“Sweetie.” I rushed forward, my only thought to grasp her collar and snap on the leash that I wore around my waist.
I was upon her before I even looked at the blue object, which registered instantly as the size and shape of a human body.
Sweetie waited for me to get close enough to see that it was a woman. From the position of her body, I knew she was dead. Bones didn’t grow at those angles. Sweetie nuzzled the dead woman softly with her nose and howled again.
“Stop that,” I told her as I hooked the lead. The dog was creeping me out, howling as if she were in a ghost story.
I walked around the body, taking in the platinum blond hair, the manicured hands, adorned with expensive rings that seemed to clutch the dirt. I was no expert, but I’d be willing to bet the woman had been alive when she fell. I looked up the cliff face and saw where she must have slipped. Along with the blue athletic clothes, she wore hiking boots.
Sweetie had come home the night before-the night of the fire-with a piece of blue material in her mouth. I noticed that the dead woman’s pants leg was torn, a piece of material missing. The poor woman had been lying out in the canyon with flames raging a short distance away.
“We have to call the police,” I told Sweetie.
Sweetie had other ideas. She tugged the leash from my hand and went straight back to the body. She nudged the dead woman again with her nose. A draft of wind caught the woman’s blond hair and shifted it.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered. I recognized the woman. It was Suzy Dutton, the actress.
CHAPTER FIVE
“And you say you didn’t know Miss Dutton?” Sheriff King asked me for the fiftieth time.
“Only as an actress.” I gave the same answer I’d given fifty times before. In truth, the good sheriff was working on my last nerve. I’d called him to report the body, led him and some deputies to the place where I’d found her, and I’d been in his “custody” for the last few hours with only his aggressive behavior for my good citizen’s reward. My butt was numbed by the hard chair in the sheriff’s office, and I was worried about where they’d taken Sweetie Pie.
“There aren’t any other houses near yours.” Grady King spoke as if I’d personally destroyed a subdivision somewhere.
“Where’s my dog?” I asked. King had finally allowed me to call Graf, and he and Federico were on the way. If I could keep from losing my temper until they arrived, things would get better.
“What reason would Suzy Dutton have for being in Lettohatchie Canyon?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Sheriff, I don’t know much about the canyon or the road that leads to the house or the lifestyle of movie stars. I just got into town.” My words were a lie. I suspected Suzy was lurking around the canyon to spy on me because of the role of Matty that was mine instead of hers. But to tell King this would guarantee that I’d be a suspect in her death. I’d just played that role in Zinnia, and I had no desire for a repeat performance. I’d keep my lips zipped.
“Were you and Miss Dutton in competition for the same role?”
The question brought me up short. Grady King had some inside source into the movie business. “Not to my knowledge,” I said. “Federico Marquez offered me the role after I took a screen test. I never heard it was offered to anyone else.” That was all truthful. I had simply omitted the conversation I overheard between Suzy and Federico.
“When was the last time you spoke with Miss Dutton?”
“I met her recently at Michael Mainheim’s house at a party. We passed in a hallway. That’s the only time I’ve ever crossed paths with her.”
“I hear that Miss Dutton was distraught because the movie role you’re playing had been promised to her.”
“I’ve already told you, I don’t know anything about that.”
“Miss Delaney, I shouldn’t have to point out that you were charged with the murder of another rival in Zinnia not two months ago. This appears to be a pattern. Kill off the competition.”
Anger made me clench my fists, an action that King immediately noticed. My sudden fury wasn’t directed at him, but I wanted to throttle Coleman Peters. His false accusation of me would haunt me the rest of my days. “The charges were dropped. Renata Trovaioli committed suicide. She wasn’t murdered by anyone, most certainly not by me.”
“And you got the role she was playing, which resulted in your most recent film success.” He sat back in his chair, his hands steepled in front of him.
“I got this role because I did a screen test and it was good.” I shifted in the hard-bottomed chair, checking my watch. What was keeping Graf and Federico? “Have you found evidence that shows foul play in Miss Dutton’s death?”
“I’m asking the questions here, not you.”
“Fine, but that’s a pertinent question, don’t you think? As far as I could tell, it looked like Suzy Dutton slipped from the cliff. Maybe it’s a simple accident.”
“Or maybe not. Would Miss Dutton have any reason to want to burn you or Mr. Milieu to death?”
“That’s ridiculous. That’s a big stretch, Sheriff King, even for you. Have you found evidence that connects her to the fire?” I sat forward.
“We haven’t finished the forensics yet, but we will find something, I promise you. We have state-of-the-art equipment, something you probably aren’t used to in Podunk, Mississippi.”
“No, Sheriff, in Zinnia, we rely on brains, not technology. Maybe you could hire someone with some smarts before you end up with egg all over your face.” My temper overrode my good sense, but instead of getting angry, King smiled.
“I don’t need to tell you that the media is all over this, Miss Delaney.”
“That’s not my problem.”
He sat forward suddenly. “But I could make it your problem with very little effort.”
“Are you threatening me?” I asked sweetly. “Let me point out that you should have found the body when you were investigating the fire. If it weren’t for me and my dog, Suzy Dutton might have remained out there for a long, long time.” I’d scored a point, but it was going to cost me. I could see it in the glitter of his pale eyes.
“You had a message written on the mirror in your house-”
“Bobby Joe Taylor’s house,” I reminded him.
“Telling you to go home. That sounds a bit personal to me.”
“I have no way of knowing if the message was directed at me. I told you that.”
There was a tap on the door and it opened to reveal Graf and Federico. The director looked slightly gray. The news of Suzy’s death must have hit him hard. They’d been a couple for nearly four years before they’d split up.
“Is it true?” he asked. “Suzy is really dead?”
“She is. Her neck was broken in a fall.” Sheriff King delivered the news without any attempt to soften it.
“This is terrible. What was she doing in that canyon?” Federico looked at each of us as if he hoped one of us could explain her death in a way that made sense.
“That’s what I intend to find out.” Sheriff King stood up. “You can go for now, Miss Delaney, but don’t leave the county.”
“Are you charging her?” Graf stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder. “This is absurd.”
Federico cleared his throat. “She must go, Sheriff. We’re set to begin shooting day after tomorrow in Petaluma, Costa Rica.”
Sheriff King’s eyes narrowed. “Very convenient.”
“The schedule was set months ago. The camera crews and set designers left this morning. Miss Delaney must go. Without her the filming will be halted. Each day of delay will cost thousands of dollars.” His shrug was eloquent. “If you have no real evidence against Miss Delaney, you must allow her to work. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to sue the county for any losses and damages to my film.”
King’s smile widened, and I was reminded of a barracuda. “You movie people think you’re above the law.”