Center Stage: Magnolia Steele Mystery #1 (25 page)

“Doesn’t Luke have people for that?”

“They’re dealing with it head on. I’m dealing with it in the background.”

“Can you tell me who was killed and how? I heard a man was stabbed in the heart.”

Amy sniffed. “It was Neil Fulton. Luke’s attorney. I found him in the kitchen last night at around nine.”

“Why was Luke’s attorney there at nine o’clock on a Saturday night?”

“They say there’s no such thing as bad publicity, but that’s not true when murder is involved. Neil was probably coming over to give Luke an update.”

“Why would Luke’s attorney be in his kitchen?”

“He used to come over all the time, so he had the code to get in and out of the kitchen.”

“Why would someone kill Luke’s attorney?”

“I have no idea.” But she didn’t sound completely convincing.

“Did he have a connection to Max Goodwin?”

“Not that I know about.”

“Were any of the people at Luke’s party last night at his release party?”

“All twenty of them.”

Well, that narrowed it down. “I hate to ask this, but did Luke and his attorney get along?”

Amy didn’t respond.

“Amy, do you think Luke killed Max Goodwin and his attorney?”

“
No
.”

“Do you think the police might think he did?”

“I don’t know.”

“I want to help you, but I need a list of everyone who was there last night.”

“I already risked my job by sharing that list with Belinda, and she’s my friend.” Her words had a bite to them. “I don’t even know you, Magnolia Steele. Other than what I’ve seen of you on YouTube.”

Ouch.

“Besides,” she added. “You only want to clear your
own
name.”

“Maybe so,” I said, “but I’ll be clearing Luke’s too.”

“No. No list.”

Dammit. “Will you at least tell me if Paul Locke was there?”

She hesitated. “Yeah. He was there. Pissed at the world for having to hang out with a bunch of teenagers at the mall yesterday.”

“Anyone else I should know about?”

“I think I’ve told you enough.”

“Thank you for what you did tell me. I’ll let you know if I find out something to help.”

“I think I need a miracle,” she said, sounding close to tears. Then she hung up.

Her last statement worried me. Did she really think Luke had killed Max Goodwin and Neil Fulton? Was he stupid enough to kill two people in his own house, days apart?

I pulled up Google and entered “Paul Locke + Neil Fulton,” not surprised at the results.

Neil Fulton had represented Max Goodwin in the case against Paul Locke.

Hot damn
. Maybe I’d just found my new career.

I needed to talk to Paul Locke again . . . or at least to the people who had been with him both nights. The problem was I had no idea how to find him. But Belinda might.

I texted her.
Luke’s attorney, Neil Fulton, was the murder victim last night. I think Amy’s worried Luke is guilty, but I found out Fulton represented Max Goodwin when Paul Locke sued him to break his contract. Paul lost . . . a month ago. I need to talk to him again. Can you give me Tandy’s number?

I sent the message, then had a mini panic attack that Roy might see it. Shit.

Instead of worrying about my sister-in-law, I decided to call Jody to give her an update, but she had one for me too.

“Have you seen Sarah’s reviews for
Fireflies at Dawn
?”

“No,” I scowled, picking up my cappuccino and taking a sip. “I’ve been a little busy with my bigger crisis.” The last thing I wanted was to hear how much everybody had loved her.

“Hold on. I’m going to read a few to you.”

“Jody . . .”

“Trust me. You want to hear this.” She paused, then said in a stentorian tone, “‘Chambers’s performance has the nuance of a second grade production of
Cinderella
without the heartwarming feels.’”

“Ouch.” I winced. But I couldn’t help feeling elated. Served her right.

“Oh, that’s one of the nicer ones. How about this—‘A drowning cat would be preferable to Chambers’s warbling high notes.’”

I sat up straighter and set my coffee on the table. “You’re kidding.”

“But this is my favorite—‘One has to wonder if Steele’s spat with Chambers was her attempt to save the world from the worst performance in Broadway history. While Steele portrayed innocence and childlike wonder in the role of Scarlett, Chambers has the countenance of a prostitute trying to pass as royalty.’”

“Wow,” I said, floored. “That’s amazing.”

“I hear Griff is shitting his pants. Word is that he’s prepared to offer you the part back.”

That was the very last thing I’d expected her to say.

“What are you going to do?” she asked. “Could you work with him again after everything he did?”

“I don’t know. He tried to call me yesterday, but I didn’t answer, and I deleted his message. I figured he was calling to gloat.”

“He wants you back. Definitely for the play, maybe back in his bed too.”

“Well, that sure as hell isn’t going to happen, but if I accept the job, I don’t even know where I’d live. I was making barely above the minimum salary and rehearsals ran past the contract, which means I’ve made next to nothing for over a month. I have no money, Jody.”

“Make it part of the contract. Get Jimmy to negotiate it for you.”

I doubted I could get my agent to negotiate a deal at a swap meet. “Jimmy made it pretty clear we were done.”

“Magnolia,” she said in exasperation. “You’re holed up in Hicksville, U.S.A., so you’re not fully grasping what’s going on in New York. This is big. Bigger than big. There hasn’t been a controversy like this since
Spiderman
. You’ve gone from being a public laughingstock to being Broadway’s biggest martyr. To bring you back would sell tickets, and you and I both know it’s all about selling tickets.”

I groaned. “First of all, Franklin is a suburb of Nashville, and there are so many music artists here that going to church is like getting a free concert. This is
far
from Hicksville. And second, I can’t believe for one minute that anyone has called me a martyr.”

“You go to church?”

“That is
beside
the point.”

“
Magnolia
. Did you not hear that review I just read?”

“Jody . . .”

“All I’m saying is you’re going to get a call, whether it’s another one from Griff or from someone else who wants to attach your name to their show for the publicity. You need to be prepared.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

“Always. I’ve got your back, girl.”

My phone beeped and I looked at the screen, not recognizing the 615 area code number. “Jody, I’m getting another call.”

“When you get some offers—and notice I said
when
—let me know if you need someone to help you decide.”

“Thanks.” I hung up and answered the other call. “Hello?”

“Magnolia Steele?”

I recognized the man’s voice, and my blood turned to ice water.

I
steeled my voice
. “Yes.”

“This is Detective Bennett with the Franklin Police Department. I’d like you to come to the station so we can ask you a few follow-up questions after your interview with Detective Holden.”

I could only choke out one word. “When?”

“The sooner, the better.”

“I’ll come now.” I might as well get it over with.

He started to say something, but I’d already hung up before I realized it. Great. One more strike against me.

Packing up my laptop, I debated whether to call Emily. It was the smart thing to do, but she’d been so ineffective last time. Besides, it would be humiliating enough to see Brady. No need for me to bring Emily along to watch. I hadn’t done anything wrong.

A different receptionist was at the counter, but she was waiting for me. “I’ll let Detective Bennett know you’re here.”

My stomach twisted into knots as the door to the back opened, revealing Brady, who looked guarded. “Ms. Steele, thank you for coming in.”

A barb sat on my tongue, ready to spring out, but I only nodded as the full truth hit me.

Detective Brady Bennett had used me.

My eyes stung, but I blinked back tears. It was time to play a role, something I hadn’t thought I’d do with him. I was a wrongly accused woman facing the detective who had tried to play her for a fool. Well, he wasn’t going to fool me this time.

“If you’ll follow me.”

I didn’t answer. It was safer that way. I was still slipping into my part.

He took me to the same room where I’d met Detective Holden. Thankfully there was no sign of him. There was a woman at the table instead, and she stood as I entered the room. She wore black pants and a white blouse, and her black hair was cut in a short bob that brushed her jaw. Brady followed me in and shut the door behind us.

“Ms. Steele,” the woman said, extending her hand. “I’m Detective Martinez. Thank you for coming in to answer more questions.”

I shook her hand, impressed by her firm grip. My character had slipped into place. “Of course, Detective Martinez. I’m happy to be of help.”

She gestured toward the chair next to me. “If you’d like to take a seat.”

At your convenience. If you’d like to take a seat.
All thinly veiled attempts to try and persuade people they had control. I hadn’t had control for years. But they saw none of that; the woman I was portraying was the epitome of calm, cool, and collected.

I sat down and crossed my legs, wishing I were dressed in my sexy gray business dress and four-inch, black patent-leather heels. Instead my attitude would have to carry me.

“Ms. Steele, you came to the station last night at 9:53 asking to see Detective Holden.”

So I was right about the cameras. “Yes, that’s right.” There was no point in denying it.

“Instead you spoke to Detective Bennett . . .” She looked down at a notepad in front of her and then back up at me. “Or should I say, you refused to tell Detective Bennett the reason for your visit.”

I nodded. It wasn’t a question, so there was no need to answer it. I wasn’t about to give them any more information than necessary.

“What was the purpose for your visit?”

“I was worried,” I said. “I know I’m a person of interest in Mr. Goodwin’s murder, and it’s very disconcerting to have that hanging over my head. I wanted to see if my name had been cleared.” I sure as hell wasn’t giving them what I knew about Paul Locke.

“Detective Bennett says you appeared distressed.”

I’m sure Detective Bennett did
. Asshole. I gave her a tight smile. “Detective Martinez, have you ever been called a person of interest in a murder investigation?”

She cast a glance at Brady, then at me. “No, I can’t say I have.”

“I assure you that it’s a very stressful situation.”

“Only if you have something to hide,” she said as her gaze narrowed on my face.

“One only has to watch the news to realize that it’s not all that uncommon for people to be arrested for crimes they didn’t commit.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Are you saying we’re incompetent?”

I sat up straighter, resting my hands on my knees, and delivered my lines cold as an arctic wind. “I’m saying there are several detectives in this station who have yet to convince me they are looking for the true perpetrator of the crime and are not out to pin this on me.”

“You have quite the imagination,” she said.

I held her gaze.

“Where were you last night around nine o’clock?”

I’d known they would ask this question, and I’d considered how to answer it on the drive over. “I was at my mother’s catering business.”

“Doing what?”

“Napping.”

Her expression told me she didn’t buy it for a minute. “Why would you be napping at your mother’s catering business? Does she have beds there?”

“Frankly, Detective Martinez,” I said in a tight, controlled voice, “I don’t like your tone. As far as I can tell, the layout of my mother’s business has nothing to do with your investigation.”

Her cheeks reddened with anger. “I can assure you it does, Ms. Steele, when I’m trying to determine the validity of your statement.” She rested her forearm on the table and leaned closer. “Why would you take a nap at your mother’s business on a Saturday night when you could have gone home?”

Something told me not to feel so smug that I was getting to her, but I couldn’t help it. She was already aboard the
let’s arrest Magnolia for a crime she didn’t commit
train. I might have to enlist Colt’s friend’s help after all. “I was with my mother all morning. Then I spent the entire afternoon with my sister-in-law. She dropped me off at my mother’s catering business, where I helped my mother, her business partner, and an employee load their van for a catering job in Hendersonville. The employee and I rode to the job together, and after the food was unloaded, he and I took my mother’s business partner’s car to Hillsboro Village, where we had dinner at a bar. My brother and his wife showed up. Afterward, I wasn’t feeling well, so the employee dropped me off at my mother’s business to wait for her to return.”

“Why not just go to your mother’s house?”

I lifted my chin. “Because I don’t have a key.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “You don’t have a key to your own mother’s house?”

“I moved away ten years ago. I left my key behind.”

“So you took a nap at your mother’s business? What? Did you lay on one of the prep tables?” she asked in a snotty tone.

For the first time, I cast a glance at Brady, but his gaze was glued to the table.

Fucking coward.

I met her cold stare with one of my own. “My mother and her partner have a sofa in their office. I slept there.”

“What made you search out Detective Holden?”

“I already told you.”

“Why would someone like you be taking a nap at nine on a Saturday night?” She held her hands out from her sides. “Why were you so upset?”

I took a breath, pushing myself to stay in control. “I haven’t been home for ten years, Detective Martinez. Some people would rather I had stayed gone.”

“Like Max Goodwin?” she asked.

“I have no idea what Mr. Goodwin’s thoughts were on my return to Franklin.”

“Then who?”

I shook my head slightly and made a show of rolling my eyes. “My brother. He made no secret of the fact that he was not happy to see me. I was upset after our reunion, so I asked Colt to bring me back to the catering business so I could be alone.”

“Detective Bennett said you had a bruise on your right forearm and one on your left tricep.”

I ignored the sharp stab of pain that penetrated the shield over my heart. “That would be correct.”

“And where did you acquire those bruises?”

I wanted to reach across the table and slap Brady Bennett—who still couldn’t look at me—but I suspected that wouldn’t work in my favor. Instead I stayed in character. “That seems like a personal question.”

“Ms. Steele, I’m sure you’re aware there was another murder on the Powell estate last night.”

“So I heard.”

“Were you at the Powell estate last night?”

“No. After my nap, I walked to the police station and met Detective Bennett. I changed my mind about inquiring about my case and then proceeded to leave. Detective Bennett insisted on walking with me. He then tried to put me at ease by pretending to be my friend, but he was called away on a case. After that, I went back to my mother’s office, and my mother arrived a short time later.”

I could feel Brady’s eyes on me, but if I looked at him, my persona would crack.

“Where did you get the bruises, Ms. Steele?”

We engaged in a staring contest while I wrestled with what to do—plead the fifth or tell them about my brother. I knew he wouldn’t admit to it, but would Colt and Belinda corroborate?

I pushed out my breath. “My brother.”

Brady shifted in his chair, sitting upright.

Detective Martinez ignored him. “I thought you saw your brother last night—which you called a reunion—and in a bar, no less. You’re suggesting he beat you there?”

I shook my head, my persona cracking. “Why do you
care
? Contrary to Detective Bennett’s insistence last night, none of you give a damn about my well-being, so don’t try to pretend you’re trying to protect me.” I was proud my voice didn’t crack. I was dangerously close to breaking character.

“Ms. Steele,” she said, her tone as sharp as a razor’s edge. “We have just cause to believe you killed again on the Powell estate last night. Only this time, there was a scuffle and you were bruised in the process.”

“And why would I kill Luke’s attorney?”

Oh. Shit
.

An excited gleam filled her eye. “How do you know who was murdered? The name hasn’t been released to the public yet.”

I wasn’t going to sell out Amy. “I have my sources.”

“And how did you know Detective Bennett’s calls last night pertained to a murder at the Powell estate?”

If she thought she was catching me off guard, she was going to be sorely disappointed. I knew the moment the words left my mouth the night before that they would bite me in the ass.

Would Brady get in trouble for talking about the case in front of me? I didn’t give a shit. He’d sold me out to his partner. I wasn’t about to protect him. “While on his phone, Detective Bennett mentioned the unlikelihood of two murders on the same estate. He also mentioned Detective Holden. I knew he was the lead detective on the Max Goodwin case.”

“How did you know Neil Fulton?”

“I didn’t.”

“We’ll figure it out, so you might as well save us all a bunch of time and trouble and just confess right now.”

“If you were the least bit bright, you would be embarrassed with yourself right now, especially since it’s so obvious I’m innocent.”

Detective Martinez abruptly stood, her chair scooching across the floor. “Insulting a police detective investigating your involvement in two murders doesn’t seem like the smartest move.”

“Oh,” I said in mock surprise. “You picked up on the insult? Then there might be hope for my case yet.”

Martinez looked like she was about to lunge across the table for me, but Brady got to his feet and took a half-step in front of her. “Ms. Steele,” he said in a professional voice. “Thank you for taking your time to come to the station. You’re free to go.”

I picked up my purse and headed for the door, which Brady had opened. He was standing beside it, looking down at me with a guilty look in his eyes, but I ignored him as I marched out of the office, not stopping until I was in the parking garage. My hands were shaking as I tried to dig the keys out of the bottom of my purse.

“Maggie,” Brady called out, and my search became more frantic.

I found them underneath my laptop and pressed the unlock button, the chirp echoing throughout the garage.

“Maggie.
Wait
.”

I had just opened the door when he reached me, but he gently pushed it closed.

“Will you please let me explain?”

You are cold as ice, Magnolia. You are untouchable
. I almost believed it.

I lifted my gaze to meet his darkened brown eyes. “I really don’t need a lesson on the sordid ways the police investigate suspects,
Detective
Bennett.” My eyes narrowed. “How they prey on a young woman’s distress to trick her into . . . what?” I gave a slight shake. “What were you hoping I’d confess to? Max Goodwin’s murder?”

His eyes pleaded with me. “No. It wasn’t like that. I swear.”

“
Really
? I’m supposed to believe
that? Last night you said you’d never lie to me or try to trick me, but look where I just came from—an interrogation in which your partner attacked me with information you gained after you told me you were simple Brady Bennett—” I held my hands out at my sides, “—just a guy wanting to get to know a girl. You pretended you had no idea who I was, but you knew all along.”

“Maggie. I
didn’t
know.”

I poked my finger into his chest. “Don’t you
dare
call me Maggie,” I spat out through gritted teeth. “Don’t you dare pretend to be my friend.” My voice cracked.

“I’d been on vacation all week. Yesterday was my first day back—two days early because of the Goodwin murder. I had no idea who you were when I suggested we go for a walk.” He released a groan of frustration. “Believe it or not, I only told Martinez so I could protect you. She’s my partner, and she knows you came into the station and that I left with you. It would have looked worse for you if I
didn’t
tell her what happened.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“So the two of you took what I’d told you and then figured out how to pin this new murder on me.” I tried to open the door, but he stood in the way. My chest tightened. “Oh, my God. Are you
arresting
me?”

“No!” he shouted, then lowered his voice and said, “Did your brother really give you those bruises?”

“I’m giving you three seconds to get the hell away from my car and let me go, or I’m going back inside to file harassment charges against you.”

“Maggie—”

I narrowed my eyes. “One.”