by M. Z. Kelly
“At least until next week. The department is considering closing things out, given Carmen Todd’s involvement.”
The press had somehow gotten the details about Todd having possession of Internet cameras and the drug used to kill the Bratton family.
“That’s BS, with a big load of the S,” Mo said. “You ask me, you’re just scratchin’ the surface of something a lot bigger.”
“Have you heard something on the streets?”
“Just some scuttlebutt ‘bout the wife. You might take another look at her.”
“What kind of scuttlebutt?”
“She has secrets, just like the hubby.”
“Another marriage?”
Mo shook her big head. “I don’t think it’s nuthin’ like that.” She didn’t go on.
Natalie arrived with our drinks and said, “Me and Mo are still lookin’ for your daddy’s safe deposit box. No luck, so far.”
I accepted another drink. “I talked to my mother about it. She denied knowing anything.”
“You believe her?” Mo asked before slurping her drink.
I sighed. “I’m not really sure. All I know is that she didn’t really want to talk about it.”
“Don’t give up hope,” Natalie said. “Mo and me will find the family jewels, even if we have to use the Twerk to do it.”
I chuckled. “I wouldn’t take that thing into a bank, if I were you.”
Mo worked on her drink and changed the subject. “Ha-Na, as she now calls herself, came by today and made us promise to go to that high tea she’s havin’ on Sunday. Did you invite Jessica?”
I nodded. “I can’t guarantee it, but I think she’s coming. She can’t resist the idea of rubbing elbows with society’s elite.”
“Wait till she meets Herman Munster and his relatives,” Natalie said. “She’s gonna think she landed in a graveyard.”
I remembered the last time we’d been around Boris’s family. They’d chased me and my friends down the road, probably out of anger over Boris’s choice in women. “Is Nana really inviting Boris’s family?”
Mo nodded, as Natalie said, “Better bring your gun and flak vest. It could get ugly, and I’m not just talking about DNA.”
“Speakin’ of DNA,” Mo said. “Anything new on Pearl?”
“Nothing.”
“I been givin’ some thought to Harlan Ryland being your daddy,” Natalie said.
“I don’t want to even think about it.”
She went on anyway. “If it turns out he is your daddy, it means that half his estate should be yours.”
I shook my head. “I’m sure Harlee would be thrilled to hear that.”
“I heard the place she rented up in the hills is da bomb.”
“Yeah,” Mo agreed. “As in, it could explode.”
“What do you mean?”
She emptied her glass. “Word has it them Tauists are up to no good after their retreat. All I know is they got somethin’ big planned.”
“Are you talking about explosives?”
Mo shrugged. “Don’t know. All I heard is they got an arsenal up there.” She lowered her voice. “You better be careful.”
I rose, and Bernie came up off the floor. “I’m going to try and forget about her for the weekend. I’ve got that lunch in Ojai tomorrow, so I’ll see you both on Sunday.”
Mo looked at Natalie. “It sounds like Kate’s planning to spend the night with her new guy.”
“You wanna borrow the Twerk?” Natalie asked, following me to the door. “You use it on that bloke, and he’ll go crazier than a rat in a Viagra factory.”
I laughed. “No, thanks. Somehow, I can’t see myself taking a Twerk on a first date.”
TWENTY-FIVE
I dropped Bernie off at my brother’s the next morning. I was about to head out the door when Robin said, “Would you like me to run a brush through your hair? I have some new conditioner.”
The words brush and conditioner were code words meaning that Robin thought my hair was a disaster. “Okay, but I’ve only got a few minutes.”
I took a seat on one of the barstools at his kitchen counter while Bernie sniffed around for crumbs.
“So, tell me about this guy you’re seeing in Ojai today,” Robin said as he worked on my hair.
“He’s just a detective from Taft, who I worked a case with a few weeks back. It’s his way of saying thanks for the help.”
“I take it there’s nothing serious between you two, yet.”
“No, and I’m planning on keeping it that way. I’m not ready to get involved again.”
He took a couple minutes, telling me that he and his boyfriend, Adam, were still together. The conversation eventually drifted to Harlee Ryland. Robin had recently told me that, not long ago, she had been in his salon, gathering information about our family. He said he hadn’t heard anything about her relocating to Hollywood.
I then mentioned the apparent safe deposit key I’d found in Mom’s house and the garbled message Pearl had left on his sister’s phone. “It was apparent from the message that he’s in Brazil on the trail of those involved in my adoptive father’s death. He then went on to say something about my bio-dad. The last name he said was Harlan Ryland.”
Robin stopped working and looked at me. “What do you think that means?”
I sighed. “It’s possible he meant Harlan Ryland was my bio-dad. Leo and I are hoping he’ll call again, or come home so we can find out more.”
“And you’re sure Pearl...”
I shook my head. “It was apparent from his message that he’s not my dad.”
Robin went back to work. After a moment, he said, “I know it’s not a pleasant thought, but if...”
When he didn’t go on, I said, “What?”
“It’s just that, if Ryland was your biological father, it might explain why it was kept a secret. After all, he and Collin Russell were behind Dad’s death.”
“What you’re trying to say is that nobody wanted it known that my father might have been both a thief and a serial killer.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I checked the time on my phone. “I’d better get going.”
I glanced at my hair in a mirror Robin gave me, deciding it was a big improvement. I thanked him as we walked to the door.
He hugged me before I left, again apologizing for what he’d said about Ryland. “Maybe we’re just jumping to conclusions about everything. I’m sure Pearl will clear things up soon.”
“I’m sure.”
***
The drive to Ojai took a couple hours because of heavy traffic leaving Los Angeles. It was a warm summer day as I arrived in the small foothill community. I’d read somewhere that Ojai was known as Shangri-La, a reference to its natural beauty, surrounded by mountains, and its reputation for being a spiritual retreat.
I met Ross at an outdoor restaurant at the sprawling Spanish style inn named for the city. As we took seats, I apologized for being late. “It was stop-and-go traffic all the way down the 101 Freeway. Everybody seemed to want to leave the city at the same time.”
Ross settled in at the table, across from me. He was casually dressed in an open collar blue shirt and khaki pants. His dark, wavy hair was longer than the last time I’d seen him, flirting with the back of his collar. Something about his looks and deep voice reminded me of a younger version of the actor Sam Elliott, someone very easy on the eyes.
“Can’t say that I blame them for wanting to get out of LA,” he said. His green eyes took in the rolling hills and golf course below us. “Of course, the view here doesn’t measure up to what we’ve got in Taft.”
I laughed, remembering that the city where he lived and worked was in the desert, an area surrounded by oil fields. It was about as far from the lush green valley surrounding us as you could get.
After glancing at menus, Ross asked me about the Bratton case. “There’s been a lot of coverage on the news. It sounds like the guy’s second wife really came unhinged.”
He smiled. “’Course, if I was in her heels, I might lose it also.”
I laughed. “Somehow I can’t see you in Carmen Todd’s heels.” He chuckled as I went on. “I think there’s a lot more to what happened than is being reported. I’m just not sure the department is going to let me continue to work the case. I may be headed back to Cold Case.”
“Not much action there.”
I smiled. “You never know.”
A server came over with our drinks before I mentioned what my friends had said about the town of Ojai. “From what I hear, this place is a getaway for a lot of celebs in Hollywood.”
“Could be we’ll run into someone you know.”
“I hope not. I prefer to remain anonymous.”
He tipped up his beer. “My sentiments, exactly.”
After lunch, we found ourselves on a walking trail that led from the inn to the downtown area of the city. We spent a couple hours rummaging through secondhand stores and trendy shops. I even bought myself a pair of hoop earrings with turquoise settings, the design inspired by the native people that once inhabited the area.
Toward evening, we found a restaurant with another outdoor patio and ordered drinks. The evening was warm and beautiful as the long shadows of late afternoon settled in. Ross and I had found a lot of common ground during our day together and, over drinks, I found myself confiding in him about my family situation.
After I’d told him the entire sorry story, I said, “I still don’t know who my biological father is and, the way things are going, I might never know.”
He took some time before responding. “Sometimes not knowing your father isn’t such a bad thing.”
“What do you mean?”
His gaze moved off for a moment. “There’s not a lot of people I tell this to, but my father is the big shot attorney, Gordon Adams. He and my mom were divorced when I was just a kid. Don’t have any contact with him now.”
“Are you talking about the political activist?”
“The head of the state environmental coalition. It could be he even knows that Todd woman who killed herself.” He took a moment. “Don’t get me wrong, my dad does a lot of good stuff, it’s just that...” He shrugged. “...he’s never made an effort to be a part of my life.”
“Maybe you should try and contact him.”
“I did, about five years ago. We had lunch, and he made promises about staying in touch. Never happened.”
“I’m sorry.”
He smiled, in what I’d found to be his disarming way. “I turned out okay, anyway.” The smile grew wider. “At least I think so.”
It was my turn to smile. “I can’t say that I disagree.”
“The feeling’s mutual. Despite your family troubles, I’d say you’re a survivor, someone who always manages to land on her feet.”
“I’ve got a couple friends who are a pretty good support system.”
“I’d like to meet them one of these days.”
“We’ll see. They’re...” I paused, trying to decide how to describe Natalie and Mo. “...they’re like something you have to see to believe.”
“They sound interesting.”
“That’s one way of describing them.” I checked the time on my phone. “I’d probably better head back to Hollywood. The traffic this time of evening is always bad.”
We walked back up the trail to the inn, where we’d parked our cars. We stopped next to my beat-up ancient Ford. Ross studied my car for a moment, then looked at me and smiled. “Looks like old Betsy’s got a few miles on her.”
I raised my brows and nodded. “I read somewhere on the Internet that she was voted one of the top twenty worst cars of all time. I call her Olive.” Our eyes found one another and my lips turned up. “I’m still in financial recovery from my divorce. I’m hoping to trade her in one of these days, or maybe just pay someone to take her off my hands so I can get something newer.”
Ross was still considering my car, smiling. “I think she gives you some character.”
“Yeah, as in broke character.”
We lingered there, Ross mentioning that he was driving an older model truck, before he summoned the courage, or maybe the stupidity, to say, “How about we go on a real date next week? I could even come to Hollywood so you can show me the sights.”
I hesitated, unsure how to respond. My earlier thoughts about not wanting to get involved surfaced, then melted away as I looked into his beautiful green eyes. Damn.
“I’ll have to check my schedule,” I said, “but give me a call.”
TWENTY-SIX
While I was looking forward to seeing Ross Adams again, I was also determined to take things slow, something that I told my friends about as we drove to Nana’s high tea the next day.
“I think Ross and I have a lot in common,” I said, after telling them about our day together in Ojai. “He’s pretty easy on the eyes, too.”
“She’s a goner,” Natalie said, as Mo steered her big red Caddie up into the Hollywood hills. My gorgeous blonde friend had on a short red dress and matching pumps. “Give her another month, and she’ll be talkin’ ‘bout movin’ in with him.”
Mo, who was wearing a dress that had pictures of fruit on it, everything from bananas to pineapples, looked at me in the rearview mirror and agreed with her. “You got goo-goo eyes.”
“I do not,” I protested. “And Ross lives in Taft. It would be like living on the moon. There’s no way I would move there.”
“Kate might need herself a spacesuit before long,” Natalie said.
They went on, speculating that Ross and I would not only move in together, but we’d eventually get married on Nana’s estate and have 2.3 children.
I laughed, but it faded away when Mo mentioned Joe Dawson. “You gonna tell Joe ‘bout Ross?”
“We’re just friends,” I said, trying to make light of her question. “I mean Joe and me.”
Mo regarded me. “Right.”
We drove on in silence, before rounding a corner and finding Jessica getting out of her Mercedes, which was parked at the side of the winding road, across from Nana’s estate.
Natalie laughed and pointed at her. “She’s wearin’ one of those dresses that looks like a Princess Kate knock-off.”
“She’s also got on one of them goofy sunhats,” Mo said as she pulled off the road and lowered her voice. “I got a feeling this is gonna be fun.”
“I’m glad you could make it,” I said to Jessica after we parked and met up with her in Nana’s driveway.
Jessica’s dress was bright yellow, complemented by a rose shaped hat of the same color. Not to be spiteful, but she also had on enough makeup for an army of clowns.
She regarded my outfit, a blue floral print dress, then looked at my friends. “Do you think I’m overdressed? I wasn’t sure what you wear to a high tea.”
“Ya look perfect,” Natalie said, taking her by the arm as we moved toward the yard. “I always wanted to wear a flower on me head to one of these get-togethers.”
“Maybe you could give me and baby sis some makeup tips one of these days,” Mo said, smiling as we walked. “I could use some help with my coloring.”
Nana’s tea was held by the pool, in an area that had been turned into a lush garden. I glanced around, seeing a scattering of women who I recognized as Boris’s family members, including his mother, Wilhelmina. They were all wearing black.
“Wonder who died,” Mo said, coming over to me. “Black’s beautiful, but these ghouls got the market cornered on the color.”
“They look like they robbed a bloody blood bank,” Natalie offered.
I whispered for them both to watch what they said, as I saw Boris’s mother heading in our direction. “I think she heard you,” I told my friends.
“That woman tries to start something again, and we take her out,” Mo told Natalie.
“What’s going on?” Jessica asked, as Wilhelmina got closer.
I lowered my voice. “We just have some history with Nana�
�s former husband’s mother.”
I didn’t mention that our history included shouting matches, family members being pushed into the pool, a curse that Natalie said had given Wilhelmina warthog features, and Boris’s family chasing us off the estate.
“What are you doing here?” Wilhelmina demanded, planting herself in front of us and putting her hands on her hips. While she didn’t look exactly like a warthog, her nose did remind me of a certain porcine cartoon character.
“We heard there was a funeral,” Natalie said. “When exactly did you pass away?”
“What’s it like on the other side?” Mo asked, taking a step closer to her. “You spend a lot of time lookin’ for the stairs?”
Wilhelmina made a motion with her foot, or maybe it was a hoof, like a hog getting ready to attack. “I’m not going to stand for you ruining another event.”
“Then why don’t you lay down,” Natalie said. “In case you haven’t heard, dead people don’t walk.”
A couple other women came forward, shouting encouragement to Wilhelmina as she tried to defend her bloodline and convince us that she wasn’t deceased.
The commotion was interrupted when a woman named Doobie, who I knew was Nana and Boris’s lifestyle coach, announced that the festivities were about to begin. A trumpet then sounded, and Nana and Boris emerged from the house. A string quartet began playing as they moved along a pathway, greeting their guests.
Natalie’s laughter and comments could be heard over the music. “Boris looks like one of them circus barkers. I wonder where the clowns are.” She glanced at Wilhelmina. “Never mind.”
While Boris didn’t exactly look like he belonged in a circus, there was something about his red coat, top hat, and the cane he was carrying that did bring that image to mind. Nana, on the other hand, wore a strapless sundress that showed off a lot of her new skin, convincing me that miracles really could happen.
“This is outrageous,” Wilhelmina said, in response to Natalie’s comment.
“This party is kinda dull,” Mo agreed. “Maybe you should try to liven it up.” She smiled. “Oh, never mind, I just remembered you’re dead.”