Doyle adjusted the showerhead.
“Is that better?” he asked.
“Much,” said Amanda. “You’re an unusual man, Mr. Malloy. Most guys prefer the bedroom, especially for the first night. You head straight to the shower.”
“There’s too much pressure in the bedroom,” said Doyle, turning the water dial to a warmer temperature. “I didn’t want our first night together to be a bunch of fumbling around, trying to impress each other.
In the shower, it’s all out in the open.”
Amanda looked down. “You can say that again.”
“See, isn’t this more fun?” asked Doyle, embracing her, pulling her closer.
Doyle went in for a kiss, and it was everything he hoped it would be. Passionate, tender, absolute bliss. He could feel himself really falling for her.
Amanda broke off the kiss to ask, “What is that?”
“Just the ol’ dingly dangly,” said Doyle, going back in for another kiss.
“No, not that,” she said, pushing him away. “Did you hear something?”
Doyle listened, then he heard it, too. “Is someone knocking?”
Then they both heard a bang that sounded like a gunshot, followed by a loud slamming sound.
Doyle and Amanda jumped, then gripped each other tighter.
Suddenly the bathroom door burst open. “Doyle, are you in there?” they heard a familiar English-accented voice say.
Doyle moved the shower curtain aside so only his face was exposed.
“William!?” said Doyle, not knowing what else to say.
“Doyle, are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just … taking a shower.”
“Oh, I see … I didn’t …” Then William noticed the lacy undergarments lying on the bathroom floor.
“You’re not cross-dressing, are you?”
Amanda moved the shower curtain aside so William could see her face.
“Hi, William,” she said.
“Well, this is dreadfully embarrassing,” said William. “Sorry, I thought perhaps you were in danger, and I may know who the killer is, and well, I, umm …”
“William, go wait out in the bedroom. Turn on the TV or something,” said Amanda.
“Yes, right. Okay,” said William, closing the bathroom door behind him.
Amanda looked at Doyle’s disappointed face. “We’ll continue this later.”
Doyle sighed. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Can I kill William?” asked Doyle.
“Maybe,” said Amanda. “Let’s think on that one.”
“THAT WAS TRAUMATIZING,” SAID WILLIAM, sitting on the edge of the queen-size bed in the small, bare motel room. “I’m truly sorry. I had no idea you were in the middle of, em …”
“Amanda, you mean?” asked Doyle.
“No, well yes, I meant … in the middle of doing that.”
Amanda walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body. “Are you calling me a that?” she asked.
“No, no, I didn’t mean that,” said William.
“Don’t worry, William. I’m just trying to make you feel terrible about interrupting us,” she said.
“Mission accomplished,” William said.
“I can’t believe you shot the door lock,” said Doyle, admiring
William’s handiwork. “That’s some serious Dirty Harry action.”
“I was in a hurry,” said William. “I was worried about you.”
“Why were you so worried?” asked Amanda, carrying a pile of fresh clothing into the bathroom.
“A killer is on the loose, and I’m afraid he or she may not be done quite yet. And, honestly, I wasn’t sure how prepared either of you were.”
“No need to worry, William,” Amanda yelled from behind the bathroom door. “I’m capable of protecting Doyle and myself.”
“Hey, I’m capable of—“ Doyle began to say until William cut him off.
“You say that now, Amanda,” said William. “But, meanwhile, your gun is resting on your bureau. Had I been the killer, you would have been naked and helpless.”
Doyle sighed and thought dreamily of Amanda.
“Doyle, where’s your gun?” asked William.
“Well, you see, I umm … “ Doyle began to say, attempting to best to conjure up an excuse within very little time. “I, uhh … I forgot it at home.
Sorry.”
William simply shook his head.
Amanda came out of the bathroom and shrugged, unsurprised.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “Unlike William, I think this is a one-off kill. If the rumors are correct, Davis Wilde was not the most pleasant person. I think he rubbed someone the wrong way and maybe got what was coming to him. Whoever did it, I doubt we’ll be in any imminent danger from them. Even if we were, that won’t stop us from catching the person.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Doyle. “I have an automatic starter for my car right here in my pocket. The slightest hint of danger, and I disappear within a matter of seconds.”
“My hero,” said Amanda.
“But seriously, William—why were you so concerned? Do you suspect someone in particular? Do you think they’re going to come after us?” asked Doyle.
“The hell of it is,” said William, “I’ve been so preoccupied with Eva being here that I have hardly looked into the case. I only know the few things that Eva told me. I’m not usually this negligent, which frankly made me fear the worst about what could be happening to the two of you, my closest friends, while my back was turned.”
Doyle looked to Amanda, wondering if she was also shocked at being one of William’s closest friends.
“So, if you had to place a bet on who the killer was, who would you put your money on?” asked Doyle.
“My gut tells me it’s the director, Maura Coen. Eva tells me she’s a horrible person, and that most people feel the same way. Tina, the makeup artist or Winthrop, the producer, are both intriguing suspects. I understand that they’ve been intimate, which means this could be a classic example of a love-triangle gone wrong.”
“Tina and Mr. Winthrop haven’t been intimate,” said Amanda. “She told us right off the bat that Winthrop pays her extra money on the side to apply make-up on him in the evenings.”
“Hmm, fascinating,” said William. “Of course, just because she said that doesn’t make it the truth.”
“Yes, William—people can lie. Do you suspect anyone else?” asked Amanda.
“Not at this point. Not without further investigation,” said William. “You know, some of the cast and crew suspect someone else,” said Amanda.
Doyle looked at Amanda, knowing where she was going with the conversation. He shook his head, trying to cut her off.
“Who? You don’t mean … “ William said, his face frozen for a couple moments before a hearty laughter overtook him.
Doyle sighed with relief. He had feared an angry explosion from William if his Eva were implicated, and was pleasantly surprised when it didn’t happen.
“Listen, I’ve known Eva for years. She can be rough around the edges, yes, but she’s not a killer. I can assure you of that.”
“Maybe,” said Amanda. “But she’s still a suspect, just like everyone else who was on set early this morning.”
William nodded. “You’re absolutely right. I certainly won’t disregard anyone. But Eva …“ William said, holding back another snicker. “Oh, you two make me laugh.”
Doyle and Amanda looked at each other uneasily.
“Listen,” said William, suddenly standing. “Why don’t you two get dressed, ready, what have you, and let’s get going.”
“Get going?” said Amanda. “It’s after 10:00. It’s night. We can continue tomorrow.”
“No, no—we can’t wait. The longer we wait, the more of an opportunity the killer has. We need to start with the basics. Have either of you seen the body yet?”
Doyle and Amanda shook their heads.
“Okay, then. First stop, the morgue. After that, let’s go back to the scene of the crime. See if we can find any clues. Anything the cops missed.
Based on what I’ve seen so far, they may have missed quite a bit.”
“Then what?” said Doyle.
“Then, after two to three hours of sleep, we talk with the lead investigators, let them know how much they’ve tainted the process already. And then take over,” said William.
“That’s somewhat presumptuous, isn’t it?” asked Doyle.
“That’s a big word for you,” said Amanda.
Doyle shrugged. “It was on my ‘word-a-day’ calendar yesterday. But you see what I’m getting at, right? These local cops—sure they seem a bit … em … ‘rural,’ but that doesn’t mean they’re not talented detectives. Who knows, they might already have this thing all figured out. Besides, they’re certainly not going to let a few PIs take over a major investigation, especially one that will attract a lot of news attention.”
“We’ll see,” said William. “Now get ready. We have work to do! I’ll wait in my car.”
He was about to walk out the door when he pointed to the disfigured door handle, turned his head, and said, “Doyle—you might want to explain this to management, or else they’re not going to be very happy with you.”
“Thanks for the advice,” said Doyle.