Hollywood Homicide: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller

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Hollywood Homicide: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller Page 14

by M. Z. Kelly


  Nana scanned the horizon, maybe worried that Maurice would take another swipe at her, before looking back at Natalie. “Hey, that’s not a bad idea. I’ll have him grow his hair out a little longer and rip open his shirt.”

  It was Mo’s turn to do an eye-roll. “Who knows, Claude might end up on the cover of Undertaker World Magazine as the sexiest vampire alive.” She glanced upstairs. “How is the sex machine? I haven’t see him all day. Don’t tell me he’s gone belly up like Elvis?”

  Nana scowled. “Don’t be ridiculous. Claude’s the picture of health. He’s just resting.”

  Mo looked at us. “In his coffin.”

  Nana voiced her disapproval with a harrumph. “I’m tired of all these vampire jokes. When are you two moving out?”

  “We’re lookin’ at a place tomorrow,” Natalie said. “You and the Duke of Earl should have the place all to yourselves before you know it.”

  “What are you going to do with all this space?” I asked Nana.

  Her lips parted, Leos gleaming. “Claude and me have big plans. We’re thinking about hosting a reality TV show here if we can work out the details with the producer.” She went on for a moment, giving us some of the particulars about sharing the house with several couples for a week as each of the losers was eliminated, until the winner was declared Lord of Ravenswood. She added, “Claude will be the master of ceremonies and I’ll be the hostess.”

  Mo smiled and said, “I got the perfect name for the show, Nana. Why not call it, Vamps ‘n Tramps.”

  THIRTY THREE

  The next morning Lieutenant Conrad sent Christine Belmont and Alex Hardy to talk to the DA about her preliminary decision not to file charges against Pearce Landon. Conrad wanted his favorite detectives to make a play to leave Landon in custody as long as possible before it was legally mandated that he be released, giving us more time to work the case.

  In the meantime, the lieutenant gave Ted and me our marching orders. “You two go back to the studios and turn everyone upside down until the murder weapon falls out. The brass and the press are all over this case. Section One’s reputation is at stake.”

  On the way to ROI studios I told Ted that maybe we’d get lucky and Conrad would get hit by a bus. Ted said that he would drive. Then we got serious, deciding that we needed to find Scarlett’s best friend, Lauren Sims, who Selfie and Molly were still trying to track down.

  While Ted drove I took a moment and nuzzled Bernie who poked his head up from the backseat. I’d slept well for the first time in days, maybe because of my conversation with Beverly Chan, something my new partner apparently noticed.

  “You seem ready to roll, despite LT being on the warpath.”

  “He’s always on the warpath. I’m not going to let him ruin my day.”

  I then decided to tell him about meeting with the psychiatrist, what she’d said about still needing to grieve the loss of my father and birthmother, and not letting the losses I’d suffered define my life.

  “I think the doctor got it right,” I said. “I’d thought it was the job that had left me feeling empty and lost, but I think it has more to do with losing my father and birthmother, and my mother not telling me the truth about what happened until recently.”

  “Are you angry with your mom?”

  I took a breath, thinking about his question. “Not really. I understand why she withheld the information from me when I was a child. She was trying to protect me and I think over the years it just got easier for her not to talk about it.” I found his compassionate eyes. “It wasn’t the right way to handle things, but I understand how it happened.”

  He nodded. “Are you going to talk to her about it?”

  “Not now. She’s not in a good place. I think it’s time I moved out again, gave her some space.” I smiled. “Maybe we all reach a point in our lives when it’s almost impossible to live with our parents.”

  Ted returned the smile. “Amen to that.”

  We’d called ahead and made arrangements to meet with Dallas Wakefield, Scarlett’s co-star on Final Wish, before talking to Zig Steinberg again. We found Wakefield in a trailer on a back lot, studying a script with a blonde actress. I had the impression that we’d interrupted something as the woman made excuses and scurried off.

  “The studio wants us to shoot the remaining scenes around Scarlett’s role,” Wakefield explained after introductions and we found chairs. Bernie sniffed around the trailer before coming back over to me. “When a new actress is found, we’ll reshoot the scenes Scarlett would have been in and then it’s a wrap for me.”

  I knew from a background check that Wakefield was thirty-one, divorced, and the father of twin girls with whom he reportedly had no relationship.

  “You sound like you’re ready to put the movie behind you,” I said.

  “The film has been a fucking nightmare. I wish I’d never signed on.”

  “We understand Scarlett wasn’t happy about the script, or her role in the movie,” Ted said.

  “That would be an understatement. She hated every minute of it and didn’t miss an opportunity to let me know about it.”

  “What exactly did she say?”

  The actor ran a hand through his thick brown hair. “You probably heard about our love scene.” He met Ted’s eyes. My partner nodded and he went on. “When I supposedly gave her Satan’s seed.”

  We hadn’t heard about the scene but Ted gave nothing up. “What’s your version of the story?”

  Wakefield laughed. “Just for the record I never touched her inappropriately.” He met my eyes and then looked back to Ted. “Tell me how you’re supposed to act like you’re making love to someone without touching them, especially when the script calls for the character I played to impregnate Scarlett?”

  I gave Ted a blank look and then found Wakefield’s blue eyes again. “Did Scarlett make any formal allegations?”

  “No. But when you run off the set crying that you’ve practically been raped word gets around.” He shook his head. “Zig’s got the dailies if you want to see them. I did nothing wrong.”

  “But it sounds like you two were constantly at odds,” I said.

  He nodded. “I won’t deny it. Scarlett was…” His gaze moved off for a moment. “I guess you would call her sensitive. Maybe in hindsight I should have been more aware of that. I don’t know. All I know is every minute being on set with her was pure torture.”

  “Did she have conflict or problems with anyone else during the filming?”

  He shrugged. “Not that I saw. She just wasn’t happy and made that clear. You might talk to Zig, maybe he can fill in some more details.”

  After another half hour with Wakefield we met with Zig Steinberg in his office again, but only after Alysha Roberts scurried around locating the director. As Roberts made phone calls, I glanced at her desk and saw there were several photographs, including one of her with Scarlett. While we waited for the director, I asked her about the photo.

  “We met a couple of times on the set,” Roberts said. “She was very kind. It’s such a shame what happened.”

  “Any thoughts about who might have wanted to harm her?”

  Roberts ran a hand through her short blonde hair and sighed. “I don’t have a clue. She wasn’t the kind of person who…” She paused, maybe to collect her thoughts. “Scarlett was very quiet, kept to herself. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to kill her.”

  When Steinberg arrived, he doted over Bernie for a moment, again getting him some water. I thought about how the director had minimized Scarlett’s problems on the set when we’d previously talked to him, something that I asked him about after we took seats.

  The famous director ran a hand over his cheek and through his sparse hair as Bernie lapped up water from the bowl he’d provided. “I knew about her and Dallas having problems and the issue with the sex scene. It was just one day of shooting. I didn’t really think about it when we talked before.”

  “We specifically asked you about Wakefield,”
I said. “You said something about him being an asshole but said there weren’t any real problems. We’ve since learned that Scarlett complained that he was overly aggressive and inappropriately touched her during the scene.”

  He shrugged. “Let’s put our cards out there. It was a nude scene, there was simulated intercourse, and Scarlett’s character was supposed to become pregnant by Satan’s disciple. Scarlett thought it went a little too far. We talked later and she calmed down. It was one day, one scene.”

  “We’ll need to see the outtakes,” I said.

  “I’ll have my assistant send them over to you.” Steinberg checked his watch, looked back at us. I had the impression it was taking every ounce of control for him to be patient and civil with us. This was, after all, a Hollywood power broker with a reputation for some outlandish behavior. “Anything else?” he said.

  I remembered asking Steinberg before if he knew Scarlett’s therapist, Richard Hawkins. He’d dismissed my question, as though the two men had never met. I decided to test the director.

  “Just one other thing,” I said. “We mentioned when we talked before that Scarlett was seeing a therapist, Richard Hawkins. Have you ever met Dr. Hawkins or had any dealings with him before?”

  Steinberg’s brown eyes lost focus, his gaze moving off. He then looked back at me. “Not sure. Maybe we crossed paths at a party or two.” He smiled. “I meet a lot of people in my line of work, Detective.”

  When we got to the car Selfie called with an address she’d finally gotten for Lauren Hayden, Scarlett’s friend. As we headed for Hayden’s house, I mentioned Steinberg’s reaction to my question about whether the director knew Richard Hawkins. “I think he was purposely being evasive.”

  Ted nodded. “Did you get a chance to ask Selfie about their relationship again?”

  I shook my head and called our crime analyst back. When the call ended, I turned to Ted and said, “I think I’ll go into the business of detecting lies.”

  “What gives?”

  “Selfie made a connection. Zig Steinberg and Richard Hawkins are close friends. They apparently go way back. They’re also friends with Harlan Ryland.”

  THIRTY FOUR

  “Stay behind the line until it’s your turn.”

  Pearce Landon nodded at the corrections officer and got in line with a group of other inmates to use the phone. He’d been in jail just over a day but he already knew that hurry up and wait your turn was what kept the custody facility running.

  Landon had talked to his attorney and knew it was unlikely that the DA had sufficient evidence to file charges against him. But he also knew from dealing with his celebrity clients over the years how the system often worked. The police would likely keep him in lock-up as long as possible while they tried to find evidence linking him to the crime.

  After waiting in line for almost an hour, Landon got his chance at the bank of phones and dialed his daughter’s number. He heard the anxiety in Madison’s voice as she answered.

  “Where are you, Daddy? I heard they arrested you.”

  “I’m still in jail, sweetheart, but I should be out soon. I need…”

  “The police…they were here…and…

  Landon’s pulse raced, perspiration popping on his forehead as his daughter broke down crying. “What did they say?” He heard the emotion in Madison’s voice as she tried to respond but lost control again. “Take your time, baby. Just tell me what happened?”

  Madison finally managed to tell him, “They said if I…I didn’t cooperate…they would arrest me.”

  Landon’s lungs filled with the jail’s stale air and deflated. He was pretty sure what had happened next but said, “It’s okay. Tell me what you said to them.”

  “I…I told them about what happened…with Scarlett and me, and the men.” Madison’s voice became choked. “I also told them about the pictures you have. They wanted to know if you were the one who killed…”

  “I didn’t harm Scarlett. You have to believe me.”

  “I know but the detectives…they kept asking me for the pictures. I told them I didn’t have them.”

  Landon took a moment, offering some words of reassurance. The photographs of Madison and Scarlett being attacked by the two men were safely hidden away. But the fact that the police now knew about them would only add to their suspicions that he was involved in the murder. Maybe they thought he’d blamed Scarlett for what happened to Madison.

  When his daughter had calmed down he asked, “What else did the detectives say?”

  “They wanted to know if I was angry…with Scarlett about what happened.” There were more tears as she went on, “They accused me of wanting her dead…they said I had you kill her.”

  Landon again assured his daughter that he didn’t harm Scarlett. He gave her a few moments to compose herself again as one of the corrections officers told him his time was up.

  He then spoke quickly. “Listen to me, sweetheart. If the police come around again tell them you want a lawyer. Don’t say another word to them. I’ll contact you as soon as I’m released.”

  The officer stepped forward and ended the call. Landon lined up with the other inmates before shuffling back to his quad.

  As he walked, he calculated that he would likely be released within the next twenty-four hours. When that happened he would talk to Madison, tell her she needed to leave the area until everything was settled. Once those arrangements were made, he would find Scarlett’s killer.

  There was no other option now.

  THIRTY FIVE

  Ted and I were on our way to Lauren Hayden’s house when my phone rang. It was Selfie. “Gollum wants everybody back at the station at three this afternoon.”

  “What’s going on?”

  I realized that she’d given Belmont and Hardy new names as she went on, “I’m not sure but I think Deep Throat and The Doughboy have something on your case. I’ve got my ear to the ground. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

  I ended the call and told Ted about the meeting and my suspicions. “I wonder if our team members did an end run and talked to Landon’s daughter.”

  He pursed his lips and then said, “I wouldn’t be surprised. Unfortunately, we can’t be in two places at once.”

  “If they broke something open, Conrad’s going to turn up the heat on us big time.”

  He laughed. “I already feel like I’ve been jabbed with Lucifer’s pitchfork and raked over hot coals.” His eyes found me. “You don’t seem too worried about our status in Section One these days.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe it’s Zazen. I figure if it doesn’t work out, the worst that will happen is we’ll end up back in our old assignments.” I glanced at him. “Right about now that doesn’t seem so bad.”

  We chatted about the case for a moment before Richard Hawkins came to mind. “Why do you suppose Zig Steinberg downplayed his relationship with Scarlett’s shrink?”

  “Hard to say, but if she was involved in a relationship with Hawkins maybe he told Steinberg about it.”

  “And I wonder what the connection is between the director, Hawkins, and Harlan Ryland.”

  “Let’s put Selfie back on it and see what she can flesh out.”

  We chatted about friends and co-workers for a couple of minutes before the conversation turned personal. I said, “You told me the other day that you live alone but I was wondering if there’s anyone out there waiting for you?”

  He smiled. “Got me a lady friend named Gail. She not only puts up with my crazy hours but she’s a gourmet cook.” He rubbed his belly. “Guess it’s starting to show.” He regarded me. “And you?”

  I thought about Buck McCade, how I still hadn’t made a decision about our relationship. What Beverly Chan had said to me came to mind and I said, “There’s a guy but I’m not sure if he’s the right one for me.” I smiled. “I guess time will tell.”

  Ted cocked his head to one side, regarded me. “Know what I think?”

  “I’m afraid to ask.”
r />   He chuckled. “Whoever your guy is I think he’s pretty damn lucky.”

  My lips turned up. “Thanks, but I’m not sure why you think that.”

  “A good woman and a great dog are hard to find.” He reached behind him and nuzzled Bernie. “If I was ten years younger and a whole lot better looking, your guy would have a run for his money.”

  “Thanks partner. You just made my day.”

  ***

  Lauren Hayden was twenty-seven, attractive, and petite. Something about her reminded me of the talk show host, Kelly Ripa. Hayden worked part-time as an on-call nurse when she wasn’t auditioning for acting roles. She told us that she met Scarlett several years ago when she and our murder victim had auditioned for the same part in a commercial before her friend hit the big time.

  “I’m still in a state of shock about what happened,” Hayden said, after we settled into her small living room and declined an offer of water. She’d mentioned that she’d just moved and we saw there were boxes on the kitchen counter. She blotted her eyes with a tissue. “I keep thinking Scarlett’s going to call and tell me it’s all just some kind of crazy hoax.”

  “When did you last talk to her?” I asked.

  “A couple of weeks ago.” Hayden sniffed, did another tear blot. “She was pretty unhappy with the movie she was working on and her co-star.” She hugged her sides, her eyes finding me. “I guess you know about what happened with her and Dallas Wakefield?”

  “We heard there was some inappropriate touching.”

  She nodded. “Scarlett said he came onto her pretty hard and wanted to take things further in his trailer. When she said no it got pretty ugly.”

  I glanced at Ted, thinking that wasn’t exactly what Wakefield and Steinberg had told us about the incident. “Was Scarlett in a relationship with anyone recently?”

  She shook her head. “She and a writer named Donny Kessler broke up a few months back. She was going through a difficult time.”

  “Because of the breakup?”

 

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