are tasteless. That’s another question we need answered.”
“I can call my contact on the police force,” I told her, “and ask him to check the detective’s file to find out.”
“That would be very helpful.” Abby turned to her cousin. “Walk us through what happened. How was Carly found?”
“I don’t know,” Jillian answered. “I was on stage waiting for her to come out, and someone cried out to call 911.”
“Why did you call 911 if you were onstage?” Abby asked.
“Because no one else did. It was like everyone was polarized.”
Abby paused. “Polarized?”
“No one was moving,” Jillian explained.
Abby put her hand out for me to stop writing. “She means paralyzed.”
“No,” Jill insisted. “Frozen, like the North Pole.”
Abby rolled her eyes at her cousin’s remark and smiled at me. “Just write paralyzed.”
“Well, they were frozen,” Jillian continued. “Even when I ran backstage, no one was moving. Eleni was bent over Carly’s body, and Hope was standing next to them.”
“Did you get a close look at Carly?” Abby asked.
“Not a close look, no. But I saw her. She was curled into a ball. Her eyes were wide, and it looked like she’d thrown up. It was awful.”
“I’m sorry, Jill,” Abby said.
Jillian dropped her head. “Why do they think I did it?”
A female guard approached the cubicle. “There’s an attorney here to see Jillian, but only two people are allowed in here at a time.”
“I’ll leave,” I said. I finished typing my notes and slid the iPad into my purse.
“I’ll take more notes if I learn anything else,” Abby said. “Do you want to meet up later to discuss plans?”
“Sure,” I answered. “At the office?”
“Why don’t you come over to the Waterfront Hotel and check out the ballroom?” Abby suggested. “There’s supposed to be a beauty pageant tomorrow, so the stage is still set up.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
“Thank you, Athena,” Jillian said with a brave smile. “I think you and my cousin will make a good team.”
I smiled back at her. I hoped she was right.
* * *
Spencer’s was slow when I got back, so I called Case with a progress report. But after a few rings, I got his voice mail. I figured he was busy in Saugatuck, so I didn’t leave a message. I stepped into the office to find Delphi sitting behind the desk with her feet up, drinking a cup of coffee.
“Is this what happens when I’m not around?” I asked.
“Relax,” she said. “There’s nothing to do.”
“Then why did I see Dad out front washing the windows?”
She put her feet down and sat forward. “He is?”
“Delphi, I really am going to need you to take over some of my responsibilities here,” I said, filling my coffee mug. “I’m going to be putting in more time than I thought on this new case, and you can’t let Dad do all the work.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Order inventory, organize the daily receipts, keep Niko busy, close up shop if Dad’s busy, and make sure the barn stays neat and tidy.”
“That’s a lot of work,” she said, blowing steam from her mug.
“Trust me, it’s not that bad.”
“I can’t close up every night,” she explained. “Bobby and I have dance lessons on some evenings.”
“How about tonight?”
Delphi sipped her coffee for a minute, thinking. “I can close tonight, but I’ll only agree to that as long as you let me give Abby a reading.”
I sat across from Delphi, who seemed strangely comfortable behind my desk, and countered, “Abby might not want a reading.”
“It’ll be her decision, of course,” my sister said. “Just don’t try to talk her out of it. Oh, and one more thing. You can’t judge me on how I handle your responsibilities. I’ll do them the best I know how. Okay?”
“Fine. Just make sure everything runs smoothly.”
Delphi smiled. “I can do that.”
As soon as she left, I took her place behind the desk and used my cell phone to put in a call to Bob Maguire.
“I’m on duty,” he said, “so I have to make this quick. What can I do for you?”
“I’m working on a new case, Bob, with a private investigator from New Chapel. Her cousin Jillian was the emcee at the SBA fashion show last Thursday when Carly Blackburn was killed.”
“I know all about the case. I was the one who had to go pick Jillian up in Indiana. She’s a chatty one, that girl, and also kind of mean. She called me Officer Stringbean.”
I had to suppress a chuckle. I’d known Bob since high school, when he was the class clown, a tall beanpole of a kid with orange-red hair and ears that stuck out. So, I completely understood the nickname. I could also understand Jillian’s frustration. Being picked up by the police is embarrassing at best.
Bob continued, “I’m assuming you want me to do something to put my job at risk so you can solve the case and become a hero. Does that sound about right?”
He had a point. “Actually, I was just wondering if you could find out what kind of poison was used to murder Carly.”
“Oh, is that all?” Maguire asked facetiously. “You know what you’re asking me to do, right?”
“Bob, I understand it’s risky, but I really need your help on this. Just find out the name of the poison, and that’s it.”
“In other words, you want me to sneak into Detective Walters’s office and read through his case file.”
“Is that the only way?” I asked.
He sighed. “Let me ask around, see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Bob. I really appreciate it. Have fun at your dance practice.” I waited for his answer, but there was silence on the other end of the phone. “Bob?” I looked at my phone to see if the call had ended, then put it back to my ear. “Officer Stringbean?”
“How did you find out about dance practice?” he asked finally.
“Delphi told me.”
I heard another long sigh. “Is that all she told you?”
“Yes. Why? Is there something else I should know?”
He cleared his throat and answered, “Nope.”
“What’s wrong? Are you not enjoying your lessons?”
“Let’s just say I have two left feet, and I’m not proud of it. But Delphi is loving it, and that means a lot.”
“You’re a champ, Bob. Thanks for everything. And if you feel like it’s too risky to find that information, I understand.”
I hung up with him and went to the sales floor to see that things were quiet, so I went back into the office and placed another call to Case. This time he answered.
“Hey, are you still in Saugatuck?”
“On my way back now,” he answered. “Good news. I can do most of my work from the office, so I can still help with the investigation.”
“That is good news!”
“How was the jail visit?” he asked. “What did I miss?”
“It was interesting. I learned there were four people backstage before the fashion show, not including Abby’s cousin Jillian. One of them was the victim. The others will all need to be interviewed.”
“Three suspects?”
“That’s what it seems,” I said. “Also, I’m going to meet up with Abby after dinner this evening to check out the venue. She said it’s set up for a beauty pageant, so it should be similar to the fashion show event. We’re meeting at six thirty at the Waterfront Hotel. Do you want to come?”
“You bet. I can swing by and pick you up at six fifteen.”
“It’s a date. Oh, I almost forgot. I just called Maguire and asked him to find out what kind of poison was used. He seemed reluctant to help.”
“Of course, he was,” Case said. “Giving out sensitive information could be detrimental to his career.”
“But he’s done it before.”
Case laughed. “Yep, when he was trying to impress the family. Now that he’s secured a relationship with Delphi, I’m sure he’s more concerned with keeping his job.”
“He said he would look into it.”
“Why don’t we go see Detective Walters ourselves and see what he’ll divulge? Now that we have our license, maybe he’ll help us out.”
I didn’t have the best relationship with Detective Walters. He was a good detective, but he was stubborn and sometimes a little too quick to close cases. I understood Case’s point, though. It wasn’t fair to continue pressuring Bob. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”
“We can go tomorrow whenever you can take a break from work.”
“I asked Delphi to take over some of my responsibilities, so I can go anytime. How about noon?”
“Sounds great,” he said. “What are you up to this afternoon?”
“Well, Delphi is closing the store tonight, so I’ll work here at Spencer’s until it’s time to take Niko home. You can pick me up at the house.”
“Don’t work too hard,” he joked. “I’ll see you this evening.”
* * *
Case picked me up in his newly purchased dark-green Jeep at six fifteen. I climbed in through the opening—he had removed the doors—and buckled myself in, double-checking the seat belt. I looked over at him, saw his mouth curl up at the corners, and returned his smile. Even though I hated the fact that his Jeep had no doors and was still convinced that I could fall out at any sudden turn, I did enjoy the ride, and he knew it.
I tucked my long hair behind my ears and checked the mirror only to discover that my lipstick looked dull, and the blush seemed to have faded from my cheeks.
Case gave my knee a quick squeeze. “You look beautiful as always.”
I felt a blush return. Case was so good for my ego. “Thanks.”
On the drive to the Waterfront Hotel, I couldn’t help but recollect one of our recent cases, which happened to involve the hotel owner’s son and daughter, twins Mitchell and Mandy Black. Spoiled, selfish, and perfectly suntanned, Mandy had been one of our top suspects in the scandalous murder of her groom-to-be. After accusing my sister Selene of the crime, Mandy had spent most of her grieving period at the hotel’s luxurious pool sunbathing with her bridesmaids. She had eventually been cleared of the crime and had even helped us solve it by handing over a key piece of evidence, undermining the stringent demands of her overprotective brother.
Her twin brother, Mitchell, was the general manager of the hotel and had also been a strong suspect in the murder case. Exceedingly clever and as pale as could possibly be, Mitchell was the complete opposite of Mandy. His manner was stiff, his speech elitist, and his fuse was extra short. Mitchell had eventually been cleared of the crime as well, but not before Case had all but accused him of the murder. Because of that, he had banned Case and me from the hotel, promising to call the police if we ever set foot on the property again.
Thinking back to that now, it gave me pause. “Do you think Mitchell will give us any problems?” I asked as Case squeezed the Jeep into a tight parking spot. Given that the vehicle had no doors, he didn’t need much room to park.
“I was just wondering the same thing.”
“We haven’t been back since your swan dive into the pool to avoid him,” I said.
“Maybe he’s not working here anymore. From what I recall, he wasn’t doing a very good job managing the place. And it’s not like he needs the money.”
I checked the passenger mirror again, pinched my cheeks, and combed out my hair with my fingers.
Case sighed. “Athena, you look perfect.”
I laughed. “Right. Perfectly windblown.”
He took my hand. “You seem self-conscious today. What’s going on?”
After a brief pause to consider his question, I pushed the visor back into place and looked over at him. “Abby’s just so put together.”
“And you’re not?”
“She’s got that beautiful red hair with the cute bob, and she can get away with wearing bold, bright colors. Then there’s me, with my boring, straight hair and my khakis and white button-down. I just feel drab in comparison.”
“No one’s comparing you.”
I unbuckled the seat belt. “I am.”
“Well, stop it.”
Easy for him to say.
I climbed out of the Jeep and met up with Case as we walked toward the hotel entrance. The sweet-smelling, cool, conditioned air burst out around us as the automatic doors opened. We stepped inside and glanced around. The hotel was just as elegant as I’d remembered. A large golden chandelier hung from the high ceiling over the reception hall. Behind the counter was a tall glass waterfall, filling the room with the relaxing sound of flowing water, accompanied by soft classical music.
We passed the gift shop, where Case and I had previously found our disguises to sneak into the hotel pool area. And just as I pulled out my cell phone to notify Abby of our arrival, Case said quietly, “We’ve been spotted.”
I looked across the room and locked eyes with Mitchell Black.