Wilmington, NC 05 - Murder On The ICW

why she dropped him. He'd moved to Wilmington from Los Angeles where he'd been the executive vice president of programming at HBO. He'd wanted out, he told us, wanted his own production company, and he built one too, and successfully, starting with the overnight sensation, Dolphin's Cove, getting it into production when no one else believed a series about a group of high school seniors could succeed. The others were wrong. The series had run for three years, actually rather remarkable for the fickle television industry. After L.A. and New York, Wilmington ranks third in the nation for the production of movies -- and television shows, like the long running Matlock series that had been produced and filmed here as well."Ashley , hi! Long time and all that. I take it there is a purpose for this call," Cam said pleasantly.
    Cam and I always had seen eye to eye, we'd shared an unspoken vow to look after Melanie.
    "I assume you do not have the television news on," I said.
    His voice grew alert and tense. "No. What's happened?"
    I told him the bad news.
    "Where are they taking her?"
    I told him the Detective Division at Fourth and Princess.
    "Okay, I'll meet you at there. I'm on my way, Ashley."
    He was gone.
    Jon called then. "I saw the whole thing on TV. Where are you, Ashley? Are you okay?"
    "I'm almost downtown." I gave him directions. "I'm meeting Walt Brice there. And Cam Jordan."
    "And me," he said. "I'm not far behind you. Wait for me there. Melanie will have Walt and Cam. But you, you'll need me. I'll be right there. Don't go inside until I arrive. I'm taking care of you."
    Dear, sweet Jon. What would I ever do without him? Then I realized that I didn't have to ever be without him. Nick, for all the pain he was causing me, was setting me free. Free to find the love I needed.
    Hurry, Jon, I whispered to myself after we ended our call.

6

    "I want to know exactly what happened," I told Melanie. "Tell me everything and no embellishments, please."
    It was late Friday afternoon and we were in the master bedroom of Melanie's comfortable ranch house on Sandpiper Cove. She was in bed, resting from her ordeal.
    And fuming. "When I get through with the judicial system in this town, they will be sorry they ever heard the name Melanie Wilkes," she declared. "Can you imagine? Holding me in lock-up over night! If Daddy were alive, they'd never treat me this way. He'd have their heads. I am boiling over with rage at this miscarriage of justice! While they are fixated on me, the real killer is out there, walking around, getting away with murder!"
    Melanie's arrest on Thursday and her arraignment early Friday morning had the TV journalists quivering with excitement. The Star-News had devoted a double spread to the murder of Joey Fielding and Melanie's subsequent arrest for that murder while news of the skeleton we'd unearthed at the hunting lodge was buried on a back page. On TV the talking heads were going on and on about Joey Fielding's star status when he'd acted on the popular, long-running Dolphin's Cove hit television series.
    "And let's not forget I've lost Joey," Melanie wailed. "That gorgeous, sexy hunk of a man is dead! What a waste."
    "But why do the police think you killed him, is what I want to know," I said.
    Melanie let out a groan and plopped back on the pillows. The ice pack she'd been holding to her forehead slipped down onto the satin coverlet.
    "Because they're all idiots!" she exclaimed. "That's why."
    "Okay, start at the beginning and tell me what happened."
    But Melanie was not through venting. "You can't imagine how disgusting that jail cell was. Talk about dirty. And no privacy. Oh, someone is going to pay for doing this to me."
    "Why don't I get you a glass of wine," I suggested. "Maybe that will help you to relax."
    "There's a nice bottle of Pinot Grigio in the wine cooler," she replied, accepting my suggestion.
    I left her adjusting the straps on her silk nightgown. "Ashley," she called after me, " bring the whole bottle. It's going to be one of those nights."
    Crossing Melanie's serene living room-dining room, done in pale taupes and ivories with soft touches of peach and aqua, I recalled happier days. How we'd decorated these rooms together right after Melanie purchased the house the first summer I was home from New York and Parsons School of Design. We'd had so much fun shopping for the wonderful art deco pieces that blended marvelously with the fat Thirties-style Tuxedo sofas and club chairs. And