by M. Z. Kelly
When she got to her car, Emily took a moment to call her boss. “I’m not feeling well and won’t be in today.”
“What’s the matter with you?” Robert demanded. “We’re short on coverage today.”
“I just told you. I’m sick.”
“Don’t take an attitude with me, young lady. I won’t stand for it.”
Emily wanted to scream, but managed to control her emotions enough to say, “Deal with it, Robert.”
After she ended the call, she made her way through heavy traffic to Derek’s office. When she arrived in the tenth-floor accounting offices, she was out of breath and desperate.
“I need to speak with Derek Jennings,” she told the receptionist.
The woman looked up from the magazine on the desk in front of her. “He’s in a meeting, I don’t expect him to be through for at least another hour.”
“This is an emergency. I need to talk to him. Now.”
The receptionist scowled but picked up her phone. “I’ll let him know.”
Moments later, Derek arrived in the lobby and came over to her. “What’s going on?”
“Something’s happened,” Emily said, as her tears started. “We need to talk.”
“But I’m...I can’t just leave.”
Emily controlled her emotions. “This is important. You have to listen to me.”
An older man, who she assumed was Derek’s boss, came up behind him. He placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Why don’t you take a break. We’ll pick things up when you’re ready.”
As they rode the elevator to the downstairs lobby, Emily’s emotions were on overload again. Derek repeatedly asked her what was wrong, but she was so distraught she was unable to respond.
When they got downstairs, they walked to the park across the street, as she tried to regain some control. They stopped near a fountain, where Derek turned her in his arms and said, “Whatever it is, I want you to know I’m here for you. Please, tell me what’s the matter.”
Emily brushed the tears from her cheeks and took a breath. It took her some time, but she finally found her voice. “There’s something you need to know about me.”
“What is it?”
She took another breath and dabbed her eyes, as her heart beat wildly. “My name isn’t Emily.”
Derek looked into her watery eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“My real name is...”
She stopped in mid-sentence, seeing the man from her museum tour coming up behind Derek. He was the same man who had been on TV. Then her eyes grew wider. He was holding a gun.
“Wh...what do you want?” Emily asked, her voice trembling.
The man pointed the weapon at her and said, “You.”
Derek turned, seeing the man and the gun. “What’s going on?”
The man didn’t respond. Instead, he moved the gun in Derek’s direction. He pulled the trigger twice, killing him instantly.
“Why?” she screamed, as she bent down to Derek. “Why are you doing this?”
Nathan Caine smiled and pulled her up by the arm. “You’ll know soon enough, Lindsay.”
TWENTY-TWO
On our way to Mogul Studios in Hollywood, Leo mentioned what Stephanie McVey had said about Sorin Chemicals. “The company is still in business, despite the article that John McVey wrote.”
“How is that possible?” Olivia asked as she drove us.
“They covered up the effects of their chemicals for years, knowing they caused birth defects. They also hired a small army of lobbyists who contributed to the campaigns of a lot of members of Congress. I think maybe the story got buried, and nothing ever came of it.”
“That’s terrible.”
“It’s criminal, if you ask me,” I said. “There’s nothing more important than protecting children.”
We drove in silence for a minute before Olivia said, “Let’s have Jenny and Molly do a workup on Sorin Chemicals, see if anyone held a grudge because of what McVey wrote.” Olivia met my eyes for a moment. “By the way, I’m glad you’re back. Another day with Al and my Corbin migraines would have become terminal.”
“I was hoping you two might have bonded, and Al would become your permanent partner,” Leo said, chuckling.
Olivia glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “He’s all yours.” She looked at me again. “I heard some rumors about Pearl maybe knowing what happened to your bio-dad.”
I took a moment to fill her in, adding, “With both Harlee and Caine dead, I’m feeling like I might never know the truth.”
She reached over and touched my arm. “Never say never.” She pulled up at the gates to Mogul Studios. “In the meantime, let’s see what the moviemakers have to say about Gina Spence.”
After checking in with the guard, we made our way across the backlot of the busy studio.
“It looks like the place is doing well,” Olivia said.
Leo agreed, adding, “I heard they’re doing a remake of Dead by Diamonds.”
“Sounds like a Bond movie,” I said.
“Zombies. The recently dead become reanimated and target wealthy women.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Sounds lovely. As if women don’t have enough trouble in this world, now they’ve got to worry about zombies.”
After checking in with the receptionist in the main lobby and asking to see Robert Zemaris, the head of the studio, we were met by Roger Daily.
“I’m afraid Mr. Zemaris is in meetings. I’m his assistant,” Daily said, after greeting us. He was a jocular little man, on the heavy side, and impeccably dressed in an expensive suit. “We can meet in our glass room.”
The glass room, as we soon learned, was a room built entirely of mirrors and glass. It gave the impression of being in a see-through cage, even though Daily assured us of its privacy.
“The room was built for one of our sci-fi movies,” Zemaris’s assistant explained, after we took seats at the table. “No one can see in, despite us being able to see everything on the backlot.” He chuckled. “You could be standing here, completely nude, and see everyone outside the room, but no one could see you.”
Olivia raised her brows. “That’s reassuring, I guess.” She got down to business. “We’re here about a woman who was the recent victim of a homicide. Her name was Gina Spence.”
“Gina, of course.” Daily’s heavy features grew serious. “Homicide?” He took a breath. “Are you sure? I mean...I can’t really believe what you’re telling me.”
“We’re sure. She was murdered in a parking garage not far from here a few nights ago. What can you tell us about her work here at the studio?”
“I just remember chatting with her a couple of weeks ago. She was a beautiful woman...” He tugged at the sleeve of his expensive suitcoat. “...not that I’m interested in someone like that. She was here auditioning for a small walk-on part in Hermes.”
“Hermes?”
“It’s a historical drama that’s in pre-production.”
I gave voice to something he’d said that I’d picked up on. “You said you weren’t interested in someone like that when you talked about Ms. Spence. What did you mean?”
Daily huffed out a breath, obviously irritated. “In case you’re wondering, I’m gay. That’s all I meant.”
“Did Spence get the part in the movie?” Leo asked.
“I’m not really sure. I can check, if you’d like.”
Leo nodded. “Please.”
Daily called someone he referred to as Monica. After the call ended, he told us. “Yes. McVey was scheduled for a small walk-on part in the movie.” He put his phone away. “If there’s nothing else, I have other duties.”
“We’re not through,” Olivia said, as he started to rise. “What can you tell us about Ms. Spence’s relationships here?”
“I can’t tell you anything.”
“Is there anyone she might have been close to?”
“I have no idea.”
“When she auditioned for the role, who did she
meet with?”
He shrugged. “Probably Jack Dennison. He’s with casting.”
“May we speak with him?”
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and made another call to Monica. When it ended, he said, “I’m afraid Mr. Dennison is scouting locations in Montana. He won’t be back for a few days.”
Olivia looked at Leo and me, giving the impression she was unhappy with Daily, but maybe at a loss as to how to proceed.
“May we speak to someone in your Human Resources department?” I said, deciding we had reached a dead end with Zemaris’s assistant.
“Why is that?”
I smiled, giving nothing up. “It’s just routine. Nothing to concern yourself with.”
Daily fumbled with his tie, heaved out a couple sighs. “I’m not sure anyone is available.”
I decided I’d had enough of the fussy little man. “Nonsense.”
“What?”
“You’re talking nonsense. Now, either you find someone in your HR department, or we’ll go find them ourselves.”
Daily ran a hand across his now shiny forehead, his gaze moving off. “All right. You would find out, anyhow, so I’m going to level with you. Ms. Spence filed a complaint.”
“About?”
“She claimed she was being sexually harassed.”
“By?”
“Mr. Dennison, but we don’t believe there is any truth to the charges.”
“I see.” I looked at Olivia and Leo, then added, “Why don’t you go get the head of your HR department. We’ll wait.”
“I just told you what happened. There’s no point...”
“Enough,” I said, raising my voice. “This is a murder investigation. We’re not leaving until we talk to your HR person. Now, go find him or her.”
After Daily reluctantly left the room, I said, “Cover-up?”
“You got it,” Olivia said. “Mr. Daily was obviously acting under orders not to talk about what happened.”
“Not an unusual scenario,” Leo said, referencing what we all knew was common practice with some movie studios in Hollywood.
After a ten-minute wait, we were met by both Robert Zemaris, the head of the studio, and Donna Williams, the director of their HR department. Zemaris was in his fifties, with a full head of silver hair. I remembered seeing the famous director at previous Oscar ceremonies on TV. Daily had slumped down in a chair at the back of the room as Zemaris greeted us.
After introductions, the famous director told us, “In the interest of full disclosure, I’ve brought Ms. Williams along to explain what happened with Ms. Spence’s complaint.”
Williams, a plain woman in her forties, referenced some paperwork as she spoke. “Approximately two weeks ago, Ms. Spence came to our offices and filed a complaint against our casting director, Jack Dennison. She was assured her complaint would be thoroughly investigated, and there would be no repercussions for her coming forward.”
Olivia glanced at me, then said to Williams, “Exactly what was the nature of Ms. Spence’s complaint?”
“She said Mr. Dennison made inappropriate comments.”
Zemaris must have seen Olivia’s frustration. He said to his HR director. “Let’s be more specific.”
Williams cleared her throat, then read from her paperwork again. “Ms. Spence said that Mr. Dennison touched her breast and suggested that if she wanted a part in his film, she needed to have sex with him.”
“This situation was obviously inappropriate,” Zemaris told Olivia. “We planned to thoroughly investigate.”
“Does that include sending Mr. Dennison to Montana?” Olivia asked.
“The trip had been on the pre-production schedule for weeks. Since...since Ms. Spence is...deceased, there was no reason to change the schedule.”
Olivia glanced at Leo and me, shaking her head, as Leo said, “When is Mr. Dennison scheduled to return?”
“He should be back next week, but...you don’t think he’s a suspect, do you?”
“Let’s just say he’s a person of interest in our investigation. We’ll need to meet with him when he returns.”
Zemaris took a deep breath. “Ms. Williams will contact you when he’s available.” The director hesitated, then added, “I’m interested in cooperating fully in this matter. I don’t want anything to reflect negatively on the studio.”
Olivia stood and looked over at Daily, who was still in the corner of the room, picking lint off his coat. “Then maybe you should have a chat with your assistant.”
***
Since I was scheduled to have lunch with Joe, I had Olivia drop me at Poindexter’s on Santa Monica Boulevard and told her and Leo that I would see them back at the station. In the short time it had been open, the small restaurant had quickly become an In spot for locals, offering a delicious fare of hand-crafted sandwiches and salads.
I said hello to Joe, and we placed our orders and took seats while he caught me up to speed on the federal case. “We managed to find Elmer Road at that bar on Melrose.”
“Gilligan’s?”
“Yeah. He holds court in the back of the place with a bunch of locals.” He swirled the ice in his tea. “The guy’s a real piece of work.”
I smiled. “To use Natalie’s words, ‘The Toad is a bloody motherlode of trouble.’”
It was his turn to smile. “She’s got that right. It took a little coaxing, but he finally gave up his contacts. They’re basically guys who know someone who heard rumors. Most of them didn’t pan out, but the guy who told Road about the bomb came through for us. He knew a guy, who was friends with Caine, named Adam Taylor. It turns out Taylor and Caine did some time together in Holon Prison in Kazakhstan years ago.”
“What for?”
“It had something to do with supplying arms to mercenaries. Anyway, Taylor told him that Caine had a beef with this area because his brother was in a foster home here when he was a kid.”
“I thought it was Caine who was in the foster home.”
“We had that piece wrong. Caine was raised by an aunt outside of Boston. She passed about five years ago.”
“What about the brother?”
“Isaac. Off the radar now, but he worked in the import-export business in Houston up until about five years ago.”
“As in importing drugs? With the Rylands?”
“Probably. We have more work to do.”
A server brought our food over as Joe’s phone rang. He checked the screen. “It’s Greer.” He stood. “Give me a sec.”
I munched on some fries as he took the call, and thought about Nathan Caine and his brother, Isaac. It seemed likely that both men had ties to the Rylands. Though Harlee was dead, it gave me hope that Nathan or Isaac might know something about my bio-dad. It also occurred to me that both Nathan and Isaac might have taken over the day-to-day duties of the Swarm.
When Joe came back to the table, his expression had changed, telling me that his boss had told him something serious.
“You want to tell me, or should I guess?”
Joe rubbed his jaw. “It’s probably best that you see for yourself.” He worked the screen on his phone for a moment, then handed it to me. “What you’re looking at is security video from the Frye Art Museum in Seattle yesterday morning. Recognize anyone?”
I watched the video, seeing a man in his late fifties, with silver hair, strolling down a corridor. He stopped where a group had gathered near some paintings.
“Caine,” I said, realizing it was him from the mug shots I’d seen. “This means he’s alive.”
He nodded, then sighed. “There’s something else. Take another look.”
I replayed the security video, this time paying closer attention to the group Caine had joined. I almost dropped the phone when I realized what, or I should say who, I was seeing.
I looked up at Joe. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
He reached over and touched my hand. “I’m sorry, Kate. She was going by the name Emily Langford while in witness protection
, and was working at the museum. This morning, her boyfriend was shot and killed in front of her. We think Caine was responsible.”
“And...wh...what about my...?” My emotions took over, and I couldn’t go on.
“We think Lindsay is still alive, but...” he sighed. “I’m afraid Caine has your sister.”
TWENTY-THREE
I once read a story about a woman who was a mountain climber. She was climbing in Alaska and used an ice axe on the face of a frozen mountain. The axe didn’t hold, and she slipped down the mountain into an icy crevasse, where darkness fell around her. She remained there alone for hours until someone finally rescued her.
In this moment, it felt like I was that same climber. I was stuck in the frozen darkness, unable to free myself, even as Joe called out to me.
“Kate, you okay?”
When I didn’t respond, he came over and sat beside me. He held onto me and told me I was going to get through this.
It took me a long time to extricate myself from the frozen darkness of my emotions and finally respond. “I think...I’m just in...in a state of shock.” I looked at him, saying the name of the sister I hardly knew. “Lindsay.”
He nodded. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. If it’s the last thing I do before I retire, I’ll find her.”
“But how...? She was supposed to be protected.”
He took a breath, giving his best guess on what happened. “Somebody must have been compromised. Maybe the Swarm got to one of the agents’ family members. There will be a thorough investigation.”
“It doesn’t help Lindsay.”
“I know, but at least we know she was taken alive, and that Caine has her. Every law enforcement agency in the world has him on their radar. And we know he’s been in Seattle.”
My thoughts finally completely surfaced from the icy abyss. “Daniel...do you think they might also have him?”
Joe’s pale eyes blinked several times. “Maybe. It’s hard to say.”
“But we know Harlee was after him before she died.”
“I’ll let Greer know. We can put our people on finding him.”
My thoughts then went to my other brother. “Robin,” I said. “I’d better call him and tell him what’s happened, and to be careful.”