Killing America's Sweetheart: A Natalie Miller Mystery (5 page)

“I better get going. Zack’s supposed to spend the night tonight,” she said with a grin on her face.

“Tell him I said hello,” I replied matching her grin with a smile. Two can play this game. She wasn’t the only one who had taken a ride on his magic stick.

Emma must not have gotten the rise out of me like she expected because she exited in a bit of a huff.

I watched and laughed feeling momentarily better about myself. The high didn’t last long as I began clock watching for the rest of my shift. Oh, it was going to drag tonight…

Around 11:30 p.m
. I saw the automatic doors open and in walked Simon Bellamy pushing a cart, alone. I must admit I was a bit shocked by his presence. I hadn’t expected to see him, let alone so soon after the murder. As far as I could recall, he had been shopping here since he moved to Treeville about a year ago. Our store wasn’t exactly high class, but I guess it was open later than the others and offered a bit of anonymity which I’m sure he appreciated, particularly during times like these. He gave me a soft smile and went about his shopping.

Within fifteen minutes he came up to the check stand with a cart full off various items including bread, lunch meat, veggies, fruit and eggs. I began ringing him up and noticed that I
felt extremely nervous. I think it’s because I could feel him staring at me and it was a bit unnerving. Simon has a very intense look and when I finally glanced up and met his eyes, I felt weak in the knees.

“
I saw you yesterday with that detective,” he said with his slight English accent.

“He’s a friend of mine,” I replied feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

“I had the pleasure of making his acquaintance for nearly four hours yesterday,” he said calmly with a hint of bitterness.

Damn. Simon was not a fan of Zack’s that was apparent.

“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. “About that and your girlfriend,” I said quietly.

“Thank you,” he said with a smile meeting my gaze. My heart nearly stopped. The man was breathtakingly beautiful. He had such amazing full lips, oh the things
a mouth like that could do to a woman. I did my best to keep my thoughts G-rated, especially since the guy had just lost his girlfriend. How could I be so shallow? Well, it was kind of easy when you looked at him. The man was walking sex.

He finished paying and was about to grab his groceries, when he turned to
me and said, “I heard that you’re psychic.”

I was about to hand him his receipt when my mouth fell open.

“Ah, who did you hear that from?”

“The other
detective, Fatty mentioned it to your boyfriend when they were driving me to the station. He said something about you helping out with other cases?”

“I’ve given a few suggestions in the past, about minor
cases, no big deal,” I replied handing him his receipt. “And he’s not my boyfriend.”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“Do you have any suggestions for this one?” he asked taking it from my hand.

“I know you didn’t do it,” I said with certainty.

He smiled looking a bit relieved and asked, “Do you hire out your services?”

Hire out my services? As in have someone pay me money to give them my feelings on a situation? This was a first.

“I’ve never done that before,” I said feeling awkward.

“Would you consider it? I’ll pay you whatever y
ou want, I just need to find out who killed Hannah.”

Without really thinking, I replied, “Okay.”

“Great. Come by tomorrow morning and we’ll work out the details,” he said as he grabbed his groceries and exited.

I stood there nodding as he walked away. What had I just done? Had I agreed to assist him in finding a killer? Was I out of my mind? Probably.

Debbie came out from the office and I was sure she had witnessed the exchange.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“He wants me to help him find Hannah’s killer,” I said.

Debbie looked at me with her eyes wide.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked with concern.

I didn’t reply, as I already knew the answer to that. Gilles was yelling loudly in my head that I was an idiot for agreeing. My spirit guide was a bit pissed at me for dragging myself into possible danger. Oh, well. How bad could it be?

Chapter Nine

             
After putting in a call to Karen to give her an update on the situation, I arrived at Simon’s a little past ten. I decided it was a good solid morning hour, since nine felt too early and eleven too late. Thankfully Simon answered the door in quick fashion and ushered me into his massive country home. Doing a quick inspection I was pleased to see that his place was very warm and inviting, with a nice broken in leather sofa, rustic coffee table and dark hard wood floors. Many photos lined his walls filled with captures of animals and nature scenes. I guess I had this idea in my head that since he was a Hollywood bigwig his house would be decked out in a cold modern fashion, flanked by all his awards displayed on the mantel. I was happy to have been proven wrong.

“Thanks for coming over. I was afraid you might have changed your mind,” he said motioning for me sit on the sofa.

“I’m still a little unsure about doing this. I really can’t promise anything will come from it,” I said a bit too nervously.

“
I’m just happy to have someone helping me out. You believe I’m innocent, right?”

“I do,” I replied. If the dream was real and correct, Hannah knew her killer, but she was not totally familiar with him. There was recognition in her eyes, but it took time for it to sink in. It was the only thing I was certain of, Simon did not murder Hannah.

He smiled and relief washed over him.

“So, where should we begin?” he asked.

I felt it was probably a good idea to start with Hannah belongings. Simon showed me to the stair case and up we went to the second floor, down the hall to a room just on the right. We walked in and I was surprised by what I saw. It was clearly a room only occupied by Hannah.

“Is this her room?” I asked a bit stunned.

He nodded and added, “The police have already been here and taken things, like her laptop and a few other items.”

It was pretty obvious someone had been here before me. There were things thrown about and clothes sticking out from drawers. Not too messy, but enough to know someone had done a
thorough search. I was still caught off guard by the fact that they shared separate rooms. Not that it was unheard of, but who wouldn’t want to share a bed with him? Hannah had to be out of her mind. Or maybe, just maybe their relationship was not what it appeared.

I started sifting through the large walk-in closet and discovered that I had a bit of wardrobe envy, but found little else. Same thing with the rest of the room, I lifted the mattress, felt under the desk, inside of drawers, shoe boxes, the jewelry case, inside the bathroom, under the sink, but I came up wit
h squat. Could there be anything else?

“Simon, what about your room? Would Hannah have anything in there?”
I asked coming out of the adjoining bathroom.

He looked at me and shook his head.

“We were not sleeping together. I know it appeared otherwise, but our relationship had pretty much run its course.”

“Then why was she still here?” I asked.

He took a deep breath, as if he was trying to form his answer carefully.

“She wouldn’t leave. I asked her a few times, but she just laughed as if she thought I was joking. Even when I told her to take a separate room, it was as if she thought it was just a temporary thing.
Despite all of that, I never wished anything ill happen to her,” he said with tears in his eyes.

“So, then what happened that night?”

He moved over to the bed and sat down. I took this as a queue too and pulled out the chair that accompanied the desk.

I raised my eyebrows at him to begin.

“Well, we went grocery shopping, you know that, and then we came home to find Bebe waiting on the door step. Hannah was really pissed and that led to a huge fight.”

“What time did you guys get home?” I asked.

“About twelve fifteen, maybe a few minutes earlier.”

“Why was Bebe here? I know you two are divorced and I thought it was not amicable. Were you surprised to see her as well?”

“No, I wasn’t surprised. I invited her to come.”

Now I was really confused. My face must have
given me away because he smiled softly and began, “Again not everything is what it appears. Bebe and I were never angry with each other. In fact I still love her, just not in the way you should love your wife.”

My mind was spinning, was Simon
some kind of gigolo? What the hell was he talking about?

“I was born in England, but found I was able to get more work here in the states. One of the things that started hampering my ability to take jobs was my citizenship status. It was always a pain in the arse
to get work permits and visas. After a while some of the companies started complaining that it was a red tape nightmare to get the clearance needed for me to work. And really who could blame them? They could easily get some homegrown American boy to play the same roles and without the additional headache of dealing with immigration.”

“Is this wher
e Bebe comes in?” I interrupted as I began started to understand the nature of their marriage.

“Yes. We were friends and I confided in her my problem and that’s when she sug
gested we get married so I would have legal status to stay here. It wasn’t an overnight thing either. We really had to sell it. She came with me to red carpet events, we made sure we were photographed around town and I supported her at her book signings. We knew we had to stay married for a few years to make it legit, and since we were both content with the situation, we remained married longer than we needed to.”

“You guys were married for nearly a decade, why so long?”

“We never felt the need to divorce. That is, not until Bebe found Logan.”

“Who’s Logan?” I asked.

“He’s Bebe’s boyfriend. She met him at a conference she was speaking at few years ago. She told me when she returned that she had met someone and we both knew it was more than time to end things.”

“Wait, so then why did the tabloids make it out to be so ugly? They said you cheated on her first with Hannah. That was just a lie?” I questioned.

“Shocking that the media might be wrong, isn’t it?” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “I simply asked Bebe here to try to encourage Hannah to leave. I thought that if she were to think that Bebe and I were getting back together, that it might persuade her. But, it didn’t. Hannah became livid and angry and we had a huge fight. Bebe went to bed down the hall to her own room, and I retreated to mine. The last I saw of Hannah, she was coming in here and slamming the door.”

I sat and mulled over the information I had been given. Was this all true? Could someone stay married to
a person they didn’t love for a green card? Yes, they could. I knew this was a very real possibility, as I had worked with people in social welfare who had done the same thing. Not at the same level as Simon and Bebe, but the end result was the same, so they could stay in the states and work.

“You don’t believe me do you?”
he asked quietly.

“Actually I do,” I replied smiling. “Let me tell you why I also believe you didn’t murder Hannah.”

That’s when I told him about the strange dream I had, and how I was certain that the killer was not someone who had been terribly close to her.

“What happened to the money then?” he asked.
“If there was a hundred thousand dollars in cash, where did it go and who was it intended for? The police never mentioned anything about a backpack with money.”

They were a
ll very good questions which I had been wondering too.

“Simon, do you remember Hannah taking out any large withdrawals?”
I asked.
“No, but I do know she banked at B of A.”

“That’s where we should go next,” I replied.

We walked into B of A a little past noon. Thankfully, since it was midweek, it was painfully slow. I spotted my former classmate Christina Mendoza who was now the branch manager of the bank.

“Natalie! It’s so good to see you,” Christina said warmly.

There are not too many people from high school that I liked, but Christina was one of the few exceptions.

“You just missed Mr. Ritter. Do you know he still advises on the year book?”

Christina had always been a little short and stocky, but she never seemed to take any of the criticism or name calling to heart back in school. To me she looked the same, as if she hadn’t aged. Same straight black hair cut in a bob, and beautiful inviting smile. We met in year book and stayed in touch over the years.

“I can’t believe he’s still alive. I thought he was dead,” I said.