“I got the call a couple of hours ago,” Cooper said. “They’d just started filming the first scene of the day. The lead actress, what’s her face—”
“Emma Lou,” I interrupted. When Cooper’s eyes landed on me, I added sheepishly, “I did a little reading up on the movie before it came to town.”
“Right. Emma Lou,” Cooper agreed. “She was filming a breakup scene with Tennison. Supposedly, it’s a comedic scene with her brandishing the gun around and eventually shooting it in his direction.”
“Hilarious,” I said dryly.
“Exactly my thoughts,” Cooper echoed. “Regardless, the gun got pointed at Tennison.”
“They use set guns,” I said. “Fake props. They’d never use a real gun on screen.”
“Again, correct,” Cooper said. “Emma Lou claims that she thought it was the prop gun. Is that possible?”
“Some of the fake guns are pretty realistic,” I admitted. “And Emma Lou’s sort of ditzy. Let’s just say if she can find the right side of a knife to butter her toast, it’s a good day.”
“So you know Emma Lou.”
“Not closely. I styled her earlier in her career,” I said. “For the Golden Globes. She showed up with two different shoes to the event. To the Golden Globes! I had to lend her my heels.”
“I see,” Cooper said. “Well, during the scene, she was brandishing it about as the script dictated. But when she pulled the trigger—theoretically—the gun fired.”
“Yikes,” I said. “She must feel awful.”
“Unless she was intending to do it,” Cooper said. “Which is one obvious option.”
“Too obvious,” I said. “And also stupid. But sort of smart. Emma Lou’s not that smart. Did you interview her?”
“Of course,” Cooper said. “She seemed very torn up.”
“As I’d expect someone to be if they accidentally shot someone.” I shuddered. “Can you imagine?”
Cooper ignored my question. “If Emma Lou didn’t bring the gun on set and shoot him on purpose, then that means someone else swapped it out.”
“Still seems a bit weird,” I said. “I mean, very dangerous. It could have gone off and killed anyone.”
“But she was supposed to fire the gun toward Tennison,” Cooper reiterated. “That was very clear. Written directly into the script—I saw a copy of it myself. Not to mention, if someone purposefully swapped out a stunt gun for a real weapon, I doubt they’re all that worried about accidental casualties.”
“Yeah, but the chances are that whoever swapped the gun out was there,” I said. “Who else has access to the props other than the cast and crew?”
“It could’ve been a prop person, an actor not in the scene, etcetera. Someone hiding away in their trailer.”
“I suppose,” I said. “But none of this answers how you’ve pegged Ryan as your main suspect.”
“I talked to the prop guys,” Cooper said. “The one in charge, Harrison Anders, claims he doesn’t know what happened. He says he placed the stunt gun in the car—where it belonged for the scene. His assistant confirmed it.”
“He’s positive the gun wasn’t already switched out?” I asked. “I mean, he’s sure that it was the fake gun he put in the car?”
“Positive,” Cooper said. “He’s familiar with guns. He claims he would’ve known the second he picked it up if it wasn’t right.”
“Okay,” I said. “Someone swapped the gun out of the car, then. Which makes sense—there’s the smallest risk of being discovered that way. The fewer people handling it, the fewer people who might notice the switch. This way, it went straight into Emma Lou’s hands.”
“Who didn’t notice.”
“Right. As we already covered, I wouldn’t be surprised at all to hear she’d never seen a real gun before. And even if she had, the chances she would’ve noticed—in the heat of the moment—are slim. The lights, camera, action.” I shrugged. “It’s a lot. It’s intense. She’d have been trying to remember her lines and be caught up in the fake fight. Although the fight was fake, it would have felt real, felt heated. That’s what good acting is after all.”
“Fair,” Cooper said. “That’s what brings me to my next point. The only person that anyone saw go to the car before the scene started filming was Ryan Lewis.”
“Ah.” An uneasy feeling slid into my stomach. “I see. You think it was Ryan who switched out the gun. Ryan who wanted Tennison dead.”
“It’s possible,” Cooper said. “I’m exploring all possibilities. And I have three eyewitnesses. Their stories all match up. They all claim they saw Ryan go to the car and open the door a few minutes before the scene started.”
“Did Ryan say why he did that?”
“No,” Cooper said. “He didn’t say. That’s when he said he wanted to talk to you.”
“Sounds like he needs to talk to a lawyer.”
“That’s what I told him,” Cooper said. “Right now, he’s clamming up. He has called a lawyer, but he’s still maintaining that he wants to talk to you.”
“Okay.”
“I hate to pry into your past, Jenna, but can I ask you something?”
I looked into Cooper’s eyes. “Honestly, Chief, I wish you wouldn’t. I’m just getting over everything that happened in California. I’m happy to be here in Blueberry Lake. I just want to mind my own business for once. A task that seems impossible in this town.”
“That’s a very impossible task,” Cooper agreed. “Nobody warned you before you moved here? You thought your life was public in Los Angeles? Those gossip rags have got nothing on Beasley’s knitting club.”
“I heard my name,” Mrs. Beasley called from a seat near the door.
“I know,” Cooper called back. “Mind your own business, Mrs. Beasley.”
“I changed your diapers, Cooper Dear,” Mrs. Beasley called back. Then she added, “Chief.”
Cooper turned his grin toward me. “Can’t hide anything here.”
I was also smiling. “Yeah, but it’s different. Mrs. Beasley loves you.”
“I know it,” Cooper said. “And, Jenna, you’re a part of Blueberry Lake now, and we’ve got your back. I wouldn’t be here, asking you these questions, if it wasn’t important.”
I sighed. “What is it that you want to know, exactly?”
All signs of a smile disappeared as Cooper leveled his gaze on me. “You know Ryan Lewis better than anyone else involved in this case. If you tell me nothing else, I need to know this: Do you think he could have killed someone?”
I considered for a long, long time. This was my chance at revenge. To get back at the idiot who’d broken my heart, dumped me very publicly and rudely for another woman, and shattered my life in Los Angeles. It would be easy for me to bad-mouth him and tell Cooper Dear exactly how awful he was. Would I be justified? Maybe. But I couldn’t do it. No matter how much I wanted to, I knew that I couldn’t do that to anyone.