by CDR

"I can’t understand it You always figure out the ending, It’s", Chris gestured scornfully toward the TV, "It’s nothing like real police work. I could understand it if they followed police procedure, but this stuff is so corny." A look of utter frustration crossed his face.

Rita laughed. "You forget Sam, I grew up on Suzy Pratt books. I love a good mystery. It’s one of the reasons I got into police work." Crossing the room, she sat down beside him on the couch. Looking seductively through her lashes, she traced his jaw with her finger. As she leaned towards him, she whispered "You know I love a man with dishpan hands"

Rita bolted off the sofa, but not in time to avoid being clipped by the pillow tossed at her by Chris. Laughing, she left the room to check on their son as the phone rang. "Chris, can you get it? Hurry, you know my favorite show is on next, "Murder Beat"

Chris groaned as he picked up the phone. "Lorenzo." The grin on his face dissolved as he listened. "All right, we can meet first thing in the morning. No, we’ll both be there by nine." Placing the receiver back in the cradle, he walked over to the television. He was changing the channel as Rita returned to the room.

"Who was that on the phone? She noticed him turning the dial on the television. "Hey "Murder Beat" is on, why are you...." She cut herself off in mid-sentence as she stared at the program Chris had placed on the TV

"Leslie McAfee was arrested this morning for the murder of her costar Jared Wilson. Ms. McAfee is the popular star of "Murder Beat." Witnesses state that the two had a heated argument last night on the set of the television show. Mr. Wilson, found by his housekeeper early this morning, was shot twice in the chest." The reporter was replaced on the screen by a film clip of a stocky woman being led to a police car, her hands cuffed in front of her.

Chris turned to Rita. "That was my mother. Anna’s an old friend of Leslie McAfee. She’s convinced that McAfee is innocent." Chris frowned and shoved his hand through his hair.

Rita eyed his expression and raised her eyebrows.

"She wants us to investigate. I don’t know Sam, this is a ongoing police investigation. We’re always careful not to cross into an open case. It makes it difficult for any of our friends still on the force."

"Chris, this is different, we have to do this for Anna. After all, she is your mother."

Rita stood and examined her husband. Tension was clear in his body language.

Chris’s mouth twisted into a caustic grin. "That makes it uncomfortable on all counts. And what if her friend is guilty?" He began to pace the room

Rita walked over and slipped her arm around his waist. "Then at least we arrived at the truth."

Chris gathered Rita in his arms and looked into the endless depths of her green eyes. The extent of what was expressed was overwhelming. Not only was this his wife, but his best friend, someone so in synch with him that he often found it hard to believe she existed. A love so complete, that he was astonished by his fortune. He ran one hand lightly over her hair and cupped her chin in the other. "All right Rita, nine a.m. tomorrow, we’ll go to the studio."

"Chris and Rita Lorenzo." Chris spoke out his window to the security guard stationed at the gate of the sound stage. The guard motioned them through. All around them people were hurrying, many carrying pieces of equipment or costumes in their arms, while others stared at manuscripts in their hands.

"I knew Palm Beach had a busy movie industry," stated Rita, taking it all in, "but I didn’t know so much TV work was done here."

"I didn’t either" said Chris. He parked the car in the visitor lot indicated by the guard. The two got out and walked over to a group of office buildings. Checking the listings at the front door, they entered one marked, "Peter Venice, Executive Producer" They walked in the office. A secretary was on the phone. She looked up and smiled, motioning for them to be seated. Placing the receiver down, she asked "Can I help you?"

"We’re Christopher and Rita Lorenzo. Mr. Venice is expecting us."

"Oh, yes, he and Ms. Alexis are waiting for you"

Chris’s face drew into a tight frown as he opened the door and followed Rita inside.

Seated behind a large desk was a middle-aged man. He was talking to a woman sitting on the other side. Her back was turned to Chris and Rita. The man had dark hair that was receding on the sides, making his hairline come to a point in front. His deep tan was accentuated by a white silk shirt. The shirt was obviously expensive, but it looked like it was slept in, wrinkled, with a smudge of cigar ash on the breast pocket monogram. The man looked worse than the shirt. Dark circles stained under his eyes, the whites were bloodshot. The complexion under his tan was an unhealthy shade of gray

"Chris, Rita, darlings, it was so good of you to come." The woman stood to face them. She was an exceptionally beautiful woman, with bone structure that made it difficult to determine her exact age.

Rita hugged the woman. "Anna, its been too long. I’m sorry about the circumstances."

"Hi Anna." Chris gave his mother an awkward hug. "Sorry about Leslie."

Anna’s smile faded for a moment. She hugged her son again and her smile returned. "I can’t believe that anyone would accuse Leslie of murder. She is the most gentle-hearted person I’ve ever known. I’m glad that the two of you are going to help her.

The man rose from behind his desk and extended his hand. "Peter Venice. I’m the producer of "Murder Beat." I’m also a good friend of Leslie and Anna. I agree with Anna. It’s completely impossible for Leslie to have murdered Jared."

"Chris Lorenzo." Chris said as they shook hands. "This is my wife and partner, Rita. We’re here strictly as a favor to Anna. The police are investigating this case."

Rita spoke quickly. "We’ll see if we can help. We would like to talk to the people on the set." She looked at Chris’s solemn face. "Informally, of course."

"I’ll arrange everything." Peter Venice picked up the phone. "Veronica, have Mark Leland come to my office." He place the phone down. "Mark Leland is the Production Coordinator. He’ll bring you to the set and introduce you to everyone. Anything either one of you need, just ask him."

A knock sounded at the door. A young man in his mid twenties walked in. He had a long oval face that bore an open expression and sandy brown hair in need of a trim. He wore what seemed to be the uniform of the day, a wrinkled white shirt. Only the stain on his looked like jelly donut, and the shirt was more inexpensive cotton, instead of silk.

"Mark, this is Chris and Rita Lorenzo. They have been hired by the studio to investigate the murder of Jared. Show them around and please help them with whatever they need."

Chris started to protest, but it was cut off by the younger man

"Pleased to meet you." He pumped Chris’s hand enthusiastically. "All of us are devastated by Jared’s death and Leslie’s arrest. I want to help in any way I can."

Chris glanced over at his mother, then his wife. A look of discomfort flashed on his face, rapidly replaced by one of resolve. "Let’s get to the set. We want to talk to everyone who witnessed the argument between Leslie and Jared."

The young man lead them through the maze of production equipment and scenery to a nearby sound stage. The set was built to resemble someone’s living room. A plaid couch was placed at one end, flanked by two easy chairs. The coffee table was piled high with magazines, two mugs next to them. Several people were milling around, some adjusting lights or cameras, while others were gathered in small groups of two or three, speaking in subdued tones.

Mark Leland called over to a group of people. "Jill, come over here. I have some people I want you to meet." A woman broke away from the group and walked over to where Chris and Rita stood.

"Jill Lewis, our head writer, this is Chris and Rita Lorenzo. There’re investigating Jared’s murder."

The woman stuck out her hand. She was in her mid thirties with delicate facial features, curly light brown hair mid way down her back and wore loose comfortable clothing . She blanched when Mark announced the reason for the couple’s presence.

"Gosh, I can’t believe that Jared is dead. I just saw him yesterday."

"That’s what we want to speak to you about," said Rita "We understand you observed an argument that took place between Jared and Leslie. Can you tell us about it?"

"Well, Leslie and Jared were always arguing about something. I mean, " she rushed on, twisting her hair and staring down at her feet, "They were like brother and sister arguments. Nothing serious. When you spend as much time together as we all do, it can lead to some really petty squabbles. Leslie was mad at something Jared had said in a interview."

"What was that?" inquired Chris

Jill smiled a brief half smile. "He alluded to her age," she smiled fully now. "and he added a few years. Boy, was she angry." Jill’s eyes widened, suddenly realizing what she had just admitted. "I mean, you know, it was really only a spat." She began twisting her hair again.

"Thanks for the information. We’d like to talk to you again later." Rita said.

"Anything I can do to help. I really don’t believe Leslie shot Jared." Jill smiled anxiously. "I’ll be on the set when you need me." She hurried away

"Hard to believe that she is one of the highest paid writers in the business. Her SCRIPTS," he said, emphasizing the word, "are pure gold." Mark smirked. "Let me find the Director, Don Halsey." Scanning the set, he took a few steps and then turned back towards Chris and Rita. "I don’t see him anywhere. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Have a look around while I find him."

The couple nodded. As the Production Coordinator walked away, Rita spoke in a subdued tone, "Doesn’t seem to be a lot of love lost around here. Why don’t we split up and talk to everyone on the set and then compare notes. We also need to go to the jail and talk to Leslie"

Chris winced at the mention of the jail. "I don’t like getting involved in a ongoing investigation. Harry will have our heads for this"

At the mention of their former captain, Rita’s face broke into a broad smile. "Harry will understand. After all, Leslie is a friend of your mother, and we won’t step on any toes."

Chris gave Rita a dubious look. "All right Sam, let’s see if anyone saw anything yesterday." He motioned to the left side of the set. "I’ll start here you take the other side."

The pair split the room, talking to the crew and actors. About thirty minutes later, Mark Leland reappeared and motioned to the duo. "Mr. Halsey can see you now." He led them down the hall to a room where a man in his late fifties stood, bent over a desk so large it filled almost the entire space. He was examining stacks of papers spread over the desk top. Spying Chris and Rita, he took several steps in their direction. His tanned face looked dour. "I want to state right at the top of this interrogation that Leslie McAfee is completely innocent. She did not kill Jared Wilson. Now," he said in a dismissive tone, "will there be anything else?"

Chris’ eyes burned with blue fire. "First," he said in an icy voice "this in NOT an interrogation. My mother, Anna Alexis, is a friend of Leslie McAfee. We are doing this strictly as a favor. Secondly, there is something else. You can tell me where you were when Jared Wilson was shot."

The director straightened up abruptly, his hands clenching the edges of the table, knuckles white. The pencil in his hand snapped. "I was at home." He spoke in a controlled, measured tone. "Alone"

Rita spoke quietly, breaking the tension. "Tell us about the fight between Leslie and Jared."

Looking at Rita, the man gave her a strained smile. "There isn’t much to tell. Jared had given a scathing interview to "Person" magazine. He really downplayed Leslie’s contribution to the show. Hell," he said, rubbing his jaw, "Leslie IS this show. Then Jared made some subtle comments about her being the "grand old lady of television." Then he revealed her age." Halsey looked as if he had suddenly bit into a lemon, "Only he lied. Jared added nine years, taking Leslie from a still youngish forty one to an over the hill fifty. She was livid. No actress wants to be considered old."

"Why would he do that?"

"Most shows are geared to audiences under twenty-five. "Murder Beat" is different. We cut across a wide range of demographics. Young, old, they all watch. And the reason is Leslie. She appeals to everyone. The car chases and action scenes get the men to watch and the women tune in to see a sharp woman that looks like them solve the crime. Jared was window dressing for the teenage set." A look of barely concealed of contempt overtook his face. "He hated that. Jared wanted to be know as an ‘artist’, not the flavor of the week, which was all he was." Don Halsey looked suddenly embarrassed. "I mean, there was a lot of professional respect between the two of them. Leslie could have NEVER killed Jared." His look was almost pleading.

"Did Jared Wilson have any enemies?"

"Everyone in this business has enemies. Particularly if you are under thirty and on the number three rated television show. You step on a lot of toes getting to the top. Jared wasn’t shy about where he put his feet." Halsey looked out the window, then back at Chris and Rita. "We all have people who wait for us to fail, but I can’t think of anyone who would actually kill to get ahead." He gave them a rueful smile. "But then, I’m at the top. Talk to someone still trying to get there. You might get a different story."

"Who would that be?" asked Chris

"There were only three people present when Jared and Leslie had that last fight. Myself, Jill Lewis, and Mark Leland. Jill is the best writer in television, but she’s never really been part of the whole scene. Talk to Mark." His face stiffened. "They had a ... history"

"Hell, yes. Jared and I go way back." Mark Leland’s face flushed a bright red as he raised his voice. "We started out as wanabe actors together. We met at an audition and got to be friends." The production coordinator paced the room in a tense charge, looking like a trapped animal searching for a means of escape.

"We became friends, we even roomed together for a while."

"Why didn’t you tell us this before?" Rita approached him. "Why did you hide it?"

"I... Jared and I parted company about five years ago, and it wasn’t on the best of terms." Mark Leland suddenly became very still.

"Explain it to us." Chris said

"Well, Jared and I were both up for this part. It wasn’t a big part, but it was a great piece. It was going to give someone’s career a huge boost. I auditioned for the part, along with every other actor in New York. I got it." A beautiful smile appeared as

he thought back. "I was on my way. About a week later, I got a call from the show’s producer. They had changed their minds. "Decided to go another way," is how they put it. Imagine my surprise when I found out that Jared was the actor they hired."

Mark began to pace the room again. "I began hearing rumors. After asking around, I found out that Jared had gotten the part by sleeping with the producer." His face hardened. "He got the part by screwing the producer."

"What was her name, the producer’s " asked Rita

"Jacob Sears."

"Jared Wilson was gay?" Chris questioned in surprise.

"No, he was just that ruthless. He would have done anything for that part. I might as well tell you the rest," said Mark in a resigned tone. "I was furious. I went down to Sears’ office and we got into a shoving match. The upshot was that I never got

any work as an actor after that. A year later, I moved to Palm Beach and found a job in the production end of the business. I worked in commercials first, but after making a few contacts, I found some work in television. I was hired for "Murder Beat" before the main characters were cast . When Jared was hired for the role of Leslie’s partner, I was afraid that he would cause problems. He made some minor trouble, but Leslie stuck up for me. She and I had worked on another show before "Murder Beat" and worked well together. I owe my job to Leslie."

Mark Leland looked imploringly at the duo. "Leslie McAfee is the most decent woman in show business. There is nothing you or anyone else could say to convince me that she killed Jared Wilson."

"The question is," Chris asked, " are you a good enough friend to kill Jared for her?"

Mark studied his hands for a moment, then looked at Chris and Rita. "A good friend, yes. But too much of a coward to kill. If I were capable of murdering Jared Wilson, I would have done it along time ago."

"We’ll need to ask you more questions later." said Rita

The production assistant nodded mutely and walked away.

Chris let out a long, slow whistle. "This Wilson character was one twisted dude. It seems like he had more enemies than friends."

"I think you’re right about that," replied Rita "It’s getting late. Why don’t we go home and compare notes. We can visit Leslie in the morning."

Rita picked up a stack of video cassettes sitting on the counter next to her. "I got these from one of the crew. They’re tapes of "Murder Beat" episodes. Let’s watch them and see if we can pick up anything."

Chris grinned. "Tough assignment Sam. I know watching them will be torture for you."

Rita tried to give Chris a stern glance, but failed. "I think we BOTH need to be familiar with the show, if we are going to catch the killer."

Chris hooted, "Come on Sammy, let’s go home."

After dinner, Rita sat on the couch, sipping a glass of red wine. She place a tape in the VCR. "Chris," she called into the kitchen, "you’re going to miss the beginning."

Chris vaulted over the back of the sofa, landing next to his wife. "I don’t think that ‘miss’ is the word I would have used, Sammy." He grinned

"I know that this could never replace Michigan in the Rose Bowl for you, but it might be helpful to the case." Rita sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees. On the television screen Leslie McAfee was sitting in front of a desk. She was speaking to the distinguished businessman who sat behind it. At the same time, she was skillfully reading upside down the confidential report he had in front of him.

"Hey, I can do that." Rita exclaimed.

Chris leaned forward and began to nuzzled her neck, slowly pulling down the zipper of her dress so he could followed it with a string of kisses.

Rita fought the distraction, making several halfhearted swats at Chris over her shoulder, but he playfully grabbed her hand and placed one of her fingers in his mouth. He sucked it gently and then turned over her palm and kissed it.

"Who would have ever thought a middle-aged detective could be such a turn on," murmured Chris into Rita’s ear. He nibbled gently at her lobe.

Rita turned, her face a fraction away from his. "I hope you say that about me in about twenty years." She kissed him, the television now forgotten.

Chris smiled. "Think how good we’ll be at this," he said kissing her, his tongue slowly discovering her mouth. "and this" sliding his hands under her dress, running them along her thighs. "And this", slipping his hands under her bra, slowly brushing her nipples, which hardened instantly to his touch. "Think how good we’ll be at this after twenty years of practice." He gently pushed Rita down onto the couch, lowering himself on top of her as he urged her dress over her thighs.

Rita smiled playfully, adding in a husky voice, "We’ll be two very sexy middle- aged detectives."

Chris responded by kissing gently at the corners of her upturned mouth - first one side then the other. Kissing her deeply, his tongue probing her lips apart. Rita answered with a moan and slid the dress over her head.

Chris quickly unbuttoned his shirt as Rita helped him slide off his jeans. Tenderly easing her legs apart, he brushed the inside of her thighs with his hand. Rita arched up to meet him, the heat melted the distance between them as they made love with a passion ignited by love and desire.

"Sam" Rita murmured, nestling in the hollow of her husband’s shoulder. "Sam, do you ever think what our life would have been like if we never crossed the line?" She kissed his shoulder as she ran her fingers lightly down his chest. "What if we stayed partners, and nothing else?"

Chris gathered Rita into his arms and looked at her with his clear blue eyes. He was slightly surprised to hear his voice, he wasn’t sure that he could put what was in his heart into words

"Rita, it would have never turned out any differently. We were destined to be together. I’ve often thought about how our lives have brought us to where we are now. No one else could have my heart but you."

Rita placed her head on his chest and listened to his slow, strong heart beat.

Quietly she shifted her body on top of his. Kissing him, she slid slowly downward until she was sitting in his lap. They began to make love again, more tenderly than before, but with the same desire.

Later, Chris lay with the sleeping Rita in his arms. Gently, he gathered her and carried her to their bedroom. He place her on the bed and slipped beneath the sheets to join her. "Heart and soul, Rita, I love you." he whispered, and drifted off to sleep.

The glass doors were decorated with iron renditions of palm trees. Smiles crept over both their faces as Chris pushed them open. The soft tapping of computer keys was background music to a variety of voices. Officers in blue uniforms went in and out of the room. The couple surveyed the squad room. Their reminiscence was halted by a single voice.

"Slumming, are we?" Harry Lipschitz stood framed in the open doorway of his office. He peered over the top of his black framed glasses at his two former detectives. "It seems," he announced dryly to the entire squad room, "that Lance and Lorenzo are too successful to visit their former place of employment." A smile slowly overtook his face. "Chris, Rita, it’s good to see you !"

Rita walked over and hugged him. "Good to see you too, Harry."

Chris pumped his hand "How’s it going Cap?"

Harry shrugged. "The same, the same. Too much sunshine, too much humidity and too much crime." He smiled again. "The only thing that’s easier is that I don’t have two of the biggest pain-in-the-ass detectives around any more making my days a lifelong case of heartburn." He clapped Chris on the back. "How is my wonderful godson?"

"Great Cap. You and Frannie have got to visit him soon. It’s been almost a month."

"I know, I know. Frannie took up knitting. She’s done about twenty pairs of booties for him. I keep telling her, "Frannie, for god’s sakes, this is Palm Beach, nobody needs booties. She just gets all teary eyed and starts to tell me how CJ is growing up without his Aunt Frannie." Harry rolled his eyes and smiled. "God, how I love that woman."

Rita laughed. "We love her too, Cap."

Harry became serious. "I know that you both aren’t here for a stroll down memory lane. I heard that you are investigating the Jared Wilson case."

Chris gaped at Harry with a look of surprise.

"What, Lorenzo, you think that the two of you are only ones that were ever detectives? Listen, the case against Leslie McAfee is pretty strong. George is getting ready to indict."

"Cap" said Rita, "we’d like to see Leslie McAfee. We promise not to step on any toes."

Peering over the top of his glasses again, Harry said, "THAT would be a first. Go ahead. You better talk to George first. See if he’ll share what he’s got on her."

Rita tapped on the frosted glass door outside George Donovan’s office. "Come in," came a voice from the other side.

Seated behind a desk was the District Attorney for Palm Beach. Looking up from a sheaf of papers, George appeared taken aback for a moment. He stood up, grinning, and walked around to greet them.

"Rita, as beautiful as ever," he said as he hugged her. "Lorenzo, still the undeserving spouse?" George slapped him on the back. "What brings you two down to the shop?"

"George, we’re here about the Jared Wilson case. Leslie McAfee is an old friend of Chris’ mother. We hear that you are ready to indict for murder."

Donavon let out a long slow breath. "Tough luck for your friend. Our case is air tight. She was seen arguing with the defendant a few hours before his death. She was heard threatening him and she has no alibi for his time of death."

"Still seems a little light, George," said Chris

"I haven’t told you the worst. A gun found at the murder scene was registered to Leslie McAfee. It had been recently fired, and the bullets in the gun matched the ones in Wilson’s chest." George rubbed his chin. "The only prints on the gun were Leslie

McAfee’s . Sorry guys."

"George, can we see the police reports?"

Donovan abruptly moved to the door. "Do either of you want coffee? I’m going to get coffee. I’ll be gone about ten minutes." He gave them both a long look. "While I’m gone, I don’t want either of you to look at the report on my desk." He motioned toward a stack of papers. "Upper left hand corner."

George turned the handle and stepped through the doorway. As he shut the door behind him, he called out. "My official position on the leak of the police report is that I’m

thoroughly outraged." The door closed.

Chris and Rita quickly retreated behind the desk. They read the police report on the Wilson slaying, making a few notes.

"It’s pretty cut and dried," said Rita

"It doesn’t look good for Leslie, that’s for sure." responded Chris

George Donovan returned to his office, holding a cup of coffee. Swirling the last few sips in the bottom of the cup, he took a drink and set the empty mug next to the report. "We’re charging her with first degree murder in the morning. She needs a couple of good detectives on her side." He ran his hand over his hair and grimaced. "Hell, she needs a miracle." He scrutinized the pair. " I hope you two are it."

"We hope so too, George" murmured Chris. "We hope so too."

Chris and Rita walked down the long cinder block hall to the visitor’s room. They sat down at a plain wooden table. A female guard opened the door and ushered in Leslie McAfee. She was a pleasant looking woman, rather on the short side, with light brown hair and a few pounds over the actress norm. She appeared both younger and older that her forty two years. Her youthful face was pale, her cheeks were splotched and red. Darkened under her eyes was the evidence of more than a few sleepless nights.

"Hi, I’m Chris Lorenzo, and this is my wife, Rita. Anna Alexis is my mother. "

Leslie McAfee attempted a smile. "Anna told me that she would send you. Thank you for helping me. I.." There was a catch in her voice. "I didn’t kill Jared Wilson." She looked down, wringing her hands and continued. "The part that scares me is that I can’t imagine who would. I don’t know how to begin to help you find the real killer." She looked directly into Chris’ eyes, pleading. "I’m afraid that the only one you’ll find to blame is me."

"Leslie, tell us about the fight you had with Wilson." coaxed Rita

"Jared Wilson wasn’t a very nice man. He was pushy and had a monumental ego for someone with his limited range as an actor. But," Leslie’s mouth twisted into a wry grin. "He was gorgeous. He was getting very popular with the under twenty set, and he used that. He was trying to get me pushed out of the show. He was constantly buttering up the writers in order to get more lines, while using some less than subtle put-downs to portray me as washed up. I’m sure you heard about his comments in "Person" magazine." Leslie traced a scratch in the desk with her index finger. "That was the final straw. I blew up and we ended up screaming at each other in front of everyone on the sound stage. I said some vicious things." Tears appeared in her eyes. "I threatened him, but I didn’t kill him."

"Did anyone else see the argument besides Don Halsey, Mark Leland and Jill Lewis?"

"No, the crew just broke for lunch and we were the only ones left on the set."

She began to pace the small area of the waiting room. "Mark and Jared knew each other before the series began, but as far as I know, neither Don or Jill had met him prior to the beginning of the show. None of us had much to do with him, it was a business relationship. Who could have done this?" She looked desperately at the couple. "Could it have been a jilted lover?" I don’t want to believe that it’s someone I know."

Chris and Rita wordlessly looked at each other.

"We’ll be back soon, Leslie. We’re going to look around. Call us if you think of anything." Rita handed the woman her business card "Try to keep your spirits up," she said, smiling at the older woman.

The pair walked out of the jail, pensive looks on both faces.

"This is all too pat," said Chris. He and Rita walked to the parking lot and got into their car.

"I was thinking the same thing," said Rita. "A writer couldn’t have done any better. Everything points to Leslie."

"Everything points to Leslie," repeated Chris, staring at the stop light, without seeing that it had turned from red to green. A car behind him honked its horn.

"Chris, the light’s green. Chris...." Rita lightly nudged his shoulder.

Chris winced and shook his head. He accelerated the car through the intersection and pulled over along the curb.

"Rita, all of the people involved are in television. It’s their job to make fantasy look convincing. I think that we need to seriously look at the three who witnessed Leslie and Jared’s argument. I also think we should begin with Mark Leland."

"I agree with you," said Rita. "I’m finding it hard to swallow that all was forgiven between those two. And derailing a career would be tough to excuse."

"It also would be tough to watch the guy that destroyed your career make it big-at ten times your salary." Chris started the car and pulled into traffic.

Chris unlocked the front door. "Hey, CJ buddy, we’re home."

Anna Alexis walked into the entryway, holding their son. "I let the sitter go early." She looked down at the sleeping child "I wanted to spend time with my grandson."

Rita and Chris looked at each other. Rita spoke, "Anna, please stay and have dinner with us."

Both women glanced at Chris. "I was just about to ask you myself." He smiled at both women and took the sleeping boy from his mother’s arms. "Let me put this big boy to bed and I’ll join you.

The three sat around the table after dinner was over . Rita poured coffee and then retreated to the kitchen, giving some private time to Chris and Anna.

"Anna, " said Chris, looking into the bottom of his cup, "things don’t look very good for Leslie"

A frown creased the smooth features on the older woman’s face. Capturing his hands in hers, she said "Christopher, I know that you and Rita will do everything in your power to help Leslie." Speaking with a sudden ferocity, she gripped his hands tighter. "She didn’t do it, she couldn’t do it!"

Coffee sloshed out of her nearby cup. A splash of steaming dark liquid spilled onto her arm. Giving a small cry of pain, she ran from the table, tears forming in her eyes.

"She wasn’t crying because of a burn, Sam" said Rita explained as she returned to the table. Sitting next to Chris, she picked up a napkin and mopped up the spill. "Leslie is her friend. We’ve got to continue our investigation."

"I know, Rita, but I’m afraid that if we do continue, the only thing that we will find is more evidence that points to Leslie being guilty."

"Let’s think about this again, Sam. Who else has a motive for killing Jarred Wilson."

Chris leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. A defeated look washed over his features.

"Mark Leland has a reason, but my gut’s beginning to tell me he’s not the murderer. An obvious choice on the surface, but once you look deeper, everything falls apart. It’s been over ten years since Leland lost that part, and he and Wilson have worked on "Murder Beat" for over three years. It makes no sense for him to kill Wilson now."

Rita wrapped her arms around Chris’ shoulders and gently massaged his neck.

"I think that you’re right about Mark Leland, but what about the other two? From our first encounter with Don Halsey, I’d say that the man has a temper. I wonder how close to the surface it runs?"

Anna returned to the dinning room. Her eyes were rimmed with red, her face pallid. She rejoined Rita and Chris at the table. Taking a long draw from her coffee mug, she grimaced.

"Cold," she announced.

Rita began to get up from the table.

"No, Rita, thank you, but I don’t want more coffee. I want to tell you both how much I appreciate what you are doing for Leslie," she paused, "and for me. I know that you are both working very hard at this. We have complete faith in you. I know that you will find the real killer."

"Anna," Chris said, taking her hand in his, "Rita and I won’t give up. We won’t let you down."

"Anna," urged Rita "Maybe you can help us. Tell us what you know about Don Halsey."

"Well, I’ve worked with Don on two or three productions, all early on in my career. He was a bit , um..." she struggled to find a word, "difficult. And that was twenty years ago. From all reports, he hasn’t changed. " A humorless smile appeared on her face. "Don is a very powerful producer, who has enjoyed a fair amount of success in television. Taking other people or their feelings into consideration was not the way he made it to the top.

Anna closed her eyes, sadness overwhelming her for a moment. "Don Halsey is not a man to suffer in silence." Opening them again, she looked from Chris to Rita. "He would not be content to just deter someone that was in his way. He wouldn’t stop until he destroyed them. Anna’s lips drew into a thin, tight line. "Please be careful."

She stood up. "I think that it’s time for me to return to the hotel." Smiling wanly, her face revealed exhaustion. "I’d like to spend some time tomorrow with CJ. Could I pick him up at lunch time, and take him to the zoo?"

"Sure, that would be great," said Chris "Let me drive you back to the Plaza."

"No, I’ve already phoned for a cab."

A horn sounded outside the door. "I’ll phone in the morning." Anna hugged them both and slipped outside to the waiting cab.

Watching the taxi pull away from the front door, Chris and Rita retreated into the living room. "Rita," Chris began. The ringing of the phone interrupted him.

"Lorenzo," Chris barked into the phone. His face creased into a scowl. He made a few notes on a nearby piece of paper and then quietly placed the phone back onto the receiver. "That was George. Don Halsey was just found dead. It looks like a heart attack."

"Well," said Rita softly, "this changes things. Who found him?"

"An assistant stopped by to his office to deliver some updated scripts and found him sitting at the table. It looked like he had already been dead a few hours. Chris paced the length of the room. "Sam," Chris inquired, "did Halsey strike you as the type to have heart trouble?"

"He looks more like the type that GAVE it," voiced Rita, her expression grim. "But in all truth, he seemed like a very driven, type A person, so a heart attack isn’t totally unexpected. Why?"

" I can’t help but think that we are looking at this the wrong way, that the truth in this lies in an entirely different direction." Total exhaustion crossed his face. "The coroner is doing an autopsy, so at least we’ll get a confirmed cause of death. I just have this nagging feeling we are way off base on who the murderer really is. We need to roll up all the facts and give them another look."

"The list of suspects is down to two. Mark Leland looks better than good for this." Rita turned. "Chris...."

"I’m reading your mind, Sam. We need to see what more we can find out about Leslie McAfee.

Mark Leland watched Chris and Rita walk onto the set of ‘Murder Beat’. Struggling to maintain an emotionless expression, the twitch of his jaw gave him away. "Detectives," he hurried toward them, hand outstretched, "are you back with any news? Do you know who was responsible for," he dropped his voice a decibel, "the murder of Jared Wilson?"

"We’d like to ask you a few more questions," said Chris. He was interrupted by the ringing of his cellular phone. As he answered it, Rita resumed the questioning.

"Does Leslie McAfee have any enemies that you know of?"

Mark Leland’s jaw dropped in surprise. "Leslie? No, not Leslie. She’s a sweetheart. Everyone loves her."

Chris flipped up the receiver to his phone. "That was the M.E. Don Halsey didn’t die of a heart attack. He was murdered. Seems someone put poison in his coffee." Chris turned to Mark. "Who was in charge of getting Halsey his coffee?"

Mark Leland sank down in a nearby chair. He slumped his head into his shaking hands. "While he’s on the set, that would be me. Listen," his voice carrying all the tension that showed on his face. " I didn’t kill Jared Wilson and I didn’t kill Don Halsey. I didn’t have anything to gain."

"Revenge seems like a pretty good motive to me. Jared Wilson finished your career as an actor, and it didn’t seem Don Haley was never going to let you rise above an assistant. People have killed for a lot less."

"Look, talk to Leslie. Talk to anyone. They’ll tell you I’m not a murderer."

Chris and Rita walked toward the front door of the studio. As they made their way down the hall, they passed the writer’s office for Murder Beat. In the small, cramped room, Jill Lewis sat at in front of a computer. The light from the screen cast her face a sickly shade of gray.

"Detectives," Jill spoke, slightly breathless as she rushed out from her office. "Any word on the murders of Jared and Don?"

"We haven’t found any solid leads yet. We’re on our way to talk to Leslie again." Rita said

"Well, give her a message for me. Tell Leslie that I’m on her side. A woman as smart as Katy Bauer would never get caught murdering someone." The slight woman flushed. "Thanks" she tossed over her shoulder as she rushed back to her computer.

"Katy Bauer?" Chris turned toward his wife. "Who is Katy Bauer?"

"Katy Bauer is the name of the character the Leslie plays on Murder Beat. Sergeant Katy Bauer, of the Miami Homicide division." Rita stared after the woman. "What an odd way to put things."

"She seems odd, to say the least." Chris gently propelled Rita by her elbow. "Come on, lets go see Leslie" They hurried out the door and toward their car.

Leslie McAfee was definitely not adjusting to prison life. She was ashen and the spark of life in her appeared to have been extinguished. Walking into the interrogation room took almost all the energy she possessed. Slipping into the gray metal chair, she all but disappeared, seeming to be the same color as the furniture.

"Chris, Rita. I heard the news about Don. He was a tough man to work for. I’m not surprised that he had a heart attack." She paused. "Any news about Jared’s murder?

"Leslie." Rita spoke softly to the woman. "Don didn’t die of a heart attack. He was murdered. Poisoned."

For a moment, the investigators thought the woman across the table from them was going to faint. Impossibly, she turned paler and began to sway. Rita pushed back her chair to go to her.

No, I’m all right." Leslie sat up straight, regaining a little of her color. "This is terrible. Don wasn’t the most lovable man in television, but he didn’t deserve to die." Tears began to roll down her cheeks. "Now will they believe that I’m not responsible for Jared’s death?"

"Leslie, we need to ask you about any enemies that you may have." Rita spoke is a soft, reassuring voice. "Can you think of anyone?"

"No, really, I can’t think of anyone. I’ve been lucky in this business. I’ve made a lot of friends, but no real enemies." A look of horror appeared on the woman’s face. "Do you think that I’m the reason that Jared was killed? Don? Oh my! You must be wrong."

The couple looked silently at each other before Chris spoke. "We need to look at everyone. Tell us more about Mark Leland."

"Mark is an anomaly in show business. He’s bright, hard working and too nice to ever get very far. He’s not willing to push back when he’s pushed." A look of discomfort flickered across Leslie’s face. "He’s had several hard knocks and he just takes the punches. Even Jill Lewis could get what she wanted from him."

"What about Jill Lewis? What can you tell us about her?" Chris asked.

"Not much. She’s quiet, not part of the team really. She takes her writing very seriously, it’s her whole life. It’s really too bad. She’s never really received the recognition she deserves. Writers are a big part of any show’s success, but Jill never got any credit. It all went to me, Jared and Don.

Chairs were hurriedly pushed back. The detective couple rushed to the door. "We need to follow up on something." Rita called out to Leslie. " We’ll be back to see you soon." The pair raced out of the room.

"It all makes sense." Chris said to Rita as they drove along Beach Road, on their way back to the TV station. "Everyone is either dead or accused of murder, except for Jill Lewis. She’s stacked the deck to be the only one left standing when this all ends. "

"Something she said struck a false note, and now it’s finally occurred to me what it was. When we saw Jill outside her office, she asked about if we knew who murdered Jared Wilson and Don Halsey. But you had gotten the report directly from the M.E. just a few minutes before that. No one but the two of us and Mark Leland knew the results of the autopsy." Rita frowned. "No one but the murderer.

Chris let out a long slow whistle. "I wonder why she did all this?"

"I’m not sure," Rita replied, " but I think that it has something to do with what Leslie said. She was the one that wrote the show, but everyone else got all the credit for it’s success."

"It must have just eaten away at her all these years." Chris turned onto the lot of the studio. "She just finally snapped."

The pair made their way through the maze of sound stages toward the back lot. As they approached the block of offices that housed the writers, Chris suddenly stopped and motioned to Rita. The door to Jill Lewis’s office was open, and the writer was standing inside, screaming at Mark Leland. As her hysterics elevated, she tightened her grip on the gun in her hand, the gun leveled at Mark Leland’s chest.

"You miserable bastard! How dare you! You’re just like all the rest. I won’t let anyone tell me how to write this show. Jared Wilson tried to get me to make his character more important, and cut out Katy’s scenes." Her eyes narrowed as she spat, "So I killed him. And I used Katy’s gun to do it." The anger left her face for a moment, as she seemed to enjoy a private joke. "Don Halsey tried to tell me that he wasn’t going to renew the show. That arrogant son of a bitch. The highest rated show for the network and he tells me that it was getting tired. So I killed him too."

The writer raised the gun. "And now you. You come here and tell me that the show is canceled. You don’t understand, none of you did. Katy Bauer is smarter than all of you. She will live on." Jill took closer aim at the Production Assistant’s heart. "Too bad you won’t be around to see it."

"No!" Rita screamed.

Jill Lewis swung around, pointing the pistol first at Rita, and then back at Mark before turning to Chris. In the fraction of a second it took her to move her aim from Mark to Chris, Chris fired the gun in his hand.

The kick of the bullet knocked the woman backwards, on to the ground. Rita ran toward her, gun drawn. She cautiously leaned over, placing her fingertips on the woman’s neck. She shook her head and walked over to the two men.

"She’s dead."

Chris put his arm around Rita and held her tightly. "You okay Sammy?" Rita nodded faintly, staring at the dead writer. Chris turned . "I better go call it in."

Rita looked at Mark Leland. He was staring at the body of Jill Lewis, tears slowly sliding down his face.

"Why did she do it? This is a like a nightmare. This can’t be real." His breathing was coming fast and hard.

"You better sit down." Rita guided him towards a chair. "Jill Lewis was a ill woman. She lost touch with the reality a long time ago. She was living in a world that she created."

Mark began to cry in earnest as Chris returned, followed by a pair of uniformed officers.

Chris and Rita walked out of the police station with Anna and Leslie McAfee. The drawn look on Leslie’s face had been replaced with a broad smile.

"I don’t know how to thank you. The two of you saved my life." Leslie McAfee grasped Rita’s hand tightly in hers.

"That goes for me too," said Anna as she tucked her arm into the crook of her son’s.

Rita tucked her hand in Anna’s other arm. "We’re just glad that everything turned out all right.