by M. Z. Kelly
“I heard about Marcello and that Warner woman on the news. I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“What about names?” I asked. “Did you pick out names for our grandchildren?”
“I gave it a lot of thought last night. I think Betty would be a good name for the female.”
“Betty?”
“Something about her reminds me of Betty White. I think she’s got an old soul.”
“And the boy?” I asked, looking at Bernie who was sitting up in the backseat, giving me the impression that he was listening to the conversation.
“What do you think about Bubba?” Mack asked. “It kinda fits with Bernie and I’ve got a feeling he’s going to be a pack of trouble like his old man.”
“Bubba it is,” I said, looking at Bernie who did an air lick which I took for approval. “It’s settled.”
We talked about getting together later that night before I closed the phone and pulled to the curb at Mom’s house. I looked at Bernie, thinking about his situation and my dad. “I guess maybe you could call today, Father’s Day.”
We found my mother in the living room where she was reading something that was written in the 1960s about how to stage a street demonstration.
“We’re thinking about doing a flash mob on Sunset next month,” she said. “Everyone is supposed to come dressed like a hippie. Would you like to come?”
I shook my head as I sat next to her on the sofa. “I think I’ll be busy.” I brushed a hand through Bernie’s fur for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. I finally met Mom’s eyes and said, “I need to talk about Dad.”
Mom gave me a death stare and shook her head. “I’ve already told you I will not discuss it.”
I came closer, took her hands in mine. “That’s not acceptable. You probably saw on the news that a woman was shot to death last night. Her name was Linda Warner. She started the escort service, Discrete, in the 1980s. I thought that Jimmy Marcello, the man behind the escort service, was involved in Dad’s murder. But, before she died, Warner told me that Dad was killed because the past sometimes catches up to people.” I held on my mother’s gray eyes until her gaze came up to me. “I need you to tell me the truth; all of it.”
Mom stood and began walking toward the kitchen. “Leave it alone, Kate. Please.”
I followed and came around in front of her before she could leave the room.
“He was my father, Mother. My childhood was christened in the blood of his murder. I will not leave it alone until I know the truth.”
I saw her eyes start to fill before her gaze fell away from me.
“Please, Mother. Tell me what you know.”
She sighed like the weight of the past was bearing down on her. Her eyes slowly lifted, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Okay. Let’s sit down.”
We walked back to the sofa and took seats. I brought over a box of tissues and waited while Mom tried to compose herself.
She started to speak, but stopped several times before she finally regained enough control to say, “This is going to be difficult...for both of us.”
“Whatever it is, I’m ready to hear it,” I said softly.
Her gaze drifted off. “You were right, Kate. Your father did have suspicions that an officer might be working for the escort service. He was planning to tell his lieutenant before he was killed.”
“Pete Arroyo,” I said. “He was in charge of vice when Dad was killed. He was working for Marcello.”
“Yes, but he didn’t have anything to do with your father’s death. It was because of something else, something entirely different.”
I handed her another tissue as the tears came again. She dabbed her eyes, her words coming just above a whisper, “Your father had an affair.”
I sighed. The old photograph of the attractive woman sitting next to my father that I’d come across came to mind. I realized that I had probably made my dad out to be a hero when he was far from it.
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
She shook her head. “He didn’t cheat on me. It happened before we started dating.”
I met her watery gray eyes. “I don’t understand what that has to do with his death?”
“There was a man who found out about the relationship your father had. From what I know he and the woman your father was involved with had a previous relationship. He was very controlling and jealous.”
“The woman,” I asked. “What was her name?”
Mom sat there for a moment. Finally, she said a name that she probably hadn’t spoken in years, “Judie Crawford.”
I turned the name over in my mind, thinking it sounded familiar. Then I made a connection. Judie Crawford had been an actress at one time. “Wasn’t she in some old movies a long time ago?”
“Yes. Your father met her while working security work for one of the studios in his spare time.”
“And the man? What was his name?”
“Ryan Cooper.” She blinked. Tears spilled from her eyes again. “From what I know, he dated Judie before your father met her. She left him because he was abusive and dangerous. Cooper had moved to the east coast for a period of time before coming back to Hollywood.”
It occurred to me that I hadn’t heard of Judie Crawford acting in years. “What happened to her—Judie, I mean? Did Cooper harm her?”
She shook her head. “Like I said, he was jealous and violent. When he found out about your father and Judie, he became enraged. Your dad said that he came by the house one day while I was gone and threatened him.” Tears spilled from her cloudy eyes again. “I think he’s the one who killed your father.”
“Did you tell the police about this?
She shook her head. “I couldn’t. I was going to, bu...Cooper came by the house again the day after your father was killed. He made it sound like if I told anyone about him...” A flood of emotion overwhelmed her. She took a couple of minutes to compose herself.
While I waited, I felt my anger surfacing. My mother had known who killed my father all these years, but had said nothing to the authorities or to me. I understood how she might have been afraid of Cooper...but to say nothing?
When she regained some control over her emotions I said, “I don’t understand. How could you let Ryan Cooper get away with killing your husband, my father?”
My mother sobbed, clutching her sides. Her words came in hard spasms. “You don’t understand...if he’d known the truth...it wasn’t just me I was afraid he’d come after.”
“What are you trying to say?”
There were more tears, sobbing. “He might have tried to harm you, Kate. That’s what I was afraid of. I was trying to protect you.”
“Me? Why would he come after me?”
There was a gush of tears. Mom fell against me sobbing like a child. I held onto her as her body convulsed. After a long moment her gaze finally came up to me. The words she spoke were barely audible, like a voice that echoed the pain and memories of a past long forgotten. “I’m not your...”
“What?” I said, as her voice dissolved into tears again at the same time my own eyes were filling. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“Oh God, I should have told you when you were old enough to understand...but when your father was murdered and Cooper made threats I was so afraid...” More tears came, her words becoming unintelligible.
“You should have told me what?”
Mom blotted her eyes and drew in a ragged breath. “I adopted
you when you were a baby, Kate. Judie Crawford is your biological mother.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
Three days after talking to my mother I was still trying to come to grips with everything I’d learned. Maybe I should have been upset with Mom for not telling me about my biological mother, but I wasn’t.
The more I reflected on what had happened, the more I thought I understood the terror she must have felt. Her husband had been murdered by a deranged, violent man who had threatened her. And she had desperately wanted to protect her family
from a killer.
Would I have done the same thing if I’d been in her circumstances? Probably not. But I was in no position to judge what had happened over two decades earlier.
That night, at home, I asked Natalie and Mo to join me in the living room where I told them what I’d learned about my biological mother.
“So your mum thought you’d be in danger if she told anyone the truth?” Natalie said.
“According to Mom, Ryan Cooper was insanely obsessed with Judie Crawford, my biological mother. The day after he murdered my father, Cooper threatened to kill my mother if she ever told anyone about him. Mom was afraid that he’d also turn his rage on me if he ever found out that Judie got pregnant and had a daughter while he was away.”
“It seems like a big secret for your mom to carry around all those years,” Mo said.
“I think hiding from the truth became a way for Mom to protect herself. She also thought she was protecting me. And, maybe she was. As the years passed, it must have been increasingly difficult for her to even think about what happened, until she just closed her mind to everything.”
“So, are you and your mum still on speaking terms?” Natalie asked.
“Of course. We’ve talked a couple of times since the day she told me everything. She said that she understands about me wanting to contact my biological mother and talk to her. I learned that Judie Crawford gave up her parental rights a few months after I was born. I was adopted when I was eight months old, shortly after my Dad married my mother.”
“And your bio-mom,” Mo said. “Did she ever try and contact you?”
“I think that she came to the park to warn my father he was in danger on the day he was murdered.” I turned to Natalie. “She was the woman I saw waving to me at the pony rides when I was under hypnosis.”
What I didn’t say to my friends is that Judie Crawford had never made any other attempt to see me. Despite everything I knew about why she’d given me up for adoption, I felt sad at the realization that she’d never once tried to contact me.
“I remember seeing Judie Crawford on some old TV shows, maybe a movie or two,” Mo said.
“I did some research on the Internet,” I said. “She acted in a few television shows and half a dozen movies. There was even talk about her someday being nominated for an Oscar before she suddenly quit the business one day. My mom was tall like me, with green eyes and a dark complexion. I even listened to some old film clips of her and there was something about her voice that sounds a little like me.”
I then remembered the photograph. I excused myself, dashed to my bedroom, and returned with the old photo I’d found a few days earlier of the woman sitting next to my father when he was a young man.
I passed the picture to my friends and said, “This is my mother.”
“Wow,” Natalie said. “I see the resemblance in her face and hair.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Now I know who to thank for my hair and...”
“Hey, I’ve been thinking...your head looks bigger lately,” Mo said, interrupting and cocking her head back to examine me.
Natalie agreed. “Maybe solving the wedding murders has gone to Kate’s noggin.”
“It’s her hair,” Mo said. “Kate musta shaved J Lo’s head, stole her hair.”
“They’re extensions,” I said. “Robin did it last night.”
Despite their comments, I was thrilled with my new longer, thicker hair. After bartering with the insurance company, I’d finally received a small settlement from the fire that destroyed all my belongings. Hair seemed like as good a financial investment as any.
“Hair like that can only mean one thing,” Natalie said. She looked at Mo and said, “Kate’s vagina is smiling.”
“Nuthin better than a happy face down there,” Mo agreed. “Unless maybe it’s a happy meal.”
“Sorry to disappoint. Mack’s been away on business. We haven’t been together since our night at the Chateau Marmot.”
Natalie looked at Bernie who was resting at my feet. “You mean the doggy daddy hasn’t even seen the children?”
“We went over to Mack’s house a couple of days ago,” I said. “His housekeeper introduced us to the puppies. Bernie took to them right away. He and Thelma were wagging and nuzzling Betty and Bubba like proud parents.”
After a few minutes of more puppy talk, I changed the subject back to my mother. “I’ve been able to obtain an address for Judie Crawford through a couple of databases at work. She’s living in Las Vegas.”
“What about that Cooper bloke who murdered your dad?” Natalie asked.
“He dropped out of sight about five years ago. Before that time, he worked as a make-up artist in Hollywood. I searched the DMV and criminal databases on him and came up empty.”
“So you have no idea what he looks like?” Mo asked.
“I was able to obtain a picture of him from an old driver’s license. I think he looks like the man I saw in the park when I was a little girl, but I can’t be sure.” I looked at Natalie and smiled, thinking about my hypnosis session. “There’s even something about him that looks a little like Tony Soprano. He’s part of the reason I’m going to Vegas to see my mother. The department doesn’t think I have enough to reopen the case on my father’s death and I don’t even know if Ryan Cooper is still alive. But if he is, one way or another, I plan to bring him to justice.”
We moved into the kitchen where we poured ourselves some drinks and Natalie said, “I think Mo and me should go with you to Vegas and help you find your mum. We could take one of them road trips.”
I laughed. “I think I can go by myself. I’m a big girl.”
“You need the moral support, Kate,” Mo said. “What happened is some crazy kinda shit and you’re gonna need friends with you. Who knows, you might even go nuts and turn on your mother.”
“Yeah,” Natalie agreed, “like in one of them sicko movies. You could go barmy, bring out a knife, and slice her head off.”
“You forget. I’m a cop. I don’t go around chopping people’s heads off.”
I thought about what I’d said and realized it wasn’t entirely true. While the riots in the city had finally stopped with Reverend Vollmer’s arrest for child molestation, Jessica was still stirring things up at work, threatening to file a hostile work environment complaint against Charlie and me. I’d had fantasies recently about surgically removing her head.
Our case had officially been closed with Steven Drummond’s arrest for the murder of Jimmy Marcello. Drummond had admitted to the crime, but denied that his girlfriend, Melanie Grace, knew about his business ties to Marcello, and his plan to get back the Mishio Sequence by secretly going into business with the mob boss. Drummond had said that he was motivated both by greed and his hatred of Michael Clinton.
“I just bought a car,” Mo said. “Got me a 1973 Caddie convertible. We could take it to Vegas, stay at one of them fancy hotels.”
“And remember, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” Natalie said. “The three of us could get into some serious rumpy pumpy.”
I knew it was probably crazy, but getting away with Natalie and Mo for a few days did sound like fun. Maybe I could meet my biological mother and get to know her, but at the same time have a little fun with the girls.
“It would be kind of exciting, the three of us out on the road together,” I said.
“What about me coming, too?” Nana said, from the family room where she’d been watching TV with Prissy and Tex. “I got an old boyfriend, named Ace, who lives in Vegas. I’m getting tired of that plug-in penis. I need a real man.”
I was saying a silent prayer for Ace as Mo shrugged and said, “Guess we could drop her off.”
Tex overheard our conversation and said to Natalie, “While you’re gone, I think I’ll spend some time with Prissy at Voodoo Mama.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going for the goth look,” I said.
“Actually, I plan to do some research on the physiology of BDSM and the associ
ated subculture. I’ll be specifically focusing on the use of hot wax, flogging, and electro-stimulation.”
Prissy said, “There’s some talk about putting together a BDSM street fair on Sunset Boulevard this summer. We’re looking at having a spanking and bondage booth.”
“Whatever you do,” I said, “please don’t tell my partner, Charlie Winkler.”
***
The next morning, after packing and calling Mom and Robin to say goodbye, we all began piling into Mo’s convertible Caddie. Nana did a denture click and tossed her suitcase in the trunk.
“I’ve got shotgun,” Nana said, pushing past Natalie, Bernie, and me.
I settled Bernie into the backseat between Natalie and me as Mo took the wheel. The giant car was bright red with white interior. I felt like I’d hopped onto the deck of a boat.
Mo put the big boat into gear and said, “We got a long trip ahead of us, Nana. I don’t want no crazy shit like you peeling off your top when were on the freeway.”
“Now that you mention it, I could use a tan,” Nana said.
“Going topless might be fun,” Natalie said. “What do you think, Kate?”
“I think we should keep our shirts on, at least until we cross the state line.” I then reminded Mo, “Don’t forget to stop at Runyon Park for a minute. Mack’s going to meet me there with the puppies and say goodbye.”
When we got to the park, my fellow passengers waited in the car as I waved to Mack and the puppies and started over toward him with Bernie. I saw that they were near a pond, the puppies frolicking through the grass. When I was just a few yards away from them, I heard a voice coming up from behind me.
“Just so you know, the blonde at the airport was my sister.”
I turned and nearly fainted when I saw Jack Bautista standing next to me. “What? Jack...how did you know...”
“I called the house. Natalie’s boyfriend told me you were stopping here.” He motioned to Mack and the puppies. They were now walking in our direction just a few yards away. “So, who’s the guy with the dogs?”
I looked into his questioning dark eyes and then over to Mack. After a moment, I looked back at him and mumbled, “Umm...he’s uh...he’s Bubba’s grandfather.”