Read Framed for Murder Page 11


  Chapter 11

  I didn’t hear anything from Amy until the following night. I was putting a load of laundry into the dryer around nine thirty when the doorbell rang. Wendy padded down the hallway to meet me at the front of the house so that we could check out our visitor together. I turned on the outside light and opened the door to find a woman standing there wearing big, black sunglasses, a head scarf, and a trench coat.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, wondering who would be wearing sunglasses at night.

  “Anna, it’s me – Amy,” she giggled, whipping the glasses off.

  “Wow. I didn’t recognize you. What are you doing in that get-up? Come on in,” I said. “Can I take your coat?”

  “No thanks. I’m cold, and I’m not wearing much underneath.”

  I didn’t want to hear any more about that, so I didn’t respond as I led her into the living room. I indicated the couch and turned on a lamp while she sat down. She took off the head scarf and released her golden auburn hair.

  “I like your living room, Anna. It’s very soothing,” Amy said, getting comfortable. My decorating taste ran to a minimalist style with stream-lined furniture and very little clutter. A couple of large, pewter-framed pictures of poppies gave the room a splash of colour. “The grey and white on your walls is real pretty. I have a lot of chintzes and prints in my place because I like my house to feel cozy, but I like the cool tones in this room, too.”

  “Thanks.” Curiosity getting the better of me, I asked, “Amy, why are you dressed like a 1950’s movie star?”

  “I’m in disguise. I left my car at home and walked over so that no one would recognize it outside your house. I figure that we can’t be too careful with a murder investigation.”

  “I guess you’re right,” I said, sitting down on my white faux-leather recliner. “So, did you hear any gossip about Jack on the set?”

  “I sure did. I was talking to the make-up lady – her name is Patty – and she was very helpful. She said that Jack had been very attentive to the movie’s leading lady, Karen Quill. She said that Karen was bawling her eyes out in make-up the day after Jack died, and had to take a pill and go lie down in her trailer.”

  The name tweaked a dim memory. “Karen Quill – she’s a Canadian actress, right?”

  “I think so.”

  “What does she look like?”

  “She’s real pretty, about 5’3”, late twenties, blond hair with ash streaks. Her eyes are a gorgeous violet colour, but I think she wears coloured contacts.”

  The description solidified my memory. “Yes, I remember Karen. She and Jack did a play together in Ottawa about seven years ago. I had my suspicions about them even then.”

  “Wow, do you think she and Jack had a history of – you know?”

  “Yes I do. Did the make-up lady have anything else to say about Karen?”

  “Uh huh. She told me that Karen’s husband is one of our cameramen – Connie Primo.”

  “Connie?” I asked, confused. “Are they a lesbian couple?”

  “No, that’s ‘Connie,’ short for ‘Constantine.’ He’s Greek. Anyway, Connie and Karen have been married about four years, and he’s the jealous type. Seems to have a real temper, too. Patty said she’s heard Connie yelling at Karen in her trailer.”

  “Interesting,” I responded. “Did your make-up lady say Jack was seeing anyone else?”

  “She did mention a stuntwoman – Jessie Wick – but she said that Jack and Jessie were an item years ago on another movie he did in Longview. She didn’t think there was anything going on between them now.”

  I cringed. Jessie Wick – I hadn’t forgotten that name. Four years ago, Jack and I had separated because he was having an affair with Jessie. I had never met her and hadn’t wanted to know anything about her, at the time.

  “Are you okay, Anna? You look kind of pale all of a sudden,” Amy said.

  I looked at her and shrugged; that was water under the bridge. “I’m okay. Their affair happened while I was still with Jack, that’s all. It’s not anything I didn’t know about.”

  “I’m sorry,” Amy said, getting up to put an arm around my shoulders.

  “Don’t worry about it. You did really well getting that information about Jack. Did Patty mention anyone else?”

  “No, that’s it. Of course, you already know about Jack and me. So, what do you think?”

  I thought that Amy was pretty clueless to remind me about her and Jack, but out loud I said, “I think that Karen sounds like our best bet. Maybe we could go talk with Karen – find out what her relationship was like with Jack and if her husband knew about it.” Amy nodded. “So, where can we find Karen? Is she staying at the Creekside Motel and Spa?”

  “No, she and Connie rented a house on some acreage outside of Longview. I’m sorry, I don’t know the address.”

  “Never mind. Where does the movie crowd hang out these days when they’re not working?”

  “A lot of them like the Silver Spur. We could try going there tomorrow night. It’s always popular on Fridays.”

  The Silver Spur was a Longview bar decorated to look like an old-time Western saloon. The storefront had a facade of timber logs and a railed wooden porch complete with hitching post, no doubt for folks who rode their horses into town and wanted to drop by for a drink. The inside was furnished with rustic tables and chairs, a massive wooden chandelier with electric candles, and a bar with a brass foot rail. The back room had a couple of pool tables and some electronic gambling machines, a concession to modern times. May and Erna had taken me there for a drink a couple of years back. It wasn’t my cup of tea, but it was good for the tourist trade.

  “The Spur, eh? Why don’t I pick you up around eight thirty tomorrow night and we’ll drive over to the Spur to see if Karen is there. Are you free?” I asked.

  “Sure. I don’t make appointments for Friday nights. What do you think we should wear?”

  “Oh, I guess I’ll dust off my Stetson and chaps.”

  “Really? You have chaps?”

  “No, Amy, I’m just kidding. I’ll probably wear jeans and boots. We’ll want to blend in with the Friday night crowd.”

  “Okay, I’ll wear the same thing. This is so exciting. I’m really looking forward to it. We’ll be just like the women cops on that old TV show, Cagney and Lacey.”

  “You bet,” I said, smiling at her enthusiasm. I led her to the door and smiled again as she carefully looked from side to side before donning her sunglasses.

  “See you tomorrow,” she said over her shoulder before slipping out into the night.

  “Bye Amy,” I responded, shaking my head as I shut the door behind her.