Hollywood Murder

by M. Z. Kelly

  Trenton came back from the house and said, “That was your friend’s Realtor. They’ve been looking for you and thought I might have seen you. They’re finished touring the house and will meet you at the main gate.”

  I stood up, got Bernie on his leash, and said, “It’s been wonderful talking to you.”

  She came over and hugged me. “Same here. Let’s stay in touch.” Her eyes brightened. “I just thought of something.” She glanced into the house then back at me. “The photographs you saw are just a few of those my aunt had. I could go through some boxes, see if I can find other pictures of your dad, and then call you.”

  I felt the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I had a thought there could be something in those other photographs that would tell me for sure if the deaths of her aunt and my love-dad were linked. “Tell you what. Let’s get together in a couple of days. I’d love it if we could look through the boxes together and talk about old times. Who knows, maybe in the process we’ll solve a couple of thirty year old mysteries.”

  ***

  “You mean that Trenton woman and your love-dad knew one another?” Mo said, regarding me with one eye. We were at a Denny’s on Sunset, having coffee and pie, after leaving Chanteclair.

  I took a moment before answering, savoring a spoonful of strawberry pie. “My dad even brought me to the estate a couple of times. I was a few years younger than Laura, but she remembered us playing together as children.”

  Natalie was wide-eyed, both from having toured the mansion and because of what I’d told them. After slurping her hot chocolate, she said, “That means you woulda met Jean Winslow.” She reached over and took my hand, telling Mo, “We’re in the presence of somebody who probably touched the biggest star in Hollywood history.”

  Mo made a scoffing sound and sipped her coffee. She’d already wolfed down a big slice of chocolate pie. “Guess that makes her some kinda royalty.”

  I smiled. “I’ll let you both kiss my ring later.”

  Natalie went on, “What was Queen Jean like when you were a kid? Did you meet anybody else that was famous, like maybe that Clark Gable bloke or even Elvis?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Clark and I played puppets, while I ate a lot of junk food with Elvis and we sang ‘Hound Dog’.” Bernie was at my side and looked up at me, probably thinking that I was full of something other than strawberry pie.

  “Really?”

  Mo shook her head and looked at Natalie. “Kate’s full of fertilizer, baby sis. I’m sure Clark was pushing up daisies when she was little. And old swivel hips was probably also gone by the time Kate was playin’ dolls with Winslow’s niece.”

  I finished off my pie and confirmed what she’d said, telling Natalie, “I would have been a little girl at the time and don’t remember even being at the estate.”

  “You mighta just been a kid, but I betcha that Trenton woman knows something more about her aunty’s murder.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. She admitted that she’s also had her doubts about her aunt’s death being a suicide, but had nothing to back that up.”

  Mo leveled one eye on me and lowered her voice. “It might be that she’s afraid of The Revelation.”

  “I asked her about the group and the possibility that Kellen Malone was involved. She said that she met Malone at Chanteclair before her aunt died. She described him as being nice.”

  Mo’s eye bugged out. “Nice?”

  I shrugged. “That’s what she said.”

  “That doesn’t add up. We gotta go back and lean on her some more, get to the truth.”

  “I’m planning to see her again in a few days. She said she had some more of her aunt’s old photos. There might even be more pictures of my dad.”

  “We wanna go with you,” Natalie said. “Me and Mo got as much invested in this as you.”

  “Really?”

  She lowered her eyes. “Well, maybe not quite as much, but we all gotta stick together.”

  I regarded them both. They were like sisters to me, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted them tagging along when I saw Laura Trenton again. “We’ll see.”

  Mo changed the subject. “What’s the word on that place Noah said we might be able to rent? Bub came by today with the official notice that our rent is doubling.”

  “I’ll talk to Noah tonight and let you know what he’s worked out.”

  “I hope we get the place,” Natalie said, looking at Mo. “Some of us aren’t gettin’ any younger and we might just fit in there.”

  FIFTY-SEVEN

  The next morning, Bernie and I met Leo at the station. We were preparing to leave to meet the feds down the block from the Montreals’ estate, hoping the kidnappers would call again as promised, when all hell broke loose.

  “That reporter you’ve been working with is out here,” Jake Carson said. The uniformed officer was on light duty, manning the front desk. Carson lowered his voice. “She’s demanding to see you and Kingsley, and she’s not happy.”

  I told Carson I’d call him back, then filled Leo in. “We’d better go see if the wizard can also meet with her.”

  Ten minutes later, after filling in Lieutenant Oz on what was happening, I had Carson escort Shelia Woods to his office. The reporter was without her camera crew, but was breathing fire as she took a seat with us.

  Woods looked at me. “I demand to know why I’ve been cut out of this investigation.”

  I let Oz handle things. He said, “Can you explain what you mean?”

  “I went by and did a couple of follow-up questions with Millie Randolph last night.” Woods’ gaze swung back to me and Leo. “Samantha Potter’s aunt told me that you questioned her about the Pressleys.”

  I glanced at Oz, back at her, and tried to smooth things over. “It was just some routine follow-up questions.”

  “Really.” Woods looked back at the lieutenant. “I suppose that’s why your detectives made a special trip to Glendale, questioned the Pressleys, and cut me out of everything.”

  Oz straightened his bowtie and tried to do damage control. “I was waiting for a callback from my superiors for permission to inform you of what was happening.”

  “Not good enough,” Woods bellowed. “I was granted full access. Your officers intentionally excluded me.”

  Oz continued to try and smooth things over as the reporter melted down. Fifteen minutes later, he’d made promises about calling the captain and making sure she was included in the latest developments of our investigation.

  When Woods finally calmed down, she demanded to know what we’d learned about the reverend and his wife. Oz nodded his consent for us to answer.

  Leo took over, explaining, “The Potters were attending Reverend Stan’s church before their deaths. From what we know, they’d made a commitment to make a contribution to their new church. When that didn’t happen, Meagan Pressley said she went by and discussed the matter with Maggie Potter. Samantha overheard that discussion and called it an argument.”

  Woods took a moment, making notes on her pad. She huffed out a breath and looked back at Leo. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Leo glanced at Oz before going on. “We know that Walter Potter and Meagan Pressley were on the same charity board for needy children. It’s just speculation at this point, but there might have been something more to their relationship.”

  Woods’ face lit up and her voice pitched higher. “You mean to tell me that the wife of the man who is building the Stairway to Heaven was having an affair with Walter Potter?”

  “We don’t know that, at this point. We’re still investigating.”

  The reporter scribbled more notes on her pad. “This is huge.”

  “This is confidential,” Oz said. “We’re still trying to piece things together. Nothing can be released to the public until we know more.”

  “What’s next? What is your next move?”

  “We’re having our crime analyst and secretary compile information on M
eagan Pressley and her fundraising efforts. When we know something more, as it ties to the Potters, with the captain’s permission, we’ll include you.”

  Shelia Woods kept her eyes fixed on Oz. “I’ll wait while you call your captain.”

  Fifteen minutes later, with Captain Dembowski’s permission, we called Selfie and Molly into Oz’s office. We explained about Woods being granted access and asked for any updates.

  Selfie, who this morning sported a row of diamond studs above her left brow, began by saying, “Yesterday, we made several inquiries, talking to people who know the Pressleys. While there’s nothing definitive, a couple of them said they thought they were having problems. They described Meagan as someone who liked to party and Stan as being the more serious type.”

  “Someone who liked to party with other men?” Woods asked.

  Selfie raised the brow with her piercings. “That was the impression we got, but…I couldn’t say for sure.”

  “There’s also a financial issue,” Molly told us. “The Stairway to Heaven is costing millions, and it looks like the Pressleys have fallen behind on payments to several of their sub-contractors. There’s even some talk that that whole project could be mothballed unless a major contribution is found.”

  Woods scribbled notes, looked at Leo and me. “The Potters didn’t have a lot of money. Whatever they’d pledged for the new church would hardly have made a difference. There had to be another reason why Meagan Pressley went by to see Maggie Potter and got into an argument with her.”

  “So it would seem,” Leo said. He looked at our civilian employees. “Let’s stay on this, let us know what you find.”

  I had another thought. “Since Walter Potter owned an insurance business, let’s also look at any life insurance policies that might have been written on his wife in recent months. We know that she had a terminal illness.”

  “Are you suggesting that Walter might have taken out a policy on his wife and had her murdered?” Woods asked.

  “I can’t say, but, if that was the case, whoever killed Maggie also killed her likely beneficiary.” I checked my phone and realized we were running late to meet the feds. I nodded to Leo and we both stood up. “Sorry, but we’ve got an appointment we’re late for.”

  The reporter smiled. “Would this have anything to do with the Marsh case?”

  “No comment.”

  On the way to our car, Leo said, “Maybe we should have just brought Woods with us. She knows everything that goes on anyway.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Thanks, but she’s already given me one headache for the day. I don’t need another one.”

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  Allison held her daughter close. While Jenna didn’t speak, she sensed her despair over her brother being taken from them. “We’ve got to be brave, sweetheart. This will all be over soon.”

  Frank and Sasha had been yelling at one another for hours. She hadn’t been able to make out exactly what they’d been saying, but knew something was about to happen again. If there was another ransom drop soon, she prayed that her father would cooperate this time.

  As Jenna snuggled in her arms, Allison did her best to ignore the voices in the house above them. She tried to relax, her eyes closing as her mind drifted back in time. An image formed and she remembered turning seven years old. She had begged her mother to let her sister come to her party. “We had fun last year. Maybe Karen can spend the night again.”

  “Last year was different,” her mother had said, her tone cold and brittle. “Things have changed since then. I won’t have that child in my house.”

  “But...I don’t understand.”

  “When you’re older, maybe your father will explain things to you. I don’t want to hear another word about this.”

  True to her word, her mother hadn’t mentioned Karen’s name again. Years later, when she was a teenager, Allison remembered asking her father about the sister she hadn’t been able to see in more than a decade. “Karen sent me an email, asking if she could visit. I asked Mom, but she got really mad and said I could never say Karen’s name again around her.”

  Her father had sighed and leveled his steely-blue eyes on her. “Karen’s not a part of this family any longer. She has her own life. The issue is not up for discussion.”

  Allison knew from the emails they’d exchanged that Karen’s life involved her living in an apartment in Seattle with her mother. They barely had enough money for rent or food. Then one day she and Karen had connected, using Skype. That’s when Allison had learned the truth.

  She hadn’t seen her sister since Karen was five, and when her pretty face appeared on the screen Allison remembered being shocked. Except for the fact that Karen had dark hair, they not only looked like sisters, they could be twins. It felt like her long lost sibling had finally come back into her life.

  After chatting and exchanging information about their lives, Karen told her something that explained why she hadn’t been allowed to be part of her life. “My mother told me that your dad cheated on your mom with her and I was born. Your mom let me visit once when I was little. After that she told your dad she couldn’t accept what happened. Your dad and mom disowned me and wouldn’t even help my mom buy school clothes.”

  Everything had fallen into place for Allison after that. She did some research and learned that Karen’s mother and her father had gone to school together in Chicago. They were going to be married, but her father had met her mother and called the wedding off.

  She’d come to understand why her mother had never accepted Karen. She also knew it was wrong for her father not to help with her sister’s support. Allison remembered inviting Karen to a family gathering when they were older and both in college. It had been a surprise, and she hadn’t told her parents beforehand that Karen was coming.

  Her mother had barely been civil to her sister, insisting that she leave immediately after dinner. Just like in the fairytale, Karen had been the stepsister who never got any of the privileges she had. It was the last time she’d seen Karen in person.

  The past receded and Allison’s thoughts surfaced. She and Karen had lived very different lives. Despite that, she felt a connection to the sister she’d never really known. If she survived what was happening, she made a commitment that both her and Karen’s lives would be far better than the one’s they’d known.

  Heavy footsteps were suddenly moving across the floor above them. Jenna held on to her tighter as the door to the basement creaked opened. Allison said a silent prayer that she and her daughter wouldn’t be killed.

  FIFTY-NINE

  “Tonight, we celebrate for real,” Sasha said after coming over to Frank. She cupped her pouty lips around his ear and worked her magic.

  The PI moaned and whispered, “Not now. Save it for later.” He broke away and went over to the kitchen counter, checking the equipment for what seemed like the tenth time.

  He and Sasha had spent part of the night arguing about how the ransom drop would go down. His companion had wanted to send Henry Montreal around the city again, before ordering him to leave the money in a park. Sasha had said she wanted to be the one to pick up the ransom and would then call him.

  While Sasha was an attractive woman, her beauty hadn’t struck him blind and stupid. There was no way he was going to trust the bitch with ten million dollars. This was his operation, and, in the end, he would make the decisions on how to handle the drop. While nothing was a sure thing, he was confident what he had in mind was the best option. When all was said and done, even if the cops were there watching, there would be nothing they could do to prevent him from taking what he deserved.

  While moneybags was still a concern, Frank hoped that the bomb he’d planted on his grandson had gotten the message across. If the bastard tried to cross him again, he would make certain the billionaire and his family paid the ultimate price. This was the endgame, and if people had to die, he would leave a trail of bodies behind.

  Satisfied that everything was in p
lace, Frank took the duct tape and rope from his duffle bag and moved toward the basement door. “Time to rock and roll.”

  Sasha followed him down the stairway to the basement where they found Allison and her daughter cowering in a corner.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Allison pleaded. “We’ll do whatever you say.”

  Dyer used the rope to tie her hands at the same time Jenna began sobbing. Sasha took the duct tape and walked over to the child. She pulled out a section of tape and placed it over Jenna’s mouth.

  “Shut up,” Sasha said, moving closer to the child until she was inches from her face. “If you don’t, mommy will die.”

  SIXTY

  Thanks to the Mount Woods eruption, Leo and I were a half hour late meeting the feds on the street near the Montreals’ estate. We made our apologies to the agents, got some grunts and blank looks, and took our place at the back of the line.

  Three hours later, with no call from the kidnappers, we were beginning to think the day had been wasted. Around noon, while we ate sandwiches Leo had brought, he mentioned our meeting with Woods. “How do you suppose she knew we met with the Pressleys yesterday?”

  “A little birdie told her.”

  He glanced at me. “A birdie with stars on his collar.”

  “That would be my guess.”

  His gaze drifted up the street, as something occurred to him. “Just happened to think about the knot used to tie the Potters. Did you ever follow-up with that Santa Maria PD detective that Woods talked to?”

  “Yeah. They had something similar used in a kidnapping up there a couple of years back. The detective told Woods it might be similar to the knot used on the Potters, but the reporter blew what he’d said out of proportion. I think it’s a dead end.”