“What are you doing?” she hisses as she glances to the file in my hand.
“Buck-buck-buck!” Cluck Norris flaps back and forth from one end of the room to the other. “Make a run for it, Lottie! She’s ready for another fresh kill. I can see it in her eyes. Oh, this is bad. This is terrible. You’re trapped! You can’t get away. She’ll slaughter you right here and now.”
“Gee, thanks,” I mutter.
“What is that?” Kit steps over, her brows knitting tightly.
“You know exactly what this is,” I say as she tries to reach for the file, but I pull it back.
“Did you find that on my desk?” She glances to the file and her mouth rounds out. “Death of Zack Ross? That’s my brother.”
I scoff over at her. “Yes, it’s your brother. The one you wanted to showcase and Candace refused.”
“How do you know that?” She shakes her head my way, looking genuinely puzzled.
I circle my way around the desk and she backs up toward the wall, leaving the exit wide open for me, and that fact alone emboldens me.
“You were trying to get Candace to do a special on your brother,” I pant the words out. “And when she refused, you accused her of pushing your brother off the boat that day all those years ago, didn’t you? You did this that day she was killed. That’s what you were doing in her office.”
Her head inches back and Cluck Norris is quick to sit on it as if he just found the comfiest nest.
A croaking sound comes from her. “Yes, but—”
I cut her off. “You asked her time and time again to do the special and she refused. That’s why you picked up one of her awards and bashed her over the head with it, isn’t it?”
“What?” she squawks so loud, so sharp it almost sounds as if Cluck Norris joined her in the effort. “Lottie, you’re badly mistaken. That simply didn’t happen. At least not with me killing her.”
“Then why did you change your shirt that day? You were wearing a white T-shirt when we got to the studio, but after the body was discovered you appeared in a blue one.”
“My shirt?” Her head bobs forward and Cluck Norris nearly topples right off the top. “Oh my goodness, you really do think I did this, don’t you?”
“Make me believe you didn’t.”
“I don’t know if I can. It seems I’m being expertly framed.” Her voice hikes a notch. “Look, I did go to Candace’s office that day and things got heated once again when she refused to do a feature on safe swimming. All I wanted was for her to do something, anything to honor my brother. He loved her, although I don’t know why. She was a pretty awful person. And yes, things got physical. But Woody stepped in and broke it up. He took me over to the staff lounge and took off.”
“And then?” I tip my ear her way even though I have a feeling I know exactly how this deadly story ends.
“And then I went into the lounge. Fern bumped right into me. She said she was in a hurry because, ironically, she was trying to track me down to go over her segment. Anyway, she spilled some of her coffee on my shirt. You would think because this is basically my uniform that I’d have ten or twelve of these T-shirts squirreled away in here, but I don’t. Thankfully, Fern had one and it was just my size. A blue one. And that’s what you saw me wearing that day after Candace was murdered by your mother.”
“My mother?” Now it’s me inching back. “Carlotta didn’t do this.”
“And you think I did?”
“Wait, did you say Fern just so happened to have the shirt to give to you?”
“Yes, she brings half her wardrobe with her when she comes in.”
“Kit, you mentioned before that Fern and Candace went to college together, that they had secrets. What kind of secrets do you think those were?”
“I don’t know. I heard them arguing about someone named Ben. It was that boyfriend of Candace’s that ended up having an accident.”
I nod. His name was Ben Jenson and that accident happened to be falling from the roof of a building. Noah told me all about it a week ago.
I open the file once again and look at the handwriting. Something about the shape of that letter A has me unnerved. And then it hits me.
“My apologies, Kit,” I say, backing out of the room with that file still in my hand. “I think I was wrong about you.”
“Darn right you were. But don’t worry, Lottie. I can’t blame you. Noah and Everett look as if they’re about to burn this place to the ground. This is a huge day for the three of you. We’ll laugh this all off after we wrap it up today. Give me the file, and I’ll take it to Noah since he’s the lead detective.”
“I’ll take it to Noah myself.” I rush out of the tiny office to do just that.
Not only am I going to hand Noah this file, I’m going to hand him the name of the killer, too.
Lottie
“Noah?” I call out as I head out of the corridor and my mind swirls as I try to remember where the makeup room is in this labyrinth of a building.
I glance to my right and I spot Fern Cranston heading out the large back door.
“Fern?” I shout without meaning to, but it seems I’m sleep-deprived and I’ve been on autopilot now for more than a few weeks. My feet lead me in that direction and Cluck Norris flies into my path.
“Lottie, wait!”
But I don’t wait. I speed right through him.
“Fern?” I call out again as I tuck that file behind my back.
The woman turns around with a cigarette clipped between her fingers in
