Death of a Bacon Heiress (16 page)

“I have it right here on my computer screen, Hayley,” Candy Pryor said on the other end of the phone. “The photo was taken on the seventeenth. Same day as when poor Mrs. Redmond was murdered.”

Candy worked for her family's whale-watching expedition company, which departed three times a week from the town pier.

“We put out a giant cardboard cutout of a whale on the dock about an hour before we set sail, and everybody who buys a ticket stops and has their picture taken with it, and then we print them out and sell them in the gift shop to anyone who wants them after the boat gets back. It was my dad's idea after seeing it done at Disney World when he took the grandkids last winter.”

“And you're sure it's Thorsten and his secretary?”

“Hold on. I'll e-mail it to you.”

After a few seconds there was a ding alerting Hayley to an incoming e-mail. She opened the file attached, and sure enough, there was Thorsten in cargo shorts and a polo shirt with a light sweater tied around his neck, and his secretary, a young woman no more than thirty with a fresh-faced smile, her auburn hair blowing in the breeze, who wore a tight-fitting pair of jeans, a pink blouse, and a bomber jacket. They were holding hands and smiling.

They looked like a couple on a romantic outing.

Except for the fact that Hayley now knew Thorsten was also seeing Red's girlfriend, Peggy, on the side.

In addition to being an ethically challenged businessman, Thorsten Brandt was also a blatant womanizer.

“Looks like his alibi checks out,” Hayley said.

“I remember him buying the tickets. He was very charming with that German accent, and he spent the whole time flirting with me while I ran his credit card through the machine. He's a very handsome man, don't you agree?” Candy said, giggling.

“Not my type. Thanks, Candy,” Hayley said.

“Anytime, love. And be sure to come join us one of these days on an expedition if you don't get seasick. We'd love to have you.”

“Yes, I'd love that,” Hayley said, hanging up.

She had no real intention of taking Candy up on her kind offer. She had been wrestling with a fear of water ever since a cold-blooded killer had discovered she had connected him to his uncle's murder and taken her out to sea on a boat to dump her over the side so she couldn't tell anyone. Luckily the coast guard had shown up in the nick of time. Mona had begged her to try and get over her irrational fear by joining her on her fishing boat to haul lobster traps outside the harbor, but Hayley was still resistant. Liddy had tried talking her into planning a luxury cruise through the Caribbean on a boat so big she wouldn't even feel it moving. But so far Hayley was content to simply avoid sea travel altogether.

One of these days she would try to work through it.

Just not now.

Bruce bounded out to the front office from the bull pen. “Did Brandt's alibi check out?”

Hayley nodded. “Yes. He's officially off the suspect list.”

“So are Red and Peggy. I was able to confirm they weren't even in town on the day of the murder. They traveled together by the company's private plane from California the day
after
Olivia's body was found. Red probably wouldn't even have bothered to come to Bar Harbor because of his fractured relationship with his mother, but he saw a big payday with his mother's will.”

“I'm sure Peggy did too,” Hayley added. “As well as the opportunity to spend some time with her secret lover, Thorsten. I checked the social registers for several Redmond Meats parties in New York and both Peggy and Thorsten's names were on the guest list for one at the Met and one at Lincoln Center. I'm sure that's where they met. Even though Red despised his mother and most likely didn't want to attend, I'm sure Peggy pressured him into going since she loves high society and is so desperate to be a part of it.”

“Good work. See? Working together is fun,” Bruce said, grinning.

“We are
not
working together. We just work in the same office and just happen to be investigating the same case and are simply choosing to share information.”

“However you want to see it,” Bruce said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Of course, if you
were
my partner and not my competitor, I would tell you what I was able to find out about Rhonda Franklin.”

Checkmate.

He had her.

Hayley stood up from her desk. “What did you find out,
partner
?”

Bruce chuckled. “You're so easy. I knew you'd see the light.”

“Tell me, Bruce.”

She was wild with curiosity. She'd do anything to find out.

Within reason, of course.

“I did a little online digging this morning by Googling Rhonda Franklin and I found this brief story on a Web site called Deadline Hollywood about Rhonda being offered a role in a major motion picture about six months ago. Her agent was in negotiations with the studio, and she was requesting a leave from
The Chat
so she could go shoot the movie in Texas. But then, just two days later, there was a follow-up piece announcing that Rhonda had pulled out of the picture and was going to be replaced by another actress.”

“So? Actors leave projects all the time because of scheduling conflicts, or personal reasons, or just about anything.”

“Yeah. I get that. But I went through Rhonda's tweets during that time, and she was clearly excited about doing the movie and couldn't stop talking about what a juicy role it was, and how grateful she was to be given such a fantastic opportunity to do a film of substance. I mean, she didn't hold back. This was
huge
for her.”

“Then why would she drop out?”

“Exactly. I called her agent and manager and they never got back to me. I tried getting hold of anyone who worked on
The Chat
who might have an inkling about what happened and got nothing. But then I did a search on
When the Cows Come Home
and that's when I hit pay dirt.”

“
When the Cows Come Home
?”

“Yeah, that's the movie's working title. The story is all about the evils of the meatpacking industry. It's a downright exposé. Remember when Oprah Winfrey lambasted the beef industry on her show and they sued her? Imagine how they would feel if a national spokesman for one of the leading meat companies in the world was to play a major part in a movie that basically indicted their business practices?”

“That would not be kosher, so to speak,” Hayley said.

“I called the producers and once again they refused to talk to me. But then I e-mailed the director, who is this wunderkind talent, very young and brash and not afraid of controversy, and he called me right away after I sent him my phone number. He told me he wanted to cast Rhonda
because
of her connection to Redmond Meats. He wanted to stir things up. Make a statement. The studio backed him one hundred percent, and Rhonda was thrilled to be given such a meaty part—pardon the pun.”

“I can't pardon that, Bruce. I just can't.”

Bruce smiled. “He told me Redmond Meats threatened to sue Rhonda for breach of contract if she did the film. Lawyers were brought in. It became a real standoff. But then Rhonda blinked first. She pulled out. The part was rewritten and they cast Naomi Watts and they wrapped shooting about a month ago. And now there is all this Oscar buzz for Watts. The director told me Rhonda was just devastated. She's never gotten over it, and now that there's all this adoring press for Watts even before the film's release, it's got to be killing her all over again. The director heard through mutual friends that Rhonda blames Olivia personally for sabotaging her chance for a real acting comeback, especially now with all the Oscar talk. She's still mad as hell, probably even more so now.”

“Mad enough to kill Olivia?”

A loud crash startled Rhonda Franklin, and she jumped and spilled white wine all down the front of her blouse. “What the hell was that?”

Hayley bolted from the couch and ran into the kitchen where she found Pork Chop sitting innocently next to the coatrack, which he had somehow knocked to the floor. Blueberry was backed into a corner, hissing and baring his teeth, while Leroy ran behind Hayley's leg, shaking, scared he might be blamed for Pork Chop's antics.

“How did you get out of the basement?” Hayley asked, spinning around to see the door leading down into the cellar wide open, the flimsy latch that hooked into the lock lying on the rug. “Did you bust the lock? Bad pig! Bad pig!”

“Is that my baby?” Rhonda cooed as she hustled into the kitchen and squatted down to pet the snorting animal. “I just love this pig. He's the most darling thing I've ever seen. I didn't know you were still looking after him.”

“It seems Red doesn't want anything to do with him,” Hayley said, taking Rhonda's wineglass and refilling it with some more Chardonnay. “I'm sorry Mona didn't make it tonight. One of her kids has the sniffles and it's her husband's poker night, so she's stuck at home.”

“Well, I'd be lying if I told you Mona wasn't a big reason I accepted your kind invitation for cocktails this evening. She's so warm and kind and thoughtful.”

“Are you sure we're talking about the same Mona? Mona Barnes?”

“Yes. I've never met anyone quite like her, and let me tell you, I've been around.”

“Well, Mona likes you too. Sorry. I know I'm a poor substitute.”

“Don't be silly. I'm having fun. And now that my little rascally, adorable pig is here, the night just got even better!”

Unable to squat anymore, the rotund Rhonda Franklin scooped the pig up in her arms and let him nestle against her bosom as she tried climbing back up to her feet, using her hip against the dishwasher to give herself an extra heave-ho.

Pork Chop closed his eyes, his expression euphoric as Rhonda lowered her face and nuzzled his snout with her nose.

“How could Red not want to cuddle with you all night? Because he's a stupid dolt, that's why, and he doesn't deserve you. No, he doesn't. You are a VIP! A very important pig!”

Boy, Rhonda sure did love this pig.

It was honestly a tad disconcerting.

Blueberry, tail high in the air, marched out of the room in a snit, obviously jealous he was garnering zero attention from Hayley's guest. Leroy remained hidden behind Hayley's leg until she moved to make herself another cocktail, and then he followed closely behind on her heel.

Rhonda downed her wine and casually held out her glass, indicating she was ready for yet another. Pork Chop settled into the crook of her arm and snorted contentedly as Rhonda scratched his belly while Hayley emptied the rest of the Chardonnay into her glass and tossed the empty bottle into her recycle bin.

“He really mellows out when he's around you, Rhonda. You should see him when you're not here. He's like a tornado!”

“We just have a special bond. Ever since Olivia first got him. She saw how I instantly fell in love with him at a barbecue on Olivia's estate in the Hamptons last summer, and she offered to find me a potbellied pig just like him, but I didn't want just any pig. This pig is the one who stole my heart,” she said, kissing him on top of his head between his ears and then gratefully accepting more wine from Hayley.

After another sip, Rhonda cleared her throat. “So why did you really invite me here tonight, Hayley?”

“What do you mean?”

“I got the feeling when I arrived there was something you wanted to talk to me about. You kept waiting for the right moment to bring it up, but so far there hasn't been one. I don't like playing games, so why don't you just get to it?”

“Rhonda, I really thought Mona was going to come here tonight, and I know how fond of her you are, so this wasn't some ruse. . . .”

“Hayley, I was raised on Long Island and I know when someone's feeding me a line of bull, so if you have something to say, just say it.”

“I heard you and Olivia were not on the best of terms when she was murdered and I want to know—?”

“You want to know about the movie I was offered,” Rhonda said.

“Yes. I know it caused a rift between the two of you.”

“And so you want to know if I killed her?”

“If we're getting right to the point, then yes.”

Rhonda set Pork Chop down on the floor, but he didn't take off to wreak more havoc. He stayed right by her side. Leroy glared at him from behind Hayley's leg but kept his faint growling in check.

“I admit I fantasized about killing her. When she forced me to drop out of that movie that would have changed my career, my whole life even, yes, I was bitter and angry. And there were days when my mind went to very dark places, and I wished she wasn't around to stop me from playing a once in a lifetime role. But they were just thoughts, Hayley. I would never seriously act upon them.”

Hayley nodded, trying to read Rhonda's face, unable to tell if she was lying.

“I'm sure you read some of the filth in the supermarket tabloids. Saying how I'm twice Olivia's size, how I could have easily overpowered her and snapped her neck with my chubby hands. Those rags have always hated me, ever since I came out as a lesbian. They've been desperate to dig up dirt on me and sometimes they're right. I drink too much, I'm loud and obnoxious and can be a real ballbuster on the set of
The Chat
. But that's the extent of my obvious faults. I'm not a murderer. And the reason those stories faded is because the mainstream press actually bothered to check out my alibi. I wasn't even here when Olivia was murdered. I was in Delaware on the doorstep of a seventy-five-year-old fan, a grandmother, who won our Queen for the Day sweepstakes. I was personally delivering her a check for twenty grand and two free tickets for a seniors cruise to Alaska. I had a camera crew with me willing to testify I was there. I was out having fajitas at an Applebee's near Wilmington when I got word that Olivia was dead. . . .”

Her voice trailed off. Her eyes filled with tears.

“I miss her, Hayley. I really do. Despite what went down between us, she was my best friend.”

Rhonda Franklin was an actress.

Capable of putting on a powerhouse performance.

But Hayley's gut told her this wasn't a Rhonda Franklin acting exercise.

She was hurting.

Deeply.

And Hayley at that moment knew Rhonda had nothing to do with what had happened to Olivia Redmond.

The killer was still out there.