The Stardust Readers Retreat #6
Ruiz waited for Starla to lower herself into a chair before sitting across from her. “Ms. Fontaine, how are you feeling?”
Starla’s lips moved into a semblance of a smile. “I’ve been on stage since I was sixteen, how I’m feeling is hardly relevant.”
Ruiz jotted down something in her notebook. Starla’s fingers tightened around her clutch as the detective finished writing.
“Where were you when Victor LaRue died?” Ruiz asked.
Starla let out a breath. “I was in the ballroom for most of the night. I stepped out to powder my nose and then again to get some air.”
Ruiz was quiet for a beat. “Alone?”
“Yes.” Starla answered without hesitation.
Eric frowned. Jo noticed.
Ruiz flipped through her notebook. “Multiple people saw you arguing with Victor this weekend. What were you arguing about?”
Starla’s eyes flashed. “Arguing implies I was allowed to respond. Victor yelled. I stood silent.”
“What was he yelling about?” Ruiz asked.
Starla hesitated. Silence filled the room. Jo leaned forward impatiently waiting for Starla’s response. Ruiz cocked her head to the side . . . and waited.
Finally, Starla muttered one word. “Control.”
“Explain.” Ruiz held her pen over her paper, ready to take notes.
“He wanted to change my story to make it more marketable. His words, not mine.” She straightened in her chair. “He tried to force me to present the version of myself that audiences want.”
“What version was that?” Ruiz leaned in.
Starla’s voice was brittle when she responded. “The one that made him the most money.”
Ruiz nodded as she took notes. “Did he threaten to expose something about you?”
The question pushed Starla to her breaking point; her shoulders slumped, maybe for the first time in her life. “Yes.”
The room went silent, waiting to hear what would be said next.
“Did he specify what he planned to expose?”
Starla’s laughter was harsh. “He didn’t need to. I knew exactly what he was threatening.”
Ruiz stared at the defeated showgirl. “Did you kill him?”
Starla smiled; it was soft, incredulous even. It matched her calm tone when she answered. Her white knuckles clenched around her clutch told a different story. “If I wanted him dead, I would have let him destroy himself. He was quite good at that.”
Jo felt the truth of the woman’s words in her bones.
Ruiz watched her suspect carefully. “You screamed when the body was discovered.”
Starla swallowed. “He was an awful human being, but seeing his lifeless body . . . I don’t have the words to describe what it felt like in that moment.”
Ruiz closed her notebook. “Thank you.”
As Starla stood, her gaze met Jo’s. The showgirl’s perfect posture and fluid grace had returned, but her performance didn’t reach her eyes. Jo saw fear. Real, raw fear. Starla left the room in silence.
“I think it’s time for a brief break. We will reconvene later. Same rules as last night apply.” Ruiz dismissed the room, turning to speak to the other officers.
Jo turned to Eric. “What do you think Starla is hiding?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t think she killed him over whatever it is.” Eric took her hand in his and led them out of the ballroom. Aspen glued to Jo’s side.
Instead of turning towards their rooms, Eric made his way to the patio. The normally busy space was empty as everyone else seemed to head back to the safety of their hotel rooms.
“I hope you don’t mind, I thought we could use some fresh air after this morning.” Eric gestured to a cushioned sofa.
Aspen hopped onto the furniture, turned twice before curling into a ball in one corner.
Jo laughed despite the grimness of the day. “How can I say no when Aspen approves with such enthusiasm?”
“She is the boss.” Eric winked. “What would you like to drink?”
Jo shivered. “Peppermint mocha, if they have it.”
“If they don’t?”
“Something hot, caffeinated, that barely tastes like coffee. Not pumpkin spice. Unless it’s a cake, pumpkin spice cake is delish.” The words fell from her lips one on top of another.
“Gotcha,” Eric said before heading to the cafe.
Jo sat next to Aspen, absentmindedly stroking her dog’s fur. Prior to listening in on the interviews, she would have sworn Starla was the killer. But now, she wasn’t convinced. Sure, the woman had shown signs of nervousness, but who wouldn’t when being interviewed by a detective?
“Your peppermint mocha, milady.” Erik held out a paper cup. “And a pumpkin spice cupcake with cream cheese frosting.”
If she hadn’t just been contemplating a murder, there would have been hearts in her eyes. “Thank you. Are you this nice all the time?”
“I would make a joke and say, of course, unless I’m killing people. Seems a little too soon for something like that.” He took the seat across from her.
She smiled. “I’d laugh. But it does seem a little soon to be making murder jokes.”
“OMG! Are you two hanging out now IRL! That’s so adorable. Can I post about it on my Insta?” Lola already had her phone in her hand ready to record.
Jo’s head shot up. “Oh, Lola, it’s you. I don’t know if posting anything right now is a good idea. You don’t want to annoy Detective Ruiz.”
Eric shook his head. “Not now, I agree with Jo.”
Lola’s shoulders slumped before she sat in an empty chair next to them. “I guess you’re right. I’m worried I’m going to lose my momentum if I don’t post though. Especially with my agent—you know.” She drew her thumb across her neck.
“Victor was your agent?” Jo asked, her eyebrows raised.
Lola nodded. “Yeah, I thought everyone knew. Especially since pretty much everyone told me I was making a mistake going with him. But I didn’t listen.”
Eric leaned forward. “Did you like working with him?”
“Not really. He didn’t like any of my ideas. Tried to change my entire brand.” She shrugged. “I told him I was looking for a new agency after the signing. He wasn’t too happy with me.”
“He seemed to be angry all the time. Just look at how he treated Starla.” Jo tried to look relaxed as she prodded Lola for more information.
Lola shook her head. “I don’t know why she put up with it. Did you know Starla Fontaine isn’t her real name? She’s not even a real blonde. It’s all just branding to hide who she really is and where she came from. I think she wanted it all to come out in the biopic. Or maybe he did. I don’t know.”
The influencer’s tittering laughter failed to hide the tension everyone felt.
“Were you taking videos at the ball last night?” Eric asked, shifting the conversation.
“Of course, I’m always taking pictures and video. At the very least, I can use it for b-roll and slap some text over it,” Lola answered. “Do you want to see it?”
“How about you share it with me? I think if you select the files, we should be able to just tap to get them on my phone.” Eric looked like a cat ready to pounce.
“I guess, can’t hurt anything, can it?” She was already selecting videos to share. “That’s interesting. Starla is in the background of almost all my videos.”
Eric and Jo exchanged a look. Aspen’s tail thumped on the cushion.
“All done. I’m going to go to my room, plan out some content.” Lola stood waving as she walked away.
Eric looked at his phone like he couldn’t believe what had just happened. “Should we go to one of our rooms and watch these videos? I bet there are clues in all of them.”
Jo nodded, popping the last bite of her cupcake in her mouth before grabbing her coffee and Aspen’s leash. “Let’s do this.”
Eric went to take Jo’s hand but couldn’t since they were both full. He chuckled quietly as they walked back inside.
The resort felt different now—solemn, as if it were holding its breath until it could return to its normal cheer. Doors closed softly. Footsteps echoed where laughter had once bounced. Even the chandeliers seemed to sparkle less.
Eric stopped between their rooms. “I figured we should watch somewhere private. Your room or mine?”
“Does yours have more bread?” Jo asked.
Eric smiled. “It does.”
He held the keycard in front of the sensor until the green light popped on and swung the door open. Aspen tugged Jo inside like she knew a yummy snack awaited.
Eric tossed his phone onto the bed before taking off his cardigan. Jo kicked off her shoes and sat cross-legged on the bed, Aspen hopped up beside her with a small sigh, her chin landing squarely on Jo’s thigh.
“Aspen, you’re supposed to wait until you’re invited up.” Jo scolded her pup.
Aspen raised her eyebrows.
“I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind.” Jo apologized. “She’s used to being allowed on furniture.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Eric said, sitting next to her, close enough that their knees touched. He picked up his phone. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
The first few clips were exactly what Jo expected.
Dancing. Champagne flutes raised. Glittering gowns. A spinning camera angle that made Jo mildly seasick.
“That’s you,” Eric said, pausing one video.
Jo leaned in. “Wow. I clean up nice.”
“You’re stunning,” he said easily.
She smiled, then shook it off. “Focus.”
He swiped to the next video.
Starla appeared again and again, her gold dress unmistakable. There were videos of her laughing at the bar, posing for photos, mid-conversation with a reader who looked on the verge of tears. In one clip, she was dancing with a group near the edge of the floor.
Eric slowed the footage. “Timestamp?”
Jo checked the corner of the screen. Her pulse picked up. “That’s right around when Victor disappeared.”
Eric nodded. “And here—” He swiped to another clip. “Five minutes later. Same area.”
Starla was still out in the open, visible to everyone at the event. Nowhere near the service corridor.
Jo exhaled, the tension she hadn’t fully acknowledged finally loosening its grip. She didn’t know why, but she really didn’t want Starla to be guilty. “So, she didn’t do it.”
“No,” Eric agreed quietly. “I don’t see how she could have, unless someone else had the same dress as hers.”
Aspen huffed, tail thumping once, as if she approved of the conclusion.