Hollywood Taken_The Hollywood Alphabet Series

by M. Z. Kelly

  Manuel continued to follow her as she walked to the parking lot. When she got to her car, he finally gave up and left, telling her that he would call her later.

  Zoe was on her way home when her tears started to come again. They came so hard and fast that she couldn’t see the road and had to pull over. She stopped at a small park and went for a walk, trying to regain some control of her emotions.

  The man who had texted her two nights earlier had insisted that she remove all her clothing and do things to her body. It was the most degrading, horrifying thing she’d ever done, but she had no choice. He said he would tell everyone, send the video of her and Manuel having sex and the other pictures to everyone she knew, including her parents and friends, and then post them on the Internet.

  Zoe collapsed onto a bench, feeling like her life was over. Her gaze eventually drifted to a group of children playing nearby. One of the girls reminded her of herself when she was about eight. It had been a time in her life when everything was perfect. A couple of year later, everything had changed.

  “Do you know what it means to be illegal?” her father had asked her one day.

  She remembered shaking her head as he explained. “We came to this country when you were young so that we could have a better life, but we didn’t have papers. It means that the authorities could come, arrest us, and send us away. You must never go to the police, no matter what happens.”

  In that moment, her life had forever been changed, her innocence lost. Now, it felt as though her life had been completely shattered. She could never tell anyone what happened, and there was no way she could ever go to the authorities.

  Zoe looked down at her phone as it chimed. Her heart nearly beat out of her chest as she saw the call was from Marcus, the man who had sent her the texts and pictures. She thought about not answering the call, but knew that wasn’t possible.

  “Hello,” she said, her voice breaking with emotion.

  Marcus’s voice was animated and he talked like he was out of breath. “Write this down, now.”

  Zoe got a pen and scrap of paper from her purse as he went on.

  He gave her an address, a hotel called the Vista Cortez. “You will meet me there tonight at ten, Room 1216. If you don’t show up, the pictures and video will be sent to everyone at midnight tonight. Tell me if you will be there.”

  “I will come,” she said, tears streaming down her face.

  The call abruptly ended. Zoe put her phone away, feeling like her world had imploded. She had to go to the hotel and do whatever the man wanted. She had no other choice.

  EIGHTEEN

  “He’s lucky,” the vet told me at the hospital where we took Bernie. “The bullet grazed his hind quarters. Other than the blood loss, he’ll be good as new in a day or two.”

  I bent over the examination table and hugged my furry partner, exhaling and feeling some of the tension finally leaving my body.

  While I had tended to Bernie, Leo and Al had followed Jason Murray. He had gone over another fence and back into his neighborhood where he’d highjacked a car on the next street over. He was leaving the area at a high rate of speed when they arrived. By the time patrol had been alerted and was in the area, there was no sign of him.

  After telling Murray’s mother what had happened, she consented to a search of her son’s bedroom. Leo and Al had found nothing in the way of a burner phone or other evidence of his involvement in Anna’s murder, and his mother had denied knowing anything about her son’s activities.

  Bernie and I got home late in the day. Other than having a bandage on his hip, my furry partner, was none the worse for the wear. Regardless, he got lots of attention from my friends and Otto as we walked in the house.

  “Betcha, he gets another one of them hero medals,” Mo said, after she and Natalie spent several minutes with Bernie.

  “I say we get him a lady friend, let him have a real reward for going after that Murray bastard,” Natalie said. She looked at me. “I heard he got away.”

  News of what happened had been on all the local TV stations and our Media Relations staff had released a statement that Jason Murray was wanted in connection with a murder.

  “Our patrol units are still looking for him,” I said, “but, so far, no luck.”

  “We heard he had dirty pictures of your victim was threatening her friend,” Mo added.

  “How did you...” I stopped in mid-sentencing, realizing her source in the department must have given her the details of our investigation. “We think that’s pretty much what happened.”

  Otto came in with a tray of drinks. I declined the alcohol and asked him for a glass of iced tea. He scurried off as I said to Mo, “Have you heard any more about that sex ring you mentioned?”

  “Just rumors that your girl was one of their Daisies. Not sure how that asshole Murray fits into everything, other than him being a troll.”

  “A troll?”

  “Someone on the streets, who looks for girls.”

  “Maybe he was gettin’ the girls for the ring, and used your victim for himself,” Natalie said to me.

  “Do you have any idea who is behind this group” I asked Mo.

  She shook her head, that tonight was topped with a short red wig. “Just what I told you before, that someone involved might have ties to Russia.”

  I made a mental note to follow up with our Human Trafficking Unit in the morning. I then remembered that Otto was supposed to bring me some iced tea, but hadn’t returned. I went into the kitchen to check on things and found him on the phone. I got a pitcher of tea from the fridge and poured myself a drink as he ended the call.

  “I’m so sorry, madam,” he said, putting his phone away.

  “No worries.” I saw that his face was flushed and he seemed upset. “Everything okay?”

  He took a breath and released it slowly. “I registered with one of those dating sites and got a call from someone named Leon. He wants to meet for drinks this weekend.”

  “That’s wonderful.” I saw that his brow was tight, a sheen of perspiration had formed on his forehead. “Or, is it?”

  He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his brow. “I’m not sure. I’ve never...” He sighed. “I’ve never actually been in a relationship with a man, so I’m not sure what to expect.”

  I nodded, thinking I was the last person that should be giving dating advice, especially to someone who was gay. Then I thought about Robin. “My brother is gay. If you’d like, I could ask him to stop by and the two of you could talk.”

  He put his handkerchief away. “I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble, in fact, I’ll call him tonight and see if he can stop by tomorrow.”

  “You’re most kind, madam.”

  I fixed my eyes on him. “For the hundredth time, it’s Kate.”

  “If you insist, madam.”

  I took my drink to the atrium where my friends were discussing their upcoming vacation plans.

  “Me auntie should be here next week, so maybe we could go to Vegas,” Natalie said. “I’m officially on the rebound from Tex and need to catch me a couple of balls and go in for the score, if you know what I mean.” She looked at me. “Why don’t you come along?”

  I remembered my meeting with the captain and chief was scheduled for the morning. “I might be given some time off, but I’m not sure Las Vegas is the place for me.”

  Mo’s heavy brown drew together. “What are you talking ‘bout? Don’t tell me them idiots you work for are giving you a bad time again.”

  I explained what Lieutenant Byrd had told me. “I’m not sure how things will play out tomorrow, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m either reassigned or put on leave.”

  “It’s ‘cause of that Harlee woman, isn’t it?” Natalie said.

  I nodded. “Rumor has it she might still be heading this way.”

  “I say the timin’s perfect,” Mo said. “Let’s think about some place to go other than Vegas.”
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br />   They went on for a few minutes, discussing everything from a trip to Palm Springs to an upscale spa in Laguna Beach. After I told them I’d let them know how things went with Bronson tomorrow, I called it a day and went up to my room.

  I read for a while and then remembered my promise to call my brother for Otto. After chatting for a few minutes, I asked Robin if he’d seen our mother.

  “I think she’s having another one of her emotional breakdowns,” he said. “She’s talking about going to on a spiritual retreat in Sedona.”

  “Probably to meditate in the nude,” I said, remembering Robin and I had followed Mom to a similar retreat, only to find her communing with nature in her birthday suit.

  “Don’t remind me,” Robin said. “I’m still in therapy and recovering.”

  I laughed and then told him about Otto. “Maybe you remember me mentioning that his girlfriend recently underwent some sex reassignment surgery. Otto thinks she, or I should say he, found someone else, so he went on a dating site. He has a date this weekend, but has never dated a man before and needs some advice.”

  “Oh brother, I’m not sure where to begin. Whoever he’s seeing probably has a lot of baggage.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what I had to go through?”

  It had taken years for Robin to come to grips with his sexuality and go public. “Sorry, yes. Otto is...he’s such a sweet person, I just think he needs some general guidance.”

  “I’ll stop by tomorrow.” Robin went on for a moment, telling me that he and Adam, his boyfriend, were still considering getting engaged. He then changed the subject, asking me about Daniel.

  “Natalie and Mo have been looking for him. They found out he’d been staying at the Wallace Hotel in Studio City. They’re convinced he could still be alive and that he told me he was dead to throw Harlee Ryland off his trail and keep her away from me.”

  “You never know. I’ve been by that place a couple times. Maybe I’ll stop by there and do some checking myself.”

  After telling him that I would talk to him tomorrow, I ended the call. I sat by my bedroom window, staring out into the darkness for a long time. If Daniel was still alive and hiding out someplace, I prayed that he was safe. I knew that whatever had happened to him, I had to know the truth. And, if he was dead, I would find a way to make Harlee Ryland pay.

  NINETEEN

  The night air was cool as Zoe Saldana slipped out her bedroom window. She had been careful, only telling her parents that she was going to bed early because she had a busy day tomorrow. It was a lie. She hadn’t been to her classes since she began receiving the texts. It was impossible to even think about school with what had been happening.

  Zoe had mapped the Vista Cortez Hotel, finding that the upscale resort was on the beach just south of Santa Monica. She parked and looked up at the high-rise structure. The thought of meeting the monster who had made her do those terrible things while he watched made her sick to her stomach. She expected the worst as she made her way into the lobby and took the elevator to the twelfth floor. She stopped at the hotel room, hesitating. She took several deep breaths before her trembling hand reached out and she knocked on the door.

  After knocking twice and getting no response, Zoe heard a phone ringing from inside the room. She listened for a moment, then turned the knob, finding the door was unlocked.

  “Hello,” she said, calling out as she pushed the door open.

  There was no answer, but the phone was continuing to ring. She realized that the call might be meant for her. She walked over and hesitantly picked up the receiver.

  “Hello. Is this Zoe?” It was a woman’s voice. She sounded friendly, like an old friend who was calling to say hi.

  “Yes,” Zoe said.

  “Very good. Take a seat and relax. We need to have a little chat.”

  Zoe felt some of her anxiety lessen as she sat on the edge of the bed and the woman continued.

  “You were probably expecting the troll who called himself Marcus. Just so you know, he’s dead. He will never bother you again.”

  Zoe released a breath and surprised herself by saying, “I’m glad.”

  The woman laughed. “You can call me, Marsha. I will be your agent.”

  Zoe hesitated, then said, “I don’t understand.”

  “Just think of me as taking over your contract.”

  “My contract?”

  “Let me spell this out for you, Zoe. The video and photos that Marcus had are mine now. What happens to them depends on your actions. If you fulfill your obligations as a Daisy, you will find yourself moving up in the chain. That means, you will eventually be dealing with some very important people.”

  Zoe felt her world collapsing again. This woman, the one who called herself her agent, was no better than Marcus.

  Marsha continued. “But, if you fail in your duties, there will be a heavy price to pay. You will become what we call an Expendable. That means you will be killed, but first every photo and video that we have will be released to anyone you’ve ever known. That includes your parents, your brother, your priest, your teachers, and all your friends.” She chuckled. “Think of it this way. First comes complete and utter humiliation, then comes death.”

  Zoe didn’t respond. The stark reality of what was happening in this moment was completely clear to her. This was something worse than death.

  “Zoe,” Marsha said, “have you been listening to what I said? Are you ready to fulfill your contract and eventually even become a Swag?”

  She had no idea what a Swag was, but Zoe knew that her life as she’d known it was over. “Yes.”

  “Excellent. That’s great to hear. So, here’s the plan for tonight. In a few moments, there will be a knock on the door. That will be your mark. Your duty is to do anything, and I do mean anything, he desires. Once you’re finished, you’ll find there’s a little something in the dresser drawer for your efforts. Each time you fulfill a contract, your reward will increase, along with level of the clientele you entertain. I think you will find this a very rewarding arrangement.”

  “Okay,” Zoe choked. “I will do what you want.”

  “Perfect! Have a wonderful evening. I’ll be in touch soon.” She laughed. “Ta-ta for now.”

  When the call ended, Zoe slumped back on the bed, thinking about what was to follow. She realized she had to build a wall. She would seal herself off from every emotion and feeling that she ever had and do what was asked of her. She would be there in body, but not in mind. It was the only way she could survive.

  There was a knock on the door. The girl who was once Zoe Saldana walked over and answered it, feeling empty inside.

  “Hello,” she said to the grinning, middle-aged man. “Tell me what you like.”

  TWENTY

  The next morning, I left Bernie at home with Otto. After an hour in stop-and-go traffic, I arrived at the Bradbury Building in downtown Los Angeles. The iconic building was located a couple blocks from the Police Administrator Building, or PAB, that was undergoing renovation after it had been bombed in a recent attack by the Rylands. The building had a central Victorian courtyard that rose almost fifty feet from the first floor and opened to caged elevators and marble stairways with ornate iron railings. The place had a formal but comfortable feeling that recalled another era.

  I took the elevator to the top floor where a secretary led me to a conference room that had lots of oak paneling and a fireplace. Chief David Bronson and Captain Norm Van Ness were waiting for me as I entered. After greeting the two men, Bronson asked me about Bernie’s condition.

  “He’s doing well,” I said. “The round grazed his rear quarters. The vet said a couple days off and he’ll be good as new.”

  “And the shooter?” Van Ness asked.

  Our captain was in his early fifties, maybe a decade younger than the chief. Both men were well-built, with a physical presence that reminded me of military officers.

  “We
have a BOLO out, but nothing so far.”

  “It’s a matter of time until we find him,” Bronson said. “Let’s take seats by the fireplace and talk for a couple minutes.”

  I took a seat in a worn leather chair across from the two administrators, my heart thumping against my ribcage as I contemplated what was to follow. After some more discussion about my case, Bronson wasted no time getting to the point.

  “I want you to take a leave, at least a couple weeks off, while we deal with the Ryland situation. As you probably know, the feds are coming back to the city, and, if Harlee Ryland is heading this way, it makes you a target.”

  I did my best to keep my voice even, despite my anger over being excluded. “I don’t understand the rationale, I’ve dealt with the Rylands before, despite my family history with them, and that’s never been an issue.”

  “That was under a different command, Detective. I don’t believe having you in this area is the best way to handle things.”

  “I’m sure you could use some time off,” Van Ness said, his smile reminding me of a wolf stalking a hen house. “A change of scenery will do you some good.”

  I ignored him, looking back at the chief. “I’ve worked with the feds before and have been instrumental in stopping the Rylands. I believe I can be valuable to their investigation.”

  Bronson leaned back in his chair, brushing a hand through a full head of brown hair that was fading to gray. “I disagree. If you don’t want to take the leave, I’ll be forced to reassign you, put you on administrative duties, probably at the PAB.”

  Driving into the city every day and working with a bunch of administrators was the last thing I wanted. I released a breath, knowing he held all the cards.

  “I’ll take a leave, but I have a request. I want to finish up my current case. As you can imagine, this is now personal because of what happened to Bernie.”

  Bronson and Van Ness exchanged glasses. The chief then said, “You have forty-eight hours to do what you can to wrap things up, then I want you out of town.”