by M. Z. Kelly
Myra keeps the gun trained on her husband as she retrieves the keys and his cap. She tosses them to him.
“Let’s go to the party,” she says in the voice of Karma’s business manager, Barbara Collins. “Tonight, Bobby, you’re my driver. You’re the chauffeur of death.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Just before we were scheduled to land in Los Angeles, we received the arrest and conviction reports on Lenore Hastings, as well as the mug shots from her arrest in Texas. While Mack reviewed the reports, I got on the phone with Charlie, letting him know what we’d found out.
“There’s no doubt that Lenore Hastings is Karma’s sister,” I said. “The killings are, at least in part, acts of revenge maybe due to jealousy over Karma’s success. Mackenzie and I are sure that she’s planning to kill Karma as the final act in a series of killings, just as we learned from the website Agent Dressler showed us.”
“I wonder why Karma never told us about her father being murdered and having a half-sister,” Charlie said.
“She altered her past to keep it out of the press. I think Karma’s very secretive, by nature, and didn’t even want the police knowing what really happened to her father.”
“I’m not sure how I inform the taskforce about all this without Skully knowing you’re still working the case.”
“Go ahead and tell him. What I do on my vacation time is my own business.”
“Yeah, but you know he’ll make a federal case out of it, Kate. He’s wanting to put the big hurt on you.”
“What’s going on with Harley Porter?” I asked, changing the subject because the thought of Skully made my blood pressure rise.
“We leaned on him until he finally admitted having an affair with Rose Harris. She came on to him pretty hard. He told us he thought it was so that Myra could get access to Jackson and Karma, use them as a connection to break into the music scene. But he didn’t care. Porter said he was just enjoying the fringe benefits.”
I saw Mack motioning to me. I said to Charlie, “If there’s anything interesting I’ll call you after we review the reports. We’ll also send the mug shots of Lenore your way.”
“Okay, but since everyone at the party is wearing a costume I’m not sure the mugs will help much.”
“What do you think the chances are that Skully will let me back in?” I asked before ending the call.
“The same chance that pigs fly and the devil shows up at the party.”
After ending the call, I sat across from Mack at a work station. He handed over the mug shot of Lenore Hastings.
The young woman in the photograph, taken after her arrest over a dozen years earlier, looked almost nothing like the woman in the videotape who had sex with Rose Harris before murdering her.
“I wonder if we have the right woman,” I said to Mack, noticing that the nose and jaw line of Lenore Hastings, a rather plain-looking young woman, bore little resemblance to the photos of Myra.
Mack stroked his chin. “It has to be her. But you’re right, there isn’t much of a similarity.”
“Plastic surgery?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible.”
I set the photos aside. “Anything in the arrest or sentencing reports that looks interesting?”
Mack slid a copy of the reports across the desk to me. “The crime occurred in the victim’s home. A neighbor heard some screaming and found Lenore holding a knife after she slit her mother’s throat. The sentencing reports say that she never gave a reason for the crime. The court appointed psychiatrist found her insane. She spent eight years in the Havenhurst Psychiatric Hospital outside of Houston.”
“But she was found sane and released from the hospital eight years later,” I said. “I wonder what she did to convince the doctors to release her?”
Mack skimmed the additional reports for a couple of minutes before glancing up at me. “She told the psychiatrists that she’d been using drugs when the crime occurred. She blamed her mother for abandoning her. She was also angry because she’d been molested as a child.”
We heard the pilot over the intercom telling us to prepare for landing.
I buckled my seatbelt and stared at the mug shots of Lenore Hastings when something clicked, and it wasn’t just the seat buckle. “Plastic surgery,” I said to Mack.
“Never thought about it. Guess I’ll have to live with what God gave me.”
“No. I’m talking about Lenore and Karma. There was a man that I met at Karma’s estate a few days ago, but I can’t remember his name. He’s Karma’s personal physician. I remember reading in the FBI background reports that his specialty is plastic surgery.”
“What makes you think there’s a connection?”
I punched a number into my phone and held up a finger. “Let me make a quick call.”
“It’s against the rules. We’re landing.”
“Call a cop.” A moment later, I had Natalie on the phone. “I need to ask you about Karma’s plastic surgeon.”
“Your nose is fine,” Natalie said. “I don’t care what anyone says.”
Why was everyone suddenly a comedian? “His name, Natalie. Do you remember his name?”
“I think he’s on the guest list. Give me a sec.” I heard some papers rustling and voices in the background, and realized she was already at the party. When she came back on the line, she said, “Dr. Adam Shaw.”
“Can you keep an eye on him while I do some checking?”
“I’ll try, but it’s like a mad circus here already. I didn’t even recognize, Mo, at first. She’s dressed as a clown.”
I thanked Natalie and ended the call. I told Mack the plastic surgeon’s name. “I wonder if there’s a way we can tie the doctor to Lenore?”
“We could check and see if he ever visited her while she was in jail or the psychiatric hospital.”
The plane taxied to a stop as I got Havenhurst Psychiatric Hospital on the line. We were moving off the plane, hurrying toward a waiting helicopter that Mack had arranged, when the records clerk came on the line. I identified myself and explained what I needed.
“You’re in luck,” the clerk said. “We just electronically scanned all of our records into our computer system, including visitation information. What’s the name of the subject you’re looking for?”
“Adam Shaw. He’s a physician, so the records may reflect that. He would have visited Lenore Hastings before her release from the hospital in 2008.”
We were in-flight, headed for Karma’s estate in Holmby Hills, the airship’s rotors making a steady thump as they cut through the air, when the clerk came back on the line.
“Yes, we have a record of Dr. Shaw visiting Ms. Hastings. He was coming to see her frequently, especially during the last two years before she was released.”
I ended the call, turned to Mack, and said over the roar of the engines, “We’ve got him. I know who Azazel is.”
Chapter Fifty
“Get up and shut up,” Myra says, pointing the gun at Bobby Collins’ head. “Tonight you’re working for me, not Karma.”
Bobby’s voice chokes with emotion. “You’ll never get away with this.”
“I guess we’ll see about that.” She sees the fear in his eyes, turns him toward the door, and pushes the gun hard into his back. “Let’s go.”
When they get to the door he turns back to her, brushing his tears. “What happens to me after I drive you to Karma’s?”
Myra moves closer to him, points the weapon at his face again. “You have one final thing to do, then you will never have to see me again. Drive me past the police line, onto the grounds of the estate. After that, we go our separate ways. You can call the police or do whatever. I don’t care.”
“What are you planning to do?”
Myra motions to the front door. “Let’s go. No more talk.”
The drive to Karma’s estate is uneventful, except for a couple of times when Bobby’s anger turns to tears. Myra uses threats of violence to keep him on task. She hopes that
he can keep it together when they get to the police checkpoint at the gate to the estate.
Five years, that’s how long she’s been with Bobby. Every day they’ve been together has filled her with rage and disgust. Azazel had told her that she needed to establish a background so that she would fit in and no one would suspect her real motives. Myra remembers befriending the lost young man in a coffee shop. How they began dating and she told him the story about being abused by her former husband.
That part was true. Bobby was so gullible, he agreed to change his name, using the identities and social security numbers that Azazel had provided. She was able to get him the job as Karma’s chauffeur only after fucking Vee, promising her continued sexual favors in exchange for Bobby’s employment. Once Bobby had the job, she slowly befriended Karma, eventually gaining her trust and becoming her business manager.
That’s when the whole scheme began to finally pay off. She set up the accounting system with two sets of books, secretly skimming millions from Karma’s concerts, all of it going to Azazel.
“It’s our retirement account,” Azazel had said. “We take the money and when everything is over we buy an island.”
Myra remembers how she also used her position to get to know her sister, Karma’s habits and desires. She realized Karma was attracted to her one night when she came on to her. Myra almost laughs out loud when she thinks about her sister’s awkward attempt to kiss her. What would Karma have thought if she’d known she was trying to fuck her own sister?
None of it really matters now. All that matters is that Karma’s a weakling who uses the fat bitch, Vee, to meet her emotional and physical needs.
She could have easily killed her sister years ago, but Azazel wanted her to wait until they had millions in the bank. There was also the matter of the Predators. She was told that they wanted her to use her position to take revenge, first by having an affair with Karma’s fiancé, before killing everyone close to the superstar.
The final act of revenge will be the dramatic murder of her famous sister, all of it unfolding over the Internet for the benefit of the Predators. Myra’s limbs shake with rage when she thinks about the life of privilege Karma has lived. Karma’s a bitch. Killing the bitch before marrying Azazel and going away with him will make everything worthwhile.
Up ahead, Myra sees the gates to Karma’s estate and orders her husband to slow down.
“We’re going to do this just like it’s any other night,” she says to Bobby. “You show your credentials and I’ll show my identification. We do it without emotion, with no secret signals to the cops. If you deviate from the plan in any way, I will blow your head off your shoulders without hesitation.”
A few minutes later, after waiting in the line of cars entering the estate, Bobby and Barbara Collins show their identification and are waved onto the grounds.
“Park in the private garage, away from the residence,” Myra orders, pushing the gun into the back of her husband’s neck.
The garage opens and they park, the doors closing behind them. Myra twists the suppressor onto the gun barrel, orders Bobby out of the car.
She brings the gun up to her husband’s face. “This is payback for all the years I spent having to fuck you.”
Myra unloads two in his face. Bobby Collins’ brains are sprayed across the hood of the limousine. Her laughter splits the air as her husband’s lifeless body slumps to the concrete floor. She switches on the miniature camera affixed to the nurse’s cap she wears and moves out.
The real predator is on the hunt again.
Chapter Fifty-One
After a brief stop, our helicopter banked and accelerated. Minutes later we circled the helipad above Karma’s mansion. I made a call.
“Skully, it’s Kate Sexton. I’m with Hudson Mackenzie in the airship circling the estate above your head. We’re going to land. I’ve got information on Myra’s identity, as well as Azazel.”
I turned my phone on speaker as Skully responded with something that bordered on rage.
“Listen to me carefully, Detective. You will not land, you will not continue to be involved in this investigation, and you will not contact me until I notify you of your new assignment. I will not allow you to continue to jeopardize this operation. You are acting outside the scope of your authority and my directives. Police administration will be advised of your actions.”
“That’s not necessary,” I said. “I’ve already taken care of it.”
“What are you talking about?”
I handed my phone to Tom Reed, LAPD’s chief of police. We’d picked him up after stopping at a helipad near police administration on the way to the estate after I’d called and filled him in on everything.
“Listen to me carefully, Captain Skully,” Reed said, his voice resonating with authority. The chief was in his late fifties, with intense dark eyes and a full head of brown hair turning to gray. “Detective Sexton is back on the taskforce. You and the other officers will stand down and allow us to land. She and Mr. Mackenzie have information vital to this investigation.”
I smiled as Skully tried a final protest that came off sounding like a little boy whining as he told Chief Reed that I was insubordinate.
“Detective Sexton’s back in,” Reed affirmed. “We’re landing now.”
I thanked the chief, who I’d only recently met due to Bernie’s heroics on the last case we’d worked. After I’d filled him in on the details we’d learned, he advised that he was personally taking over the LAPD side of the taskforce.
Ten minutes later, we landed, distributed information on Myra, including her mug shot, and revealed the identity of Azazel. Several of the officers were assigned to find and take down Dr. Adam Shaw.
Mack and I headed toward the residence, passing a multitude of ghouls, zombies, and goblins, most of them dressed in green. The costumes were all elaborate. I wondered how we’d ever locate Myra and her physician.
As we approached Karma’s massive home, we ran into Natalie and Mo. Natalie had on a green genie outfit, while Mo wore a scary clown costume with spiked green hair that would probably traumatize young children for life.
I took a moment, introduced my friends to Mack, and filled them in on the identity of Azazel.
“I thought that Dr. Shaw bloke might be the devil himself after you called,” Natalie said. “Had me an eye out for the wankstain, but haven’t seen him.”
“I was chat’n with Karma about him the other day,” Mo said. “She calls him her body sculptor. He’s got complete access to her.”
We discussed the situation for a few moments before we heard screams coming from the patio behind the house. We ran toward the commotion.
In the courtyard of Karma’s home we found a small army of officers, including Charlie and Pearl, surrounding someone or something on the ground.
We pushed through the throng and saw the body of a woman. She was wearing a flowing green gown. A crown was still attached to a head that was nearly severed from her neck. Karma’s FFF, Vee, was dead.
Natalie looked over at me and said, “Looks like the queen has lost her head.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
The killing of Karma’s best friend happens at the same time a helicopter lands at the estate. They both work to Myra’s advantage as a distraction. Before she dies, Vee tells Myra, who she knows as Barbara Collins, that the superstar is with a small group of friends near the swimming pool at the opposite end of the grounds.
Myra moves in for the final kill, feeling a tingle of electricity erupting behind her dark eyes. It’s just a little buzzing at first, but as she moves forward it catches fire, until a blaze roars up inside her. The inferno explodes, pulsing through her body and propelling her forward with a single purpose.
She moves through a gate toward the lavish swimming pool and sees her sister. Myra stops, studying Karma.
The inferno simmering inside her kicks down a notch, burning just below the boiling point. Her head drops down and her eyes close. The voice
of a child surfaces. Myra is in the shadows of her former life, traveling back in time, unable to pull herself back to the present. She is in the dark regions of childhood, seeing herself as the young girl named Lenore.
***
“Where are we going?” Lenore asks her foster father.
She’s nine years-old and wears a white dress with little yellow flowers on the sleeves and collar. Her shoes are shiny and black, not the ones she wears every day. Her father bought the outfit for her. It was his way of telling her that this will be a very special day.
Father is a big man with a belly that scrapes against the steering wheel as he drives. He turns to her. Lenore sees that his eyes are different. They are like two black holes that slide over her, examining something unseen. The voice she hears is also changed. It doesn’t come from the man who leaves her alone in their apartment for hours at a time. This is the voice of someone different, someone changed.
“Remember when we found that kitten in the abandoned house a few months ago?” her father says.
“I wanted to take her home.” Lenore remembers the starving brown and white kitten. “You wouldn’t let me.”
“The kitten ran back and forth around the room when you chased after it.”
Lenore nods. “It was scared.”
Her father smiles, exposing crooked yellow teeth. “You can’t be like the kitten, Lenore. You must not run away. I want you to be brave.”
The car drives through some gates toward a large house. Up the driveway, Lenore can see a white façade. There’s a porch with large redbrick columns. She has never seen such a big house before. A lump forms in her throat.
“Why are we here?” Lenore asks as her father parks the car.
He motions to the darkening woods around them and the house rising on a knoll up ahead. “There are wild animals here, Lenore. They will eat you if you don’t do what you are told. They will eat you all up, until there is nothing left. Remember that.”
Lenore runs a trembling hand over her dress, smoothing out the white material. A tear slips down her cheek. “I will be good, Daddy. I don’t want to be eaten.”