by M. Z. Kelly
“Rayburn was Darby’s snitch,” I said, the impact of what we now understood registering.
Olivia exhaled. “It sounds like it.” She hung her head, dragging a hand through her long hair, no doubt feeling the weight of what one of her detectives might have done. “Let me make some calls and see how our superiors want to play this.”
SEVENTY-FOUR
We spent the rest of the day in a state of high anxiety. Administration had authorized us to question Darby under Miranda. As we waited for him to return from his doctor’s appointment, I shuffled some paperwork, but had trouble focusing.
I was eating lunch at my desk when I saw Jessica enter the station. I felt guilty about last night’s events and decided to try and make amends. Bernie and I found her at her workstation. She appeared haggard as I took a seat across from her.
“What do you want?” she grumbled.
“Just to say I’m sorry about the way things turned out last night.”
She sighed. “How’s the nose?”
I’d checked myself in a mirror earlier and found that Natalie’s makeup was still working. No one had seemed to notice my puffiness. “A little sore, but I’ll survive.”
“I once had someone ask me if I had the choice, would I choose love or money.” She chuckled. “We both know how I answered that question. As it turns out, I made the wrong choice.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I guess you heard that Boris’s family went a little crazy after you got punched. I found out his mother hates me.”
“Why is that?”
“Boris is married.”
“Are you kidding?”
She shook her head. “One of his family members told me that he has a wife in the old country. Wilhelmina thinks they’re the perfect match.”
I exhaled. “I guess that explains a lot of things.”
“Boris and I are history. Let me know if you find a good dating site.”
I smiled as my phone rang. “I’m probably not the best person to ask about that. Take care.”
I went back to my desk and answered the call, seeing that it was from Joe.
“How’s it hanging, Buttercup?”
“A long day with lots of high anxiety. I’ll tell you about it the next time I see you.”
“That will be tomorrow. I went home for the day, but just got word I’m heading back to La La Land. Word has it something’s about to break with the Rylands and the Swarm. Something bad.”
I remembered what Cynthia had said earlier about a possible attack. “Any idea what?”
“Not yet, but we’re working some sources.” He paused, then said, “There’s something else.”
I saw that Olivia had left her office and was heading my way. “What’s that?”
“Pearl. We think he may have left Brazil, possibly on a boat, to avoid the people who are after him. I’ll let you know when I hear something more.”
I was about to end the call when he said, “How about that dinner tomorrow night that we talked about?”
I thought about my feelings for him, what had happened between Ross and me. I decided that I needed to level with him. “Dinner sounds good, but just as friends.”
“Friends.”
“Friends, nothing more. I’m sorry, but...I’m just not ready for anything more right now.”
Olivia took a seat across from me after the call ended and saw that I was distraught. “Whoever that was, it doesn’t sound like good news.”
I filled her in on what Joe had said about the Rylands, then mentioned the rest of our conversation. “I basically told him I didn’t want to be in a relationship. He was pretty upset when the call ended.”
Olivia touched my hand. “You told him the truth. That’s always the right choice, even when it hurts.” She smiled. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Try and relax. I’ll let my superiors know what Joe said about the Rylands.”
“What about...” I lowered my voice. “...Darby?”
“He left a message with the front desk that he’s going to be out sick the rest of the day. I tried calling him, but he’s not picking up. I left a voice mail for him to call back, just saying I needed to talk to him about a scheduling issue, so he wouldn’t be suspicious. It’s a waiting game until he surfaces.”
SEVENTY-FIVE
Despite Olivia’s suggestion that I take the afternoon off, I decided to stay at the station. If something broke on Darby’s whereabouts, and I wasn’t around, I would never forgive myself.
I called Leo late in the day and told him what was happening. He was telling me it didn’t feel right not to be at the station, when Woody called me into Olivia’s office.
“Darby just called me,” Woody said, after I closed the door. “I tried to play things off, asking how we was feeling. He said, ‘You know how I’m feeling.’ He then said something about it being nice working with me and ended the call.”
“Let’s ping his phone, see if we can get a location,” Olivia said
“Just did. He’s at the Hollywood Reservoir.”
***
The Hollywood Reservoir, also known as Lake Hollywood, was in the hills overlooking the city and the Hollywood sign. It served as a domestic water source and was surrounded by miles of hiking trails.
We parked and moved cautiously down the paved road surrounding the reservoir and cement dam, not wanting to alert Darby to our presence. We had notified dispatch earlier, asking that they send patrol cars to keep everyone out of the area. Evening was settling in, the sun slipping low on the horizon behind the lake. It would have made for a beautiful evening under different circumstances.
We were walking past a stand of pine trees, approaching the circular cement barrier above the lake, when Olivia’s phone rang. The lieutenant put the call on speaker and we heard Darby say, “Stop right there.”
“We just want to talk,” Olivia said. She waved for us to continue moving ahead. “Things don’t have to go this way.”
“You and I both know how they have to go, Lieutenant. It’s over.”
We moved forward until we were on the spillway, just a few yards from Darby. He was sitting on the upper portion of the barrier and was armed.
Olivia put her phone away as Woody called out to his partner. “Come on, buddy. Let me help.” He took a couple steps closer to Darby.
“Stop,” Darby said, holding the gun to his temple. “Not a step closer.”
Woody held out his hands. “Okay, this is your show. Just don’t do anything we’ll all regret.”
Darby chuckled. “It’s too late for that.” He lowered his weapon, shaking his head. “You know I killed Mel.”
“Tell me what happened.”
He took a moment to respond. When he finally spoke, the despondency in his tone was obvious. “It was her illness. When she got cancer, she went crazy, even after I told her I loved her.” He sighed. “That’s when she began seeing Baxter and all those other guys. She told me that she wanted to feel things before it was too late.”
“And you couldn’t accept that.”
Darby had tears in his eyes for the first time since I’d known him. “I told you, I was in love with her. She...she didn’t feel the same way about me.”
Woody glanced over at us, then lowered his tone. “I know you’re hurting, but...”
Darby’s voice pitched higher in anger as he cut Woody off. “She disrespected me, over and over, seeing those other guys. In the end, she paid the price for that.”
Woody gave him a moment, then mentioned what we’d pieced together about the murder weapon. “You found out about the gun Baxter had and made arrangements for Rayburn to sell it to Dunbar.”
Darby’s head slumped down. “It would have worked, if Rayburn could have been trusted. He was blackmailing me, saying he would tell Dunbar about me stealing the gun and using it on Mel to frame him.”
“What happened to him—Rayburn?”
Darby laughed. “Let’s just say it was nothing good.”
&n
bsp; “And Henry Moss, Mel’s former boyfriend?”
Another chuckle. “He got what he had coming for a long time.”
Woody glanced back at Olivia and me again before saying to Darby, “What about Marilyn?”
“She and Mel were close. She knew about our relationship and suspected what happened. She was going to talk...” He sighed. “It left me with no choice.”
I was horrified, realizing that Darby had gone on a killing spree, both out of jealousy over Mel’s relationships and to cover up his crimes.
We heard a sudden roar somewhere above us and looked toward the darkening skyline.
“Damn,” Olivia said. “The press must have gotten word.”
Three helicopters appeared over the reservoir and began hovering high above us.
“Looks like that’s my cue to exit,” Darby said, calling out to Woody. He stood on the top of the cement barrier, his weapon raised back up to his temple.
“Stop!” Woody screamed as he rushed toward his partner. “Don’t do this!”
We all ran in the direction of Woody and Darby, but it was too late. A single gunshot rang out as Darby’s head exploded and he fell off the ledge of the dam.
We walked over, seeing Darby’s body floating in the water. We had finally closed our case, but in the worst way imaginable. One of our own had violated a sacred trust. He had committed the ultimate sin by murdering his lover and former partner, and those connected to her. Despite my past feelings about Darby, it brought tears to my eyes.
SEVENTY-SIX
After spending a long night at the reservoir, debriefing what happened and writing reports, I got home early the next morning and fell into bed. Olivia wanted everyone present at the Police Administration Building at one o’clock to meet with Chief Miles and discuss last night’s events. Even though it had been a gut-wrenching day, I slept like a baby until I heard laughter coming from downstairs.
I slipped into a bathrobe, got Bernie on his leash, and headed downstairs. After I’d walked him around the yard, I went back inside and found my friends, with Nana, Tex, and Howie, all in the dining room. They were huddled around a laptop, laughing.
“What’s going on?” I asked, trying to see the computer’s screen.
“It’s nothin’,” Mo said, blocking my view.
Despite her efforts, I managed to make my way past her and see what was on the screen.
“Are you kidding me?” I yelled, after seeing my image.
“It’s not that bad,” Natalie said. “Give it some time and your new role as Dr. Doris is gonna grow on you.”
I looked back at the image on the screen in disbelief. My head had been photoshopped onto the body of a well-endowed woman wearing a dominatrix outfit. The effect was so seamless, it looked like I was some kind of sexual superwoman.
“I designed your avatar phenotype specifically to activate regions in the brain associated with desire and sexual arousal,” Tex said. “In the vernacular, one might simply say that you’re sexy as hell.”
“It sure beats your real body,” Nana agreed.
“Me so horny,” Howie said, in a high-pitched voice.
“Wait till you hear Dr. Doris speak,” Natalie said to me. “Go ahead, ask her a question ‘bout anything—as long as it has to do with sex.”
“I’m not going...”
“Should Kate use the missionary position?” Nana asked the virtual sex expert, cutting me off. “Since it’s the only position she knows.”
Dr. Doris answered in a voice that reminded me of Siri, only it was deeper and more sensual. “The missionary position involves a woman lying on her back while a man lies on top of her and she begs him to stop.”
Tex chuckled. “As you can see, I’ve programmed Doris to have a sense of humor.” He looked at the computer screen, and asked the avatar, “Tell us about the male species and sexual motivation, Dr. Doris.”
The virtual sex therapist sprang to life again. “If you put a short skirt and a blonde wig on a fence post, it’s guaranteed that some guy will end up with splinters in his penis.”
“Doris got that one right,” Mo said, chuckling.
“Dr. Doris tells it like it is,” Nana said. She looked at me. “You might wanna spend some time with your virtual self, learning a few things.”
“Dr. Doris is gonna be a big hit, especially with women,” Mo said.
“She does have an edge to her,” Tex said. “That’s her appeal.” He looked at me. “That and the fact that her body is so hot.”
“So hot that it could be responsible for global warming,” Howie said, sounding like a mad scientist.
Natalie slapped me on me on the back. “How does it feel to be hot?”
“It feels ridiculous. You’re going to have to find another...another person’s head for your Dr. Doris.”
“Guess Kate doesn’t wanna give head for the cause,” Mo said.
“I’m serious,” I told them. “I can’t be your sex avatar.”
My friends looked at one another, but didn’t respond.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I demanded.
“’Fraid it’s a bit late for a new noggin,” Natalie said. “Dr. D went live last night. We’ve already got more than ten thousand hits.”
“You’re gonna be famous,” Mo said. “And we’re all gonna be rich, ‘cause Tex is sellin’ his Luv U Long Time aphrodisiac on the website.”
“It’s about time you did something worthwhile with your life,” Nana said to me.
I groaned, “I can’t believe this.” I glanced at the clock on the wall, noticing it was almost noon. “I’ve got to go or I’ll be late for work. We’ll have a long, serious discussion about this later.”
***
As I drove to the Police Administration Building in Los Angeles, Bernie was forced to listen to my rant.
“Ten thousand hits! Why me? I don’t really know anything about sex, other than it feels good—sometimes.” I looked at Bernie in the rearview mirror, who I swore was nodding his head in agreement. I went on. “I’m a virtual sex therapist. I can’t believe this. My co-workers are going to start calling me Dr. Doris!”
By the time I got downtown and parked, I decided to do my best to put my virtual sex persona out of my mind. I would simply have to reason with my friends tonight and insist they find a new Dr. Doris.
I met up with Olivia on the first floor of the administration building. As we waited in the lobby for Woody, she mentioned our Wonderland case. “I heard from Dr. Randolph this morning. They got a DNA match to Robinson for the blood found on the gate at the residence on Wonderland.”
“I guess that seals the deal.”
“Yes, but there’s something else. Randolph did a routine blood type screening on Haley Robinson and compared it with evidence in the cold case murder of her sister, Elizabeth. As it turns out, they had different blood types, and Haley, or the woman we thought we knew was Haley, matched the blood type of her sister.”
“Her sister? I’m not sure I understand.”
“Apparently, Haley Robinson was the one killed on the boat in Newport Harbor as a child. Her sister, Elizabeth, was the surviving twin. It seems likely that she was so traumatized by what happened that she assumed her dead sister’s identity.”
“Do we know if anyone realized that?”
“Woody finally heard back from her aunt and uncle. They said Haley, who was really Elizabeth, had been in therapy for years, trying to come to terms with everything. Despite her profession and brilliance, they described her as extremely emotionally disturbed.”
“And the original investigators on the case never realized that it was Haley who was killed?”
“Apparently not. It’s possible that Elizabeth convinced them at the time that she was Haley, and her mother didn’t realize the truth until later.”
Robinson’s killing spree entered my thoughts. “Maybe all that explains why she killed her mother and her psychiatrist. They must have spent years trying to help her realize the truth
.”
Olivia nodded. “Probably, but we’ll never know for sure. Woody agrees with my theory that her half-brother, Donald, was the person responsible for her father’s death. It might be that Haley, or I should say Elizabeth, also blamed her mother for what happened.”
We continued to chat about the Wonderland case for a couple minutes before Olivia mentioned that Reginald Dunbar had been released from jail and all charges against him had been dropped.
“In a way, it’s too bad,” I said. “The man’s a monster who ruined the lives of several women.”
Olivia agreed, adding, “Maybe karma will eventually catch up to him.” She then warned me about our upcoming meeting. “I want you to be prepared for what the chief has to say today. I have a feeling it’s going to be ugly.”
We were near the windows overlooking the reflection garden, where the badges of fallen officers had been honored, including those belonging to my father and Charlie.
“What do you mean by ugly?” I asked.
“Multiple homicides, including one of our own, and one of my detectives committed the crime. I’m recently promoted and new to my position. You do the math. I could very well lose my job.”
My phone was ringing as I said, “None of what happened was your fault. And Darby’s behavior with Mel started long before you were promoted.”
Olivia smiled. “If you say so.” She looked at my phone. “Better answer that.”
I took a breath as I said hello, then heard a woman say, “Look out the window.”
I instantly knew I was hearing the voice of Harlee Ryland. “What are you talking about?”
“The window,” she said. “Take a look.”
The line clicked dead as I looked through the window, seeing the object. Red lights were blinking as it hovered in the air directly in front of us. Then I saw the wires, the cylindrical objects it was carrying. All at once I realized it was a bomb strapped to a drone.