Center Stage: Magnolia Steele Mystery #1 (14 page)

Momma didn’t look convinced.

“Don’t worry. If we find some useful information, and if the police will follow the leads we give them, I might get out of this.”

“That’s a lot of ifs, Magnolia,” my mother said, but then she motioned toward the stairs. “Go on and get ready. Belinda’s right. You need to look respectable.”

I left her and Emily at the table as I ran up the steps to get ready. After I shut the door behind me, I grabbed my phone. It was time to text Colt to see what he remembered.

I need to talk to you about Thursday night. Call me when you can
. As an afterthought I added,
Tell me how your performance went. Wish I’d been there.

The last part was only a partial truth, but if Colt was like most performers, he craved flattery and compliments. And I definitely needed to stay on his good side. Besides digging for other suspects, I needed to bolster the evidence of my own innocence. Emily was right; Colt’s testimony would at least buy me some reasonable doubt. At this point, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

But an hour later, I still hadn’t heard from him. I debated whether to send another text, then decided to wait until after lunch. I suspected part of my appeal to him was my hard-to-get attitude. If I looked too eager, he might not text back at all.

At 12:30 I went back downstairs, ready to fill the role of the wrongly accused ingénue. My long brunette hair hung down my back in loose curls, and my makeup was minimal, giving me a youthful, innocent look. I wore a pale pink dress with a fitted bodice and a flared skirt. Anyone with any width would look hippy, but I’d lost ten pounds for the play. It fit perfectly. I might as well wear it before I started stress eating or found myself in an orange jumpsuit.

Taking a cue from my sister-in-law, I topped the outfit off with a cream-colored sweater and a pair of matching flats. It was fifty-fifty if the short strand of pearls at the base of my neck was too much. My mother zeroed in on it the moment my foot hit the bottom step.

Her mouth pursed. “You took my mother’s pearls.”

“I only borrowed them. There
is
a difference.” I took a breath. “I’m nervous. What if we can’t get what we need from her?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted it. My mother did not tolerate weakness.

“You’ve been pretending your entire life, Magnolia. You can pretend to be brave.”

I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or an insult.

“Belinda can weasel the secrets out of a silent monk, so you’ll be a good team.”

Compliment. I was surprised. “I take it Emily left?”

“She left to call that vice president and try to dig up some dirt on that dead agent.”

I considered asking where she was digging and what kind of tool she was using, but decided to leave it a surprise. I had a little more faith in the scheming that Belinda and I were doing.

Five minutes later, I was standing at the window waiting for my sister-in-law.

“Don’t think this gets you out of cleaning,” Momma said, walking toward the stairs, the vacuum cleaner trailing behind her. “And I need you to come to the shop to help me in the kitchen as soon as you get back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I murmured as my sister-in-law pulled up in her shiny black car. I ran out the front door, my stomach in knots. Either Belinda made good money in her wedding business or my brother was making serious bank. The latter seemed unlikely. Last I’d heard, Roy had forsaken his finance degree to become a sound engineer.

My entire life was a mess—and had been for some time—but for the first time in weeks, I felt like I was finally taking control.

W
e were
a full ten minutes early, so I was surprised to see Amy already waiting in the restaurant lobby. I hung back as we entered, and Belinda greeted her first, pulling her into a tight hug. When they broke apart, Belinda still clung to her arms. “How are you doing, Amy? Really?”

Amy was about to answer when she looked over Belinda’s shoulder. Her eyes widened in shock. “You . . .”

Breaking away from Amy, Belinda snagged my hand and tugged me closer. “This is my sister-in-law, Magnolia.”

Amy looked shaken. “What is she doing here? She murdered Max Goodwin.” But acting must not have been in her job description, because her delivery was anything but convincing.

“Why, that’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard,” Belinda cooed. “Magnolia—a
murderer
?”

“But Luke found her next to the body.”

Belinda tilted her head and gave her the kind of look a patient mother would give an irrational toddler. “That doesn’t mean she killed him. She went up to meet Luke—just like he asked—and that’s when she found Max’s body.”

A couple on their way to the hostess stand gave us a nervous look, having clearly overheard part of our conversation.

Belinda pulled Amy toward the opposite wall of the entryway. “Let’s just get a table, and we can discuss it more privately.”

But Amy kept her gaze on me, clearly not approving of this plan. “Why is she here?”

“I already told you that she’s my sister-in-law. We want to talk to you about the party.”

“No.” Amy seemed a little too adamant for someone who had nothing to hide.

While I’d told Belinda about being holed up with Amy in that room in Luke’s mansion, I hadn’t mentioned Amy’s bizarre behavior. At the time I’d assumed it was her way of dealing with the stress; now I was starting to wonder if it was something else. But what could that
something else
be?

Belinda’s mouth opened as if on a hinge. “
Amy
.” She took a breath, then gave her a gentle smile. “Okay, how about this? We’ll just have lunch and talk about everything
but
the party?”

Amy looked uncertain.

“You said you wanted to hear all about the Martin wedding. It turned out even crazier than we thought it would.”

Amy’s mouth twisted as she considered the offer.

“I can go if you want,” I said. It was starting to seem like Belinda would get more information out of her if I weren’t around.

“Don’t be silly,” Belinda said, placing her hand on my arm. “You can stay.” She turned to Amy. “Tell her she can stay.”

Amy paused, casting a glance to Belinda. “You can stay.”

A few moments later, we were following the hostess to a table. I still wasn’t sure staying was the best decision, but it seemed too late to back out now.

We sat down and Belinda and Amy made small talk about a mutual friend until the waitress took our orders. Then Belinda launched into a story about a wedding she’d orchestrated for two people from very different backgrounds—the bride was from a stiff upper-crust Belle Meade family, and the groom hailed from a rambunctious family from a small Alabama town.

I downed my salad in record time, partly because I was starving and partly because I wasn’t part of the conversation, not that I minded. Listening to Belinda’s story meant I could momentarily forget the circus of my own life. But then she swung the conversation back to Amy.

“You’ve done a remarkable job handling the adverse publicity from the murder,” Belinda said as she chased an olive on her plate with her fork. “I’ve heard no negative feedback whatsoever about Luke’s party ending with a murder.”

Amy shifted in her seat a little, and from the look on her face, it was like Belinda had caught her shoplifting. “I have to admit part of it came from Magnolia’s idea.” She gave me a grudging look of gratitude. “She helped me put a new spin on the party after the sales for Luke’s latest album came in lower than expected. Your idea totally saved the day, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

Belinda gave me a warm smile.

“I tried to channel the same thought process you used to find a new spin on
this
situation.” Amy raised an eyebrow. “I
might
have had a hand in the #GoodRiddanceGoodwin hashtag . . .”

Belinda seemed caught between horror and respect, settling on the latter with a nod. “Well, good for you.” She finally stabbed the olive with a satisfying thunk and looked back up at her friend. “The way that hashtag has been catching fire, I suspect there must have been a lot of people at the party who had motive to kill Max Goodwin.”

Amy looked uncomfortable.

“Why, I’ll bet half a dozen or more of the guests held a grudge against Max Goodwin.”

Amy’s face hardened. “Belinda, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Amy, what are you so afraid of?”

“Afraid of? What are you talking about?” But her hand gripped the fork a little more tightly than was warranted. “I’m just not supposed to talk about it.”

“Who says you’re not supposed to talk about it?” Belinda asked. “The police?”

Amy hesitated. “Luke.”

“Because of the publicity?”

She didn’t answer.

Belinda gave me a questioning glance, then trained her patient stare back on Amy. “Do you think you could give us a copy of the guest list?”

Amy looked down at her plate. “I can’t.”

“Come on, Amy. Surely Magnolia didn’t have the strongest motive. I know for a fact that Henry McNamara was there. He hated Max, and so did Paul Locke after Max screwed him on his contract.” When Amy stayed silent, Belinda leaned closer. “How about a hint on how to contact Paul?”

“I don’t know . . .”

“Like Belinda said,” I added softly, “there were a lot of people who wanted to get even with Max. You wouldn’t be telling us anything we couldn’t find out on our own. You’d just be helping us save time.” I leaned forward and held her gaze. “Amy, I didn’t kill him, but I’m pretty sure the police are about to arrest me.”

Tears filled her eyes again. “I don’t want to lose my job.”

“Are you protecting someone in Luke’s entourage?” I asked.

“No. Of course not!” But her response came out a little too fast and insistent.

“You know,” Belinda said in a soothing tone. “Once Magnolia’s name has been cleared, the police will go looking elsewhere. It’s obvious you know of someone else who might have a motive but who, like Magnolia, obviously didn’t do it . . . only maybe it won’t be so obvious to the police.”

Amy hesitated, gnawing on her bottom lip.

“While we’re clearing Magnolia’s name, we can look for evidence to prove he or she is innocent too. Maybe we’ll find the real culprit and free them both.” She paused. “But we have to know who you’re protecting.”

Amy glanced around to see if anyone was listening, then leaned close, whispering so low it was hard to hear her. “Luke. He could be a suspect.”

That was the very last name I’d expected to hear from her.

“He didn’t invite Max to the party—in fact, he forbade him from coming. Luke heard about your argument with him, and he was pissed that the security guards had let him in. I think that’s part of the reason he had me go find you. To see who had dared to stand up to Max Goodwin in public. Everyone was afraid of that monster.”

I shook my head. “You don’t need to worry, Amy. It couldn’t have been Luke. He was the one who walked in and found me next to Max’s body.”

She didn’t look convinced.

“Couldn’t the hallway guard just tell the police when he let Luke in?”

Amy shook her head. “No. Luke would have taken the back staircase.”

That meant the real killer had probably used the back staircase too. Maybe Colt hadn’t seen anything useful after all.

Belinda patted her hand. “You know, if you left your iPad unlocked and on the table, maybe even open to the guest list, you’d have no way of knowing if someone saw it.”

“Belinda, I don’t want to get into trouble. I shouldn’t have even told you about Luke.”

Belinda’s hand squeezed tighter around Amy’s. “You won’t. No one will
ever
know.”

Amy studied her for several seconds, then gave her a slight nod. She pulled her hand loose and took her iPad out of her bag. After tapping on the screen for a few seconds, she said, “I need to go to the ladies’ room.” She gave Belinda a tight smile as she stood. “I suspect this might take about five minutes.”

We watched her walk around the corner before Belinda grabbed the tablet and got to work.

“Why’s she so nervous?” I asked, glancing back toward the hall.

“Luke is a pretty private guy. He doesn’t tolerate people giving up his secrets.”

“Yeah, but there seems to be more to it than that.”

Belinda’s face lifted and she held my gaze. “You of all people should understand celebrities’ need for secrecy.”

“But doesn’t she trust you?”

She sighed as she tapped the screen. “Honestly, losing this job would be healthier for her. Luke doesn’t appreciate her like he should, but Amy puts up with it.” Her face lifted slightly to give me a sideways glance. “Amy is secretly in love with Luke, only it’s not so secret to Luke and to a few of the people in his entourage.” She paused and frowned. “He takes advantage of that.”

Griff had taken advantage of my need for him, so I knew all too well what that felt like. “So she’s terrified that he’ll find out and she’ll lose her job?”

She nodded.

“Why would she love someone like that?”

Belinda went still for a moment before she resumed typing. “We love who we love, Magnolia. Sometimes we’re too damn blinded by it to take a step back.”

I nearly gasped to hear Belinda curse, something I’d assumed would only happen on a cold day in hell, but the resignation in her voice gave me pause. Was she referring to Roy? I knew my brother, or at least I used to know him. It wasn’t a stretch. He’d shown bullying tendencies when we were kids, and I wasn’t so sure he’d outgrown them by the time I’d left.

My gaze lifted to the hall. “She’s coming.”

Belinda finished her tapping and then opened up Amy’s photo folder. As Amy sat down, she pointed to an image of an ocean sunset. “This is gorgeous. Was that taken on the West Coast?”

“L.A.”

This game seemed ridiculous, but that wasn’t to say I didn’t understand it. Plausible deniability. Amy knew we had looked at the file, but she hadn’t seen us do it.

Setting the tablet down, Belinda waved to the waitress. “I’m sure you have a million things to do,” she said to Amy. “But we need to get together under better circumstances.”

Amy released a short laugh. “It’s hard to believe we’re still the same girls who moved to Nashville six years ago.” Her mouth twisted into a sad smile. “Look at us now. Neither one of us are doing what we came here for. Do you ever wonder if you’re on the right path?”

Belinda’s smile wavered. “Of course. Everyone does.”

Amy shook her head as she reached for her wallet. “Listen to me get all nostalgic. But you’re right. I really do need to go. Luke’s having another small party tonight. I need to get things ready for it.”

“Industry people?” Belinda asked.

Amy’s upper lip curled as she pulled out her credit card. “His hangers-on.”

“You put your money away,” Belinda said, patting her hand. “My treat.”

Amy slipped her card back into the slot in her wallet, then stuffed it into her purse. She glanced up at Belinda with tears in her eyes. “I know you don’t understand.”

My sister-in-law was silent for several seconds. “I understand better than you think.” She lowered her voice. “But someone killed Max Goodwin, justified or not. And it sure as heck wasn’t Magnolia. I have to protect her.”

“But you’re choosing her over me, Belinda. We’ve been friends for years, and you barely even know her.”

Belinda’s jaw tightened. “These are two entirely different situations. I’m protecting her. You’re just covering for your boss.”

Tears flooded her eyes. “Don’t be so sure about that.” She stood to leave, but then turned and said, “Check out Tina Schmidt. I heard a rumor that she threatened Max at a club a month ago. Like
actually
threatened to kill him. She was at the party.”

With that, she walked away, her heels clicking across the tile floor.

The waitress came to drop off the bill, but Belinda handed her a credit card without even reviewing it.

“Did you get the list?” I asked as she pulled out her phone. “You didn’t write anything down.”

“I emailed it to myself.”

“What if Luke suspects she told us and checks her email?”

“It won’t be there. I signed into my own email account, then uploaded the file and sent it to myself.”

Belinda was turning out to be a whole lot savvier than I’d expected.

“But a quick search on social media tells me where Paul Locke and Tina Schmidt currently are.”

“You’re kidding.”

She flashed me a sweet smile. “Feel like dropping in on a few people and saying hello?”

“Are you serious? You want to question people?”

Her eyes widened. “Sure, why not?”

“But you’re so sweet. Going to people’s homes and practically accusing them of murder seems so wrong.”

She jutted her head back and frowned. “No one’s accusing anyone of
anything
.” She shook her head at my silliness. “All we’re doin’ is asking about the party. That’s all.”

“I think Momma is expecting me to come help her in the kitchen.”

She pulled out her phone and started swiping. “I’ll just send her a text to let her know we have some work to do. I’ll drop you off when we’re done.”

“Maybe we should give the names to the police and let them look into it.” But as soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to reel them back in. I didn’t trust Detective Holden to check into them. But even if it needed to be done, it didn’t sit well. “So we’re really doing this?”

Belinda’s face lit up with a cheerful smile. “We’re doin’ it.”

“Where do you want to start first?” I asked. She was the one with a car, a situation I needed to remedy soon. I’d had a car back in high school, but it was in Momma’s name, so I was sure she’d sold it long ago. I hadn’t needed or wanted one in New York.