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the detective was outwardly hostile toward her, he certainly did not appreciate her recurrent presence at the crime scenes he was called in to investigate.

Poppy watched with a sense of dread as Detective Jordan questioned Timothy about who it was who discovered the body. Timothy turned, pointing in Poppy’s direction. When Jordan’s eyes fell upon her, he audibly groaned. He then shook his head and sternly marched over to where Poppy was sitting with Matt.

“Hello, Detective Jordan,” Poppy said tentatively.

“Poppy Harmon,” Lamar said, rolling his eyes. “Of course you’re here.”

“It’s always nice to see you,” Poppy said. “I wish just once it would not be under such tragic circumstances.”

“Me too, believe me,” he said, stone-faced. “Now, would you mind telling me what you’re doing here?”

Matt, who didn’t appreciate Jordan’s dismissive attitude toward Poppy, interjected, “Poppy is playing a role in the movie they’re shooting.”

Jordan turned his head toward Poppy and arched an eyebrow. “You’re acting again?”

“Yes,” Matt answered for her. “We’re both in it.”

Jordan chuckled derisively. “Matt Flowers. The Hercule Poirot of the Coachella Valley. My wife reads of your exciting exploits in the Desert Sun. I think she may even have a little crush on you.”

Matt could not help but crack a smile, flattered.

“So you’re strictly actors and not here in any official capacity as private investigators?”

They both hesitated before Poppy answered, “No, that’s not exactly true. Danika Delgado hired us to find a stalker who has been harassing her.”

“I suspected as much,” Jordan said, sighing.

“His name is Byron Savage,” Poppy continued. “And we have found a home address in Desert Hot Springs. You really should look into him because he has crashed the set before and—”

Jordan cut her off. “Yes, I know. And according to the crew we’ve already talked to, security has been tightened considerably since then. The guard swears no one outside of the cast and crew working today has been anywhere near the victim. We’ll check it out, but it’s unlikely this stalker is actually responsible for murdering Ms. Delgado.”

A chill ran through Poppy’s body.

Jordan noticed Poppy slightly trembling. “Are you okay, Ms. Harmon?”

“Yes,” Poppy whispered, obviously disturbed.

“Something you want to tell me?” Jordan asked.

Poppy raised her eyes to meet his and said firmly, “No.”

She needed to process what was now racing through her mind before she could seriously consider discussing it with anyone, even the detective looking into Danika’s murder.

“All right then, that’s all for now, but you can bet I’ll be in touch with more questions,” Jordan said firmly.

“And we will certainly be available at any time to answer them, Detective Jordan,” Poppy said, forcing a smile.

Jordan shook his head one more time and walked away.

“Not our biggest fan,” Matt remarked.

“He just doesn’t like us sticking our noses into police business, making his job harder.”

“But maybe if we all try working together . . .”

“Detective Jordan doesn’t strike me as a team player.”

Matt sighed. “I somehow feel this is all my fault.”

Poppy sprang to her feet. “Matt, no . . .”

“I should have stuck by her side, even after she fired us, and then maybe this would never have happened.”

“You heard the detective. The set was locked down. We thought she was safe,” Poppy insisted.

“But she wasn’t. And that’s on me.”

“I will not allow you take the blame for this, Matt, but if it makes you feel any better, we can push forward and try to find out who—”

“There you are!” Hal Greenwood bellowed as he hustled his hefty frame toward them with Greta chasing after him. “I just heard you two are not really actors!”

“Well, I have a People’s Choice Award that would help argue that point,” Poppy balked.

Hal turned to Matt. “I thought you were a security guard, not a private detective!” Hal bellowed.

“Danika hired them,” Greta calmly explained. “To find her stalker.”

“So Danika was paying them?” Hal growled.

Greta hesitated. “Not exactly. There was a clause in her contract for added security, if necessary, and so—”

“I’m bankrolling these two clowns? Well, okay, if they work for me, then I can fire them!” Hal yelled at Greta before turning back to Poppy and Matt. “You’re fired!”

“Twice in one day,” Matt said under his breath.

Greta quietly said, “Hal, they still have contracts as actors—”

“It doesn’t matter! I’m shutting down production until this whole ugly mess is figured out. If and when we start up again, it will be with an entirely new cast!”

And then Hal angrily waddled off, his face as red as a ripe tomato, followed on his heels by his loyal lieutenant, Greta.

Poppy and Matt exchanged resigned looks. Poppy’s comeback and Matt’s big break were both now officially kaput.

Chapter 16

Linda Appleton.

Poppy sat back in her chair in front of the desktop computer in the garage office, stunned.

She stared at the name again, making sure she had read the name right.

Sure enough, there it was in black-and-white on a news Web site.

Linda Appleton.

She had known the woman a long time ago.

And memories of that awful day way back in the mid-1980s when Linda had so tragically died suddenly came flooding back.

Poppy swiftly grabbed her phone and called to arrange an emergency meeting at the Desert Flowers Agency with her partners. Violet and Matt were already en route to the office. Iris was on the golf course and grumbled about having to cut her game short, but reluctantly agreed to come right away.

When they were all assembled, curious to know what was so important, Violet handed out cups of coffee to everyone as Poppy took the floor and solemnly addressed them.

“I’ve stumbled upon a possible development in the Danika Delgado murder I need to share with you,” Poppy said, visibly rattled.

“Poppy, you look pale, perhaps you should sit down,” Violet suggested, worried.

Poppy waved her off. “I’m fine, Violet.”

“What is it?” Matt asked, concerned.

Poppy took a sip of her coffee, her hand slightly shaking before setting the cup down and continuing. “When I happened upon Danika’s body in her trailer the other day, I was struck by the crime scene, a woman’s lifeless

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