Slay Bells and Satchels (Haley Randolph Mystery Series) (13 page)

Or maybe he’d figured it out online, somehow, like the other psycho stalkers did.

“When I saw you outside my apartment, I remembered you from the store so I thought you could answer some questions for me about McKenna,” Trent said. “The cops, they won’t tell me anything.”

Trent sounded upset about McKenna’s death. The other actresses had said he genuinely loved her.

Or maybe it was obsession.

“Where have you been?” I asked. “Nobody has seen or heard from you in a while.”

He got a weird look on his face which creeped me out big-time.

“Is that why you came to my apartment?” he asked. “You were worried about me?”

“Lots of people were worried,” I said.

Okay, that wasn’t exactly true, but I thought it better to minimize my concern.

“I was too bummed out to talk to anybody,” Trent said. “So what happened? How did McKenna … die?”

This hardly seemed the best time to get into this kind of conversation, but I didn’t know when I’d have a chance to talk to him again, so I rolled with it.

“Don’t you know?” I asked. “You were in the store that morning.”

“I thought it would be cool,” he said. “McKenna told me she was going to wear an elf costume, so I figured I’d dress up like Santa, get our picture together. McKenna takes great pictures. Look.”

He reached into his shirt pocket where I could see the outline of his cell phone, but no way did I want to amble down memory lane with him.

“So you saw McKenna that morning?” I asked.

Trent’s face twisted into a frown. “I waited outside with the customers. I saw the elves inside, before the store opened, but I couldn’t spot McKenna.”

That was because she was already dead, stuffed inside the giant toy bag in the stockroom.

McKenna had been murdered before the store opened. Trent could have gone in through the rear door of the stockroom that Jasmine had left open, gotten McKenna to join him back there, killed her, then left through the same door and come around to the front of the store and hung out with the other customers. It made for a pretty good alibi.

But why? Why would Trent have wanted McKenna dead?

“I heard McKenna was moving out of your place,” I said.

“No way.”

Anger bubbled up in Trent. He took a step toward me. I wanted to step back but didn’t, since I figured he’d follow and that would put us both inside my apartment.

“Who told you that?” he demanded. He curled his hand into a fist and pounded it against his palm. “It was that bitch Alyssa, wasn’t it? She was so jealous of McKenna. She got that great sitcom role, and Alyssa couldn’t stand it.”

My heart pounded harder in my chest. My mind whirled trying to think of how to get away from this guy. I knew I couldn’t jump back, slam my front door and turn the lock before Trent pushed it open, and he was so big I couldn’t dash around him and get away—not barefoot, wearing a floor-length gown.

Maybe instead of the Breathless purse I should have asked Jack for a gun.

I hope I still get a chance to do that.

“Getting that role was a big deal,” I said, trying to calm Trent down. “How did McKenna manage it?”

“She met some big producer.” Trent fumed for another few seconds, then smiled. “McKenna was so beautiful. The guy just loved her. He cast her right away. I’ve got a picture of it. I downloaded it off of her phone the other day. Want to see?”

Good grief. Enough with the pictures.

“So McKenna got a fantastic role, but Alyssa didn’t,” I said. “Sounds like Alyssa blew her big chance, all right.”

“Damn straight.”

“Must have been exciting,” I said, “living with an upcoming big star, knowing you’d be going to premier parties, hanging out with celebrities.”

Trent shook his head. “McKenna wasn’t into all of that. She loved
me
.”

From what the other actresses had said about McKenna, I doubted that was true. But this was hardly the time to mention it.

Trent seemed lost in thought for a minute to two, then said, “Can you tell me what happened to McKenna? You were in the store that morning, weren’t you? Do you know?”

I never really understood why people wanted the sordid details surrounding the death of somebody they loved, but maybe knowing about those final minutes made them feel closer, somehow.

Maybe telling Trent something about that morning would make him feel better.

Maybe it would get him to leave.

But no way was I telling him that I was the one who’d found McKenna. I was far from convinced that Trent hadn’t murdered her, and knowing that I’d witnessed the crime scene might make him think he had to murder me, too.

“I heard a few things mentioned in the store,” I said. “She hit her head.”

Trent flinched and rocked back a little, as if he could feel the same pain McKenna must have felt.

“Do you … do you think she suffered?” he asked quietly.

I flashed on the Christmas decorations that had been knocked onto the stockroom floor in what must have been one heck of a struggle, the heavy nutcracker she’d been struck with, the big pool of blood.

“No,” I said. “I don’t think so.”

Trent just stood there for a few more minutes, then nodded.

“Thanks, Haley,” he said. “Thanks for telling me. I won’t forget you for this.”

Oh,
please
, forget me.

He walked away, then stopped and turned back.

“I’ll send you that picture,” he said.

“Great,” I said, then jumped back into my apartment, closed the door and turned the lock.

I drew in a couple of big breaths trying to calm down, then looked out the peep hole in my door.

No sign of Trent.

I hoped that meant he’d actually left and wasn’t still hanging around out there.

Oh my God, I was so rattled. Nothing could help me now but my emergency bag of Oreos.

I got them from the top shelf of my kitchen cabinet and medicated my way through a half-dozen or so as I changed into my pajamas, combed out my hair, and washed off my makeup. I was too wound up to sleep, so I plopped down on my living room sofa to think.

Trent jumped into my head.

I hadn’t heard back from Detective Shuman since I had left him a message after leaving Trent’s apartment, voicing my concern that Trent’s neighbors had put him in the possible-stalker-avoid-that-weirdo category. I wasn’t sure if that meant Shuman had already checked into Trent’s background and found nothing, and he hadn’t bothered to call and tell me, or if perhaps he was too busy with other aspects of McKenna’s homicide investigation.

Or maybe he was hanging out with his girlfriend.

I crammed two cookies into my mouth and re-focused my thoughts.

Trent seemed to genuinely believe McKenna loved him and was convinced she wouldn’t have moved out after her big break. But I doubted that was true. I recalled how the elf actresses were talking about McKenna the morning I’d rounded them all up and brought them to the training room, before Jeanette had told them about McKenna’s death. One of them had mentioned she was looking at condos on the beach.

If she really was planning to dump Trent and move out, maybe he’d found out. Maybe, as psycho stalkers were wont to do, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her so he killed her—which didn’t make a lot of sense to me, but there it was.

It was the closest thing to a motive for McKenna’s murder that I’d come up with so far.

I spun the top off of another Oreo, licked the icing, then shoved the cookie into my mouth.

If I needed a motive for someone simply
not liking
McKenna, it would be Alyssa. And, really, I couldn’t blame her.

Alyssa had blown her big chance when she’d won that contest and met with a producer, while McKenna had made such a good impression she’d been cast practically on the spot. Envy and jealousy weren’t uncommon in any profession, but even more so among actors. From what I’d seen, their lives were pretty tough. Financial problems, audition after audition, rejection after rejection. To be that close and not make it must have crushed Alyssa, especially because she’d been trying for so long—she was twenty-five years old, after all.

Plus, it seemed, McKenna hadn’t been very gracious about winning the role. In fact, she’d been flaunting it to anyone and everyone within ear shot.

Had it been too much for Alyssa? Had she simply reached her boiling point with McKenna and lashed out?

And then there was that whole rent thing with Jasmine. Disputes over money had killed a lot of people.

I popped another cookie into my mouth.

Alyssa, Jasmine, and Trent had all been at the store that morning, but so far I hadn’t uncovered a good reason for any of them to murder McKenna.

Crap.

Since I knew I’d be out late at the Staffords’ party last night, I scheduled myself for the late shift today at Holt’s. For once, I was glad to be in the store—but only because this was the last time I’d have to wear this god-awful elf costume, and I was anxious to get the whole Summer Santa Sale thing over with.

Usually, the crowd slowed down as the day wore on, but not today. Customers pillaged and plundered the shelves and racks, desperate, it seemed, to max out their credit cards and overdraw their bank accounts while comforting themselves with the but-it’s-a-great-price excuse, a personal favorite of mine.

The Summer Santa Sale was in its final death throes but none of the store management seemed ready to give up on it—or its contribution to their annual bonuses. The department managers had taken to the sales floor themselves, hitting up customers for donations to the children’s charity.

Jeanette led the effort—which I didn’t think really helped the cause. In keeping with her Christmas-themed attire, today she had on a brown pantsuit with, for no apparent reason, a huge red button at her throat.

She looked kind of like the Rudolph float in the Macy’s parade.

“Hi, Haley,” Nikki said, and walked up with her usual perky smile in place. “You look upset. Are you okay?”

Considering that Rita—I hate her—had assigned me to the Infants Department—I hate that department—and I had two more grueling hours to go wearing an elf costume, and almost nobody in the store was speaking to me, plus my boyfriend had ditched me last night and I’d been visited by a possible psycho-stalker, and I still hadn’t figured out who had killed McKenna, I thought I was in pretty good shape.

Apparently, I wasn’t pulling it off as well as I’d thought.

“Just a lot of stuff going on, that’s all,” I said.

Nikki nodded as if she knew exactly what I meant, though I sincerely doubted it.

“At least Alyssa came in today,” she said, giving me a doesn’t-that-make-it-all-better smile. “She’s really good at getting donations. Maybe the store will finish in next-to-last-place instead of the very bottom.”

Yes, that was something to look forward to, all right.

“It was fun working here,” Nikki said.

She sounded as if she meant it and, honestly, Nikki had been really sweet. I liked her and I’d miss her.

“You’ll probably be a big star next year,” I said. “But just in case you’re not, maybe you can come back and work the sale again.”

“That would be so cool,” Nikki said. She glanced off to the right and her eyes got big. “I see a customer.”

She dashed away.

My day needed a boost. I desperately needed to talk to somebody who would take my mind off my problems—and a Snickers bar wouldn’t hurt, either.

Marcie, my best BFF on the entire planet, sprang into my mind, along with the vending machine in the break room. With the blatant disregard for Holt’s no-phones-on-the-sales-floor policy that I was known for, I pulled out my cell and headed for the rear of the store.

Bella stepped into the aisle from the Boys Department.

“It’s b.s.,” she said. “You ask me, it’s b.s.”

Even though Bella hadn’t been tasked with wearing an elf costume, she’d kept up her commitment to holiday-hair right to the bitter end. Today she’d fashioned what looked like a candy cane atop her head.

Bella looked mega annoyed about something, and I really had enough problems of my own. But since she was one of the two people who’d spoken to me so far today, I stopped.

“What’s up?” I asked, and tucked my cell phone into my pocket.

“That big sign in the break room,” she said.

There was a sign in the break room?

“About the store meeting tonight,” she said.

There was a meeting?

“Can you believe it?” Bella said. “All the employees
have
to be there. Jeanette is even calling employees who aren’t working, telling them to come in.”

Oh, crap. This couldn’t be good.

“We’re probably going to have to sit there for an hour, getting yelled at because we did so bad in the contest,” Bella said.

“That’s b.s., all right,” I said.

“Damn right it is,” she grumbled, and walked away.

Well, that didn’t exactly brighten my day. Now I absolutely had to talk to Marcie. I pulled out my cell phone again and—come on, really?—my day actually got worse. Trent had texted me.

For a few seconds, I ignored it. Then I thought that maybe this could be something good. Maybe he’d texted me his confession.

I hit the view button on my cell phone and his message popped up. Only it wasn’t a message. It was a picture of McKenna.

He’d tried to show it to me last night but I’d plowed ahead with questions, hoping to uncover some evidence in McKenna’s death. I guess Trent was just bound and determined I was going see the picture that had been taken at her big meeting with the Hollywood producer.

I ducked behind the greeting cards display rack and accessed the picture.

The photo had been taken outside on a restaurant patio. From the buildings in the background, I guessed it was in downtown L.A. somewhere. Bright sunshine filtered through vine-covered lattice work. The tables were covered with yellow linens, and set with floral china.

My heart did a little dip, seeing McKenna in the center of the shot, knowing she was dead now. Her arm was raised as she held up what I guessed was her phone to snap the picture of herself, on what had surely been the greatest day of her life.