Chapter 11
“I don’t know what I can tell you about Mr. Chayce that you haven’t already learned,” Evelyn Pierce said.
Griffin had gathered the precinct to brief them on Bel’s suspicions before questioning the producers yet again. He didn’t normally share her theories without concrete evidence, but with victims this prolific, her boss had no intention of letting this case turn into a serial killing. One more body, and the murders of Aesop’s Files crew members transformed from disturbing crimes to the work of a sadistic serial killer. Humanity’s obsession with true crime would spread news of these homicides like wildfire, and if discussing half-baked speculations about disgruntled ex-cons lit a fire in the department to find Chayce, he’d share every theory Bel dreamed up. Especially because she had a sixth sense about her when it came to death, and if she believed three more had to die before their killer left Bajka in his wake, he promised to hunt down her every lead, no matter how absurd.
After the briefing, Bel and Griffin had cornered the producers with the hope they’d have more information on Orion Chayce than Ellery Roja did, but Miss Pierce’s tone told Bel all she needed to know. Nothing productive would come from this conversation… again.
“He was overseeing the props on set that day, and he wasn’t paying attention,” Evelyn said. “His carelessness resulted in another crew member’s death, and the police ruled the accident a byproduct of his negligence. He was charged with involuntary manslaughter and sentenced to a few years in prison. It’s a fairly straightforward if not unfortunate story.”
“Were you aware Mr. Chayce was out on parole?” Bel asked, watching both producers for their response.
“Yes, we’d heard,” Alistair Rot said.
“Did you know he’d broken parole?” Bel asked. “He’s missing.”
“No.” An odd flicker disrupted Evelyn’s expression. “We hadn’t heard.”
And there it was.
“We believe he might be in town,” Bel pushed, secretly smug that both Pierce and Rot reacted exactly how she’d hoped.
“If he was, I’m sure your people would’ve already found him,” Alistair Rot said. “I doubt he’s here.”
“Of course, it could just be a rumor,” Bel continued. “Or he could be stalking the show. It would be best to shut down production until we find him.”
“That’s out of the question,” Alistair said. “And if our former employee is in town, it’s your job to arrest him for breaking parole. He’s no longer our responsibility.”
“And you’re sure nothing happened that day that would drive Mr. Chayce to seek revenge?”
“We’ve told you all we can,” Evelyn stood, signaling Bel had struck more than one nerve. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we need to get back to work. If you have any further questions, please direct them to our assistants.”
“You saw that, right?” Bel asked when the door to the producers’ trailer shut behind them.
“There’s something about that day they don’t want anyone figuring out,” Griffin said.
“I doubt Orion Chayce caused that accident,” Bel said. “I think something else happened. Something bad, and he’s who they chose to take the fall.”
“That would explain why he’s killing crew members… if he’s the murderer,” Griffin said. “But it still doesn’t make sense why Gwen Rossa was his first victim. How is a writer connected to a prop malfunction? And Ellery Roja? She was the one who alerted us to him.”
“He’s going after anyone from the show he can gain access to?” Bel said. “Or Roja warned us in the hopes we would catch him before he came for her? Or the accident was far more involved than we realize, and the entire crew is guilty? Take your pick.”
“I realize we’re hung up on the idea that Chayce is the guilty party, but I don’t want this consuming us. We’ll miss something,” Griffin said. “I’ll head back to the station and dig into Chayce’s life and known associates. He’s our best suspect, but I don’t need to tell you how focusing on the obvious often turns investigations into cold cases.”
“I know. I won’t miss anything.”
“You rarely do.”
“It just frustrates me that two women died horribly, yet they refuse to so much as pause filming. Can’t we force the issue?” she asked.
“If the murders took place on set, yes,” he said. “But they were killed on the Reale Estate. It has nothing to do with the show’s production, and the producers argue that what their employees do overnight when not at work is their own business. They aren’t responsible for the crew’s personal time or Stone’s private property. We have no cause to shut filming down because it’s not the problem. If anything, Stone is the one in trouble since both deaths occurred on his land.”
Bel raised her eyebrows at her boss.
“Don’t worry, I don’t consider him a suspect… yet. The studio might go after him, but somehow, I doubt that would end well for them. What concerns me is that we found both women on his property. Was that on purpose or by accident? Rossa was killed close to a filming location, but Roja wasn’t.”
“She was attacked closer to the trails Ewan and morning exercisers frequent, though,” Bel said. “She was bound to be discovered quickly.”
“So, are we looking for someone familiar with Bajka?” Griffin asked.
“Another reason we shouldn’t solely focus on Chayce.”
“It would stop us from asking these questions… but why would a Bajka resident be hunting these women?”
“It might not be someone who lives here,” Bel said. “Shows have location scouts. It’s how they found our town. Maybe they wrote up a detailed report along with photos when pitching Bajka to the director and producers, and the killer is using that data.”
“And we’ve circled back to Chayce,” Griffin said. “As a former crew member, he could’ve gotten his hands on that information.”
“Maybe,” Bel said as The Espresso Shot came into view. “I’m going to stop for coffee and then drive to the bed-and-breakfast. Hopefully, someone saw Roja—or Rossa—leave the nights of their murders.”
“Sounds good.” Griffin angled toward where he’d parked his truck. Bajka’s largest hotel was located off the highway, but the cast and crew had rented out the entire bed-and-breakfast so fans couldn’t search the halls and harass the actors’ accommodations in the middle of the night. The hotel hosted the meet-and-greets, and the attendees were staying in the surrounding motels and rooms for rent, but the bed-and-breakfast was smack dab in the center of town. Someone had to have seen something.
Bel pulled out her phone as she waited in the almost too-long line for her coffee and asked Olivia to meet her. She also asked if her partner wanted a drink, but Olivia ignored the question, only responding to confirm she’d be there in fifteen minutes.
“Detective,” David’s voice interrupted her self-pity, and she looked up to find The Espresso Shot’s owner carrying a large to-go cup. “Here.” He handed it to her, and she instantly smelled the vanilla. “You shouldn’t have to wait in line.”
“You didn’t have to, but thanks,” Bel said. “What do I owe you?”
“On the house.”
“I can’t just take your coffee,” she protested.
“Leave a big tip next time.” He leaned closer so he could lower his voice. “Officer Rollo mentioned you found another body. I don’t want to waste your time by making you stand in line.” He nodded to the corner where Rollo and Violet were chatting… or flirting, depending on how well you knew them, and Bel knew Violet pretty well.
“Thanks, David,” Bel said.
“No problem. Besides, it’s been hectic. Beau Draven came in earlier, and a fight almost broke out. Thankfully, Officer Rollo was close by, so he stopped in for some crowd control.”
“Just what we need with two bodies in the morgue.” Bel shook her head. “Being spread thin because fans feel the urge to fight over an actor.”
“Hence the coffee to stop you from waiting in line.” David patted her back.
“I appreciate it. I’ll pay extra next time.” She left the line and crossed the room to where Violet and the deputy stood, and she didn’t miss the way her pretty friend turned bright red when she realized she’d been caught flirting.
“Hey.” Bel pretended not to notice for her dignity’s sake. “David told me there was a fight.”
“Kind of,” Rollo said. “For him, it probably felt like a fight, but it was mostly just loud.”
“So, no one got hurt?”
“No, thankfully.”
“Good,” Bel said. “We don’t need another crime happening here.”
“It’s why I rushed over when I heard Mr. Draven was involved.”
“Every life is important, but if something happens to the stars, it would ruin Bajka’s reputation,” Bel said. “Thanks for stopping by so quickly. And I just wanted to say hi. Violet, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“Because you haven’t.” Violet hugged her. “You died, then you were with your family, and now this madness. We need to hang out because I still haven’t recovered from that news report.”
“News report?” Bel asked.
“The one that reported on your accident and death.” Violet shuddered, and Bel didn’t miss the way Rollo reached out to comfort her.
“I haven’t watched it,” she said. “I don’t want to.”
“You don’t,” Violet agreed.
“Eamon saw it though,” she said, and Violet’s expression fell.
“I know. He picked up Cerberus from me. I’ve never seen someone behave the way he did. It scared me. I knew you were dating, but I didn’t realize how much that man loved you.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
“It is?” Violet lit up.
“It is.” Bel hugged her friend goodbye. “We’ll hang out soon, but I have to go. I need to stop by the bed-and-breakfast to ask some questions.”
“Okay.” Violet refused to release her. “I’m so freaked out that women are being murdered in our town. I won’t survive you dying again. Are you okay to be doing this?”
“Yeah…” she trailed off because sometimes she was, but then her body would grow cold.
“Want me to head over with you?” Rollo asked.
“Thanks, but Olivia’s meeting me.” Bel smiled at the handsome officer. It was kind that he offered, but asking some questions didn’t require three cops. Besides, Olivia’s matchmaking seemed to be paying off. She hated interrupting what might be a budding romance.
“Okay, well, if you need me,” Rollo said.
“I know where to find you.” She winked as she squeezed Violet’s hand one last time before leaving the coffee shop.
“Have you or your staff seen this man?” Bel slid her phone across the front desk so the owner of Bajka Bed-and-Breakfast could view Orion Chayce’s mug shot.
“I can’t say I have,” the woman responded. She was a silver-haired grandmother who looked perfectly at home inside the adorable inn, and Bel felt odd asking her about her guests’ murders. The bed-and-breakfast seemed too cozy with its cheery fireplace, grand dining room, and vintage bar for such topics.
“Do you mind if I take a photo?” the woman asked, pulling out her own phone. “I don’t think he’s been here, but perhaps housekeeping or the kitchen staff saw him. I can ask around.”
“Go for it.” Bel withdrew her hands so she could get a clear picture of the mugshot. She’d met Olivia outside the inn a few minutes ago, but her partner suggested they split up to cover more ground. She volunteered to visit both the hotel and the motel by the highway’s exit to inquire about Orion Chayce while Bel dealt with the bed-and-breakfast. She claimed it was to save time, but Bel saw through her attempt at efficiency. She didn’t want to be around her, and Bel almost cried watching her drive off. After everything she’d been through, she needed her friend, but Olivia wanted nothing to do with her.
“Okay, here you go.” The inn’s owner slid Bel’s phone back to her. “I’ll ask around, but don’t get your hopes up. I grew up in this bed-and-breakfast, and I live in the basement apartment. Nothing happens here without me knowing, so I doubt this man has stepped through my doors. But I’ll still ask. Who knows, perhaps he stopped by when I was out.”
“I appreciate it. And as for these women.” She showed the innkeeper the photos of Gwen Rossa and Ellery Roja. “They were staying here.”
“Yes, I recognize them. Those poor girls. It’s terrifying what happened to them.”
“It is,” Bel agreed. “Do you recall seeing those two involved in anything unusual? Did someone come to meet them, or did they get into fights with anyone? Did they behave oddly at any point?”
“Can’t say that they did,” the woman said. “Everyone staying here is too busy for anything besides work. The studio booked my entire bed-and-breakfast for security purposes, so we’ve been working hard to keep the fans out of the inn. It’s an exciting contract.” She grinned. “Although I would prefer it didn’t include murdered guests.”
“We all would,” Bel said. “So, nothing strange happened to them?”
“Nothing,” the woman confirmed.
“When was the last time you saw these women?”
“This one.” The innkeeper swiped through Bel’s phone to find the first victim’s photo.
“Gwen Rossa,” Bel said. “She was the show’s head writer.”
“Yes, her. I don’t remember seeing her return to the inn the night before she died, but I figured it was only a matter of time before the police stopped by. I have the security footage ready. It’s a simple in-house system, so you can look now if you’d like.”
“Yes, please,” Bel said.
“I’ll show you in my office.” The woman led her into a cozy back room where monitors lined one wall. Live feeds played across the screens, and a quick survey told Bel they covered the main desk, lobby, entrances and exits, and parking lot.
“That second woman you showed me,” the owner continued.
“Ellery Roja, the costume designer.”
“Yes, she returned last night and went straight to her room.”
“What time was that?”
“Hmmm, let me rewind…” The woman fell silent as she scrolled through the footage, and Bel was relieved that she was remarkably tech-savvy for her age.
“Wait, there.” Bel pointed to the rewinding footage.
“Oh, good catch.” She paused the recording. “You got those young eyes.”
“More like I spend a lot of time watching rewinding surveillance.”
“True… and those young blue eyes. Your boyfriend must love them… you do have a boyfriend, don’t you?”
“I do.” Bel smiled. Women in this town loved to inquire about her love life.
“I thought so. A pretty girl like you. Is he anyone I know?”
“The man who bought the Reale Estate.”
“A rich man. Good for you.” The woman beamed at her. “Can’t say I’ve seen him, though. I heard he’s a recluse…. And wasn’t he a murder suspect at one point? Oh dear, here I go running my mouth. I guess if a detective is dating him, he isn’t a murder suspect.”
“Oh, he was,” Bel laughed. “But he was cleared… obviously.”
“Obviously. One more question, and I’ll stop being nosy. Is he handsome?”
“Very.”
“More handsome than that dreamy Beau Draven. You can be honest, it’s just us girls.”
“Yes, he is. Taller too. By a lot.”
“Oooo, I could forgive a man’s reclusiveness if he was tall and handsome.”
“It does work in his favor.”
“You love him,” the woman said. “I see it on your face. You light up talking about him… okay, I’ll stop grilling you about your love life. Sorry, it’s a side effect of running this inn. Everyone loves to chat with granny about their lives, and it’s turned me into a busybody.”
“It’s fine,” Bel said, remembering Vera when she first moved to Bajka. Alcina, the witch murdering the townsfolk, had masqueraded as her elderly neighbor, but before Bel knew the truth, she’d enjoyed the grandmotherly affection. “I don’t mind.”
“Of course you don’t. No one ever minds talking about beautiful men.” The innkeeper turned back to the monitors. “Okay, Miss Roja returned from the shoot last night at 9:38 p.m. She’d been gone for over twelve hours.”
“What floor was she staying on?” Bel asked.
“The third.”
“So she couldn’t have jumped out the window to avoid being seen?”
“Not unless she wanted a broken ankle. It’s a straight drop.”
“Can you fast-forward the footage? She ended up in the woods, so she must’ve left the inn at some point.”
“Sure, let me know if you spot her…is that her? Oh, no… um… wait. There. That’s her, right?” The innkeeper pointed to a woman exiting the front door at 11:54 p.m. The figure was bundled up, but the build looked familiar.
“Do you ever see her face?”
“Not with the indoor cameras. She had her hood up, and she’s on the phone.”
“What about the parking lot’s view?”
The innkeeper switched the footage, and they watched the woman pause to speak to the squad car stationed outside and then disappear down the street. She never looked at the camera, but as she vacated the property, she twisted sideways long enough for Bel to confirm that it was indeed Miss Roja leaving alone in the middle of the night.
“I can’t tell if that’s her,” the innkeeper said.
“It’s her… do you mind?” Bel gestured for the controls, and the woman relinquished them. “There. You can see her profile for a few seconds. That’s her. She leaves just before midnight, and based on her time of death, I don’t think she ever comes back.” Bel fast-forwarded to confirm, but her guess was right. Ellery Roja never returned.
“Oh, I feel awful,” the innkeeper whispered. “This is the last time she was alive, and I just let her walk out of my inn.”
“This isn’t on you,” Bel said. “I wonder why she left so late, though?” She rewound the tape. “She doesn’t look nervous or under duress. And she waves at the officer before chatting with him… who’s in that squad car?” She paused the video and leaned closer to the monitor, Rollo’s handsome features barely visible through the darkness. “Right. I think that’s all I need from last night. Can I get a copy?”
“Sure. I’ll email it to you.”
“Awesome. Here’s my contact information.” Bel slid her card across the desk. “Before I go, can you rewind to the night Rossa died?” She gave her the date.
“Sure.” The woman obliged her, but Gwen Rossa never returned to the bed-and-breakfast before her death, making it significantly harder to trace the writer’s final hours. At least they could track most of Roja’s movements. She’d been alone in her room until something forced her to leave. She’d been on the phone when she departed the inn, so maybe the killer lured her out with either friendship or a threat.
“Of course.” The innkeeper gestured for her to follow, and they climbed the carpeted stairs together. Bel examined Roja’s room before moving on to Rossa’s, but there was little to see besides luggage and script pages. The victim’s computers had already been turned over to the police by their assistants, so the dirty undergarments and half-used toothpaste tubed held no earth-shattering secrets.
“Thank you so much for your help,” Bel said when the women returned to the first floor.
“Of course. I’ll let you know if any of my staff saw that man.”
“Thank you. Have a good one.” Bel waved over her shoulder, holding the front door open as Taron Monroe blew into the lobby. The show’s main actress was somehow even prettier up close, but it wasn’t her beauty that struck Bel. It was her scowl. She glared at her as they passed, and Bel reeled back to avoid the disdain. What had she done to deserve such disgust?
She watched Miss Monroe disappear up the stairs with her assistant, and shaking off the encounter, she dialed her boss. “Sheriff, can you do me a favor and request a warrant for the victims' phone records?” she asked when he picked up. “Ellery Roja left the bed-and-breakfast last night a few minutes before midnight, and she was on the phone. What if the killer called to lure her outside?”
“Sure,” he said. “Any luck finding Chayce? Gold called right before you. Neither the hotel nor the motel has a record of him staying with them. They’re sending over their security footage for us to review, though, just in case.”
“That sucks,” Bel said. “And no. No luck finding Chayce here.”
Griffin cursed. “All right, I’ll get you those phone records.”
“Thanks.” She hung up and dialed Officer Rollo.
“Detective?” he answered on the third ring.
“I have a question,” she said. “You were stationed outside Bajka Bed-and-Breakfast last night.”
“I was.”
“What did Ellery Roja say to you?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Last night, she left at 11:54 p.m., paused at your squad car, and then walked down the street.”
“Wait…” he trailed off. “That was the victim? That woman was so bundled up, I didn’t recognize her. I assumed it was someone’s assistant because she yelled something about chips at me.”
“Chips?”
“I think that’s what she said. She was on the phone, so I figured an actor had sent their assistant out for a midnight snack.”
“Chips…” Bel faced the street Roja had walked down before she disappeared from the camera’s view. “The twenty-four-hour mini-mart,” she said, understanding dawning on her. “It’s a short walking distance from the B and B, so she bundled up to buy snacks. She probably saw your squad car and figured she should explain herself.”
“I should’ve offered to drive her, but I wasn’t supposed to leave the parking lot. My shift ended at midnight, but I chatted with Yates when he relieved me for a bit. When I left, I didn’t see her walking back, but I admit, after working a double, I was just trying to stay awake to drive home. Was I the last person to see her alive?”
“Maybe. Unless she made it to the mini-mart.”
“Do you want me to stop by and check?”
“Thanks, but I’m already halfway there. At least we have a map of Roja’s movements before she died.”
“I feel bad didn’t recognize her.”
“Don’t be,” Bel said. “I only knew who she was because Griffin and I just interviewed her. We can’t follow everyone everywhere. We’re already stretched too thin.”
“You can say that again. Well, if you need my help, just call.”
“Will do. I’ll talk to you later.” She hung up and wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the cold as she jogged the rest of the way to the store. It was a quick walk, and the shop’s owner was in his office when she arrived. He confirmed that Ellery Roja had indeed stopped by, and like the bed-and-breakfast, the mart had an in-house security system. The owner played her midnight shopping spree for Bel, but it offered little insight into the designer’s last movements. A few minutes after she left Bajka’s Bed-and-Breakfast, Roja walked into the mini-mart, still on the phone. She didn’t seem under duress or upset as she grabbed an armful of chips, soda, and miscellaneous snacks, and then she hung up her call to pay with cash. She then left the building, having been there for all of six minutes, and vanished from the surveillance’s sight, not to be seen again until the following morning, naked and gutted on Eamon’s property.
“When the judge learned who the victims were, we received the warrants and records so fast that I almost suffered whiplash,” Griffin said when Bel arrived at the station. “We reviewed Rossa’s and Roja’s calls for their last few days. We also had both victim’s assistants confirm phone numbers, but we found nothing.”
“What do you mean?” Bel asked. She’d finally returned from the mini-mart to update her boss, and it seemed they both had much yet so little to share.
“No random numbers called or texted either victim. So, I think it’s safe to say, the killer didn’t use a phone call to lure them into the woods,” Griffin said. “The records confirmed Roja was on the phone at midnight, but it was business. Something about last-minute fabric requests. I don’t understand the technicalities, but we verified with the caller. They’re her supplier, so it wasn’t a threat. Seems she really left the bed-and-breakfast for snacks. I don’t know, could we be looking at crimes of opportunity? What if Rossa and Roja weren’t the targets? They were just the only crew members the killer found unattended?”
Bel cursed. “That’s possible. She had her phone with her at the mart. I saw it on the security footage, but all her belongings, cell included, were missing from the crime scene. The killer probably dumped them… or maybe he was stupid enough to keep it.”
“One can hope.”
“Can the phone company tell us where their phones last pinged the cell towers?”
“In town,” Griffin said. “Nowhere near the Reale Estate, though. The phone company believes both devices have been powered down.”
Bel cursed again. “I doubt the killer kept them then. If he knew to turn them off far away from his killing grounds, he knew not to keep evidence. He probably dumped them, and my guess is far from both the crime scenes and their last cell pings. Those locations would be too obvious.”
“I’ll still have deputies search the areas,” Griffin said. “The killer might be smart, but accidents happen.”
“And all we need is one.”
Gwen Rossa and Ellery Roja’s phones were still missing when Bel finally left the station for the night. She’d hoped the killer dumped the victims’ belongings either in a drain or a dumpster, giving them an idea where the women were taken, but it seemed their killer was not only smart enough to remove the batteries but also had the foresight to keep their phones far from the police’s reach. It wouldn’t surprise her if he’d destroyed the devices so they could never be traced back to him. Killers loved keeping souvenirs, but it’s also what got the guilty caught, and something warned her their guy wasn’t ready to be uncovered just yet.
A short drive later, Bel pulled onto her dark street and parked on the gravel before her cabin. Her single-room home sat on the outskirts of Bajka, her backyard the woods that eventually led to the Reale Estate. A few rental cabins lined the lonely road, making for a private existence, especially since the unit across the yard from her had stood empty ever since a witch murdered its owner. It was normally a peaceful neighborhood, and the dimly lit road never bothered her, but the minute Bel stepped out of her SUV, she felt it. She was being watched, and it wasn’t Eamon’s presence. She recognized the way his eyes caressed her skin. He’d stalked her from the darkness long enough for her to grow accustomed to the weight of his gaze, but this was a stranger’s presence.
Bel inched closer to the front door, her hand slipping to her holster. She silently undid the strap as she scanned the snowy yard, but before she could reach the stoop, a dark shape emerged from the street’s shadows and raced for her.