“Nothing was found, not a drop of blood, nothing. She didn’t have a speck of flesh beneath her nails.”
“He knows how he can be caught,” Arnie said. “I imagine he has a deep-seated hatred for women, but he hides it with charisma. There’s something very personal about his feelings—he goes into overkill. Someone this organized probably appears to be a respectably functioning member of the community.”
“But he’s supposed to make a mistake somewhere along the line, right?” Sean inquired with a touch of bitterness.
Arnie looked at him. “I’m sorry to say that some of these killers have apparently walked away from their crimes. The Seattle murders have never been solved, there are high-profile cases in California… look how long Bundy got away with murder, how many states he traveled, how many years he killed before he was brought to justice.”
“We’re talking about my life here, Arnie. I have to find this killer, or spend my life with people looking at me, pointing… thinking I’m guilty.”
“You know the truth.”
“Yes, but how do you inflict that kind of life on anyone else, Arnie?”
Arnie shrugged. “If a killer won’t trip himself up, you can try to give him a little nudge.”
“I don’t know who the killer is.”
“But you do have a theory that goes back to Mandy’s death… one of your old friends, your good old boys, is a killer. Start talking to them. Find out who has alibis for when. Find out who had a thing on Mandy Olin and—”
“And?”
“On you. But be careful. If you push too hard…”
“What?”
Arnie smiled grimly. “Obviously. He’ll push back. You want him to make a mistake. Just don’t let that mistake be you.”
* * *
Sean hadn’t waited for her. Lori found a note at her house; he’d gone to Palm Beach, he didn’t know when he’d be back, she should stay with her parents.
She walked up the stairs to the small tower at the back of the house and surveyed her surroundings. She loved the lush foliage, the pretty old houses, some of them renovated, some of them ladies of fading grandeur. She was glad to have come home. Gramps was right, she’d lived a lie too long, and she wanted a life with Sean. He seemed to think that someone they knew might be involved in the murders. The same someone who had killed Mandy.
She stood. She probably would spend the night at her folks house, but she could go later. She went to her desk for paper and a pen, sat down, and started writing out a list. Who had been there that day? Ricky Garcia, Ted Larson. Brad. Sean. Her cousin, Josh, her brother, Andrew, and Sean’s brother, Michael. Ricky and Ted had become cops. Did that exonerate them? No. There were cases of bad cops. Josh, Jeff, and Brad, were attorneys. Did that make them killers? Sharks, according to some, but killers? Then there was Andrew. Her brother. Making porno movies, resenting every minute of it.
No, her brother wasn’t a killer. She scratched out his name. She refused to accept such a concept.
No! Don’t. If you’re making a list, you have to make a list! she chastised herself. She wrote down his name again.
That left Michael. Sean’s brother. Working with marine mammals and fish, trying to cure cancer. Gentle, decent. Couldn’t be.
But their mother had left them. He might well resent other women. And Mandy Olin had been running around on his brother, acting cruelly, hurting Sean, embarrassing them all. And what had happened with Mandy had nearly destroyed his family, it had killed his father.
All the same things could be said of Sean.
And Brad, bless him, wanted his ex-wife to engage in a ménage a trois!
She laid her forehead down on the desk. There was Jeff Olin. An attorney, one of those ruthless sharks.
Jeff. Mandy’s brother. And Ellie had been her best friend.
Ricky dealt with homicide every day. He’d know how to get away with murder. Ted had been inside Sue’s house. Ted had been the one to tell them that her purse and bag were gone…
She groaned softly. There had to be a way to prove Sean innocent without indicting her other friends.
She sat up again. Okay, so she didn’t want to put her own brother’s name on a list. Why not start by eliminating him? She picked up the phone and dialed Andrew’s number. An answering service picked up. When Lori said it was a personal call, the woman said that she’d have Andrew call back. Frustrated, Lori stared at the phone. She called again and put on a soft Southern accent. “Hi, honey, I’m trying to reach Mr. Kelly about today’s shoot? I seem to have lost the address.”
“They’re filming on the Beach.”
Bingo. South Beach.
“Do you have that exact address?”
The woman gave it to her. Lori started out of the house. She saw a car driving up and frowned, then realized that it was Jeff Olin. He swung into her drive. What the hell, she could start with Jeff.
“Hey, Lori. Heading out?”
“Errands. I’m supposed to start teaching Thursday. But I have a few minutes. Want some coffee, a soda, lunch? What brings you by?”
“Coffee would be great. Actually, I came by to see Sean. Is he here?”
“No, but he might be back any minute. I really can’t say.” She wasn’t sure why she lied; she just didn’t trust anybody at the moment.
“Is Sean okay?” Jeff asked as they walked inside and through to the kitchen.
“Yeah, he’s all right.”
“He has to be upset. You don’t have to bother with coffee, Lori. I thought it might be made.”
“No, it’s fine. It only takes a second.” She measured out coffee, smiling at him. “So how is the law these days?”
“The law is a beautiful thing.”
“Because it protects the innocent?”
“Because it makes me a lot of money,” he said, grinning. “Did your son go to school today?”
“Yes.” It suddenly occurred to Lori that if she really thought there was a murderer among her friends it probably wasn’t such a smart idea to quiz one of them in her house alone. “I think he’ll be home about now, too.”
“No, the school kids won’t be out for several hours,” Jeff said, looking at his watch. “I wonder how long I can wait for Sean.”
“Well, the coffee is ready,” Lori told him. “Drink it, and we’ll see if he comes.”
“Join me?”
“Of course.” She poured herself a cup and sat with him.
“How is he, really?”
“Sean?”
“Yeah.”
“Angry, I think.”
“More upset than he’s willing to say.”
“Well, it is an awful accusation.”
“I seriously think he should sue the reporter and the newspaper. Sheer speculation. They could damage him personally and professionally. He shouldn’t let some little hot shot, trying to make a name for herself, get away with something like this.”
“I’m sure he’s glad that you feel that way.”
“I’ve always liked Sean. My folks didn’t care for him—they thought that he corrupted Mandy. They didn’t understand the strong will of a teenage girl.”
“I hope the reporter doesn’t know that.”
“No one knew—except your parents, Brad’s parents… the others. And they closed ranks tighter than the military when other people started questioning them. I’ve been thinking about making some kind of a statement, about the fact that I know Sean would never have killed my sister. I’m trying to decide whether I’d be going to far, or if it would be helpful. The reporter can still dig up the trial transcripts if she wants to, and some of the things we all said were pretty damaging, just because they did have a row that day and hadn’t been getting along.”
“Sean will appreciate the fact that you’re so supportive,” Lori said.
He smiled at her. “In lots of ways, he’s a lucky guy.” He reached out for her suddenly, and she felt a moment’s panic. She was an idiot, letting Jeff in here when she was all alone
, and now he was going to reach out and strangle her, drag her out, take her somewhere, kill…
He brushed back a lock of her hair, smiling again. “He’s lucky to have you behind him,” Jeff said. He stood. “I’ve got to go. Tell Sean to call me if he thinks I can do anything. We’ll see you all tomorrow, anyway.”
“Oh?”
“Golf.”
“I don’t golf.”
“No, but we thought we’d meet at Jan’s after for a dip in the pool and Jacuzzi—and a call to a pizza place that delivers. You’ll come, won’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, following him to the front door. As she opened it, feeling like a fool and hoping he didn’t see the sheer panic in her face, Ted was just driving onto the embankment in front of her house.
“What’s up?” he asked, getting out. He was in uniform, on duty.
“Just came by to see Sean. But he’s not here,” Jeff said.
“You all right, Lori?” Ted asked. “Sean…?”
“He’s fine, thanks. And, of course, I’m all right.”
Was she? Even Ted was making her nervous. A man in uniform, a cop, could make a vulnerable woman do almost anything, trustingly.
“Ted, any news on Sue?” Lori asked anxiously.
He shook his head. “Strange. I followed her home from lunch after the funeral, and checked up on her after the party. She didn’t say a thing about going anywhere. But she packed her toothbrush, so she must have planned on being away.”
“It is strange,” Lori said.
“Scary,” Ted agreed.
She thought that Ted and Jeff might even be suspicious of one another, because neither of them moved. She finally excused herself. “Well, I’ve got some errands. Thanks, guys, for being friends.”
“Sure thing, Lori.”
They were leaning against the rear of Jeff’s car, both watching her, as she drove away.
Jan was practically passed out when Muffy left. She lay on the heart-shaped bed, her head spinning, wanting only to sleep.
She felt Brad near her, whispering in her ear. “Jan, I love you. I know how hard this was for you… thanks.”
She mumbled something.
“Jan…”
He turned her over. She slit her eyes open, saw the diamond he held glittering, even in the subdued light.
“Marry me?” He said. He suddenly seemed somewhat tense. “You know, I really need you now in my life. I need your support, I need to say you’re with me… at all times.”
Her head really hurt. She did love him, and she wanted to marry him.
But not now.
She rolled back over. “It would serve you right if I ran off with another woman,” she told him.
He might have kept talking; she’d never know. The champagne was just too much.
She passed out.
At last Jan was home.
The killer knew, because he watched her. He’d known about her whole day ahead of time; they said that women talked, but men were just as bad.
She showered. Forever and ever it seemed, just letting the water rush over her. She was totally unaware that he stood within the redwood enclosure that encircled the glassed-in hot tub and shower area of her bathroom. She was usually safe from prying eyes because of that privacy fence and the profusion of hybiscus bushes that surrounded the fence.
But he knew her house. Knew that the pool and patio area were hidden by heavy foliage as well. Hell, he even knew her damned neighborhood. The old bat next door was watching Oprah. The couple in back both worked. The house on the other side was empty; snowbirds owned it, and they were back up north.
Can’t wash it away, Jan, can’t wash away what you’ve done! he thought3 amused.
But it was nothing. Nothing at all compared to what she was going to do.
Soon, Jan.
With me.
It won’t matter if you’re willing.
It won’t even matter if you’re alive or dead.
Lori reached the address the woman had given her. It was one of the old hotels, and she discovered at the desk that MFOT Productions had rented a rear suite. She made a mental note to ask her brother what “MFOT” stood for, then walked around the hotel and saw the camera crews first. She followed a deli caterer into the back of a large suite facing the ocean, then saw her brother in a chair, and a pair of long-limbed young women cuddled up together on the bed.
“Did Muffy get in yet? We need to get to the stud shots soon.”
“Muffy’s in back, she’s clocked in!” someone called back.
Andrew was swearing softly to himself, then he called out a direction, “Come on, ladies, you’re looking bored as hell! This is a seduction for you, Tanya, and a discovery for you, Betty. Look like you’re into it.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m into it!” Betty said, bored.
“You’re paid to be into it!” Andrew snapped, gritting his teeth and pressing his temples between his fingers. He looked up, and saw his sister.
“Jesus!” he cried, jumping up. “Take five!” he shouted to his crew, grabbing Lori by the elbow and propelling her out of the suite and down the walk toward the beach.
“Andrew—” she protested.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked with dismay.
“Calm down, I know what you do—”
“And you know I pee, too, but I don’t want you watching me!”
She smiled. “Andrew, I’ve seen porno flicks. And it seems that half our friends have starred in the damned things.”
“Only Brad, Jeff, and Josh,” he mumbled.
“Andrew, what’s MFOT?”
He stared at her dully. “Money for Other Things,” he muttered. She smiled. “Lori, come on. What the hell are you doing here?”
“I just came to see if you wanted lunch,” she lied. He looked innocent as hell. Her brother couldn’t have killed anyone.
He hadn’t looked half so innocent when he had been yelling at Tanya and Betty. Did he hate women, somewhere down deep? Or just these so-called actresses?
“Lunch?” he inquired, puzzled. She realized he was looking past her, to the door to the suite.
She swung around, stunned to see that Sean was standing there.
Talking with Muffy Fluffy.
Lori’s heart slammed against her chest. “Sean called before to ask me to lunch,” Andrew said. “He said that you were busy.”
“I—was,” Lori said quickly, staring at Sean. He hadn’t seen her yet, he was smiling, laughing at something Muffy was saying. He was wearing his RayBans, his dark hair was slightly damp, he was in dark dockers and a casual but well-cut jacket and looked as if he could easily be the star of the show.
“You haven’t started using Sean in these things, have you?” she whispered.
“Oh, yeah, world-class author with a death-defying desire to do adult films,” Andrew said. “No, I think the newspaper thing was getting to him, and he honestly just wanted to have lunch with a friend.”
Honestly. Right. She realized that Sean was doing his own investigation, and that he was starting with her brother.
He looked up from Muffy Fluffy and saw her. Despite his glasses, she saw the flicker of quickly controlled tension in his features.
“Lori!” Muffy said happily.
“Hi, Muffy. Hello, Sean.”
“Lori. What are you doing here?”
“Just came to see my big brother.”
“You were supposed to be out with your grandfather,” Sean said.
“I was. I thought you were staying in Palm Beach?”
“I was. I decided to come back early.”
“Oh.”
“Well,” Andrew said, apparently unaware of any tension whatsoever, “we can all go to lunch.”
“Sure,” Sean said after a moment.
“Umm,” Lori hedged.
“I'd love to—” Muffy began.
“But,” Andrew quickly interrupted, “they’ll need you here; I’m going to have the assistant director finish up t
hose close-up shots while I’m gone.”
“Oh, sure,” Muffy said, ever cheerful. “See you all later, then.”
“Where to?” Andrew asked.
“Anywhere.”
“Down the street there’s a great little fish house. Great fried shrimp,” Andrew asked.
“Great,” Sean agreed.
Before they reached the restaurant, someone called out their names. They turned around to see that Ricky Garcia was following them.
“Ricky?” Andrew said. “I may not be winning the Academy Award, but I am within my legal rights.”
“Funny. I just heard that you were here, Sean, seeing Andrew.”
“How’d you hear that?” Sean asked.
“Talked to Brad.”
“How did Brad know?”
“Don’t know,” Ricky said.
“Maybe he called here and talked to someone in production,” Andrew offered.
“Why were you looking for me?” Sean asked. “I’m not under arrest yet, am I?” he asked dryly.
Ricky shook his head. “She’s a jerky kid reporter, Sean. No one will take any of it seriously.”
“Some people will. Doesn’t matter. What’s up?”
“I’m down here to meet Brad and Jeff Olin for lunch,” Ricky said. “Why don’t we all go together? One of you can treat. Cops don’t get paid well.”
Just at that moment, Brad and Jeff pulled up in front of the hotel.
Sean, Ricky, and Lori spun around, and shouted a greeting as the two came toward them along the street. They looked the part of attorneys, sharply dressed, neat haircuts, clean-cut features, handsome, serious faces.
“What the hell is going on?” Sean asked as they walked up. “How’d you know I was here?” he asked Brad.
“Little bird,” Brad said, and grinned. “I’d called for Andrew, a production assistant told me that the Sean Black was waiting to talk to him.”
“Ah.”
“So, you looking for work again?” Andrew teased.
“Naw, just came to see you and give someone something I forgot to take care of properly,” Brad said.
Drop Dead Gorgeous Page 25