Кэти Дэйли - The Magic Of Halloween Night

“And he never said who the call was from?” Cass asked.

“No. But if you pull his phone records, look for an incoming call around three o’clock on Thursday of last week. If I had to guess, both the call he took and the call he declined might end up being important.”

Cass nodded. “Thank you. I’ll do that.” He handed her a card. “If you think of anything else, let me know.”

“I will,” she said. “And I hope you find out who did this.”

Cass wanted to talk with both the producer and director about Harrison Roberts but needed to leave after that since he also needed to follow up on a few other leads. He suggested that since I was going to be at the shoot all day anyway, I should talk to other film crew and cast members in the hope that someone knew something about Robert’s movements and intentions on the day he was shot. He asked me to call him right away if I found anything relevant. Otherwise, he promised that we’d get together that evening. Paisley and Aunt Gracie would both be back after spending the weekend away, so I suggested that Cass have dinner with us. I needed to be home this evening, but I really wanted to have a chance to debrief with Cass as well.

The filming was delayed while Cass spoke to both Sloan Kingston and Dirk Coven, but he kept it short, and once he was done, the film crew and cast were called together, so the official announcement of Harrison Robert’s murder could be made. Everyone on site was asked to share any insight they might have about the murder with Deputy Wylander, and Cass’s office number was distributed amongst the crowd. A break was called until after lunch so the scriptwriters could meet with the producer and director to come up with a plan for Harrison’s character. In the end, they decided to kill him off early in the movie rather than recasting the part. I heard chatter about using scenes they’d already shot, combined with scenes using a double until his death could be slipped into the storyline.

The overall mood at the movie site was subdued once the announcement had been made, but as they say, the show must go on, which it did once filming resumed. Harrison’s death had put them behind schedule, and it seemed that most of the actors and actresses were more upset about the delay than they were about the death of a cast mate.

I was afraid they’d make the decision to work late since they’d gotten a late start, but when four o’clock rolled around, they called a wrap for the day. I headed out to my car, where a woman who I’d met on one other occasion stopped me.

“Jeri?” I asked, hoping I remembered the name of the woman who worked in food services correctly.

“Yes, that’s right. Jeri Landry. I wanted to say that I was sorry to hear about Harrison. I remember you saying at one point that the two of you had known each other before the shoot.”

“Yes. We both grew up in the area.”

She fidgeted a bit and then spoke. “I’m not sure if I should mention this to you, or if I should call Deputy Wylander directly, but I might know something about Harrison. It’s probably nothing, but I overheard a phone conversation he was having last week, and the more I think about it, the more certain I am that it could be important.”

“Okay. What do you remember hearing?”

“I was cleaning up after a large group had come in for lunch. Harrison got a call and walked away from the group. I wasn’t trying to snoop, but I was busy clearing dishes and wiping tables nearby.”

“Okay. Go on.”

“I don’t know who Harrison was talking to, but I do remember him saying the name Bill on multiple occasions. It didn’t mean anything to me at the time, but one of the cast members mentioned today that not only had Harrison been murdered, but a man named Bill had died just a week before.”

“Bill and Harrison were friends,” I said. “Do you remember what Harrison was saying about Bill?”

“Not everything, but he said something about Bill feeling bad about the way they’d treated someone. Harrison indicated to whomever he was talking to that he wondered if Bill had been stupid enough to open old wounds after all these years.” She took a breath and blew it out. “As I said, I wasn’t trying to listen, but I did hear the name Bill a few times during the conversation, including the comment about his having opened old wounds. Harrison indicated at one point in the discussion that perhaps this person Bill felt bad about hurting might have been the one who ran him off the road.”

“Okay, that might be important.” It sounded like Harrison thought that someone from Bill’s past might have run him off the road, which is the theory Cass and I were operating under as well at this point. “Anything else?”

She slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry. I really wasn’t listening all that closely. I didn’t think it was important at the time. Harrison wasn’t murdered yet, and I hadn’t heard about anyone named Bill dying.” She turned and looked behind her. “You might want to talk to Jennifer Ashford. She seems to have been tight with Harrison. And there’s a script girl named Connie who seems to know everything that’s going on with everyone on the set. I did notice Harrison chatting her up on more than one occasion.”

“Okay, thanks for the information. I’ll pass the information along to Deputy Wylander.”

“I hope Deputy Wylander can figure out who did this. Harrison was a good guy. I can’t believe someone shot him. Sure, he had a wild side at times, and he was a bit of a Casanova, which didn’t really appeal to me, but he certainly didn’t deserve to die.”

I thanked Jeri again and then headed toward my car. The drive home was uneventful. I was happy to see Paisley waiting on the front porch for me. When I pulled up, she ran out to the car and gave me a hug.

“I missed you this weekend,” she said.

I hugged her back. “I missed you too. Did you have fun with Anna?”

“So much fun. Her mom helped us make Halloween decorations. I made some for the house, and some for your bedroom too.” She grabbed my hand. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

“Okay,” I said, letting her drag me inside. Based on the sheer number and variety of homemade decorations Paisley had made, it appeared that Anna’s mother was a regular Martha Stewart. “Wow,” I said, picking up a witch that you could hang from a hook. “Everything is so great. You must have been busy.”

“So busy.” She grinned. “We had a lot of fun. Aunt Gracie said that we’re all going to go to the pumpkin farm and get pumpkins to carve as a family Friday, and I’m looking forward to that so much.”

She hugged me again. A hard, long hug that seemed to hint at an underlying desperation. I hugged her back with equal fervor. I knew that it was important for Paisley to regain her sense of security. I think it helped a lot that Gracie and I had promised to pursue guardianship should something happen to her grandmother, but I suspected that beneath the wide smile was a tiny trickle of fear that maybe things wouldn’t work out as she hoped, and she’d end up alone and without a family. I remember feeling that way when my parents died, and Gracie had been a blood relation. I supposed that given the fact that neither Gracie nor I were related to Paisley, the potential existed for complications to arise at some point in the future. But I wasn’t going to think about that. Instead, I was going to focus on the family that we’d created, and the upcoming holiday we all planned to share.

Gracie was in the kitchen, making dinner. I greeted her when I was finally able to make it that far. She informed me that Tom was at his cabin cleaning up and that she planned to serve the meal at six or whenever Cass arrived. I’d called her earlier and told her I’d invited Cass to dinner and that he’d thought six would work out just fine.