Hollywood Outlaw: A Hollywood Alphabet SeriesThriller (A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller Book 15)

by M. Z. Kelly

  “Got an update on your sister,” I heard Joe Dawson say.

  “I’ve had a rough week. Please tell me it’s good news.”

  “Sorry to hear that, Buttercup, but this might cheer you up. Lindsay’s made contact with our CI. He had a brief conversation with her and told one of our operatives that she’s lying low.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Not exactly sure, but we think it means she’s on the inside and on our side. He’s going to try to get her alone again, see what gives.”

  I exhaled as Bernie pulled me toward a flowerbed. “That doesn’t exactly sound promising.”

  “There’s one other thing.”

  I tried to steady my nerves. “What’s that?”

  “She told him to get word to you that she loves you.”

  I attempted to respond, but felt myself choking up. There was a waterfall of tears on my cheeks as Joe asked me if I was okay. I finally managed to say, “I’m fine. It’s just…I want her to be safe and I’m worried.”

  “Remember what I told you before? This is personal. I’ll get your sister out.”

  I choked up, then said, “Thanks, Joe. I appreciate it.”

  I was about to end the call when he said, “So what really gives? You okay?”

  I took a couple of breaths. I thought about telling him about Noah, but didn’t want to go into all the details. “I’m okay. Give me another call when you know something more and we’ll talk then.”

  I ended the call, went home, and got ready for bed. I’d just settled Bernie down and got under the covers when my phone rang again. I saw that the call was from Buck and thought about not answering it. I’d been thinking about him after my conversation with Natalie and Mo, and I knew I was in a vulnerable state.

  I decided to push that all aside, knowing I couldn’t ignore the call. “I hope this is good news for once,” I said.

  “I’d say it’s good news for Addison Blaine, not sure about anyone else.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Selfie and Molly just got access to the CCTV footage of the parking garage at the condo complex where Cole Abrams lived. It clearly shows an unidentified woman placing the murder weapon in Blaine’s car. It looks like she was set up.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  I got to work early the next morning after leaving Bernie with Natalie. Leo was already at his desk and I asked him if he’d heard about the closed circuit video.

  “We’re supposed to meet with Edna in a few and take a look at it. Not sure what this means for Blaine’s bail hearing this morning, but there’s some news on our other case. The DA is dropping the murder charge against Marisha Dole.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “He said the DNA evidence could have been left on our victim at any time prior to the murder, and the eyewitness accounts that Dole was wearing the blouse with the GSR is circumstantial. There’s no way of definitively proving it was hers. She’ll still be facing multiple counts of embezzlement, but will likely make bail on those charges.”

  “And once the DA’s notified about the gun being planted in Blaine’s car, bail probably won’t be an issue for her, either. Looks like we start over on both cases.”

  After discussing bail issues for a moment, I mentioned Lady Prince’s sister. “Have you heard how the brass wants to handle Conrad’s death?”

  “Not sure, but if you ask me, what happened is suspicious as hell.”

  “I had dinner with Brie last night and she pretty much said the same thing. She told me the car that hit her made no attempt to slow down, even after impact.”

  We went on, speculating about a possible link between Conrad’s death and Bert Prince’s murder, before Leo changed the subject, telling me he’d filed the missing person paperwork on Pearl. “We both know the paperwork on these kinds of cases doesn’t go anywhere. I’ll pass the word along to other detectives and patrol, but I’m not hopeful.”

  “I think it’s the most we can do for now.”

  Leo’s eyes held on me. “What else is on your mind?”

  My partner’s doctorate in psychology came in handy when it came to reading other people. I considered telling him about Noah, but then decided to wait until I knew more. I saw no reason not to tell him about my other plans. “I’m going to try and talk to Kellen Malone this weekend.”

  “You want me to tag along?”

  I shook my head. “Natalie and Mo are insisting on going with me, even though I’d prefer to go alone.”

  “You sure? If Malone knows you’re looking into what happened to John, your dad, it could make things difficult for you.”

  “If it doesn’t go well, I’ll let you know. I’m hoping I can keep my conversation with him civil.”

  He smiled. “Good luck with that. Your friends have a way of stirring things up.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  An hour later, Leo and I gathered with everyone in Edna’s office to view the CCTV footage that Selfie and Molly had obtained. As she worked a remote and the image of a woman appeared on an overhead monitor, Selfie said, “It looks like an EM pulse device was used to unlock the car. They’re sold on the Internet for about five dollars.”

  We watched as the woman used the remote control to open the passenger side front door of Blaine’s car. She then removed a gun from her handbag and slid it under the seat.

  “As you can see, our subject’s wearing a ball cap and is turned away from the camera, so it’s impossible to get a visual ID,” Molly said. “I shared the video with the techies at SID. They enlarged the images and think she’s about five-six or -seven, with dark hair. No other identifiers.”

  The video only lasted about thirty seconds. Selfie replayed it a couple of times before Edna told her he’d seen enough. “It looks like Blaine’s going to fucking walk because of this.”

  “Does the DA know about the video?” Leo asked.

  “Not yet, but it’s going over this morning. He’ll probably drop the charges once he sees it.”

  “It looks like a new beginning,” Darby said. Leo’s temporary partner was wearing a plaid jacket that looked like something a sleazy bookie would wear. “I still think Kristoff’s good for what happened.”

  The lieutenant looked at me and Buck. “I thought you two were going back to her last night.”

  Buck answered. “She didn’t pick up our calls. We’re going by her place this morning.”

  “Is she living at that House of Darwood, or whatever the hell they call it?”

  “She’s got a condo in Long Beach. After we talk to her, we plan to go by the House of Darwin and talk to Blaine’s mother.”

  “Let’s make it happen. Our vic’s father is going to jump down Dumbbell’s throat when Blaine’s released, which means Dumbo’s going to be jumping down mine.”

  “There’s another development,” I told the group. “I talked to Brie last night. She completed the autopsy on Cole Abrams and said there were signs of torture on his body.” I took a moment and filled them in on the burns to our victim’s buttocks and upper thighs, adding, “Brie said there were over a dozen different burns, some in varying states of healing.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t torture,” Darby said.

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe our victim liked a certain kind of foreplay, and somebody crossed the line.”

  I chuckled. “I don’t know what you do in your spare time, but most people wouldn’t lie around and let somebody use a hot poker on them.”

  “There’s all kinds in this world.”

  Buck slapped his former partner on the shoulder. “And you’re living proof of that.”

  Darby went on a mini-rant about Buck’s lack of professionalism, which Edna cut short. “Let’s stay on track.” He looked around the room. “What else?”

  “What about the Prince case, now that Dole walked on the murder charges?” I asked. “We’ve also got the issue of Christina Conrad’s death.”

  “Dumbbell and Dumbo
are shitting bricks about both cases falling apart. We need to take another run at everything, see if Conrad’s somehow connected to what happened.” Edna looked at Leo and Darby. “I want you two to do the follow up on Prince this morning. Take a look at any enemies Conrad had. Maybe there’s also some connection to Dole and the embezzlement from the family that we missed. I still think Dole’s good for the murder, but we’ve got to nail it down.”

  “It sounds like you think the Prince and Conrad killings are linked,” Leo said.

  “What I think doesn’t matter. The brass would be happy as a pig in shit if Conrad’s death was just a fucking accident. That said, we have a duty to take a look at it, see if there’s anything connected to Prince’s murder.”

  “Why is Prince and Conrad coming to Leo and me?” Darby whined. “We want the Abrams case, so we can go back to Kristoff.”

  Edna raised his voice. “You really want to go there with me after what happened between you and the press?”

  “It wasn’t my fault…”

  “Can it.” A vein was pulsing in the lieutenant’s forehead. “You didn’t play nice and it ended up all over TV. Dumbbell isn’t happy about it. End of story.”

  After the others left the lieutenant’s office, I stayed behind, telling Edna about Bernie’s progress. “According to his physical therapist, he’s making great strides. I think it could be just a few days before he’s medically cleared to return to duty.”

  Edna’s brown eyes shifted, his gaze moving away as he released a breath. “I’ve got some bad news.” He rubbed his jaw and met my eyes again. “Bernie’s out.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Officially, the department doesn’t think a canine should be working homicide. Unofficially, the word is that the acting chief doesn’t like dogs. He’s given Dum…Dembowski the word that Bernie’s to be retired or reassigned when he’s cleared.”

  My voice rose to something just short of a shout. “I won’t stand for this. Bernie’s been an integral part of Section One. He’s proved his worth over and over.”

  Edna raised a hand. “You’re preaching to the choir. It’s not my decision.” He lowered his voice. “I hear on the QT that Dunbar got his ass bit by a Rottweiler when he was a kid and has never gotten over it.”

  “I’ll bet the dog hasn’t either.” I blew out a breath in frustration. “I won’t let this go. I plan to take it up with Dunbar myself.”

  “I don’t blame you, but just so you know, Dembowski made it sound like it’s a done deal. If Bernie’s medically cleared to work and not retired, then he’ll probably be assigned to patrol.”

  “Then I’ll work patrol, if I have to.” I stood up. “I won’t go down without a fight.”

  FORTY

  I let Buck drive us to Paulina Kristoff’s condo in Long Beach because I was so angry I told him that I couldn’t be responsible for my actions. I ended a ten-minute rant by saying, “Bernie takes a goddamned knife trying to take down a serial killer and look what he gets for it. It’s just not right.”

  “I wanna go with you,” Buck said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you talk to Dunbar. I’ve seen Bernie in action and can talk about his value to Section One.”

  I exhaled, feeling empty and defeated. “I appreciate it, but knowing Dunbar, it’s not going to do any good. Edna said his mind is already made up.”

  “Then we need to come up with a plan to change it.”

  I glanced at him, trying to ignore the fact that he had the most amazing blue eyes I’d ever seen. “What have you got in mind?”

  He rubbed a hand over the stubble on his cheek. “Let me give it some thought. We need to play this right. It’s too important to leave to chance.”

  I agreed to give him some time to think of something, only because I was still so angry I couldn’t think straight. We drove on, sharing our outrage over Dunbar’s decision before I decided to change the subject, asking him for his thoughts on our case.

  “There’s no way of knowing for sure, but the woman who planted the gun in the video didn’t look like Kristoff to me. It could be that while Kristoff and Blaine were making whoopee in the safe room, somebody else took care of our victim.”

  “Maybe the somebody who didn’t get what they were after by torturing Abrams.” I dragged a hand through my hair, a thought crossing my mind that I needed another tune up at my brother’s salon before our upcoming family reunion, but I didn’t know how I could work it into my schedule. “Any way you slice it, the case is pretty bizarre.”

  Buck turned off the freeway in Long Beach. “Then let’s go see if Paulina Kristoff can help untangle a few knots.”

  The Dunsmuir Arms, Kristoff’s condominium complex, was an older building in a poorer section of the city. As we parked, I said to Buck, “Being a Beta must not pay very well.”

  We both saw the gang bangers across the street that had already made us. Buck jutted his chin in their direction. “Let’s stay alert. Paulina’s neighbors don’t look like the Welcome Wagon.”

  We were making our way across the parking lot and into the complex when we were stopped. The two men who had eyes on us earlier confronted us as we got to the sidewalk in front of the condos.

  “We’re with the homeowner’s association,” one of the men said. He looked like he was around thirty, with a shaved head covered in gang tattoos. “You’re gonna need a password if you want to access the building, Holmes.”

  His younger companion was more helpful. “I’ll give them the password.” He leveled his dark eyes on Buck. “It’s two words—fuck you.”

  Buck glanced at me, then smiled at the men. He moved so quickly that I didn’t realize he’d drawn his weapon until it was aimed at them. “I’ve got my own password—Smith and Wesson.” His smile slipped away. “Step aside, unless you want to go to jail.”

  If looks could kill, we would have both been dead. The two men sauntered off, mumbling something about taking care of us when we weren’t expecting it.

  “Nice guys,” I said, as we made our way up the sidewalk. “It’s times like this that I miss having Bernie around.”

  Buck glanced at me. “Maybe our plan with Dunbar should be simple. We just threaten to have him take a bite out of the acting chief’s ass unless he lets him back on the force.”

  “I’d consider it, but Bernie has better taste.”

  Kristoff’s condo was on the second floor. We rang the bell several times, but didn’t get a response. I saw that a woman in the next unit over was looking through her curtains as we announced ourselves without getting a response. I went over and knocked on her door.

  When she cracked her door open a few inches, I showed her my ID and asked her about Kristoff. “Do you know if she’s home?”

  The woman was heavyset, about fifty. Her eyes shifted as she spoke, making me think she knew some of the local gang bangers were watching her. “What you want with her?”

  “We just need to ask her a few questions about an investigation.”

  The door remained only partially open, but she lowered her voice, confiding, “Haven’t seen her since yesterday. I hope she’s okay.”

  I played a hunch. “Has somebody been bothering her?”

  There was more eye movement as she said, “Some guy was hanging around here last night. I went to bed around ten, but he was still in the courtyard downstairs. I thought maybe he was waiting for her.”

  Buck had joined us. “Did you recognize him?”

  She shook her head. “Never seen him before.”

  We thanked her and a few minutes later found the building’s superintendent. He reluctantly agreed to let us into Kristoff’s apartment to check on her welfare, but also seemed wary of us. I had the impression that no one in the complex trusted or liked the police.

  After checking Kristoff’s living room and kitchen area, we found her in the unit’s only bedroom. She was lying on her bed, with an empty bottle of Seconal on the nightstand.

 
“Looks like she’s been dead for several hours,” Buck said, after checking the body.

  I found a note on the nightstand, next to the sleeping pills, and read it aloud. “I can’t live, knowing what I did to Cole. I’m sorry for everything.”

  My brows came together as I looked up at Buck. “What do you think?”

  “I think whoever killed the Alpha also killed his Beta and tried to make it look like suicide.”

  FORTY-ONE

  We spent most of the day at Kristoff’s condo, processing the scene and working with Earl Mumford, the deputy coroner assigned to the case, along with Kathy Maitland from SID.

  After a couple of hours, Maitland gave us her thoughts. “There’s nothing in the way of trace evidence or prints, other than those belonging to our victim. I’m no expert, but the handwriting on the suicide note looks similar to a grocery list we found on the kitchen counter that Kristoff probably wrote. Of course, there’s always the possibility that someone forced her to write it.”

  Our deputy coroner wasn’t much help, either. After spending about an hour examining the body, I asked Mumford for his preliminary results.

  “I’d say your victim is dead,” Mumford said. His fleshy face was expressionless.

  I glanced at Buck, then looked back at Mumford. “Really? Maybe you should become a medical examiner.” I’d had prior run-ins with the lazy slug and was in no mood for his lack of cooperation. “What else?”

  We got more deadpan looks, except Mumford was now chewing on a toothpick. He was about fifty pounds overweight, with oily skin and bug eyes.

  “I’d say there’s almost a hundred percent chance that she’s going to stay dead,” Mumford said.

  I raised my voice. “If you’re trying to piss me off, you just succeeded. What about a time of death?”

  He shrugged. “Probably sometime last night. I might be able to give you something more after I slice her open.”

  Maybe it was the long day I’d had, or the fact that Bernie might be reassigned, or the fact that Earl Mumford was a worthless POS, but I lost it. “One of these days, someone’s going to murder you for being an arrogant, worthless human being.”