Hollywood Underworld: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller (The Hollywood Alphabet Series Book 21)

by M. Z. Kelly

  Caine left the crypt, moving down the hill in the opposite direction of the car that had entered the grounds. Twenty minutes later, after leaving the area and parking his car, he was standing at ground zero. From where he stood, he could see both the White House and the Capitol building. He strolled casually down the Mall, a gathering place for the thousands who would attend the upcoming festivities, remembering what Tim Hollister had said before the bomb that had been under assembly had melted down.

  The explosion will be twice the size of the bomb dropped on Hiroshima during World War II.

  Caine looked toward the Capitol building, closing his eyes and imagining the structure being incinerated by the blast. Soon, the world would be forever changed, and he would be the leader of the new government.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  We arrived in Washington the next day, just before the sun came up. After being dropped at our hotel, Joe and I made our way to the restaurant, where he sweet-talked a waitress into bringing us a drink, even though the establishment’s bar was closed. We found seats in the hotel’s atrium, as the first rays of a new day filtered through the skylights.

  “Where do you think we go from here?” I asked Joe, after we’d settled in.

  He worked on his scotch. “Maybe we meet with that reporter...Fenwald. I’m hoping she has a lead on Caine.”

  “Fenwick. I was talking to Captain Johansen before we landed. She said the reporter won a Pulitzer a few years back. She’s like a bulldog with a bone when she’s on a story.”

  “Let’s hope this is a bulldog that’s got some answers, unlike Logan’s.”

  I took a sip of my wine. “It sounds like you two have a lot of history.”

  “You might say that. We were like brothers at one time.”

  “But you’re not as close anymore?”

  He worked on his drink. “Time marches on, people drift apart.” He smiled. “Jack has his faults, but I’ve got to admit I missed him.”

  I took another sip of my wine, but set it aside, deciding it would do nothing to help me sleep. I gave voice to the other thing that was on my mind. “Do you think Caine could have brought Lindsay here?”

  Joe rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Hard to say. He’s probably got a lot on his mind, so maybe not.”

  “Even so, he made a point of taking her. She must be instrumental to whatever he has in mind.”

  He reached over and took my hand, probably sensing that I was upset. “Let’s try to keep positive thoughts. I have a feeling all this is going to work itself out in the next couple of days.”

  “You think Caine has something planned for the inauguration?”

  “Why else would he come here?” He went back to his drink for a moment. “All I know is that, whatever he has in mind, this place is crawling with enough law enforcement people to maybe make him think twice.”

  I sighed. “I hope you’re right.” I picked up my purse. “We’ve got a busy day, so I’m going to catch a couple hours of sleep.”

  After I stood, Joe came over to me. “Maybe I could come up, and we could...” He smiled. “...talk.”

  I smiled, glanced around, then kissed his cheek. “When we talk, I want it to be special, not like this.” I held on his pale blue eyes.

  He exhaled. “Yeah, of course. I’ll walk you to your room.”

  After I said goodnight to Joe, I took a long, hot shower and got into bed. I slept soundly until ten when my phone rang. I reached over, seeing that it was a FaceTime call from Natalie and Mo. I thought about not answering, then worried they might be calling about Bernie.

  “Is everything okay?” I mumbled, after I got my phone and struggled into my robe.

  “Mo and me just wanted to see if you caught that lunatic Caine yet,” Natalie said. She was wearing her badass PI leather jacket. “Rumor has it he might be plannin’ something for Tatum’s swearin’ in.”

  I drew in a deep breath and brushed the sleep from my eyes. “We’re working on it. How’s Bernie?”

  Mo’s big face came on the screen, and I saw she had on a purple wig. “He’s better than ever. Otto took him for a walk.”

  “That’s good. How is our butler surviving his breakup?”

  “He’s already got another fish on the line,” Natalie said, her face appearing back on the screen. “A gourmet chef, so we might wanna keep this one ‘round.”

  “Good for him. Well, I’d better go...”

  “Not so fast,” Mo said, squeezing herself into the screen again. “Baby sis and me got a lead on that school teacher that was murdered.”

  “Gina Spence?”

  “Yeah. Goose might know something ‘bout her.”

  Natalie turned the phone back in her direction. “Goose is workin’ on a script for Mogul Studios. He said when Spence was at the studio, it was like danglin’ raw meat in front of a rabid dog.”

  “She was an attractive woman.”

  “Yeah, and, according to Goose, that grotbag head of the studio had a thing for her.”

  “Robert Zemaris?”

  “That’s him. Goose said they call him the Z-Man. Any woman who walks through the studio gate is fair game for the penis zombie.”

  What she said made me wonder if Zemaris had his HR manager covering for him by having his casting director take the blame for harassing Spence.

  Natalie went on. “Mo and me thought we’d go by the studio with Goose and snoop around.”

  “No, you can’t do that. Let me tell Olivia what you found out, and she’ll follow up.”

  I saw my friends exchange looks before Mo said to Natalie, “She’s afraid we’re gonna interfere again, baby sis.” She looked at me. “You don’t think we can handle a discrete investigation after all these years?”

  “Of course I do, but this is an active police investigation. I have to let my partner know what you found out and have her follow up.”

  After lots of grumbling, I got a reluctant agreement from them to hold off.

  Before ending the call, Natalie reminded me of their upcoming roller derby event. “I hope you’re home in the next few days. Mo and me are gonna take down the Tarzana Outlaws at Wallbangers.”

  “Yeah, and there’s gonna be blood in the water...or maybe on the skates,” Mo said. “We’re gonna need our cut woman.”

  “I’ll see how things go here and let you know.”

  “Here? Where the hell are you?”

  “It’s classified. I’ve got to go, so take care of Bernie. I’ll be in touch.”

  They were still talking when I said my goodbyes again and ended the call. I laid back on the bed and thought about what they’d said about Gina Spence. I gave up on getting any more sleep and got Olivia on the line. I took a moment to go over what my friends had said.

  “It would certainly be worth going by the studios and talking to Zemaris,” Olivia agreed. “Providing we can get Van Ness to let us work the case.”

  “I take it you’ve been told to move on.”

  “We caught that shooting on Hollywood Boulevard and a DV case. We’re pretty backlogged. Any idea when you’ll be back?”

  I brushed my hair back. “Not really. I’m with the feds, but we don’t have anything solid.”

  “You’ve probably seen the news reports.”

  “No. I’ve been on a plane.”

  “The terrorist threat level has been increased to the highest level with Tatum’s inauguration. Do you think something could happen in DC?”

  “It’s hard to say, but all possibilities are on the table.”

  “You can’t talk.”

  “Afraid not. How are things with Al?”

  “Leo’s running interference. If he wasn’t, there would be another homicide in Hollywood.”

  I chuckled. “I hope he survives, for your sake. Take care, and I’ll be in touch soon.”

  After dressing, I got a call from Joe, telling me that we were scheduled to meet with Stan Waters and Jack Logan downstairs as soon as I could get there.

  When I got to
the hotel lobby, I saw that Joe was with the two men and an attractive woman. I went over and was introduced to Maggie Fenwick.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Fenwick said after introductions. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  I nodded and told her I hoped I could be of some help.

  After some small talk, Waters motioned to a hallway and said, “We’ve arranged for a private office where we can all talk.”

  As we walked through the lobby to one of the hotel’s business offices, Logan leaned over to me. “Watch yourself. I hear her bite can leave a nasty scar.”

  I glanced at him. “I appreciate the heads-up.”

  After getting coffee and taking seats in the oak-paneled office, Stan Waters got down to business, telling Fenwick, “We’re in DC because we’ve been told you have information about Nathan Caine and his associates.”

  The reporter, who appeared to be in her mid-thirties, brushed long auburn hair off her forehead. “Let’s be frank. You’re here because of the inauguration. DC looks like an armed camp.”

  Waters fixed his unflinching blue eyes on Fenwick. “There’s that, as well. Now, tell us what you know.”

  Fenwick’s green eyes swept over Joe, then found me. “I know he has your sister.”

  Information about Lindsay being taken was still being held back from the press, so I knew she had a source on the inside of our investigation. I was about to respond when Logan demonstrated both his impatience and lack of tact. “Caine’s looking for leverage and will use anyone he can. If you don’t want to help us, stop wasting our time.”

  Fenwick looked at him and smiled. “Your reputation precedes you.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means the company cut you loose, because of both your attitude and your failings in France.”

  Logan looked at Waters. “I think we’re done here.”

  Waters put a hand on his shoulder, then looked back at the reporter. He softened his tone. “I think we all need to keep the bigger picture in mind.”

  Fenwick drew a breath, her gaze moving off. When she looked back at Waters, it was obvious what was on her mind. “I’ve been given access. That means no games. I want the real information on what’s going on in real time, not prearranged talking points or bullshit after the fact.”

  Waters nodded. “Understood.” He took a breath. “The truth is we’re in the dark. We’re in DC only because it’s the likely target. We need your help.”

  She cranked her head in Logan’s direction. “And him?”

  “He arrested Caine after the Ohio derailment. That makes him as close to an expert on Caine as we’ve got. As I said, we’re in the dark on this and need all the help we can get.”

  Fenwick cut her eyes to Logan again and scoffed. She then looked back at Waters. “As you probably know, Caine was working with Adam Taylor. Taylor was killed in the meltdown. My sources tell me he’s now working with his brother, Isaac, and Taylor’s son, Joshua.”

  “Do you know if they’re in this area?”

  “I can’t say for sure, but it’s likely.” Fenwick went on, telling us she knew that Caine was working with Ted Hollister again and building another bomb.

  “You believe he has more plutonium?” Logan asked.

  Fenwick held on his eyes. Her earlier disdain was now gone. “Enough to blow this city off the map.”

  THIRTY-FIVE

  “We need to know who your source is,” Stan Waters told Fenwick.

  The reporter chuckled. “You know that isn’t going to happen.”

  Logan spoke up. “You wanted inside the sandbox. That means we all share the toys.”

  “It’s taken me years to develop my source. If I give him up, it might close any potential access to Caine.”

  “It also might help us find him,” Joe said. “And save a whole lot of people from being killed.”

  Fenwick went on, giving reasons not to cooperate, but it was clear her heart wasn’t in it. Waters finally sealed the deal, telling her, “We’ll see that you have complete access to everyone involved in this story. That includes the president-elect.”

  It took her less than a minute to cave in. “His name is Jon Warren. He’s friends with Joshua Taylor, Adam Taylor’s son.”

  ***

  Our meeting with Fenwick set off a whirlwind of activity. Stan Waters convinced the reporter to contact Jon Warren. After a couple calls, Warren got back to her and agreed to meet Fenwick in Rock Creek Park, just over three miles from the White House.

  An hour before the scheduled meeting, we met with Fenwick in an unmarked van, a block from the park, to discuss how things would go. Joe and I listened as Waters and Logan laid out how they wanted to proceed.

  “We need you to wear a wire, find out what Warren knows about Caine’s plans,” Waters told her.

  “You need to get specifics,” Logan agreed. “As well as information about anyone he’s working with and their whereabouts.”

  “Warren’s information is second-hand, filtered through one of Joshua Taylor’s friends,” Fenwick said. “His information is second- or third-hand, at best.”

  “We’ll take what we can get,” Waters said.

  Fenwick picked up the wireless device that was pushed across the table to her. “I’m not sure he’ll cooperate. He’s very young, rather immature, and can be a little difficult.”

  “What skin’s been in the game for him in the past?” Jack asked her. “There must be something you’ve used to make it worth his while.”

  Fenwick shifted nervously, started to say something, but didn’t go on.

  Logan looked at Waters, then back at the reporter. “I think I get the picture.”

  “You don’t get anything.” Fenwick released a pent-up breath. “Jon’s got a lot of problems. It's been a work in progress, but I’ve managed to get him to confide in me.”

  Logan smiled. “Yeah, pillow talk can work wonders.”

  “Asshole.” She looked at Waters. “All I’m saying is I can’t make any promises that he’ll cooperate.”

  “Just try to get him to be as specific as possible about Caine’s plans and his associates,” Waters said. “When you think you’ve exhausted all the possibilities, use the code word ‘weather’. That will be a signal for our team to move in and take him down.”

  There was concern in her voice. “Tell me that you’re not going to harm him.”

  “Of course not.”

  Logan chimed in. “Don’t worry. Your boy toy will still have all his working parts.”

  “Fuck you.”

  A smile. “Sorry, but I don’t think I fit your age profile. I’m out of high school.”

  ***

  After Fenwick left our van and made her way into the park, we found a parking lot where we had a decent view of the area. The van was fitted with high-tech video surveillance equipment and four separate video monitors that divided the park into quadrants. A camera followed her as Fenwick pulled her coat tighter and made her way past some play equipment.

  “What odds do you give her?” Jack Logan asked us.

  Waters just shrugged and kept quiet, but Joe offered his best guess. “Never underestimate the power of a woman. I’d give it better than fifty-fifty.”

  Logan smiled and looked at me.

  My lips also turned up. “Being a woman, I can’t say that I disagree.”

  Jack’s old friend nodded, his gaze moving between me and Joe. It made me wonder if Joe had told him about our relationship, or if Logan had simply done the math. Whichever it was, it made me nervous, and I kept my eyes on the video monitors.

  Fenwick waited for about ten minutes before we saw a young man approach her. “It’s Warren,” Waters confirmed.

  The sound came up when Warren got over to the reporter and they exchanged hugs.

  “It’s been too long,” Warren said, the eagerness in his voice apparent.

  “Sorry. I’ve been busy with work.” Fenwick held on his eyes. “How have you been?”

  Th
e young man buried his hands in his coat pockets. “You know, making ends meet. Just getting by.”

  “How’s the job at the warehouse?”

  “I quit.”

  “Really. Why?”

  “My boss was an asshole. Hey, you have lots of contacts. Maybe you know someone who’s hiring.”

  “Let me think about it. You’re right, I might know someone.”

  Warren moved closer, kissing her. “I’ve missed you. Maybe we could go someplace?”

  “I’d like that, but...”

  “What is it?”

  Fenwick folded her arms and lowered her voice. “I’ve got this editor who’s an asshole. I guess you know this thing about Nathan Caine has been all over the news.”

  “Yeah, I saw.”

  She moved closer, brushing a hand against his cheek. “If you could help me out, I would be forever grateful.”

  Warren hesitated, and Fenwick moved closer. “Please. Anything you can tell me.”

  “The girl’s good,” Logan said.

  Waters held up a hand. “Quiet.”

  After a little more persuasion, there was a payoff. “All I know is Joshua said something big is going to happen soon.”

  “Here? In DC?”

  “Yeah.”

  “When you say ‘big’, what do you mean?”

  “Maybe like what was supposed to happen in Los Angeles. I don’t know for sure.”

  “Do you think Caine is making another bomb?”

  After a moment, Warren nodded, but kept quiet.

  “What about Joshua? Do you know where I...?”

  Her words were cut off in mid-sentence. We all watched as Jon Warren’s body was blown forward and fell on top of the reporter.

  We heard Fenwick let out a harrowing scream. “I’ve been shot!”

  THIRTY-SIX

  “Jon Warren’s dead,” Joshua Taylor said. He and Caine were on the street in a neighborhood the elder terrorist had chosen at random. It was after midnight, and a light snow was falling. “The reporter survived and is in the hospital.”

  Caine’s voice was low, derisive. “We don’t know what Warren told her. Why didn’t you finish the job?”