Fame Is A Killer Page 3

  I didn’t say any of this out of jealousy. I had a Golden Thespian statuette of my own. I just happened to keep mine in a box in my bedroom closet. If Trent had stored his statuette in his closet, it most likely wouldn’t have turned into a murder weapon.

  Enough about the Golden Thespian award. There was a far more pressing matter at hand. Namely, finding a way to get the detective to believe me. Even though he had disputed each of my previous points, I had a new one to throw his way.

  “I’ll bet you didn’t find my fingerprints on the murder weapon.”

  “Your argument isn’t as helpful to your case as you seem to think. We didn’t find any prints on the murder weapon whatsoever. It looks like the killer wiped the statuette clean before they left his house.”

  Once again, another one of my points had been refuted. I decided to take a different approach.

  “You keep talking to me like I’m your prime suspect, but there were plenty of other people I can think of who had a bone to pick with Trent. Take his ex-girlfriend, for example. Or his brother, even,” I argued.

  Detective Noble wouldn’t be thrown off his game. “Don’t worry. I will be following up with all of them. Right now, I’m focused on you.”

  I became exasperated. “You’re wasting your time. I have told you everything I know, which is nothing.”

  The detective stared me down long and hard. “That’s the story you’re sticking with?”

  I didn’t waver. “Yes, because it’s the truth.”

  Detective Noble narrowed his eyes at me then threw a warning my way.

  “We’ll see about that. Don’t go leaving town on me.”

  “Trust me, I won’t,” I replied.

  The detective then went on his way.

  Chapter Six

  Detective Noble didn’t know me, or he would have realized the last thing I ever intended to do in a situation like this was to flee. Part of it was that I had nothing to run from. The other part was that I wasn’t about to let myself potentially go to jail for a crime I didn’t commit. It was unwise to underestimate someone whose freedom was at stake.

  The good news was that the truth was on my side. I had committed no crime. Now, I just had to find a way to convince the detective of that. At the same time, finding a murderer wasn’t a one-person job—especially not on an empty stomach.

  As the detective’s car pulled out of my driveway, it became clear that there were three things I needed right then: coffee, breakfast, and an ally. Grabbing a meal with my friend Jenna at our favorite breakfast spot in Santa Monica fulfilled all those needs at once.

  Jenna gladly met up with me half an hour later, especially after I mentioned that I was treating her to breakfast. After taking a seat in our customary corner booth of the sleekly decorated hipster restaurant, I waited until I had some coffee in my system before I broke the crazy news to Jenna.

  As expected, she was in shock after I told her what the detective had told me.

  “I can’t believe this,” Jenna said.

  “How do you think I feel? My whole life, I’ve dreamt of being famous. Now I have the infamy of being a murder suspect,” I replied.

  Her eyes were as wide as saucers. “This all just has to be a mistake, right? The detective can’t honestly think you might have done this.”

  “Detectives aren’t exactly known for their senses of humor. I know that from experience.”

  Growing up in a law enforcement family, there were very few laughs around the dinner table at home. To be fair, being a detective was a deadly serious profession. By that same token, it was cathartic to cut loose every so often, even if just to lighten the mood. Just don’t try telling that to my father or brother.

  Jenna continued to shake her head in disbelief. “Whether this is just a horrible joke or a terrible mistake, the detective is wrong. You’re not a murderer.”

  “Thanks for believing in me.” I took a deep breath. “I’m still in shock that Trent was murdered at all.”

  “Trust me, there’s a lot of shock to go around. First, that Trent broke up with you in the first place. Next, that he was murdered. Finally, that you of all people are a suspect. That’s a lot to take in.”

  “If you throw in the last day of filming of our TV show, it has been a crazy last twenty-four hours.”

  Jenna sighed. “Tell me about it. I mean, at first, I thought you called me here to catch up on gossip about the wrap party last night.”

  “I wish I had time to gossip. That would be infinitely easier than where I find myself now,” I said.

  Jenna gave me the most sympathetic look she could muster. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you.”

  “Thanks. It still doesn’t even feel real. I mean, I never thought anything like this would happen to me—to find myself in such a terrible position—”

  “Why would you ever think something like this would happen? This whole situation is crazy.”

  “That’s not even the craziest part,” I said.

  Jenna scrunched her nose. “What could be crazier than this?”

  I took a deep breath. “I know this is going to sound nuts, but just bear with me.”

  “By the way, ‘I know this is going to sound nuts’ is probably not the best way to start a sentence,” she replied.

  I let out a nervous laugh before refocusing. There was a feeling in my gut that had been growing ever since I’d finished talking with the detective earlier. I knew that desperate times often called for desperate measures. In my mind, what was more desperate than being under suspicion of murder? The more I thought about the situation, the more I began to realize there was only one way to solve my problem.

  Unfortunately, that solution was highly unconventional—the kind of thing that sounded like a joke when it was said aloud. Only, it was completely serious. What was the solution exactly? If I was going to conclusively prove my innocence, I would have to find the real killer myself.

  Jenna got tired of waiting for me to respond. “Hope, what’s this crazy idea of yours?”

  I took a deep breath then explained myself. “I’m going to do some investigating of my own.”

  Jenna almost spat out her drink. “What?”

  I hated having to repeat it, especially after her extreme reaction. I managed to compose myself again then revealed my plan once more. “I’m going to try to find the real killer myself.”

  Jenna’s reaction got even worse the second time around. Her mouth hung open, completely frozen in place.

  “Jenna, are you okay?”

  My friend untied her tongue. “Hope, please tell me you didn’t just say that.”

  I bit the corner of my lip. “I don’t have much of a choice here.”

  She put her head in her hands. “Oh, dear. You really are serious.”

  “You don’t think I’d rather let the police find the killer?”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  “Because the detective thinks I might have actually done this.”

  “So what, you’re just going to throw yourself in harm’s way by questioning murder suspects yourself?”

  “The way I see it, it’s my only option.”

  She shook her head. “No. There has to be a better option than this.”

  “Name one.”

  I gave her a moment to come up with a response, but she couldn’t think of one.

  “Face it, the only way I can definitely prove my innocence is to find the killer myself.”

  “I think this is a terrible idea. There’s a murderer out there. They have already struck once. Who is to say they won’t go after you next for poking your head around?”

  “I didn’t say I liked my choices. It’s not like I want to do this.”

  “Then don’t,” Jenna said.

  “You don’t get it. I have to. What if the detective arrests me for a crime I didn’t commit?” I asked.

  Jenna relented. “That would be horrible.”

  “Exactly.”

  Her worries didn’t s
top there. An all-new one cropped up. “But here’s the thing, you’re not a detective.”

  “No, but I did play one on TV.”

  “Yes, when the ending was all scripted out, and you weren’t in any actual danger.”

  “You’re missing my point.”

  “Am I? Because that seems like a pretty big point.”

  I kept going. “You don’t play a detective for seven years without picking up some tricks of the trade. Not to mention, I come from a law enforcement family.”

  “I get all of that, but this is the real deal with possibly deadly consequences. There’s no room for error.”

  “I’ll have to do it right the first time, then.”

  Jenna stared me down and saw that I wouldn’t be deterred. She gave up trying to argue with me and turned to the Lord instead.

  “I’ll say a prayer for you,” Jenna replied.

  “Thank you, but I’m going to need more than that,” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I really need your help.”

  She was wary with her reply. “What kind of help?”

  “To start, I have to sort out the suspects. The killer already has a leg up on me. If I’m going to do this, I need to get things straight in my head.”

  Jenna still had trepidation in her voice, but she indulged me. “Okay.”

  ***

  Jenna and I ate our meals, then I went over the potential suspect list with her.

  “First I’d have to go with his loser mooch of a brother, Scott Harper,” I said.

  “Because he was jealous of his older brother’s success?” Jenna asked.

  I nodded. “That, and with their parents both being deceased, Scott would stand to inherit all of Trent’s money.”

  “There’s a motive for you.”

  “That’s only the beginning,” I said.

  “Who else might have had reason to want Trent dead?”

  “Maybe Trent’s new girlfriend, Lucy Richmond.”

  Jenna scrunched her nose. “What motive would she have?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m not quite sure yet. Maybe they had some kind of a fight last night. It’s hard to tell right now. That’s what an investigation is for, though, right?”

  “I guess. Are those the only two people on your list?”

  “Far from it. There’s also Trent’s recently fired agent, Walter O’Reilly,” I said.

  “That’s right. Trent had just landed that new big role in that TV series. I’ll bet Walter wasn’t thrilled to be missing out on that ten percent commission,” Jenna replied.

  I nodded. “Revenge is one of the oldest motives there is. At the same time, Brock Lewis might have wanted some revenge of his own.”

  Jenna’s face went blank. “Brock Lewis?”

  “The other actor that was up for the lead role that Trent ended up landing. The studio had narrowed things down to just Brock and Trent before Trent finally beat Brock out for the part.”

  “Right. And we both know how bitter actors can be over getting beat out for a part,” Jenna said.

  “Especially when they get so close to fame only to come up short in the end.”

  “Are those all the possible suspects you can think of?”

  I shook my head. “There’s one more—Trent’s ex-girlfriend, Amy Turner.”

  “That’s right. The crazy ex who never got over him dumping her a year ago.”

  “Exactly. Her motive speaks for itself.”

  Jenna sat back in her chair and took a deep breath. “It sounds like you have your work cut out for you.”

  My friend wasn’t kidding. “Yeah. Even more than I first thought.”

  “You might want to order a cup of coffee for the road.”

  “I’m going to need a lot more than that.”

  “You’re right. You should get a muffin, too.”

  “I meant, I’m going to need to dig up some leads and have luck on my side,” I said.

  Jenna took a sip of her coffee. “Well, if I can help you with anything, just let me know.”

  She had said that to be polite, but I planned on taking her up on her offer.

  “Actually, I can think of something,” I replied.

  She must have seen the glimmer in my eyes, because Jenna immediately stiffened up.

  “Uh-oh. I know that look,” Jenna said. “I don’t like that look.”

  Chapter Seven

  “When I said I would help you, I didn’t have this in mind,” Jenna remarked.

  I had no intention of putting my friend in harm’s way. She had a hard time believing that as we sat in her sedan, parked on the street in front of Trent’s Beverly Hills house. What she didn’t realize was that I just needed her to act as a lookout for me. My plan was to check out the crime scene in hopes of finding a crucial bit of evidence that the police may have overlooked. It was a long shot, but one that I had to take.

  It was one thing to say I was going to take a look at the crime scene—it was another to actually get out of the car and do it. As I sat in the passenger seat of Jenna’s sedan, the gravity of the situation really hit me. I stared at the yellow police tape cordoning off the area and realized this was no longer just the house of my old boyfriend. It was now a crime scene as well—where Trent had drawn his last breath. That was a disturbing thing to grapple with.

  The police were long gone, but that didn’t make doing this any easier. I had to be very careful. It could be disastrous if any of Trent’s neighbors spotted me poking around. I wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea of going behind the yellow police tape, but if I was going to find the killer, I had to get as many breaks as I could.

  “Hope, are you really going to do this?” Jenna asked.

  “Trust me, when I woke up this morning, I didn’t think I would be doing anything as crazy as this. I had my sights set on a spa day,” I replied.

  Jenna’s mind drifted. Spa was a dangerous word in her presence, almost immediately triggering a daydream on her part.

  “Now that would have been a great way to spend the day,” Jenna said.

  “I’ll tell you what, when this is all over, I’ll take us both out for a spa day,” I said.

  “Can this be over now?” she asked.

  “Hey, you can still back out of this if it makes you too uncomfortable.”

  Jenna grimaced and thought about it long and hard. Finally, after coming to a decision, she turned to me.

  “Just make it quick,” she said.

  I smiled at her. “Thanks again for your help.”

  “Don’t think that I’m not going to take you up on that spa day.”

  “I know you will.”

  “All the more reason to get this done quickly,” Jenna joked.

  Jenna remained in the car and acted as my lookout. I went around to the back of Trent’s house and put my plan into action. I knew that I had to be quick. Technically, what I was doing was not exactly on the up and up.

  At the same time, what I was doing was not technically breaking and entering, either, as I still had a key to Trent’s house. Suddenly, I was relieved that he had not asked me to return his house key when he broke up with me yesterday.

  As I reached Trent’s back door, I hesitated for a moment before putting the key in the lock. Finally, I mustered the courage to go through with it. I put a pair of gloves on to not leave any fingerprints, turned the key in the lock, opened the door, and let myself in.

  Even though I had gloves on, as I looked around Trent’s house, I was careful not to touch anything. Unfortunately, after poring over his kitchen, living room, and foyer, I didn’t see anything that would be useful in solving the case. What I did see was a tape outline of where the police had found his body. It was crazy because it wasn’t even Trent’s actual body in front of me, just the outline, but the mere sight of it sent a shiver down my spine.

  It frustrated me beyond belief that this had all been for nothing. Either the police had been very thorough with their investigation, o
r there hadn’t been much to find here in the first place. Regardless, I wouldn’t be leaving with any clues.

  Before I became too caught up with my thoughts, my cell phone rang.

  Uh-oh.

  I had a good feeling what that meant. Before I had gone into the house, I had told Jenna to call me if she saw anything fishy going on out front. I checked the caller ID screen of my cell phone only to have my suspicions confirmed. The call was from Jenna.

  I answered the phone in a panic. “What is it?”

  “A car just pulled up out front,” Jenna replied.

  “Oh no,” I said.

  I headed towards the back door to make a hasty exit. Jenna’s response stopped me cold.

  “That’s not all,” she said.

  “What else is going on?” I asked.

  “You won’t believe who is in the car.”

  “Is it the police?”

  “No. It’s Amy Turner.”

  I had to keep my jaw from dropping. “No way. Does she look like she’s going to try to come inside the house?”

  “I’m not sure. Either way, get out of there while you can.”

  “I’m on it.” I headed to the back door. “Jenna, I’m going to head out the back here and cut through his neighbor’s yard so Amy doesn’t spot me. Pull around to Oak Street and meet up with me there.”

  “Sure thing,” she said.

  ***

  As I met up with Jenna on Oak Street, she looked rattled. I got into the passenger seat as she tried to keep her nerves from fraying any further.

  “What now?” Jenna asked.

  I needed her to stay strong for just a little longer. My work here wasn’t done.

  “Double back to Trent’s house. Let’s see if we can sneak up on Amy from behind.”

  Jenna put the car in drive and followed my instructions, turning back onto Maple Avenue. When Jenna drove in front of Trent’s house for the second time, Amy was standing on the sidewalk putting a set of flowers down on Trent’s driveway like she was setting up a makeshift memorial for him.