Hollywood Prisoner: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller

by M. Z. Kelly

  The police units fell behind when Hopkins took a narrow, winding lane through the hills before returning to surface streets. We got word from the highway patrol dispatch about what happened next.

  “Suspect was last seen beneath the overpass to the 405 and 101 freeway. Our units are there now. They have his motorcycle, but there’s no sign of the suspect.”

  By the time Mel, Darby, and I got there, we learned what happened from an on-scene sergeant, who spoke to us over the roar of cars on the freeway above us. “He forced their car off the road and hijacked it.” I saw him motion to a family that was huddled together beneath the overpass. “Our units have the make and model of their car, but he apparently slipped away in the flow of traffic.”

  An hour later, we ended our search for Patrick Hopkins. He had done the impossible. While millions of TV viewers watched, helicopters circled overhead, and dozens of patrol cars were in pursuit, he’d gotten away in broad daylight.

  FIFTY-TWO

  We spent our afternoon questioning Abby O’Dell about what Patrick Hopkins had said and done while he held her captive. We learned that her former boyfriend had told her there was a lot more about what happened to Campbell Turner than anyone realized. He didn’t give her details, but said he was innocent and that if the truth ever came out about what happened, everyone would be shocked. Despite what Hopkins had purportedly said, O’Dell described him as a violent drunk and again told us she thought he was capable of murder.

  After leaving work, Natalie called to remind me that she and Mo had a meeting with Howie to plan her payback for Izzy’s cheating. After my crazy day, I was in no mood for their nonsense, but she said they were going to get together with Howie in the back room at Musso & Frank’s, where his uncle was a waiter. I loved the food at the iconic Hollywood eatery and agreed to stop by for a few minutes on my way home. After finding my friends in a private room with Forrest Gump, I almost turned around and left.

  “Mama always said Kate is like a box of chocolates,” Howie said, in the persona of the Tom Hanks movie character, as I took a seat at a table with him and my friends. He was wearing a tan suit and checkered shirt, buttoned to the top, like Forrest Gump from the film. “You never know if you’re gonna get grumpy Kate or depressed Kate.”

  While Natalie and Mo laughed, a server from the bar brought me a martini, even though I’d just sat down and hadn’t ordered anything.

  “It’s called a Splat,” Natalie said, referencing the drink she’d ordered for me. “Two of those and there’s a good chance you’ll just fall down and go splat.”

  I glanced at Bernie, who was eyeballing some shrimp appetizers Mo was downing, and said, “If I go splat, promise to drag me home.”

  “Mama also said stupid is as stupid does,” Howie, or Forrest, said.

  There was more laughter that, I decided, I could only deal with by taking a big sip of my Splat. It tasted like a Manhattan on steroids, with enough whiskey to open a distillery.

  While Howie went off to find his uncle, my friends asked me about my day. Natalie told me, “We saw that crazy chase on the telly. Do you think that Hopkins guy whacked Campbell?”

  Hopkins’ name had somehow been picked up by the media, along with the fact that he was Campbell’s ex-boyfriend and might have had a hand in killing her.

  “It’s too soon to say,” I told her. “He’s just wanted for questioning and several traffic violations at this point.”

  “I heard some bad shit on the street ‘bout him,” Mo said, munching on her appetizer. “Word has it he’s crazier than a bird in a bucket of turds. You ask me, he had a hand in what happened to that poor girl.”

  “That might be the case. Time will tell.”

  Mo, who was wearing green dreadlocks tonight, fixed one of her dark eyes on me. “You doin’ okay, Kate?”

  I exhaled. “I’m fine, just a little exhausted and worried about Lindsay.” I went on for a moment, telling them I hadn’t heard from her or Jenson Moore.

  Natalie took a gulp of her Splat and asked me, “Any word on Pearl, or info about that bloke you found in the photograph in his closet?”

  “Nothing, and I think the department is spinning its wheels on my father’s investigation.”

  Natalie slapped me on the back. “Cheer up. We got us that appointment with Carla Manson comin’ up. She’s gonna help us both find new guys, make us feel like new women.”

  I had visions of sitting in a shrink’s office, with a woman who looked like Charles Manson, as Howie came back into the room. He told everyone, “Earl’s bringing us the works, everything from peas to carrots.”

  “Earl?” I said to my friends.

  “Howie’s uncle,” Mo said. She looked at Howie, or Forrest. “I’m gonna need me something more substantial than veggies.”

  “It’s just an expression,” Natalie assured her. “Earl’s gonna bring us Philly Minion.”

  “What?” I said.

  “I think baby sis means filet mignon,” Mo told me.

  As Earl arrived, introduced himself, and began delivering mounds of food, Natalie began the discussion about the payback for her cheating boyfriend. “I want something big, something that will make the cheatin’ wazzock never forget what he did.”

  “I gotta pee,” Howie said, getting up and dashing out of the room.

  “The boy’s got his priorities,” Earl said, still delivering enough food to feed an army.

  “Has Howie always been the way he is?” Natalie asked him. “I mean, a little on the different side.”

  Earl regarded her. “You’re just lucky you haven’t seen his Freddie Krueger personality.” Howie’s uncle, who was in his fifties, with a slightly manic look, then fixed his eyes on us all. “None of you would ever be the same.”

  Howie came back into the room and got right down to business, telling us about his plans for Izzy’s performance. “I’m still a part-time assistant during his magic show, so I’m in the perfect position to perform a miracle.”

  “A miracle?” Mo said. “We just wanna have Izzy end up being a fool, not walk on water.”

  “Mama said miracles happen all the time,” Howie told her. “You just gotta look for them.”

  “What’s on your mind?” Natalie asked him.

  Howie held up a hand and opened it as though it contained an invisible bird that he was releasing. “The greatest magic isn’t what you see,” he said, “it’s what you don’t.”

  “Huh?” Mo said. She looked at me, chewing. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means,” Howie told her before I could answer, “that Izzy’s greatest illusion will be exposed for everyone to see. You just need to trust me.”

  Natalie was working on her second Splat and gave us her thoughts. “I’m up for whatever you got in mind. Just make sure it’s spectacular.”

  “Mama will be proud,” Izzy said, in the voice of Forrest Gump. “I’m not a smart man, but I know what magic is.”

  We spent the next hour stuffing our faces. After we’d settled our bill and were on the sidewalk, Howie said his goodbyes, then added, “Did you know I can run like the wind...” He hesitated, scratching his head. “Or is it break wind and run?”

  A moment later he was sprinting down the sidewalk and disappeared around a corner.

  “I’ve never met anyone quite like him,” I told my friends.

  Mo shook her dreadlocked head, agreeing with me, and in her best Forrest Gump voice said, “Life is like a box of chocolates, and you never know which ones are full of nuts.”

  FIFTY-THREE

  When I got home I took a long, hot shower, cursing the fact that I’d eaten half the food in Hollywood. I was watching a TV program about couples who went on dates in the nude and trying to imagine myself in their circumstances when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number as I answered.

  “Kate, it’s me,” the subdued female caller said.

  My sister’s voice sounded weak and strained, but I would recognize it anywher
e. “Lindsay! Are you okay?”

  “I’m...I need to meet with someone.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m...I’m not sure. Do you know a man named John Greer?”

  “Yes. He’s...he was Joe Dawson’s boss.”

  “I...I need to talk to him...tomorrow. It’s about what’s going to happen. Can you arrange for us to meet?”

  “He’s with the FBI. I can take you to see him in the morning.”

  After a hesitation, she came back on the line. “Okay, I’ll meet you at the police station at ten. You can take me from there.”

  “Why do you need to see Greer? What’s going to happen?”

  “I can’t talk anymore. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Lindsay!”

  The line went dead. I hit redial, but no one picked up. I then called a technical analyst I knew with SID and had her try and trace where the call had originated. I got a call back, telling me there was a hit on a cell tower in Long Beach, but nothing more definitive.

  It then took me an hour to track down John Greer. When I got him on the line, I explained what was happening. “Lindsay said she needs to meet with you about what’s going to happen next. She wouldn’t give me any other information, but I told her I would meet her at Hollywood Station, then bring her to the FBI building.”

  “We’ll have our people watching your station. If Jenson Moore is with her or he drops her off, we’ll take him down.”

  “Just be careful. I don’t want Lindsay hurt.”

  “Understood. See you downtown in the morning, if not sooner.”

  Lindsay’s call had left me restless and full of anxiety. An hour later, I went to bed, but as I tried to sleep, the what if’s constantly ran through my mind.

  What if Lindsay showed up wearing a suicide vest again? What if my sister was actually working for Jenson Moore and wasn’t on our side? And, what if Lindsay had already been targeted by Moore to die after she delivered his message?

  I spent a long, sleepless night, reliving the long, tortuous road that had brought me to this moment. I realized that my path had been full of people I’d never really known. I had a sister who I never knew existed until a few months ago. There was also my biological mother, someone I’d only met on her deathbed. My adoptive father then came to mind. While some vague memories about him had finally begun to surface, I’d never really known him either.

  I knew in that moment that my entire life had been shrouded in mystery. And then another unknown came to mind, the biggest mystery of all. Who was the father I’d never met, the man who had disowned me when I was born?

  My entire life felt like it was crashing down around me. The power I’d felt after my meeting with Francesca now seemed lost. Something told me that tomorrow would either be a turning point in everything or it would signal the beginning of the end; the final thing that would push me so far into the darkness that I might never see the light again.

  FIFTY-FOUR

  Bernie and I got to work an hour early, both because I couldn’t sleep and because I wanted to be sure I was there when Lindsay showed up. My biggest fear was that my sister would be under some kind of duress, either wearing the suicide vest again or suffering some other form of harm. I’d informed Lieutenant Edna of what was happening last night and met him in his office when he got in.

  “The feds and the department already have snipers in place on the roof and on the buildings across the street,” Edna said. “Public safety is their top priority.”

  The lieutenant and the brass had been apprised of my prior meeting with my sister and that she’d been wearing a suicide vest at the time. I worried that someone would overreact and put Lindsay in jeopardy. I realized that I had no choice but to keep those fears to myself, knowing that the response was out of my hands.

  Leo showed up for work at eight, and I asked him about his granddaughter.

  He looked tired as he said, “Meg’s doing much better, finally home.”

  “And how is grandpa doing?”

  He smiled. “I’m not much for bedside manners, better off being here. Fill me in on what’s been happening.”

  I took a few minutes, telling him about Lindsay and also updating him on our cases and the search for Patrick Hopkins. “I think Hopkins is the key to what’s been happening,” I said. “We just have to find him.”

  He agreed with me, adding, “You worry about Lindsay. We’ll take care of Hopkins.”

  My conversation with Woody and Harry crossed my mind. I told him what they’d learned about Tom Knight. “Did you know him or ever hear about his disappearance?”

  He scratched his bald head. “I think I was working out of Metro at the time, but I remember hearing something about it. Never met the guy.”

  As the hour for Lindsay’s arrival came and went, I was ready to jump out of my skin. A half hour later, I got a call from one of the patrol units.

  “We’ve got a woman over here who says she’s your sister,” Officer Tom Oxford said. “She’s...”

  “Where is she?” I demanded.

  “On Lexington, not too far from Fountain Avenue.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She’s got lots of cuts and scrapes, but won’t say what happened. She looks like she’s been abused.”

  I got their location and told them I would meet them there. After informing Edna about what was going on, the feds got involved and tried to prevent me from leaving.

  One of their agents, a big guy named Walsh, tried to block my path. “We need to check out the situation before you get involved.”

  I locked eyes with him and stood inches from his face. “Get out of my way. Now. Special Agent Greer has authorized my involvement.”

  It was a lie, but it worked. Walsh and the others backed off. Fifteen minutes later, Bernie and I met up on the street with the uniformed officers and my sister—at least what had once been my sister.

  “Lindsay, are you okay?” I asked, as I sat on the curb next to her. She had several cuts and bruises on her face. She was dirty and her blouse was ripped. It was obvious she’d been beaten.

  “Greer,” she managed, pushing her hair off her forehead and looking at me. “You need to take me to see him.”

  Over the objections of the officers who wanted to call an ambulance, I got Lindsay in my car and began heading for FBI headquarters in Los Angeles.

  “Tell me what happened to you,” I said to her as I drove.

  She exhaled and cleared her throat. “Jenson Moore...he made me promise...”

  She didn’t go on. “Promise what?” The traffic was heavy and I had to look away from her for an instant. When I looked back, I was so shocked by what I saw that I nearly ran off the road.

  My sister, the young woman I’d been determined to save, had a gun aimed at my head.

  FIFTY-FIVE

  “Lindsay, what are you doing?”

  She sighed. “I’m doing what I have to. You need to pull off the freeway.”

  “Please...”

  “Now, Kate. I mean what I’m saying.”

  The gun was still pointed at me, and I realized I had no choice but to do as she said. I took the off ramp to Silver Lake Boulevard and turned onto Temple Street.

  “What now?” I said.

  She motioned to a small park that was up ahead. “Over there. I want you to pull into the parking lot.”

  I hesitated. “Lindsay, please, let me help you.”

  She motioned with the gun. “Do what I said.”

  In a couple minutes, I’d pulled over at the park. It was still early, with only a few cars in the parking lot and a scattering of people walking along a path in the distance. I turned off the ignition and looked at my sister. I saw there were tears in her eyes.

  I lowered my voice, dreading the answer to the question I was about to ask. “What are you going to do?”

  She took a couple deep breaths and tried to stem her tears. “I have...I have to...to kill you.”

  “Why? What’s that goi
ng to prove? Jenson Moore will still be out there, and...”

  Her voice was full of emotion. “You don’t understand. It’s for the children.”

  “What children?” She didn’t respond. “Lindsay, please, tell me what’s going on.”

  Her emotions completely took over and she broke down. The gun tumbled out of her hand and fell onto the floorboard. I quickly reached over and picked it up.

  I took her by the arm and forced her to look at me, raising my voice. “Tell me what’s going to happen.”

  Lindsay’s green eyes, which were the same color as mine and full of tears, found me. “I’m so sorry, Kate. I could never hurt you, but Mr. Moore told me...” She brushed the stream of water from her cheeks. “...he would kill the children.”

  “What children? What are you talking about?”

  “He’s going to blow up the park using a drone.”

  I glanced over at the grassy area where people were walking. “You mean this park?”

  “No.” A flood of tears sprang from her eyes again as she choked out, “I’m talking about Disneyland.”

  FIFTY-SIX

  I got John Greer on the line. “The attack is going to be on Disneyland. My sister thinks Moore is going to use a drone. We’ve got to evacuate the park now.”

  “We’ll get the word out immediately,” Greer said. “Where are you? Our agents lost you when you got off the freeway.”

  “I’m with my sister, near Silver Lake Boulevard. I’ll bring her to headquarters so she can be debriefed.”

  I had no idea how the FBI planned to deal with the attack until Lindsay and I got to the FBI building. We were immediately ushered into an upper story office, where Greer and his team were gathered. There was a large TV monitor set up at one end of the room, showing real time events in and around Disneyland. I then realized Joe Dawson was also in the room.

  “Nice to see you,” I said, taking a seat next to him with Lindsay, while Bernie settled at my feet.