Page 33 of Evidence of a Folktale

“I have Gold helping elsewhere,” Griffin said, aiming for his truck, and Bel opened her mouth to ask if her partner had requested that they be separated, but her boss cut her off before she could speak.

“I hope you don’t mind since you’re friends, but we’re stretched too thin to have you both running down every lead together. Plus…” he glanced at her as if decidingif he shouldadmit the truth. “Don’t yell at me, but I want to keep an eye on you.”

Bel laughed as she slipped into the passenger seat. “Did you and Eamon meet and designate shifts?” she teased.

“No… but we should,” her boss teased back. “Oddly enough, I’m generally wary of your boyfriend, but when it comes to your life, he’s the only person besides myself, your dog, and your father that I trust with your safety. He’s repeatedly proven that you come first… even before the law.”

“Not everyone is perfect.” Bel shrugged. “And he’ll be glad that you want to follow me around. Christmas break was… tough for us. I scared him.”

“Emerson, you scared us all. I was terrified when Abel kidnapped you and Gold, but seeing your body double on the slab? You were dead.” Her boss twisted as if he were checking the road for traffic, and Bel played along, both of them knowing the movement was to hide the tears threatening his eyes. “It’s why I want to work this case with you. I need proof you didn’t die on my watch.”

“Okay, now Ireallythink you and Eamon got together for a chat.”

“Maybe we should if it’ll stop you from scaring us.”

Thirty minutesanda few gentle police badge threatslater, Bel and Griffin sat in Bajka’s Bed-and-Breakfast dining room with the producers, Evelyn Pierce and Alistair Rot.

“Anyone on set could technically access our costumes and props,” Miss Pierce said. “Our entire show revolves around creatures and murders. Custom works appear in every episode, so it isn’t hard to steal prop weapons. We use different types based on the scene’s requirements. Rubberforwhen actors need to wield them. Bladeless for fight scenes. They’re just handles, and we digitally add blades in post-production. Then there are the real deals for close-ups. Those, along with some creature suits, could be deadly… although I can’t think of any reason a crew member would want to murder Miss Rossa. Her scripts are well-received by the public. This show has created steady work for everyone involved, so killing her wouldn’t be in anyone’s best interest.”

“So to confirm, almost anyone on set could access the custom weapons and costumes?” Griffin asked, and when Evelyn nodded, he continued. “Have you noticed any props go missing recently?”

“Props disappear all the time,” Alistair Rot chimed in. “Actors and crew members love their souvenirs. And even if they weren’t stealing them, a set is the best example of controlled chaos. There’s a fine line between making art and meeting deadlines, and it’s hard enough finishing a season, let alone keeping track of every item that may or may not have gone missing.”

“Even if that missing item becomes a murder weapon?” Bel asked, and she could tell bythe wayMr. Rot stiffened he disliked that she kept challenging him.

“We don’t make murder weapons on purpose,” Evelyn said.

“Technically you do,” Bel said. “Your entire show revolves around murder.”

“Fictional murders, Detective. Our crew makes props, not weapons. Now, if someone used a prop for a reason other than its intended use, I’m unaware, but I doubt it. We’re all committed to making Aesop’s Files a success.”

“Regardless of your intentions, can we have the names of the art department’s crew members?” Griffin asked. “We’ll need to talk to them.”

“Yes, of course. What email should I send the contacts to?” Evelyn glanced up expectantly as she sat with her phone poised at the ready, and Bel didn’t miss the way every fiber of Alistair’s body protested her willingness to help. She studied the producer as his colleague typed the art departments’ names, and while he said nothing with his voice, his eyes spoke volumes. He didn’t want them digging, which meant they were on the right track.

“Hello? Anyone in here?”Griffin called as he and Bel climbed into the production trailer.

“Hi, can I help you?” A woman emerged from behind one of the many clothing racks vomiting color and fabric over every inch of available space. “Sheriff? Is something wrong?”

“I’m looking for the costume designer, Ellery Roja,” he answered.

“That’s me,” she said.

“Miss Roja, I’m Sheriff Griffin, and this is Detective Emerson. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?”

“I guess not.” She scanned her surroundings. “As long as you don’t mind if I work while we talk.”

“Not at all,” he said as they followed the woman to her sewing machine.

“Thanks. We have a decent-sized cast, and both Beau and Taron needmultiplesof the same outfit for their fight scenes. First is the clean version, then the dirty version of the same outfit as the struggle progresses, and a destroyed version for the end. Plus, many of our creatures are achieved with makeup, practical effects, and costuming—which I’ve won awards for—so I can’t afford to take a break… ever.”

“We won’t take up too much of your time,” Griffin said. “Do you recognize this?” He showed her a photo of Gwen Rossa’s red cloak.

“Um… no,” she said. “We haven’t had a character wear a crimson hood.”

“How long have you been the costume designer?” Bel asked. So much for their theory that the killer was mimicking a specific episode.

“Since season one,” Ellery answered. “Back then, it was just me. Now I work withan entireteam of seamstresses, leather cutters, metal workers, jewelry designers—you name it.”

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