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Backing out of the office, Theodosia murmured, “That nails it,” to Riley, who was following close behind her.
“Not quite,” Riley said.
“No?”
“That nails it pending forensic testing.”
“Look,” Theodosia said as they zigzagged through the shop. “You and I both know that Helene’s death—her murder—has to be connected to Josh Morro’s murder.”
“Does it really?” Tidwell said. They turned to find him huffing along behind them.
“Helene had to be involved,” Theodosia said. “Somehow, someway. I mean, two people murdered, both involved in the production of the same feature film? What are the odds?”
“Not very good,” Riley mumbled under his breath.
“Excuse me?” Tidwell glared at him.
Riley backpedaled. “I said I think we should call in the EMTs and have her body transported to the ME’s office as soon as possible.”
21
While Tidwell lingered inside, Theodosia and Riley stepped outside the Sea Witch only to find the two uniformed officers engaged in a heated argument with someone who’d apparently just arrived on scene. Even in the low light, she could see there was minor pushing and shoving going on.
One of the officers noticed Riley and said, “Detective Riley, this guy just showed up out of the blue. Said he was supposed to pick something up from a woman named Deveroux?”
“Quaid?” Theodosia cried. She recognized Adler’s assistant immediately. “What are you doing here?”
“You know this guy?” Riley asked her.
“Sure. Well, sort of,” Theodosia said. “Quaid is a personal assistant for Joe Adler, the film director.”
“A director needs a personal assistant?” Riley said under his breath.
“It’s a Hollywood thing,” Theodosia told him.
“These guys,” Quaid said, trying to shrug off the two uniformed officers, “tell me there’s been a murder here. What happened? Who was killed?”
“Helene Deveroux was killed here tonight,” Theodosia said.
“The Film Board lady? It can’t be.” Quaid looked pale and shaken. “That’s who I was coming to see.”
“What’s going on?” Tidwell suddenly demanded.
Quaid was beginning to look genuinely frightened. “Someone from the Charleston Film Board left me a voice mail and said it was urgent I pick something up from Mrs. Deveroux,” he said. “And now…you guys are telling me she’s been murdered?”
“Pick up what?” Riley asked. He sounded skeptical.
Quaid grimaced. “They didn’t say.”
“Who was it that called?” Tidwell asked as he signaled to the two officers to let Quaid go.
Quaid straightened up, drew a deep breath, and said, “The caller identified himself as Harlan Jasper.”
Tidwell gazed at Theodosia. “Is there someone named Harlan Jasper on the Charleston Film Board?”
“Let me check.” Theodosia pulled up the Film Board’s website on her phone and scrolled to the Board of Directors section. “Yes.”
