Dusted to Death (9 page)

Smiling with the lingering memories of her morning, she poured herself a cup of coffee and headed for her desk in the living room. As she settled at the desk, though, her smile quickly faded. She’d rather eat worms than have to fool with the monthly bookkeeping chores for Maid-for-a-Day. Too bad, though. It was a dirty job, but somebody had to do it.

It was times like these that she wished she could simply hire her sister to keep the books for her. Several years back Madeline had started her own small accounting firm, and now she had more clients than she could handle. Even so, Charlotte had been reluctant to let her sister handle the books for Maid-for-a-Day, the main reason being that she didn’t really want Madeline, or anyone else for that matter, knowing all about her business. Besides, Madeline charged her clients a lot more than Charlotte was willing to pay, which left little choice but for her to do it herself.

Charlotte reached down and removed her business ledger from the bottom drawer. From another drawer, she removed a large manila envelope full of receipts. Just as she flipped the ledger open, there was a loud knock on the front door.

Uneasiness spiced with irritation swept through her. Since she wasn’t expecting company, thoughts of the reporter who had been parked in front of her house earlier that morning immediately came to mind.

Charlotte stood and tiptoed over to the front window. If the man had returned, she’d simply pretend that no one was at home.

And what about your van parked in the driveway?

Oh, yeah, the van. “Too bad,” she whispered. In that case she would simply ignore the man.

The first thing she spotted was the long white limousine parked in her driveway. “What on earth?” she murmured as her gaze shifted from the limo to the man standing on her porch.

“Well, for Pete’s sake,” she exclaimed. Reaching for the deadbolt, she quickly unlocked the door and threw it wide open. “Hey, there, hon.” She gave a sweeping motion with her hand. “Come on in.”

Though Benny Jackson nodded and gave her a wan smile, the smile didn’t quite reach his bloodshot eyes. Dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt instead of his chauffeur uniform, he looked much younger and more like the young man who used to hang around her house so many years ago.

“Sorry to barge in on you without calling first,” he said as he stepped inside.

“No problem. Can I offer you something to drink? I just made a pot of fresh coffee. Iced tea?”

“Iced tea would be great, if it’s not too much trouble? I’m up to my eyeballs in coffee.”

“No trouble at all,” she replied. “It won’t take but a minute.”

Benny followed her back to the kitchen and seated himself at the kitchen table. Once she’d served him the tea, she sat down opposite him with her cup of coffee. “So, what brings you over to my neck of the woods this afternoon?”

Benny lowered his gaze to the sweating glass in front of him. “Angel’s been arrested for murdering Nick Franklin.”

Charlotte nodded. “That’s what I heard.”

At that, Benny glanced up. “It’s on the news already?”

Charlotte shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Not yet. One of my clients knew that I was working on the set, and she called me early this morning.” Charlotte shrugged at Benny’s puzzled look. “Don’t ask. All I know is that she’s well connected in the city—she knows just about everyone.” Boy, was that an understatement! “And she has very reliable sources.”

“So, what did this client of yours tell you?”

While Benny listened thoughtfully, Charlotte summed up her conversation with Bitsy. When she’d finished, Benny nodded. “Yeah, that’s about right. But one thing your friend either didn’t mention or didn’t know was that in addition to Angel’s fingerprints being the only ones on the letter opener, Nick’s blood was also found on a pair of her jeans. Even worse, Angel doesn’t have an alibi for the time frame in which Nick was murdered. She was tired that evening and had me drop her off at the hotel. On top of that, now she’s been denied bail. The prosecutor claims that because she’s a celebrity, she’s a slight risk. Not only that, but it looks like her manager, Simon Clark, as well as the studio, has abandoned her.”

Charlotte frowned. “I find that hard to believe, especially considering what a big star she is.”

“Yeah, well, Simon Clark is the type who only looks out for number one. As for the studio, if you can believe it, there’s actually a morals clause in her contract that makes it easy for them to ditch her. Never mind that she’s innocent.”

When Charlotte raised a speculative eyebrow, he gave a slight shake of his head. “She’s innocent,” he repeated. “I’ve known Angel for a long time now, and I swear to you, there’s no way she could kill anyone. She can be a real pain, and yeah, she’s a bit of a prima donna, but it’s all mostly an act. No matter what they say, she’s no killer.”

For several seconds Benny stared at Charlotte as if willing her to believe him; then with a sigh, he picked up the glass of tea and drank almost half of it before he finally set it back down. “You still make the best iced tea I’ve ever tasted.”

“Thanks, but you didn’t come by to just drink my tea.”

Benny sighed again. “No, ma’am. You’re right. I came by to ask for your help.”

“My help?” she sputtered.

He nodded decisively. “I trust you and don’t know where else to turn. Angel’s hired some high-priced attorney from Hollywood, but I don’t trust him.”

Charlotte frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“I overheard one of the detectives talking about how you’ve solved several murder cases, and I’m hoping that you can either help me prove Angel’s innocence or at least point me to a good private investigator we can trust.”

For several long moments Charlotte was speechless. Since Gavin Brown was the only detective at the murder scene that she knew, that’s who Benny had to be talking about. Go figure. Out of everyone she’d met at the NOPD, Detective Gavin Brown was the last person that she’d ever expect to hand her a compliment, especially considering that he always acted like such a jerk around her.

Taking a deep breath, she said, “Benny, I’m sure that Angel’s attorney probably has his own investigator.”

“Yeah, well, like I said, I don’t trust him, but I trust you. So, do you think you can help me?”

Could she? Did she even want to? “I—I don’t know what to say,” she responded honestly.

While it was true that she had solved several murder cases in the past, she hadn’t realized that the police thought of her as anything but a pest or an aggravation at best.

When Benny’s face fell with disappointment, Charlotte hurriedly added, “I do admit that when I heard that Angel had been arrested, my gut reaction was the same as yours. I just don’t see her as a killer—more like a spoiled brat. Sorry. I know she’s your friend, but that’s how she comes across.” When Benny just shrugged she continued. “Do you think it’s possible that she’s been set up? I mean, like, could the studio have wanted an excuse to break the contract and—no!” She shook her head. “Forget that. They could always write off the movie as a loss on their income taxes, or I suppose they could hire another actress since they had just started shooting.” She shook her head again. She was rambling. “Wrong track. But how about this? Is there anyone else you can think of who would resort to murder to get her out of the movie? Maybe another starlet? Or perhaps someone out to make some headlines, like that sleazy reporter Bruce King?”

“Yeah, sure, I guess anything’s possible. There are lots of people out there who are jealous of Angel’s success. But there are also plenty of people who would like to see Nick out of her life permanently too.”

Well aware that she was fast approaching the point of no return, Charlotte mentally chewed on Benny’s answer for a moment while she took a sip of her coffee. If Angel was innocent, then it was obvious that someone meant for her to take the fall for Nick’s murder. Just thinking about an innocent person, any innocent person, being set up for a murder and the real killer getting off scot-free was enough to make her blood boil. Of course just thinking about any human being murdering another human being made her angry too.

At best she figured she had two choices: she could either just say no to Benny, or she could help Benny and Angel as best she could.

Mind your own business. Just say no.

Yes, you can say no, but remember, everything happens for a reason.

Charlotte lowered her gaze to stare at the wisp of steam rising from her coffee cup, but the silent warring voices in her head couldn’t be ignored. There had been other times that she’d been faced with the same dilemma. One time in particular stood out from the rest. After much agonizing about getting involved and after continuously asking herself, “why me?” she had finally concluded, “why not me?”

Raising her gaze, she looked straight into Benny’s hopeful eyes and said, “Look, I’m not promising anything, but I’ll do what I can.”

The grateful look of relief on his face gave her pause. “Just so you know,” she warned, “I’m not a professional by any stretch of the imagination. But I do have my resources, and, like I said, I’ll do what I can.”

Benny grinned from ear to ear. “Thanks, Ms. LaRue. Thanks a lot. And just so
you
know, I’m not expecting miracles, but I do want to know the truth.”

Charlotte hesitated, but then said, “Even if it turns out that Angel is guilty?”

“She’s not,” he quickly retorted. “But other than my gut feelings, I have no proof. I just know she’s not guilty.”

“Well, in that case, pour yourself another glass of tea while I get a pen and pad to jot down some notes.”

At her desk, Charlotte eyed the financial ledger. Too bad, she thought. It would just have to wait. Grabbing up a tablet and a pen, she returned to the kitchen.

Back in the kitchen, she poured herself a fresh cup of coffee. Once they were both seated at the table again, she tapped her pen against the pad of paper and said, “Okay, now I need you to tell me anything that you think could be relevant, no matter how small. Why don’t we start with Angel and Nick’s relationship? How long have they been together and just what is their relationship?”

Benny leaned forward, wrapped both hands around his glass, and rested his forearms on the table. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure what their relationship is, but I’m pretty sure it’s not romantic. It’s almost like he’s holding something over her head. In fact, I’ve often wondered if Nick could be blackmailing Angel.”

A soft gasp escaped Charlotte. “Blackmailing?”

“I should explain,” Benny said. “You see, right after Angel made it big, Nick suddenly showed up on her doorstep out of nowhere one day. Even though she introduced him as an old friend from her hometown, she didn’t seem exactly overjoyed to see him. In fact, she seemed almost—” He shrugged. “Almost scared or nervous or something.” He shrugged again. “But what’s even more weird is that even though she didn’t much like him just showing up, she let him move in and stay.”

“But what could he have on her to blackmail her?”

“I always figured it had something to do with when they were kids. Once, I even asked Angel about it, but she just shook her head and said for me to leave it alone.”

“Do the police know this?”

“Not unless Angel said something to them, and since that would be even more motive for her to have murdered him, I don’t think she would say anything. She’s not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she’s not stupid either.”

“Okay, good. So, tell me what you know about Nick. Like, who, besides Angel, might want him gone for good?”

“That’s easy. I guess I’d put Simon Clark at the top of the list. Like I said earlier, Simon looks out for
Numero Uno
. I kinda got the feeling that he viewed Nick as a threat to his business relationship with Angel. They were always at odds over Angel’s career.”

Charlotte nodded, remembering the confrontation that she’d witnessed in Bitsy’s kitchen between the two men.

“Yeah, good old Simon wanted Angel to continue in the PG-rated movies she’d been making, but Nick kept bringing her scripts for other, racier movies.”

Suddenly, Charlotte frowned. “But why would Simon go to the trouble of killing Nick, and setting Angel up for the fall, then dropping her when she got in trouble? Wouldn’t that be like killing the goose that laid the golden egg? Why wouldn’t he simply ditch her to begin with?”

Benny shrugged. “Who knows? Probably because he’s such a sleazebag.”

Deciding that Simon as a suspect just didn’t make sense for now, Charlotte said, “Okay, so who else would want Nick dead?”

“I don’t know that it means anything, but for a while there was this man who was stalking her. There are all kinds of crazed fans in this business. Anyway, right before we came to New Orleans this man and Nick had a really nasty altercation one evening at a restaurant. Nick had him thrown out of the restaurant, and convinced Angel to get a restraining order against him. I thought it was over, but now I suspect the guy followed us here. There have been a couple of times that I thought I saw him hanging around out on the street.”

Charlotte nodded as she jotted down what Benny had said. She didn’t mention it out loud, but again, why kill Nick, then frame Angel for the murder? “Anyone else?”

Benny suddenly took a deep breath and let out a sigh. “There’s me.”

“Y
ou?” Charlotte stared at Benny.

Benny lowered his gaze and stared at the glass in front of him. “Yeah, me. Heather and I were seeing each other for a while. Then Nick stepped in. I really cared about her—still do. I tried to warn her that Nick was no good, that he just used people, but it took him smacking her around to make her finally realize that he was bad news.”

Charlotte tensed. “So Nick was not only two-timing Angel, but he was the one who gave Heather that black eye. What a jerk!”

“Yeah, he was.” Benny raised his gaze to stare at Charlotte, and there was a lethal calmness in his eyes. At that moment, she could believe that he
was
capable of murder.

“When I saw that shiner he gave her,” he continued, “I wanted to kill him. If I could have gotten my hands on him at the time, I would have. But I didn’t. Someone else beat me to it.”

Though Charlotte believed Benny was capable of killing Nick, she also believed that he didn’t do it. But even if he had killed Nick, he’d have no reason whatsoever to frame Angel for the murder. Still, his admission brought up another point to ponder. “I hate to point this out, but what you just told me also gives Heather motive as well.”

Benny stiffened and his eyes lit up with fire. “Heather didn’t do it,” he snapped. “Don’t even go there. Besides, she broke up with Nick the day before he was killed.”

Charlotte sighed, then reached out and gently patted Benny’s balled fist. “Just calm down,” she soothed. “No one, least of all me, is accusing Heather of anything.”

After a tense moment, Benny finally relented. “Sorry,” he whispered. “It’s just that—” His voice trailed away and he gave a one-shouldered shrug.

“It’s just that you’re in love with her.”

“Heather is a nice woman who wouldn’t hurt a flea.”

For whatever reason, it was clear that he didn’t intend to answer her question, so she figured it was time to change the subject. “So—back to suspects. Anyone else?”

“Just a couple more that I can think of right now. I know that Nick had some gambling debts, but that was back in California, and then there’s Bruce King. Nick and King had a run-in day before yesterday.”

Charlotte nodded as she jotted down the information. When she’d finished she stared out of the window for a thoughtful moment, then turned back to Benny. “What about Angel’s bodyguard, Toby Russell? Angel and Nick were having a knock-down, drag-out fight Tuesday morning until Toby stepped in and forcibly escorted Nick off the premises.”

Benny shook his head. “Naw, Toby was just doing his job. Or following Angel’s orders,” he added. “Believe it or not, he’s a pretty okay guy.”

Charlotte suddenly laughed, but then sobered quickly. “I know it’s no laughing matter, but it seems to me that just about everybody that Nick came in contact with had a motive to kill him.”

Benny chuckled. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?”

“Only problem,” she pointed out quickly, “what would any of these people on this list gain by framing Angel?”

For an answer, Benny simply shook his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve thought about it and thought about it, but come up with a big fat blank.”

Charlotte drummed her fingers against the tabletop as she mentally sorted through the suspects. “As I see it, the only person who could possibly want Nick dead
and
want to frame Angel would be that reporter, Bruce King. He’d be getting a double whammy of a story.” She shook her head. “But even that theory has flaws.”

With a puzzled frown, Charlotte glanced down at the notes she’d made. The word
blackmail
kept jumping out at her, and after a moment, she underlined it. “I know you’ve already said that you didn’t know,” she said, still staring at the notes she’d made, “but your blackmail theory bothers me. We need to find out if Nick
was
blackmailing Angel and why. I can’t help but think that something like that could be the root cause for Nick’s murder.”

Charlotte lifted her head to stare at Benny. “What if I simply asked Angel?” As soon as the words left her mouth, another thought suddenly struck her. She narrowed her eyes. “Angel does know that you intended to come to me for help, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, ma’am, she knows.”

She nodded. “Good, because I could get into a lot of trouble for sticking my nose into her business without her blessings, so to speak.”

Benny smiled. “No problem. I assure you, I discussed talking to you with her. As for outright asking her about the blackmail business, you can try, but I doubt she’ll tell you any more than she told me.”

“Probably not, but there’s only one way to find out, which presents a problem. They won’t let just anybody visit prisoners, especially a prisoner who’s being held for murder.”

“Yeah, that’s a problem.” He paused; then, after a moment he said, “What if you went in with her lawyer? He could say that you were his assistant or something.”

Charlotte nodded. “But would he do it?”

“If Angel told him to do it, he would. Let me see what I can do, and I’ll get back to you.”

“Ah, Benny, there’s just one more thing that’s bothering me.”

“Just one?”

When he chuckled, Charlotte smiled. “Yeah, well, several, if you want to get technical. But the one I’m talking about is the letter opener. I can understand how easy it would be for blood to be on a pair of Angel’s jeans. The jeans could have been left in her dressing room. But if our theory is right, and Angel was set up, how did the killer stab Nick without smearing Angel’s fingerprints on the letter opener? Surely, even if he used gloves, some of the fingerprints would have been smeared. Then again, if Angel did stab him, her fingerprints could be smeared anyway.”

Benny thought a minute, then shrugged. “You got me on that one. Maybe some of them were smeared, but you’ll have to ask your detective friend about that. I wouldn’t hold my breath, though, if I were you. The police think they already have the killer in custody, so they’re not going to be inclined to poke holes in their case.”

Especially not on the word of a mere maid, Charlotte thought. Besides, just the thought of having to ask Detective Gavin Brown anything gave her the heebie-jeebies.

He did warn you about the news media, and he paid you a compliment about solving a couple of past murders
.

Yeah, but like Benny had said, he probably wouldn’t appreciate someone poking holes in his investigation. But there was one person she could ask. If anyone could find out, Judith could. But would her niece do it? was the big question.

After Benny made sure she had his cell phone number and he left, Charlotte put in a call to Judith.

After several rings, Judith answered, “Monroe.”

“Hey, hon, this is Aunt Charlotte.”

“Hey, yourself, Auntie. What’s happening?”

“I know you’re probably working, so I’ll keep this as brief as possible. I need a favor.”

There was an ever so slight hesitation; then Judith said, “What kind of favor?”

This time Charlotte hesitated. In the past Judith hadn’t approved or condoned Charlotte’s interference in a murder investigation; in fact, just the opposite. So, how to approach her this time was the big question.

Just say it and be done with it. All she can say is no
.

Charlotte cleared her throat. “Now, before you say no, please hear me out. I need some information concerning the fingerprints on the murder weapon that killed Nick Franklin.”

Judith groaned. “Now, why in hell would you—”

“Judith Monroe! You know I don’t like that kind of language.”

“Sorry.” Judith sighed. “But why would
you
need to know something like that?”

“It’s a long story—”

“That I don’t have time to listen to,” Judith interrupted. “Besides, it’s not my case.”

“But you could find out.”

“No, Auntie, I couldn’t, not without raising a few eyebrows around here. Besides, my own caseload is heavy enough without snooping into other cases.”

Getting more frustrated with each passing moment, Charlotte blurted out, “I need to know if the fingerprints were smeared. Angel is a small woman and plunging a letter opener into Nick would not only take a lot of strength, but I’m sure her grip would slip, therefore smearing some of her prints. If her prints aren’t smeared, then that would help prove that she was set up, wouldn’t it?”

Judith didn’t bother to answer. “Can’t do it,” she shot back. “Look, I don’t know why you’ve gotten yourself involved in this, and I don’t care, but I’m telling you here and now to butt out. Leave it alone. Let the police handle it.”

Disappointment washed through Charlotte. “Should have known,” she grumbled.

“I’m not kidding, Auntie. You know that I love you, and I don’t mean to be rude, but for Pete’s sake,
please
mind your own business. I have to go back to work now, but we’ll talk some more about this later.”

Without warning or even so much as a good-bye, Judith disconnected the call.

For several moments, Charlotte simply sat there and stared into space. Then, finally, she replaced the phone receiver.

“…I’m telling you here and now to butt out. Leave it alone. Let the police handle it.”

“Easier said than done,” Charlotte muttered to the empty room.

Early on Saturday morning, Charlotte accompanied Angel’s lawyer, Barry James, inside the building where Angel was being held. According to what Benny had told her, James was supposed to be some hotshot criminal attorney out of Hollywood. He certainly looked the part. Though she figured he was probably in his early forties, his evenly tanned face was free of wrinkles, and his dark hair was perfectly styled—not one hair out of place. He was fit, probably worked out in some high-class gym every day, and the suit he wore looked expensive and custom made. No department store sales racks for Mr.
GQ
.

Come to think of it, now that she’d met the lawyer in person, she was pretty sure that she’d seen him before on TV; if she remembered right, he’d represented a whole bunch of big-name stars. Not that she made a habit of keeping up with such things, but there was no way a person could totally ignore stuff like that, especially with the media spreading every tidbit of news from here to kingdom come, over and over, ad nauseam.

So why didn’t Benny trust Barry James? She never had come right out and asked him. Later, she’d have to ask him, she decided, but for now, first things first.

Charlotte glanced around and shuddered. Just walking down the hallway of the jail made her claustrophobic. Right then and there, she decided that being incarcerated in jail was something she hoped she never had to experience.

Inside the bare, tiny room where they waited for Angel, the only furniture were a table and three chairs—two chairs on one side of the small table that was bolted to the floor and the other chair on the opposite side. Charlotte seated herself and stared at the door leading into the room.

Barry James chose to pace the length of the room. “This is highly irregular, you know,” he told her. “And a waste of time.”

It was the same thing he’d said when they’d met just outside the entry to the jail. And he’d said nothing else since. Besides, why on earth would he care about wasting time? He was probably making more money per hour than she made in an entire week or even a month. Tempted to say so, she bit her bottom lip instead.

Just remember that you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.

Yeah, yeah, whatever.

But she had to say something, if for no other reason than to shut him up. Taking a deep breath and trying not to choke on the words, she said, “Irregular or not, I really appreciate you doing this.” No sooner had she uttered the words than the door opened and Angel, shackled in handcuffs and chains and accompanied by a guard, entered the room.

Charlotte noted that Angel’s face was bare of makeup. Tresses of her signature long blond hair hung as limply around her pale face as the ill-fitting orange jumpsuit that she wore. Orange was definitely not a good color for the starlet, Charlotte decided. It made her skin look kind of sallow. Of course the poor lighting in the room could be to blame as well, but all of it combined made Angel look more like a sick, homeless orphan than like a woman who was admired by millions of movie fans.

As Angel shuffled across the room and was directed to sit in the one chair opposite Charlotte, what really got to Charlotte the most were her eyes. Her beautiful emerald-green eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles. From lack of sleep? Or from crying? Probably from a bit of both, she decided, as something deep within tugged at her heartstrings. In spite of her misgivings about Angel and about getting involved, unbidden sympathy for the young woman washed through her.

Yes, Angel came across as a spoiled brat, a diva, but Charlotte reminded herself that, according to Benny, Angel had also worked hard to get to the top of the entertainment heap. If there was one thing Charlotte understood and respected, it was hard work. And if there was one thing she detested, it was someone being wrongly accused of anything, especially murder.

Charlotte smiled encouragingly at the young woman. “How you doing, hon?”

“Just how do you think I’m doing?” Angel shot back. But the instant the harsh retort left her mouth, a glazed look of remorse spread over her face. “Sorry about that,” she said, her voice low and subdued. “Sorry,” she repeated. “That’s no way to treat someone who’s trying to help you.”

Charlotte sighed. “No, I’m the one who should apologize. Considering the circumstances, that was a pretty stupid question. I do have a not-so-stupid question for you, though.”

Angel frowned. “Yeah, well, Benny said that you could help, but—” She shrugged. “I’m not sure anyone can help me.” Tears filled her eyes. “One thing I want you to know, though.” She blinked back the tears. “I did
not
kill Nick.”

Charlotte wasn’t sure what she had expected from Angel’s attorney, but sitting like a bump on a log and saying nothing encouraging to his client was just not right. With a glancing glare at the lawyer, Charlotte said, “And one thing I want you to know. I believe you. But whether you killed Nick or not wasn’t my question. Like I told Benny, I’m no professional by any stretch of the imagination, but I will do what I can.” Ignoring the rude snort from Barry James, Charlotte said, “So, back to my question. Was Nick blackmailing you, and if so, why?”