“I know exactly what you mean,” she said blithely. No, she didn’t.
“Fire away, detectives,” said Damien, straddling the mixing console.
“Oh, but I’m not a detective,” said Odelia.
“She’s a consultant, which amounts to the same thing,” Chase said.
Damien spread his arms. “Like I said, fire away. I’m an open book.”
“Is it true you and Mrs. Kenspeckle were facing some marital issues?”
She saw what Chase meant by not having to tread lightly. As a reporter this type of question would have been on the publicist’s list of taboo topics.
Damien nodded. “It’s not a great secret Shana and I were seeing a marriage counselor. It was on season seven, and again on season nine. And front and center in the new season. You a fan of the show, Detective?”
“Can’t say that I am,” Chase confessed.
“Too bad. There’s a lot you could pick up. As a cop, I mean. It’s all about the human condition and the different ways living in close proximity with other human beings can affect you as a person. A fascinating experiment.”
“I’m sure it is. So what about those marriage problems? We spoke to your sisters-in-law and they told us Shana was having an affair with Dion Dread?”
Damien’s lips tightened. “That scumbag. Bagging one Kenspeckle wasn’t enough for him, he had to bag two. But we were getting over that. She was finished with Dion, and we were working hard to resolve our issues.” He played with his wedding ring, an ornate gold band with a gigantic rock. “We were fighting for our marriage, and I can tell you that we were winning.”
“What about you, Mr. LeWood? Any affairs we should know about?”
There was a flash of anger in the singer’s eyes, but it quickly disappeared. “I can assure you there are no skeletons in my closet. I was devoted to my wife and my marriage. I’m a family man, and I was dying to start a family.”
“Can you think of anyone who would hurt your wife?” asked Odelia.
He shook his head. “Shana was the sweetest, loveliest person in the world. She was loved by everyone. I can’t think of anyone who’d hurt her.”
“She must have made some enemies over the years,” said Chase. “People she rubbed the wrong way. You don’t get to her level of success without stepping on a few toes along the way.”
The singer fixed Chase with an intent look. “There will always be haters, Detective, but we were keeping them far away from us. It’s important to keep negativity at bay. To focus on the positive. We shielded ourselves from all of that negative energy and didn’t allow it inside this bubble we’d created.” He gestured around himself. “We created our own reality, and anyone who tried to tear us down was placed firmly outside of the bubble. It’s a simple matter of choice. And we chose life and happiness. That’s all I can say about that.”
He had a lot more to say, but nothing that shed any light on the murder of his wife. When Damien offered to play his song again, so they ‘could look deeply into his soul, and find the purity within,’ they kindly declined.
The interview over, Odelia’s impression was that Damien LeWood was a nutcase. Still, he didn’t seem dangerous, and she couldn’t imagine him killing his wife. He might be a little weird, but he came across as a devoted husband.
As she and Chase descended the stairs, he said, “Oh, I got a text from the coroner. Turns out we were right. The killer did drug everyone in the house.”
“So both sisters, Dion, Damien…”
"And Shana. The film crew was fine."
She thought about this. It provided all the Kenspeckles with an alibi. Unless… “The killer could have drugged himself, then disposed of the chloroform in the morning.”
“Good thinking, Poole. You’re right. This doesn’t mean anything.”
They’d arrived on the ground floor, and decided to check Dion’s room, to see if he was holed up in there. He was next in line for an interview.
Very conveniently, all the rooms sported a hand-painted sign indicating whose room it was. The signs were all inspired by Disney movies. Shana and Damien were Cinderella and the Prince. Dion and Shayonne were Belle and the Beast from Beauty and the Beast, their faces nicely rendered by the artist.
“I wonder if they change these out every time someone rents this place,” said Odelia, as she let her fingers trail across the sign. It had been enameled.
“I hope they do. I wouldn’t want to sleep in a room with that on the door,” Chase grunted, pointing at the portrait of Dion Dread as the Beast.
An image of her and Chase’s faces superimposed over the portrait flashed before her eye. She’d be Belle, of course, and he’d be the Beast. Yum.
She made to knock, but Chase simply pushed open the door. “Another benefit of being a cop,” he said. “You can just barge in and nobody minds.”
Well, that remained to be seen.
“Hampton Cove PD,” he announced. “We would like to ask you a few questions, Mr. Dread.”
Dion Dread stood in the middle of the room, completely naked, droplets of water clinging to his body. It was obvious he’d just stepped out of the shower. He didn’t seem to mind being caught au naturel. “Oh, hi, detectives. Come on in. Excuse the state of undress. I’m a big fan of air-drying.”
Chase’s jaw tightened. It was obvious he wasn’t a big fan of Dion. “What can you tell us about your affair with Shana Kenspeckle, Mr. Dread?”
Dion languidly reached over, picked up a towel from the bed and draped it around his waist. He was built like an athlete, with sculpted muscles and great abs. He also had enough tattoos to keep a tattoo artist on a retainer.
“That was all ancient history, Detective. Shana had decided to end the affair and come clean to her husband and her sister, which she recently did.”
“And how did you feel about that?” asked Odelia.
Dion walked to the window and gazed out, looking thoughtful. “I wasn’t happy about it, I can tell you that. I liked Shana. She was very sweet and sexy. Her sudden conscience issues placed me in a very awkward position.”
“Did she confide in you before she came clean to her husband and sister?”
“No, she did not. One day we were an item, the next I was confronted by my wife and told she was getting a divorce. You can imagine how I felt.”
“I can imagine you were furious,” said Chase. “A divorce meant the end of your cushy life as a Kenspeckle.”
Dion turned and smiled. Backlit by the sun, he looked like a Greek god. Before becoming a reality star, he'd been a swimmer, winning multiple Olympic medals. "Look, I won't lie to you, Detective. I was extremely upset. On the other hand, the whole affair led Shayonne and me to do a lot of soul-searching. After the first shock had worn off, she agreed with me that our marriage the last couple of months had been a sham. Shayonne had been, shall we say, sexually unavailable to me for a long time, due to some personal issues she was facing." He shrugged. "Hey, I'm a guy. I have a guy's needs. When I couldn't satisfy those needs with my wife, I went looking elsewhere."
Yeah, this guy was a real prince, Odelia thought.
“And your wife was okay with that?” asked Chase gruffly.
“No, she wasn’t okay with it, but she understood. Coming out here was a blessing. We spent the last couple of nights taking long walks along the beach, and talked like we hadn’t talked in a very long time. I like to think that we rediscovered the spark that had been extinguished through disuse.”
“And how did Shana feel about you remaining a part of the family?”
“She was fine with it. Like I said, she was a very sweet person.”
“Wasn’t it uncomfortable for her? To see her former lover all the time?”
“Before we were lovers we were friends. So we went straight back to being friends. I loved Shana a lot. I would never harm her. Or kill her.”