by M. Z. Kelly
Natalie took over, clapping her hands with excitement. “…your boss got his walkin’ papers. Any idea who’s gonna replace frisky Freddie?”
Ted and I had learned that Lieutenant Conrad had been placed on administrative leave pending formal disciplinary proceedings that would likely end his employment.
“I got a call from Captain Dembowski yesterday,” I said. “Lieutenant Edna’s taking over Section One on a temporary basis until a new lieutenant is chosen.”
Mo lowered her already deep voice and imitated my new boss. “That’s the best fucking news we’ve had ‘round here all fucking month.”
***
Lindsay, Bernie, and I got to Griffith Park just before noon. We found a secluded little picnic spot not too far from a children’s playground.
As we heard the melody of the children’s voices in the background, Lindsay said, “I’m glad we decided to come here.” Her emerald eyes, a trait that we shared in common, found me. “Maybe it will help us both continue to heal.”
What she hadn’t said was that we were just a few hundred yards from where her father had murdered my father. I’d purposely chosen the location so that we could talk about how that event had forever changed both of us. We spent the next hour, discussing everything that happened and how it had affected our lives.
Lindsay then talked about her relationship with her abusive father. “He began coming into my room at night when I was about seven.” She brushed a tear. “It went on until I was old enough to fight back.”
I held her hand, my eyes also filling. “Your…our mother. Did she ever suspect what was going on?”
She clutched her sides, suppressing a sob. “I’m not sure. I knew that she was being physically abused by Daddy for years.” Her watery eyes found me. “He was a monster, Kate. I hate him so much.”
I reached over and hugged her. “A monster who’s dead and can’t harm us any further.”
“Maybe that’s also the reason I shot him—not only to save you but to also save myself.” She gulped in a breath, controlling her emotions. “Dr. Chan said something that’s helped me. She said that I’m beginning to reclaim the power that was stolen from me because of what happened.” A thin smile found her lips. “As strange as it sounds, Dr. Chan said something about empowerment being the gift that comes to us out of the shadows of loss.”
What she’d said brought Ted Grady’s words of a few days earlier back to me, about finding enlightenment in the darkness of loss. Those words never seemed truer to me than in this moment.
I sat with Lindsay for another hour, listening as the beautiful young woman that was my sister began to reclaim her life. It was heart-wrenching, at the same time heart-warming. Her talk about healing and regaining power brought tears to my eyes several times over the course of the afternoon.
As we were packing up our picnic supplies to leave I saw a man walking toward us from the parking lot. As he got closer I recognized Buck McCade’s handsome features.
My heart thumped against my chest as I said to Lindsay, “Could you take Bernie for a little walk before we leave. There’s someone I need to talk to.”
After Lindsay and Bernie found a trail to explore, I walked over to Buck and said, “What brings you to these parts, cowboy?”
He smiled at me, his eyes crinkling up at the corners in a way that makes me think he’s the most beautiful man alive. “Heard there might be some trouble in town.” He motioned to the pony rides across the way. “I road in on my horse and thought I’d better check on a few things.”
I laughed and we took a walk through the park, chatting about his life in Catalina before I told him how the case I’d been working had ended. As I finished my story, I looked up, realizing we were standing near the pony rides. It was the same location that my father had brought me to on the day he was murdered. It was the place that held my final memory of him, even though it had been mostly lost over the years.
Buck turned to me. “I’m also here because…I wanted to tell you about my ex. Colleen moved back to Texas. She’s staying with her sister. As far as I know she’s back on her meds and her mother is taking care of the baby.” He took a breath. “The paternity test showed I’m not the father. I don’t expect that I’ll ever see Colleen again.”
I nodded and turned away for a moment, seeing a little girl riding one of the ponies. She was about my age when my father had been killed. Her face radiated happiness. It made me think about how a sudden, unexpected event can suddenly shatter the joy and innocence of childhood.
Buck spoke again, drawing my attention back to him. “I want us to be together again, Kate. This is our chance to get back to what we had before. We can start over.”
I looked into his impossibly deep blue eyes for a long moment, a million images and voices washing through my mind. In that instant I saw every moment from the day my father had died until my mother spiraled into depression over the losses we’d both suffered.
And then I heard Dr. Chan’s words again.
You’ve been looking for a relationship to complete you, when the truth is no one can complete you, Kate. You are already beautiful, strong, and complete, you just need to grieve the losses that you’ve suffered and begin to heal.”
It had only been a few days since I’d fought for my life against a couple of madmen in a van and I’d felt nothing over the events. Now my feelings and emotions were beginning to return and I was starting to feel alive again. I knew that was part of the healing process Dr. Chan had talked about.
I glanced over at the trail and saw Lindsay and Bernie. There was a scattering of clouds in the sky as the sunlight broke through, dappling them in a pattern of light and color.
I realized in that moment that my sister and I would be bonded forever. We’d suffered a lifetime of loss and I knew that the recovery process wouldn’t be easy or quick. I also knew that I would always be there for her, also reclaiming my power and strength along the way.
“What do you say, Kate?” Buck took my hands as I again looked up at him. “Let’s start over.”
I took a step back, but continued to hold on his eyes. I knew my decision held a lifetime of possibilities, things that would be both gained and forever lost.
“I’m sorry, Buck. I can’t go back and start over. It’s time for a new beginning.”
THE END
Thanks for reading, HOLLYWOOD HOMICIDE . . .
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The Hollywood Alphabet Thriller Series, with Detective Kate Sexton and her canine partner, Bernie:
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COMING SOON: Hollywood Intrique (excerpt follows):
And Now An Excerpt from:
HOLLYWOOD INTRIGUE
BY
MZ KELLY
ONE
“But I can’t sing,” I protested.
“Course you can,” Mo said, pushing her orange wig hair out of her eyes. My deluxe-sized African-American friend put her hands on her wide hips and stared at me in that intimidating way she had. “Didn’t you ever learn to sing when you was in school by practicing classic tunes like Super Freak?”
“No and I…”
Mo turned to our gorgeous British friend Natalie, interrupting me. “I forgot. Kate went to school in Hollywood. She didn’t learn nuthing.”
Natalie pushed me toward the stage. I felt half naked in my tight dress that showed a lot more leg than material “All ya gotta do is act like a Spice Girl, sing the words, Tell Me What You Want, What You Really, Really Want, and do a couple of pelvic thrusts. We’ll do the rest.”
I glared at her. “I don’t do pelvic thrusts.”
Mo regarded me and shook her head. “That’s a whole other problem. We’ll deal with that later.”
I should probably explain how I came to be dressed as Posh Spice and about to perform at a New Year’s Eve party with my friends. My name is Kate Sexton. I’m a detective with LAPD’s Robbery Homicide Division, or RHD. My canine partner, Bernie, and I had recently been assigned to Section One, a homicide unit located out of Hollywood Station that handled some of the department’s most difficult cases.
Bernie was home tonight, probably still suffering from tinnitus, after having to listen to a couple of our rehearsals. My big dog had quickly become an integral part of RHD, thanks to helping bring down the bad guys in a couple of big cases. When Bernie wasn’t chasing crooks, he had own sense of style—as in doggy style. He’d sired a love puppy named Bubba not too long ago, who was being cared for by my mother.
Bernie and I live at the Barkley Bungalows in Hollywood next to Natalie and Mo. My friends own a private investigation business called Sistah Snoop. They try to insert themselves into my cases every chance they get, not to mention my personal life that’s lately been a bigger disaster than a Malibu mudslide.
Tonight, my friends and I planned to perform as a Spice Girls tribute act. A few days ago I’d had my brain surgically removed and agreed to be Posh Spice at tonight’s fundraiser for a local children’s hospital. Natalie and Mo were Baby and Sporty Spice, respectively. We were at Ravenswood Manor, a dilapidated Tudor estate, located in the hills of Hollywood. It was just after midnight, everyone at the party was drunk, and, to make matters worse, it had been raining most of the evening.
While anticipating the horrifying spectacle we were about to make of ourselves, I knew there was also another “older” spice on the rack tonight. My eighty-something former landlord, Nana, who was now calling herself the Countess of Ravenswood, ran on stage with the rest of us in the persona of Scary Spice.
“Give me the microphone,” Scary screeched. “This is my party.”
Nana, or Scary, had undergone a transformation in recent months, thanks to a sexual rejuvenation drug, and had taken to dressing like Britney Spears on LSD. Tonight, Scary wore gold, as in gold hot pants, a gold sports bra that hid her surgically enhanced spice rack, and a golden crown. Maybe Scary also thought she was the Queen of Ravenswood.
What followed can only be described as spice induced acid reflux as my friends and I performed our version of the song, Tell Me What You Want, at the same time it poured down rain. All I knew was that when the song mercifully ended, what the audience really, really didn’t want was any of us, especially Nana.
When we all came off the stage dripping wet I turned to my friends and said, “I’m just glad that fiasco is over.”
Mo shook her head, water flying off her like Bernie after a bath. “I’m afraid what we got here is a night that will live in infamy.”
“What are you talking about?”
Natalie motioned to the little man in a tuxedo on the balcony of the estate next to our makeshift stage. “The vamp got everything on tape. Word has it were all gonna be on the local TV stations.”
Claude, Nana’s new beau, who looked remarkably like a vampire and had recently inherited Ravenswood, was operating a video camera. Dracula bowed and waved to us.
“Shit, why does this happen to me?” I groaned as my phone rang.
“Don’t be a Debbie Downer,” Scary Spice said, coming over to me. Her oversized dentures, something she called Leo’s, gleamed in the overhead lights set up for the performance. “This is your lucky day. You’re going to be a star.” Nana’s eyes then lowered, taking in my soggy dress. “And everyone’s gonna see what you’re really made of.”
I fished for the phone in my purse. “What are you talking about?”
“Nana had our outfits specially made,” Mo said, running a hand seductively over her tight dress.
My eyes grew wider as I saw that my friend’s enormous breasts were surfacing for air beneath the now transparent material of her outfit. I then glanced over at Natalie and saw that her perfect assets were on display. I braced myself, as I looked back at Nana. I now realized that Scary Spicy, true to her name, was modelling a withered birthday suit that looked like it was wrapped in gold plastic wrap.
Mo went on, “Betcha half the world’s gonna see our moneymakers.”
I was horrified, now realizing that when it rained our outfits had turned into something that should have been in a wet T-shirt contest. My moneymaker, as Mo called it, had, no doubt, been revealed for all the world to see.
I blew out a breath in disgust and answered my phone. It was my partner, Ted Grady.
“We just caught a case, Kate. I’ll meet you at the station within the hour.”
“What’s going on?”
“All I know is that a girl was murdered up in the hills. And it’s bad.”
TWO
“The girl’s body was found in a cave by some boys playing in the area yesterday,” Ted Grady said.
My partner in Section One, LAPD’s new robbery homicide unit, glanced at the brush covered hillsides around Stone Canyon Reservoir as he drove us down the muddy road. The small body of water served as the water supply for several of the local cities.
Ted went on, “They made some kind of pact not to tell their parents until one of them said something about the body last night.”
It was hard to believe we were just a few miles from Hollywood as the crow flies. The January rains had ended the long Southern California drought, leaving the hills covered with a velvet carpet of green grass. It had rained most of the night. I gotten to the station a little before three and by the time we’d made preparations, the morning sun had begun breaking through the scattered cloud cover, dappling the canyon in patterns of sunlight and shadow.
“Why did the boys keep it a secret?” I asked, brushing damp, frizzy hair that was the bane of my existence out of my eyes.
“The kids were doing drugs and told one of the uniforms they were afraid they’d get into trouble.”
Bernie pushed his big wet nose up from the backseat and through the partially open rear window, inhaling the musty odor of wet earth as I asked, “Do we know anything about the victim?”
Grady, a heavyset African-American detective in his late forties, shook his big head. “The responding officers said she looks to be in her teens. Dead maybe a couple of days.” He glanced at me. “They also said something about the body being posed.”
I drew in a breath and slowly exhaled. As members of the department’s recently formed Section One homicide unit, Ted and I knew we would be dealing with some of the department’s most difficult and high profile cases. Even so, the thought of working the murder of a yo
ung girl uncovered several terrible images of past cases that I’d kept buried in the darkest recesses of my mind.
My phone chirped as a murky cloud descended on the canyon and our four-wheel drive SUV bounced through a couple feet of water. I recognized the girl’s voice as I answered.
“Hi Kate, it’s Lexi. I thought I’d see what you’re doing today.”
I’d met Lexi while doing a fundraiser for Kids ‘n Cribs, a charity for homeless kids in Hollywood. She had been homeless for a while before living in a shelter until her elderly grandparents had finally agreed to take custody of her following the death of her mother at the hands of an abusive boyfriend.
“I’m ah…actually…I’m just working,” I said, trying to keep the edge out of my voice. “How are things with you, sweetheart? You’re up early.”
“I’m helping with a few chores before going to school. I have a basketball game tonight at the high school. I was wondering…” She paused, maybe gaining the courage to tell me what was on her mind. “I thought maybe you could stop by.”
I asked her what time the game was scheduled for and told her that I’d try and make it.
Her enthusiastic response made the terrible images I’d recalled a few moments earlier now seem like a distant memory. “That would be so cool if you can come. Maybe we could get something to eat afterward.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I’d almost ended the call when I heard Lexi say, “Primrose.”
I chucked and said, “Violets,” before ending the call.
Lexi loved flowers and we’d developed a habit of saying the name of a flower every time we parted. It was maybe, in some way, a substitute for expressing the affection we’d begun to feel for one another in a short period of time.
My smile lingered as I put my phone away, something that my partner noticed.