Undercover with the Undead Page 3

  Felicity instructed her team to start on cleanup duty since the party was obviously done now, and while she was picking up around the dessert table, she was again approached by the show’s head director, Kenneth. “So, rumor is that you have done a little detective work on the side?”

  Felicity frowned. “A little. I went to school for investigative journalism, but I dropped out to open up a party planning business. I have just helped the local police with a few cases.”

  “They call you Senoia’s own personal Nancy Drew,” he said.

  “It’s just a silly nickname.”

  “I’ll hire you,” he offered.

  “I really don’t do that sort of thing anymore,” Felicity insisted.

  “I’ll pay you four times what I offered you for this party if you can figure out who did this,” he said.

  Now that certainly sparked Felicity’s interest. She had never been paid to work a case before. “Oh my goodness, she accepts!” her mother exclaimed.

  “Mom!” Felicity exclaimed.

  “Well?” Kenneth asked.

  “I suppose if you make an offer like that,” Felicity said with a slight grin, “I accept, but why not trust the local police to do the job?”

  “Small town police work is too slow for my taste. This could hurt our show, and Bridget was a sweet girl. I want to know if someone on my crew did this. I certainly hope not, but I can’t have my crew and my actors on high alert the week before we start filming the new season.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Felicity said, and Kenneth thanked her before hurrying off to speak with the police.

  “Oh, this is going to be so fun,” Mrs. Overton said with amusement as she hooked arms with Felicity.

  “I’m sorry, but what do you mean by that, Mom?” Felicity asked.

  Autumn giggled slightly. “Good luck, Felicity. I’m going to go get in line for the police interviews so I don’t wind up stuck here all night in this itchy zombie makeup.”

  “Understood,” Felicity said.

  “So where do we get started?” Mrs. Overton asked, practically shaking with excitement.

  “I’m sorry… We?” Felicity tugged her arm free of her mother’s grasp. “Mom, I think I can handle this one on my own. You don’t need to babysit me.”

  “Well, I know that, dear. I just know your friends have helped you on some cases before, and I thought that maybe I could too. It would be fun—a little mother-daughter side project.”

  “Couldn’t we just take a spin class or something?”

  “Oh, Felicity, hush!” her mother said. “Be a little open-minded. I want to see my daughter in action! Come on, now, where do we start?”

  “Fine,” Felicity moaned, uncertain of her mother’s motives. Did she really just want to help and spend some time together, or was she just once again overexerting her reach like everyone else because she believed that Felicity was about to crack under the pressure? She decided to give her mother the benefit of the doubt for the time being. Maybe she really did just want to work a case with her. Last year had been rather exciting, and her parents had played no part in her new adventurous life. “Okay, well…” Felicity scanned the crowd. “I imagine it will be difficult to get a hold of a lot of these people. While they are here, let’s pull some people aside and conduct a few interviews. There’s Jasmine over there. She looks like she is about to leave, and I know she was with the victim earlier tonight.”

  “I’m on it,” her mother said. Before Felicity could argue, the woman was walking right up to the pregnant extra and nabbing her before she could get off set. However, it was not the disaster that Felicity expected from Crazy Ms. O. Her mother swooped in, piling compliments on Jasmine about her lovely pregnancy glow. Felicity stood back in awe as her mother suddenly became a listening ear to a very distraught Jasmine. “I just don’t understand who would do something like this,” Jasmine said tearfully. “Bridget was so sweet. She became one of my best friends on set.”

  “How long have you two known each other?” Mrs. Overton asked.

  “Oh, not very long,” Jasmine said. “She only became an extra in the show during this last season, but she was just so sweet to everyone. Even the leads love her and know her by name. She became close with everyone. I can’t imagine someone wanting to hurt her.”

  “You were with her this evening?”

  “We tend to stick together at these set parties,” Jasmine said.

  “What time tonight did you see her last?” Felicity asked, stepping in at last.

  “Probably just a half-hour before the police were called,” Jasmine said.

  “Did you see anything?” Mrs. Overton asked.

  “No,” Jasmine said. “Bridget told me she had to meet up with someone at the party, but she didn’t tell me who. That’s the last I saw her.”

  Mrs. Overton exchanged phone numbers with Jasmine and thanked her for answering their questions, letting her know they were looking into what had just happened to Bridget alongside the police. “Good,” Jasmine said. “I hope you find whoever did this.”

  Jasmine left, and when she did, Felicity turned and smiled at her mom. “Way to build some trust. She talked very easily to you, Mom.”

  “Six weeks at the FBI Academy did teach me a few things,” her mom said.

  “FBI Academy?” Felicity asked, but her mother was already trotting off in search of a new person to interview. Her mother did that sort of thing quite often. Randomly introduced an unknown factoid about her life as though it was a trivial detail not worth diving into. Felicity was unsure if half the random bits of information that spewed out of her mom’s mouth were true. There was an ongoing debate between Felicity and her sister Iris about whether or not their mother had ever actually spent the summer after her high school graduation as a bounty hunter in Hawaii. Then there was the diamond smuggler story—Felicity certainly couldn’t buy into that one.

  “So where to next?” her mother asked, placing her hands on her hips and scanning the area as though she believed she was in a detective movie and the plot had just thickened.

  “We could take a look around the set. Hard to imagine we will be let back in here at another time,” Felicity said. “I’ve never had to deal with a crime scene quite like a television set before. I’m sure there is a lot of security around here during the day. Yeah, I think that should be our next step. Let’s just look around and see if there is anything suspicious that stands out to us.”

  “Great!” her mother exclaimed. “This is just so exciting! We hardly do anything together anymore.”

  Detective work is not exactly my idea of mother-daughter bonding, Felicity thought with a hint of amusement. I wonder if my mom is just wanting to play around on this case tonight or if she is going to be suffocating me through the whole thing? Felicity shuddered at the thought. She and her mother had a magnificent relationship, but she rarely involved the woman with her work. Tonight was an exception because it had been an opportunity to meet some celebrities, but working a case with her was another story.

  They were not allowed over by the crime scene, so they decided to snoop over by the trailers. A custodial janitor was bent over cleaning up a mess near a trashcan, grumbling about people throwing trash right next to a bin. With the slightest of hand that Felicity has ever seen, her mother unhooked the set of keys from around the man’s waist without him even noticing her presence and she kept on walking. Wish I knew how to do that, Felicity thought and giggled. “Did you learn that at the academy too?” she asked her mother in a whisper.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You know I spent a year as a traveling magician’s assistant,” her mother said. That much Felicity could confirm as something more than one of her mother’s random claims. There were pictures, and they were horrifyingly embarrassing. Felicity could recall her mother putting a show clown to shame at a friend’s birthday party one year as a kid. She shuddered to recall how the birthday party incident had resulted in her mother being hired to be a clown at many chi
ldren’s birthday parties for the next several summers. How did I not just die from humiliation as a kid, Felicity pondered. She laughed slightly to herself at the fond but somewhat traumatizing memory of her mother in clown attire. As a little girl, her father had once convinced her that her mother was a cartoon character, and that was perhaps the best way to describe the woman. Sure, she was a true southern woman at heart, but you just never knew what she was going to get herself into next.

  Yes, her mother had always been a bit of a question mark, but the woman would also normally wind up pleasantly surprising her. Felicity just hoped that this was one of those times.

  Chapter 5

  Much to Felicity’s disappointment, she and her mother didn’t manage to turn up much of anything of interest after snooping through the trailers. Although her mother did swipe a hairbrush and hide it away in her purse, and Felicity thought it best not to question why. Her mother normally had her reasons. On the way back to the crime scene, they bumped back into the janitor they had seen earlier. As they passed by him, Felicity whispered to her mother, “Shouldn’t we return his keys? I don’t want him to get in trouble.”

  “Sweetheart, I already did,” was her reply, and Felicity glanced back to see the set of keys dangling from the man’s hips. He had never even noticed that they had gone missing. Okay, maybe I should sign up for that magic class she took, Felicity pondered with amusement.

  They arrived back at the crime scene where the police chief was finishing up with overseeing his on-scene crew. “Okay, maybe if we play nice, they will let us have a look at the crime scene before they remove Bridget to take her to the morgue. Hopefully, the chief is in a sharing mood.” Felicity never knew what to expect from Chief Morgan. The man had at times been grateful for her input, but some days, he was less than thrilled to have a civilian snooping around his crime scenes.

  “You need to take a peek at the crime scene? Leave that to me,” she said, taking a moment to wipe off what little was left of her zombie makeup, and then she strutted past Felicity. “Oh, Timmy!” the woman called as she marched up to the yellow tape where Chief Morgan was standing.

  “Timmy?” Felicity mumbled with amusement. She was not quite sure what her mother was up to, so she braced herself for the unexpected.

  “Samantha?” the chief asked as though they were old friends who had not seen one another in ages.

  “That’s right,” her mother sang. “I hear you are Senoia’s Chief of Police now? I’m impressed.”

  “You keeping up with me, Sammy?” the chief asked, and Felicity could see the chief nervously fiddling with a pen.

  Oh my Gosh, Felicity thought, and she could feel blood rushing to her face. Is my mom flirting with Chief Morgan? She had certainly never seen this fidgety side of the chief before; the man always seemed confident when he was chewing Jack out or barking out orders to his officers he commanded with an iron fist. Now he looked like a nervous high school freshman who was attempting to chat it up with the school’s head cheerleader.

  “My husband still reads the paper,” her mother said. “I can always tell when he comes across your name in the paper because he gets all worked up. Always was a little jealous of you, wasn’t he?”

  “So you’re still married to the redneck, huh?” the chief asked—sounding legitimately disappointed—and then his eyes darted in Felicity’s direction. “Overton. I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection.”

  “Felicity, come here!” her mother called excitedly.

  Felicity wandered over, never having felt so uncomfortable in the chief’s presence before. “Felicity, you never told me you were the Sammies’ kid.”

  The Sammies’? Felicity tried not to giggle at the unusual couples name. Her father was Samuel, and her mother Samantha. She had heard a few jokes about that over the years, but the chief spoke it like they were a television couple with a fandom. “I didn’t realize you knew my parents, Chief,” Felicity said.

  “I knew your mother. And I knew she married a Samuel Overton. Suppose I should have guessed it. Overton is not really a common surname, is it?” the chief said, his eyes fixated on her mother in a way that emphasized a sense of longing that made Felicity cringe. “You certainly have your mother’s spark.”

  “Um…thanks…” Felicity said.

  “Listen, Timmy,” her mother said. “My daughter and I have just been hired to work Miss Bridget’s case by the show’s director. If you and your officers are finished with the crime scene, we would appreciate a look.”

  The chief smiled. “I don’t see why not. You thinking about becoming a PI now, Overton?”

  “Not really. I have my shop to run,” she said.

  The chief pulled back the yellow tape and walked them over to where Bridget’s body was currently covered by a white tarp. “Tell me, Timmy, did your boys find anything of interest?” Mrs. Overton asked, casually placing her hand on the man’s arm to use him to balance while she dug a rock out of her shoe.

  Felicity could see that this made the chief blush, and she did her best not to let whatever this was distract her. “She had a note in her pocket. Meet me by the trailers. And it was signed by that Ronnie fellow.”

  “Have you asked him about it?” Felicity questioned.

  “No. He dipped out of the party before Bridget’s body was ever found. We are sending an officer out to the home he is renting now to bring him in for questioning,” the chief said. “If you don’t mind giving me your number, Sammy, I can give you a call and let you know what comes of that.”

  Smooth, Felicity mused.

  “That would be great, Timmy,” her mother said and willingly accepted his phone to put in her phone number.

  Felicity took a moment to observe the crime scene. Multiple stab wounds, and they were deep. “Bridget was not wearing zombie makeup earlier tonight,” Felicity said.

  “Whoever did that is probably making some sort of statement,” the chief said. “Just not sure what yet.”

  “Thanks for letting me have a look, Chief,” Felicity said.

  “Any time, Overton,” he said.

  “Good to know, Timmy,” Felicity teased slightly.

  Felicity walked through the surrounding area, but she didn’t find much of anything. She and her mother crossed back over the yellow tape, and once they were out of listening range, her mother said, “Expect a call from the chief. I gave him your number.”

  “That’s cold, Mom,” Felicity said. “So what is the story between you and the chief anyway?”

  “Oh, well, we met at a Woodstock reunion,” she began.

  “Mom, is this one of those stories you tell that’s going to make me need therapy?” Felicity asked, and her mother slapped her arm.

  “Felicity, you always assume the worst. We shared a little weed during my brief wild phase and we dated for a while,” her mother said.

  “You did what!” Felicity exclaimed.

  “Sweetie, I did date men before your father. Surely you’re not surprised by that.”

  “Mom, that’s not the part I’m gaping about,” Felicity said and then lowered her voice. “I’m talking about the first part—the part about you smoking pot with the police chief.”

  “Come on, Felicity, even Chief Morgan was young once. I’m sure at some point, you and your sister both have smoked a little of the plant and had a little fun with a stranger you met at a renaissance festival behind the porta-potties.”

  Felicity covered her ears. “Oh my gosh, Mom, no! I have never smoked weed and fooled around with a stranger!”

  “Aww, you’re so cute,” her mom said. “I raised such good girls. Quit looking so embarrassed, Felicity, I was kidding.”

  Felicity shook her head. “Thank goodness.”

  Her mother winked and then whispered, “I wasn’t high when I did that.”

  “Mom!” Felicity exclaimed.

  “Kidding!” she said and laughed. “Oh, working with you is going to be so fun.”

  Felicity shook her head again
and sighed, but she smiled at her mom. “Yeah, oodles of fun.”

  Chapter 6

  It was Saturday, and like most Saturdays in Senoia, Felicity had spent the entirety of the day on her feet speaking to window shoppers and booking the occasional event. She and Jefferson at last were able to slump down into the lounge furniture and prop their feet up on the coffee table as closing time drew near. “What a day,” Jefferson said, sounding like he was seconds from passing out.

  “You’re telling me,” Felicity moaned. “Saturdays are rough.” Her stomach growled. It had been far too hectic to take a lunch break. She planned to grab a bite to eat before heading back to her parents’ house.

  “So how is the Bridget case coming along?” Jefferson asked. “It’s awesome that someone actually hired you to work a case.”

  “Slowly,” Felicity said. “My mom and I interviewed a few people at the party last night, but with today being the busiest day of the week, I haven’t progressed much at all.”

  “You know I can always watch the shop,” Jefferson said.

  “I know, but I hate making you do that all the time,” she said.

  “It’s what you hired me for, right?” he said with a smile. “You know I don’t mind.”

  “I know, but sometimes I feel like you do more work here than me, and it’s my shop,” she said.

  “I am not opposed to a raise,” he teased.

  Felicity smiled. “Expect one soon.”

  “Really?” he asked, sitting upright.

  “Really. You help me out so much. And not just here at the shop. You have helped with the cases I’ve worked. And you have been so sweet to me after everything that happened back in February with Brian,” she said. “You are one of my best friends. I couldn’t possibly thank you enough.”

  He smiled at her. Jefferson always had such a warm look to him when they were together. Felicity knew why now. He had confessed his feelings for her after she and Brian had gotten engaged. A part of her had always known how he felt. When she and Brian had first started dating, Brian had noticed it too, and he had been so jealous and unpleasant about Jefferson at first. She wasn’t quite ready to move on, and she certainly was not certain whether or not it was a good idea to move on with someone she considered to be such a close friend.