Chapter 65 – Beware the Pattern

Her apartment greeted her with merciless heat. Chloe closed the door behind her, tossed the keys onto the kitchen counter, and pulled her tank top over her head on the way to the bathroom without even turning on the light first.

She took a quick lukewarm shower and then put on an oversized T-shirt and shorts. Her damp hair stuck to the back of her neck. She flung the windows open briefly to let the stale air out, but not even the slightest breath of wind came through the open window.

Chloe sat down on the bed, which creaked beneath her like a kicked dog and started her laptop. She opened her investigation document, scrolled past all the entries that essentially summarized her entire life in Valley City so far, and began typing.

FILE EDIT VIEW INSERT FORMAT TOOLS HELP

Damien “Daz” Carter: First meeting. Filming day for ChloeHeart.com. We produced solo content.

He’s more professional than I expected and definitely more professional than he looks. He understands my brand, does really good camera work, and came prepared.

Reformed asshole act: Tells an obviously rehearsed story about jealousy in a failed relationship with a performer (didn’t mention Sam by name at lunch, only later at the bar when I asked explicitly). He does seem like there’s real pain involved, but he exploited that to make his story come across as more believable.

At the bar he dropped Samantha’s name, actually only spoke well of her, and also said something about “the day she died” and then trailed off. He talked about how he wished he had “said something different” So I assume he was definitely with her that evening. The police had him as a suspect but let him go. Why? Officially due to lack of evidence, but what does that mean? Did he have an alibi? But apparently he was there that evening? He’s at least a witness.

He immediately deflected and changed the subject when he realized what he’d said, then switched to flirt mode and showered me with compliments.

We exchanged numbers. Obviously, I have to stay in touch with him.

She saved the document, closed her laptop, and called Morgan, who picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” Morgan’s voice sounded a little tired. Soft music could be heard in the background and the occasional click of her keyboard.

“Hey. Are you still working?”

“Yeah, I have to revise this damn article about the city’s garbage collection problems for the fourth time now because the Times’ legal department is wetting their pants.” A short, weary laugh. “But whatever. How was the shoot with Daz?”

Chloe leaned against the wall, pulled her knees up, and began to tell her. She started with the professional aspects, with Daz’s good eye for camerawork, his knowledge of her brand, the solid structure he’d given the shoot.

“Sounds like he’s competent,” said Morgan.

“He is. He may look like he lives in his car, and he was definitely stoned when I arrived, but his work is rock-solid. He came prepared, analyzed my content beforehand, you know. Really made things easy for me.”

“Did you manage to get anything out of him about Samantha?”

“I told him a few stories over lunch about my supposedly terrible dating life and asked him for advice, and he took the bait right away. I think he has some sort of rehearsed routine as a reformed jerk who used to be jealous and toxic and ruined his relationship, but regrets it, has learned from his mistakes, and is now a better person. But at lunch, he didn’t mention Samantha by name yet, he just talked about a performer he used to date.”

“So did you ask again later?”

“We went out for a drink afterward, and that’s when I casually asked, out of curiosity, who she was and if I might know her.” Chloe paused briefly. “He told me and he was clearly hoping I’d be impressed.”

“And of course you did him the favor.”

“Yeah, I played along enthusiastically, told him she was my idol and the reason I got into the industry, the usual routine. He bought it hook, line, and sinker. Eventually, he brought up the end of their relationship, the breakups, the back-and-forth, and that she had died.” She paused briefly. “And then he let it slip.”

That made Morgan perk up. “What exactly did he say?”

“He said he wished he’d said something different the night she died. The night she died, Morgan. Which means he was with her that night, or at least spoke to her.”

Morgan was silent for a moment. “But the police let him go due to lack of evidence. I think there was talk of an alibi.”

“Maybe he was there before or after, or his alibi isn’t quite right?”

“Or both.” Morgan sounded wide awake now and the music in the background was off. “In any case, the police had him listed as a suspect. There were witnesses who reported that they argued frequently, and I know his behavior during the interrogation was supposedly erratic, but his alibi must have held up somehow, otherwise they certainly wouldn’t have let him go.”

“What if the police were wrong? What if it was him?”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Morgan said reassuringly. “What we have right now is a hint. Think about it, did he say anything concrete? Anything that could directly relate to the murder?”

“No, the murder didn’t come up at all, and he clammed up as soon as he realized what he’d said.”

“Hmm.” Chloe heard Morgan typing again, probably taking notes. “You’ll probably have to keep at him.”

“I know, that’s why I exchanged numbers with him.”

“Take it slow. You need to keep building his trust, yeah, but don’t come right out with it, or he’ll get suspicious.”

“I know. I’ll find an opportunity.”

Morgan was silent for a moment. Then she said, in a tone that was still warm but a touch more serious, “Chloe, there’s something I want to bring up.”

The way she said it, so cautiously, made Chloe sit up and take notice.

“Okay?”

“I’m seeing a pattern here. And before you shut me down, please just hear me out.”

“Okaaay?”

“With Daniel the other day, you acted a little starstruck, then brought up Samantha as your idol, watched his reaction, and got him to talk about her. With Daz today, you steered the conversation toward dating and got him to mention his ex-girlfriend over lunch, followed up at the bar, brought up Samantha as your idol, and watched his reaction.”

Chloe said nothing.

“It’s basically the same move, and you didn’t just bring it up like that with Daniel and Daz. You also mentioned Samantha to Randy, to Trevor, you talked about her with Elena, you probed Lucia, and you did the same with Madeline and, last but not least, with Ben. Every time, sooner or later, you moved the conversation to Samantha Sparkles.”

“Because she’s the reason I’m here, Morgan. What did you expect?”

“I don’t expect anything else, and taken individually, each of these conversations is completely natural and innocent. A young newcomer mentioning her admiration for a tragically deceased colleague who was her idol, that’s a perfectly normal topic of conversation. But it’s still a pattern.”

Chloe felt a queasy sensation in her stomach. “What do you mean?”

“All these people know each other, Chloe. Randy knows Ben, Ben knows Valeria, Daniel works for Valeria, Valeria has Elena under contract, and so on and so forth. It’s a network, Chloe. What happens if Daniel runs into Daz on a set next week and the two of them talk about how this new girl Chloe Heart, whom they’ve both recently worked with, is so enthusiastic about Samantha Sparkles? And then one of them says something like, ‘Yeah, right, she told me too how much she admired her, and asked all kinds of questions about her.’ And the other says, ‘Funny, she did the same with me.'”

Silence.

“And if that happens,” Morgan said calmly, “then it won’t look like admiration anymore. Then it’ll look like you have an agenda.”

“You mean…”

“After all, that’s exactly how I became aware of you. I mean, I’m on your side because I want to find out what happened to Samantha, just like you, and that’s why I’ve always kept my ear to the ground. But imagine if someone who isn’t on your side comes to the same conclusions, someone who also has a reason to take notice because someone suddenly starts asking questions about Samantha.”

Chloe swallowed.

“You mean… someone like the killer,” she said quietly.

“Yes.”

“And what do you think I should do?” Chloe heard the sharpness in her own voice, but she couldn’t stay calm. “I don’t have many tools, Morgan. I’m an eighteen-year-old who’s making porn to solve a murder. I don’t have a police badge, a search warrant, or… or labs and files or anything like that. What I do have is a pretty face, my body, and the fact that men like to talk around me. I know I keep using the same strategy over and over, but damn it, it works. Never change a running system, right?”

“I understand.” Morgan’s voice was gentle and patient. “I’m just saying you should mix it up a bit. Don’t go straight for Samantha every time. You don’t have to get information out of every first conversation. You’re putting too much pressure on yourself, and that could be dangerous. I… I’m just worried about you, okay?”

Chloe pressed her lips together.

She’s right. Damn it. Of course she’s right.

All day long, she’d felt like she had to have everything under control. The shoot, Daz, the conversation at the bar, and she’d felt so damn clever. But Morgan was right.

“Okay,” Chloe said. “Okay, I hear you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re right, I… I didn’t realize how it looked from the outside. I was stupid.”

There was a note of relief in Morgan’s voice. “You’re not stupid! All I wanted was for you to be aware of it.”

Chloe rubbed her eyes. “Thanks. I guess I have blinders on sometimes.”

“It would be surprising if you didn’t. You’ve got a hell of a lot on your plate. The least I can do is look out for you. I’m great at throwing in know-it-all advice from the sidelines.”

Chloe had to laugh.

“So,” Morgan said, her tone becoming lighter again as if she were consciously shifting gears. “Let’s change the subject. What was it like being both a producer and a performer for the first time?”

“Oh my God, it was so chill. I got to decide everything myself and nobody told me what to do… well, except Daz sometimes, but that always made sense. And the toys were so much better than I ever imagined.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Morgan’s voice took on an indignant tone. “Are you telling me that today was your first time with toys?”

“Yes. John would never in a million years have allowed something like that into his sacred home.”

“Oh my God, Chloe, this is such a tragedy!”

“I think I caught up pretty well today.”

Morgan laughed. “Well, at least the day turned out to have some silver lining.”

“And they paid me for it!”

“I could almost be jealous.”

“Don’t complain, you get paid to eat hot dogs.”

“Point taken.”

“I should go to sleep.”

“Good night, Chloe. Call me anytime. And let’s hang out again soon.”

“Oh yeah, please! Maybe not another art opening, though.”

“No way!”

“Good night, Morgan.”

“Sleep well.”

Chloe placed her phone on the bed next to her. She should be more worried about what Morgan had said. It was a real danger, and she had to be careful. But…

…mostly, it feels good to have someone who has my back and cares for me.