<br><br> <center>*I couldn’t deny the intense draw I felt in that dimly lit room. 
The air around me hummed with an energy
 that was foreign and nostalgic all at once.*
― Rachael Arsenault</center>


<br><br> <center>![ee.jpg](https://images.hive.blog/DQmXvrJsMm4o2hob6BpbCFpkX1EFZ4uSHNrLvz3yLMLsZAQ/ee.jpg)</center>


<br><br>I was alone in the actress' apartment staring bleakly at the commonplace scene. If I closed my eyes to the blood-stained rug, everything else looked completely normal, and that disturbed me.

 Chloe’s necklaces hung on an elegant jewelry tree perched on the dressing table and the faint scent of her perfume pervaded the air. Her jewelry box was open, but apparently nothing was taken. Robbery was definitely not the motive.

I gazed at framed pictures—Chloe’s parents—both deceased—her agent, Audrey Williams and Chloe’s fiancé, Robert Harding who was still in Singapore on business, but flying home.

<br><br>I had investigated many celebrity murders, but never encountered a crime scene like this—it seemed so mundane. It seemed Chloe had deliberately chosen to live a very low-profile lifestyle—more typical of a young female professional, than a world-famous actress.

Tacked to a small cork board stuck to the wall were various quotes she had clipped from newspapers and magazines—inspirational quotes that revealed an innocent and sunny soul. 

This definitely was not a woman who would provoke, let alone inspire such malicious rage.

 It was a mystery.

<br><br>In the top drawer of the table was a small envelope addressed to Chloe with a lovely thank you card inside. It was not signed—it was written in a woman’s hand and simply said, *I want to be as good as you*. Below the message was a hand-drawn heart, followed by x’s and o’s.

The card was scented—musky and heavy—unlike Chloe’s fragrance that was softer and subtler.

Something about the card bothered me—niggled at me—raised my suspicions. I wanted to know who sent it and what it meant. I placed the card in a plastic evidence bag and put it in my jacket pocket.

<br><br>When I closed the door of the apartment, I felt I was containing the horror. Something black and hellish had taken place within those walls—something that should never be exposed to the light of day.

I doubted I’d ever go back—but promised I’d find who did this—who savagely tore apart a young girl, ripping her like a wolf.

<br><br> When I caught up with Becca I leaned she had found three people with keys—Audrey Williams, the agent, Robert Harding, the fiancé, and Edna Roberts, the housekeeper. There could be more people with keys, but for the time being, these were the ones we knew.

We decided to begin with Edna, the housekeeper,  and that turned out to be the wise choice. It seemed nothing untoward was allowed to occur in Chloe’s life during Edna’s watch. 
Edna had lost her own daughter to a road accident a few years back and had gravitated to Chloe, fussing over her and protecting her from prying eyes.


<br><br> Unfortunately, Edna did not live in. The sixty-year old widow lived in a small townhouse a few miles away and commuted to Chloe’s condo each day—nevertheless, not much escaped her notice.

I opted to take the lead questioning the housekeeper and Becca would take notes and observe her reactions.

<br><br>“Was Chloe upset during the time leading up to her death?” I asked.

“Oh no, Superintendent—Chloe was happy and even in a carefree state of mind.”

“Why was that—was it because she was looking forward to her marriage with Mr. Harding?”

“Well that, and retiring from the business.”

“Chloe was planning to leave show business?”

“Yes Superintendent. She was intending to start a family and be a stay-at- home mom—it’s what she always wanted.”

<br><br>That small fact puzzled me. “And what was her agent’s reaction to this?”

“Ms. Williams was excited—she seemed even more delighted than Chloe.”

Looking at Edna’s earnest face, it was hard not to believe her. The problem for me was the lack of motive for anyone to kill Chloe.

Edna began to tear up. “Ms. Williams saw Chloe earlier that day—the two of us were the last ones to see her alive.”

My ears pricked up. “Why did Ms. Williams drop by?”

“Oh, it was the usual—Audrey’s a sensitive you know—she channels a spirit named Adrian.”

<br><br>At this point, Becca stopped her note taking and directly addressed the older woman. “You mean Audrey Williams is a medium?”

Edna nodded. “She claims it’s her partnership with Adrian that gave Chloe her special aura—she called it the ‘it’ factor.”

Becca shot me a quick glance. “I see.”

<br><br>After Edna left, Becca was excited.

 “We might have a motive after all, Alan. If Audrey felt she and her spirit guide were responsible for Chloe’s success, maybe she would resent Chloe deciding to end the partnership.”

I scratched my chin. “I’m not so sure the pieces quite fit together. Edna did say Audrey was delighted with Chloe’s plans for retiring to be a stay-at-home mom."

<br><BR>"Maybe she was just putting on an act to cover her real feelings,” Becca suggested.

“Perhaps. I suppose the only way we’ll know for sure is to interview Audrey next. Why don’t we visit her in her lair? If there’s anything off about her, it might become more apparent if we catch her off guard in her own home.”

This case was beginning to head in a direction that was eerie and raised the hackles on the back of my neck.
<br><br> <center>To be continued…</center>

<br><center>© 2020, John J Geddes. All rights reserved</center>

<br><center>[Photo]( https://images.app.goo.gl/SwQJmPHnA1XpthrUA   )</center>

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