The Dead and the Beautiful

by Cheryl Crane

  “It happened too long ago,” Nikki came back. “It was filmed before she met the husband. Before she had her daughter. She’s obviously reformed.”

  They were both quiet for a second. They sipped their coffee.

  “I’d tell you again to back off, but I’m thinking that’s going to be a waste of my time and yours.” Dombrowski met her gaze. “If you find any real evidence that suggests she didn’t do it, will you let me know?”

  She stood there thinking for a minute, savoring the warmth of the cup in her hand and the aroma of the coffee beans. “Did you look into any of the Fab Four?” she asked. “Did you question them?”

  “Didn’t have cause. You know we have limited access to celebrities. And as soon as they hear that the police want to speak with them, they’re calling their attorneys.”

  He didn’t say they couldn’t be suspects. She was quiet for a moment, then said, “Well, I have that appointment. I should go.”

  “If you had any information that might suggest I should talk to them,” Dombrowski said under his breath, “you’d tell me, right?”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Of course, Detective. Thanks for the coffee. Have a good day.”

  On the ride up in the elevator, Nikki wondered if it was time she talked to the Fab Four. She could probably finagle a way to speak with Kameryn on the set of Casa Capri, but Julian and Angel would be trickier. Maybe it would make more sense to talk to their spouses? They’d certainly be easier to get to. It also made sense to her to look into the Fab Four’s past. She knew they all met in their teens when they were cast on School Dayz. They had to have worked with many, many people. She thought about Asami and Megan. They were the kind of people who knew what kind of person Victoria Bordeaux really was.

  Nikki stepped off the elevator. “Good morning, Carolyn,” she called to the receptionist.

  “ ’Morning. An Oda left a message that she’d given the names at the door of the nightclub for Thursday night.” She held up a yellow While You Were Out notepad. “She said you’d know what she meant.”

  Nikki grinned. The call she’d made to Oda had panned out. Jessie and Monica would be the happiest girls in L.A. this week.

  “And Mr. Belka is waiting for you in the conference room. He didn’t want anything to drink.”

  “He’s early?” Nikki hurried down the hall. “Thank you, Carolyn.” In her office, she pulled her cell out of her Prada and dropped the bag into a drawer in her desk. She grabbed a file and her laptop and, with a smile, walked into the conference room down the hall. “Mr. Belka, great to see you again.”

  He stood and pumped her hand enthusiastically. “You looking as pretty always, Nikki.” Originally from Poland, his English wasn’t always perfect, but she never had a problem understanding him. In fact, she found his accent as charming as his personality.

  “I apologize for making you wait. Please, sit down.” She took the chair next to him. He was a balding, paunchy man in his early sixties; nothing to look at, but a really nice guy. “Crazy morning. I have house guests, and I had to drop my car off at the dealership for an oil change, and—” She chuckled. “So it goes on a Tuesday morning.”

  “You should call me, I come later. Tomorrow.” He raised his voice at the end of his sentences, as if asking a question.

  “You’re a busy man, Mr. Belka. I wouldn’t do that.”

  He pulled an envelope from inside his suit jacket and slid it across the table to her. “I have dese tickets. Six of dem. American baseball, Dodgers. Goods seats. Box seats. For you.”

  She looked at the envelope in front of her. “That’s so nice of you, but I couldn’t take them.”

  “For Saturday. I will not in town. You take dem. You go, or”—he shrugged his broad shoulders—“you give dem to friend.” He laid a hand on the envelope and slid them toward her. “Please. Someone else, dey give dem me. You make me feel bad, dey go to waste, you not take dem.”

  Nikki smiled. Jeremy and Jerry loved baseball. Maybe they could all go together? She smiled. “Thank you so much, Mr. Belka.”

  “Please. We will do business together you and I. You call me Jakub.”

  “Okay.” She slid the envelope of tickets aside. “Jakub, I think you’re going to be happy with the properties I’ve found for you to take a look at.” She flipped open her laptop. “I thought you could see what you might be interested in, and we can meet later this week and go take a look.” Which will give me time today to get back to work on my murder investigation.

  After Jakub Belka left, Nikki took care of some paperwork on her desk. She set up two appraisals and an inspection, and called a bank to look into a snag with one of her client’s escrow accounts. Then she called a broker to talk up one of the properties she’d had listed for a while, and ended up in a long conversation about the guy’s mother-in-law’s illness. Nikki was trying to get off the phone gracefully when her cell rang. It was Jeremy. Seeing his number come up made her smile; then she felt silly. What? Was she still in high school? Of course, Jeremy hadn’t called her very often when they were in high school. He was too busy being a teen mega star.

  “Sorry, John,” she cut in. “I’ve got a call on another line. Big client. Big,” she repeated. “I’ve got to go.” She barely let him say good-bye before picking up her cell from her desk.

  “Jeremy!”

  “Hey, Nik.” He didn’t sound like himself, but he didn’t sound too down in the dumps either.

  “I was going to call you at lunch,” she told him. “How’s your day going?”

  “Fine. Had a cancellation.” Phones rang in the background. “Just thought I’d . . . say . . . hi.”

  Nikki hated the awkwardness she heard in his voice. The awkwardness she felt. What if she was wrong about Alison and she lost Jeremy over this? “I . . . was going to call you,” she said, “and see if you and the kids wanted to go see the Dodgers this Saturday. A client gave me box seat tickets.” She eyed the ticket envelope on her desk. “I’ve got six, so I thought we could even ask Jocelyn. If you want.” He wasn’t saying anything on the other end of the line. “Or not. If you . . . just want to take your kids.”

  “Saturday? Sorry. Can’t.”

  She felt an immediate sense of disappointment. Her first impulse was to say, “Can’t or don’t want to?” but she caught herself before the words came out of her mouth.

  “We made plans with my mom and dad. LEGOLAND. They’re coming up from San Diego to meet us. Staying in the LEGOLAND hotel and everything. Everyone is looking forward to it.”

  This was the first Nikki had heard about LEGOLAND. She usually knew everything that was going on with Jeremy. “Oh . . . okay. Well . . . that should be fun. It’ll be nice for you to get away. You and the kids. See your mom and dad.”

  “Yeah, definitely. Jocelyn’s coming, too.”

  “But not Alison?” It was out of her mouth before she could catch it.

  “No.”

  They were both quiet for a second.

  “Jeremy,” she finally said. “I invited Alison and Jocelyn to stay a few nights because I thought it might be easier on you. To give you some space.”

  “No, it’s fine. You’re right. Space.”

  Nikki squeezed her eyes shut. Opened them. “They didn’t move out of your house. They just came to mine to . . . stay a few nights. To give everyone some room to breathe.” She exhaled. “Jeremy, I don’t want this thing with Alison to be a problem between us.”

  “I don’t either,” he answered stiffly.

  The right reply, of course, would have been: Of course, not, honey. I would never let my sister’s murder charge get between us, even if you were trying to defend her when I think she’s guilty. But when did people ever say what they ought to say?

  “Maybe we can get together for dinner this week?” she asked, knowing she probably sounded totally pathetic. “Or just a glass of wine?”

  “Maybe. I’ve got a crazy week. And we’re leaving right after school on Friday. Nik, I have
to go. They seated my next patient.”

  “Sure. I’ve got to get going, anyway. Busy day.”

  “Talk to you later.”

  She didn’t know if he noticed he didn’t say “love you” before hanging up, but she noticed.

  Chapter 18

  The Internet was a wonderful thing. Nikki didn’t discount the importance of meeting people face-to-face; that was sometimes where she got her best information when she’d investigated the other murders. Whatever it was about her personality that made people think she was easy to talk to was an advantage. But the Internet was a good place to start her questioning. And it was a heck of a lot faster than driving all over L.A.

  Not surprisingly, there was a ton of information on the Disney Fab Four: articles, blogs, photos. There were websites devoted to their TV show, School Dayz, which she read was now being watched by a new generation of kids. Once the show ended, it went into syndication, not only in the U.S. but in other countries as well. There was a huge fan club in Australia; six months ago, Angel and his band had played to a sold-out audience three nights in a row in Sydney.

  There were also websites devoted to the individual stars of the runaway teen hit, which really appealed more to pre-teens, from what Nikki gathered. The first hits on the Internet, surprisingly, were devoted to the now-deceased Ryan Melton, who wasn’t even a cast member. No one had anything bad to say about him before his death; now, he was approaching sainthood. There were sites for fans to leave comments, tributes, or even contribute money to some sort of foundation.

  After taking a break, drinking a cup of green tea and eating a bag of cashews, and returning a few phone calls, Nikki began to research each of the cast members individually, starting with Diara. She learned what Diara’s favorite perfume was, what she ordered at Starbucks, and who her favorite designers were: Prabal Gurung and Al-tuzarra. There was chatter about her role on Casa Capri and significant positive reviews. Nikki found postings of Diara’s best hairstyles, information about her childhood, and tons about her marriage, but nothing about her cheating on Ryan; not a hint of impropriety.

  Nikki moved on to examining Kameryn Lowe next. She found information on her fashion sense, her exercise regimen, and photos of the last vacation she and Gil spent with her cousins in Greece. Like Diara, there was nothing negative about her. Anywhere. The cattiest thing Nikki found was a fashion critic who thought the lipstick Kameryn was wearing at a movie screening was too bright.

  Research on Angel and Julian produced similar results. Lots of girls talking about how hot the men were, how great Angel’s voice was, and about how excited they were for the release of the new Calvin Klein ad featuring Julian. It appeared that Angel’s solo singing career was about to take off. Critics didn’t think he had range, and someone else said he was weak in melody, but his pre-teen and teen fans didn’t seem to care. Julian had two movies coming out in the next year in which he played supporting roles, but was getting good reviews.

  Nikki couldn’t find any dirt. On any of them.

  She went back to looking up info on School Dayz. With her initial research done, she was hoping to find someone who had worked with the Fab Four who she could talk to. She found an assistant producer, now working on The Tonight Show, filming in Universal City. She also found someone named Maurice Pillion who was a cast member for two seasons. Then his character was written off the show. She found an interview that mentioned tension between him and Angel and Julian on the set. After Maurice’s character left the show, the actor had guest-starred in various TV comedies and dramas, with no parts that were memorable. He had starred in a family drama that lasted only half a season. In the last two years, he’d only appeared once, and that was on a celebrity game show. Apparently, his career had fizzled out.

  Maurice Pillion owned a comic book store in West Hollywood. Bingo! Captain Kinney’s Comics. Kinney had been the name of Maurice’s character on School Dayz. She went to the store’s website, read up on what was new in the comic book world, and decided to go pick up a couple of comic books for Jeremy’s son, Jerry. She was always buying things for the girls because she knew what they liked, but Jerry was harder. He’d be tickled if she showed up at the house with something other than a T-shirt or a cupcake for him.

  At four forty-five, Nikki was on Melrose Avenue looking for a place to park. She’d grabbed a ride from someone in the office to the car dealership and picked up her Prius. She found a spot on North Fuller and walked to the store, which featured comic books and collectibles, according to the website. Nikki walked into Captain Kinney’s Comics; a bell rang somewhere in the store.

  “Welcome to Kinney’s Comics,” a young man called from a register at the counter in the middle of the store. He was tall and slender, and wore a Spider-Man T-shirt and khaki shorts. College-age, he was cute and far too hip-looking to be working in a comic-book store. At least he was too hip-looking for Nikki’s idea of who worked at/went into a comic-book store. Of course, her opinion had been formed solely from episodes of The Big Bang Theory, which was about a bunch of science geeks living in Pasadena.

  She glanced at the display table closest to her. Comic books were laid out faceup with a sign advertising NEW RELEASES! AMERICA’S GOT POWER, WINTER SOLDIER, THE PUNISHER. She didn’t recognize any of these comics or the characters they featured. She moved to another table, these filed vertically, and picked up one. Wonder Woman. Aha! Wonder Woman, she knew. She flipped through a couple of pages and glanced around. There were two customers browsing, in addition to the teenager the clerk was helping at the counter. Nikki was the only female in the store, and the oldest by fifteen years. She replaced Wonder Woman and grabbed another. Aquaman. Aquaman, she also knew. Jerry liked Aquaman.

  She moved to a display shelf of Marvel Comics collectibles: action figures, jewelry, coffee mugs. She picked up a box with a Nick Fury S.H.I.E.L.D. Pistol in it. She had no idea what a Nick Fury S.H.I.E.L.D. pistol was, or who Nick Fury was, for that matter. She glanced around the store, trying not to look like she was casing the joint. She watched the teenager from the counter go out the door. She flipped the box in her hand over to read it. She held in her hand a replica of a needle gun prop. She still didn’t know what it was. She placed it back on the shelf.

  “Can I help you, ma’am?” the guy in the Spider-Man T-shirt called from the register.

  She met his gaze. Smiled the smile. “I’m just looking around.”

  He nodded, started to turn away, then turned back. “Aren’t you . . . ?” He pointed at her, as if having an aha moment. “Nikki Harper, Victoria Bordeaux’s daughter?”

  “That’s me.” Again, the smile.

  “Wow.” He leaned on the counter. “I grew up watching Victoria Bordeaux movies: The Widow’s Daughter, Fifteen Green Street, Tell Me No Lie.”

  “Really?” Nikki was genuinely surprised. This young man was not in the age group that still watched Victoria’s early movies. She walked over to the counter.

  “Fortune’s Wheel is my all-time favorite,” he told her. “It should have won best picture over Marty.”

  She lowered her voice and leaned closer. “My mother thinks so, too.” She stood up. “You’re young to be a Victoria Bordeaux fan.”

  He grinned and offered his hand to shake hers. “Sean McFee. I was raised by my grandmother. She said that when she was younger, people used to say she looked like Victoria Bordeaux. And my grandmother’s from Idaho.” His cheeks brightened. “So she always loved your mother.”

  “I love hearing stories like that. What’s your grandmother’s name?”

  “Elsie. Elsie McFee. She lives in a nursing home in Glendale now. Alzheimer’s. But I see her a couple of times a week. We still watch your mother’s movies together. Nana can’t remember what she had for breakfast, but she remembers all the plots to all the Victoria Bordeaux movies.”

  A door in the back opened. “Maury, guess who’s here?” Sean called. “Nikki Harper, Victoria Bordeaux’s daughter.” He turned back to Nikki. “Maury’
s in show business, too. Was. He starred in School Dayz when he was younger.”

  From his photos on the Internet, Nikki recognized the man who walked out of the back of the store. He wasn’t aging as well as his costars were. He looked older than his twenty-nine years. His brown hair was already receding and his skin looked splotchy. He had a bad spray-on tan that made him look glow-in-the-dark orange. His orange polo didn’t help.

  “Ms. Harper, nice to meet you.” Maurice Pillion offered his hand and shook hers. He wore a gold necklace, bracelet, and ring. The ring was on his right hand, not the left; according to Wikipedia, he’d never been married.

  “Nice to meet you.” The smile.

  “Hey, man. Can I help you?” Sean spoke to one of the other customers.

  The twentysomething guy nodded. “I’m looking for a comic called Mickey Finn. For my dad.”

  “Not sure if we have any. But if we do, they’d be over here in the case.” Sean turned back to Nikki. “Really nice to meet you, Ms. Harper. My nana will be thrilled when I tell her you came in today.”

  “Nice to meet you, too, Sean.” She returned her attention to Maurice. “Sean was telling me that you starred in School Dayz. I recognize you.”

  “That was a long time ago. Seems like another life.” When he looked at her, his pale blue eyes seemed sad. “Thanks for stopping by. What can I help you with? We just got more copies of the latest Kotaku in.”

  She must have had a weird look on her face because he chuckled. “You’re not looking for yourself, are you?”

  She laughed with him, repositioning her Prada on her shoulder. “No, I have no idea what Kotaku is. I was looking for something for a friend’s son. He’s in middle school. I wanted to help him start collecting comic books.”

  “Great age to start. You know what he likes?”

  “Hm. Aquaman. I know he reads other comics, but I’ve heard him talk about Aquaman.”

  “If you want to help him get started collecting, I’d suggest getting him something vintage, but not too expensive. Until you know he’s serious about collecting.”