by M. Z. Kelly
“Mr. Whipple?” Natalie said, giggling.
Claude scowled at her. “That’s my last name.”
Mo put her hands on her wide hips and looked at Farnsworth. “You really expect us to live with a blood sucker named Whipple?”
“I resent that…”
The attorney interrupted, addressing Mo. “The lease agreement that you signed clearly specifies issues regarding residency, probate, and rightful access to the property pending resolution of the estate.” He looked at me, maybe thinking I was more in control of my emotions and mouth than my friends. “You will need to find a way to share the home until the court makes a ruling.”
I was about to respond when I heard a swooshing sound, something moving through the air. There was a flapping of wings as the bird known as Maurice swept by us and said, “Fuck-you.”
“I think we’ve just been given the bird again,” Mo said. She turned to Claude. “Maybe he’s a really a bat, a vampire just like you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Claude said. “Maurice is harmless.” The little man put two fingers against his lips and whistled. In a moment Maurice flew down from the rafters and landed on our new roommate’s shoulder. Claude removed a treat from his pocket and rewarded his flying companion before telling us, “We’re best of friends.”
“Figures,” Natalie said. She turned to me as the raven’s dark eyes regarded us. “We got us a vampire and a fuck-you cuckoo. You gotta do something ‘bout this, Kate.”
Why was I the one who had to do something? I started to respond but came up empty, realizing I’d been struck speechless by the night’s events.
Claude turned to Mo and Natalie as Maurice gave them the evil eye. “I demand full access to the property and that you also stop referring to me as a vampire.” He sniveled, brushed a tear. “It brings up some painful childhood memories.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet the other kids called you Eddie Munster.” Mo said.
Farnsworth stood up to leave. “You will all just have to work things out.”
I walked the attorney to the door and said, “Is there any way we can expedite the probate, or at least get a court ruling regarding Claude’s claim to the estate?”
He turned to me before leaving. “I’m afraid not. As you know, the legal system operates on its own terms and speed. I would suggest you find a way to make friends…” He glanced over at our new roommate and the bird on his shoulder that was looking at my friends and cursing again. “…with the Count and his raven.” He laughed as I closed the door behind him. Why is everyone a comedian when it comes to someone else’s problems?
I walked back over to my friends and Claude, whose relationship had now apparently taken a new turn; they weren’t speaking to one another.
“Okay, let’s find a way to work this out,” I said, taking a seat across from them.
I looked at Claude who had his hands on his knees, his big belly spilling over his belt as he did a stare down with Mo while Maurice turned his head back and forth, maybe trying to think of some new curse words. I decided that Claude did kind of remind me of a Dracula version of the Dough Boy.
“There are clearly some trust issues here,” I said to Claude, “given that we don’t know you and you insist on living with us.”
“And you think I’m a vampire,” Claude said, scowling at my friends.
Mo glowered at him. “If the fangs fit…”
I shook my head and Mo held her tongue. I looked back at our new roommate as Bernie settled at my feet again but his eyes remained fixed on Maurice. I went on, “This is a big house, maybe there’s a way to separate our living spaces.”
Claude huffed out a breath. I had the impression that he’d been traumatized by my friends but that wasn’t an unusual reaction. I’d seen lesser men, maybe not vampires, end up in tears around them.
“I suppose…I could…” Claude scratched his head. “There is a basement. I guess I could move my belongings down there until things are settled but I still want kitchen privileges.”
“The basement is the perfect place for you,” Natalie said. “Mo and me can help move your coffin down there.”
Claude turned to me. “See what I mean?
I glared at my friends. “We’re all going to make this work and be on our best behavior.” I looked back at Claude. “I think the basement is a good solution for the time being and for all parties involved.” I regarded Maurice who seemed to be giving me the evil eye. A scene from one of Alfred Hitchcock’s movies came to mind as I said, “Maybe you could also take Maurice with you?”
Claude agreed to the arrangements. We found there was a small passageway leading to the basement directly off the kitchen. We spent the next hour gathering his belongings and helping him move into his new quarters with his fowl companion. Our roommate’s new living quarters included a small sitting room, a bedroom, and a bath. It was dreary but at least Claude and Maurice had their own living space away from me and my friends.
Mo ordered a pizza and we shared a bottle of Chardonnay after Claude and Maurice had retired for the night. I was exhausted and wasn’t looking forward to working our case tomorrow, given that I’d be working with an egotistical jerk.
“Anything breaking on Jiggy’s murder?” Natalie asked after we began working on our pizza that had just arrived.
My friends know I can’t talk about my cases but that never deters them. “We’re still doing interviews, gathering facts,” I said, trying to deflect the question.
“I heard that Jiggy had his share of enemies,” Mo said, already working on her second slice of pizza. “If one of his girlfriends didn’t whack him it mighta been somebody from the real estate business.”
What she’d said intrigued me. I knew that I shouldn’t be talking about the case but the wine was working in my system and my defenses were down. “You mean, one of his co-stars on the TV show?”
Mo shrugged. “Don’t know. All I know is from what I heard, Jiggy had a lot of investments. Maybe somebody got cheated along the way and paid him back.”
“I got me a feeling Jerry knows somethin’,” Natalie said. “I’m gonna pump him for the 411 when we go to the Laugh Factory.”
“I thought you cancelled your date since he lied to you,” I said.
“I wouldn’t call it a lie, just a miscommunication. Besides, Jerry’s hot and rich, and I’m not gettin’ any younger.”
Natalie was twenty-four. “Yes, you’re practically middle aged.”
“I know. If I don’t watch it I’ll end up fat and gray and hooked up with somebody like Claude Whipple.”
Mo said, “Honey, you end up with Claude and I’ll drive a stake through both your hearts.”
Natalie turned back to me, the excitement in her voice growing. “Mo and me are going undercover. We’re gonna pretend like we’re a couple of rich bitches look’n for a place to buy up in the hills and ask around ‘bout Jiggy in the process.”
“You can’t do that. You’ll just be looking for trouble.”
“Already got us an appointment with one of them big shot Hollywood realtors,” Mo said. “She’s gonna show us something in the ten mil range tomorrow.”
I started to argue with them but decided it was useless. “Just be careful.” I yawned. “I’m going to call it a night. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
As Bernie led the way up the stairway Mo called out, “Don’t let the gargoyles bite.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next day things went from bad to worse. After talking to Buck last night about us possibly getting together over the weekend, I’d been unable to put my case out of my mind and had a restless night. I’d finally drifted off to sleep but forgot to set my alarm. When I glanced at the clock I saw that I was late for work and sprang out of bed. I jumped in the shower, washed my hair, and then screamed. Mo and Natalie came into my room after I got out of the shower and grabbed a towel.
“Did you see a ghost?” Natalie asked. She was carrying a stick like she planned to club Caspe
r over the head if she found him.
“No. There’s no hot water and I’ve still got shampoo in my hair.” I tugged at my soapy locks. Despite some recent work by a new stylist my hair tended to have a mind of its own.
Mo shook her head. “I can’t cope without a hot shower. I’m gonna talk to Larry, see if he can fix things.”
Larry was Mo’s boyfriend but I had a feeling Ravenswood’s plumbing problems were beyond help.
After they left I took another cold shower, used some conditioner, and spent a half hour with a blow dryer before I decided it was hopeless and surrendered to the follicle gods. I stopped by the kitchen on the way to my car, looking for my keys, and saw that my friends and Claude were sharing breakfast burritos.
“These are the bomb,” Natalie said, offering me one of the burritos. “Did you know that Claude’s a gourmet cook?”
I accepted the offer of a burrito before Mo said to our new roommate, “Maybe these living arrangements are gonna work out okay after all, Claude. Do you know how to bake a pie?”
Claude basked in my friend’s approval, apparently forgetting they thought he was a vampire. “I have several old family recipes. I’ll bake something for you this afternoon.”
I guessed that the way to a vampire’s heart was through the kitchen, rather than a wooden stake.
“I’m late,” I told the gathering, grabbing Bernie’s leash off the counter. “I’ll see you all tonight.”
***
When I got to the station I found the lieutenant, Gluck, Pearl, and Carl Hammer already in a conference room discussing our case. I settled Bernie in a corner and apologized for being late.
“Trouble with vampires?” Gluck asked.
“As a matter of fact, yes.” My partner had on one of his knock-off designer suits again and was wearing his contacts. It looked like his Hollywood hiatus had been short lived.
Edna’s eyes narrowed on me. “Let’s cut the crap. We just got Carl up to speed on everything and he’s got a new angle on our case.”
I nodded at the smug little detective who was grinning like a pickpocket who’d just put his fingers on a fat wallet. The thirty-something cop looked like he was right out of central casting, made for the detective role he was playing. Square jaw. Piercing blue eyes. Short brown hair. And a smile that was one tooth short of a smirk. He was handsome if you liked overconfident little assholes. Having met him before, I knew that The Hammer’s one shortcoming was being a couple of inches shorter than me.
“The lieutenant filled me in on Biggs’ relationship to both Jerry King and Barry Steiner,” Hammer said, his voice resonating with confidence. “I think we should look at how his financials stack up with the others investors.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I said.
“The condos, the penthouse on Highland, and the beach house. I know what role King played in their acquisition, but I think we should take a look at his financial partners.”
It was the first I’d heard about the Biggs owning other properties and King investing in them along with others.
“We ran his credit,” I said. “We also looked through the paperwork in his home office but there was nothing about him owning property, other than the house where his body was found.”
His smirk blossomed. “I talked to King last night. He admitted that he and Biggs bought the Highland property together under an investment group called, Orion Enterprises. That’s where King incurred his debt to Biggs. It was a flip that flopped, resulting in him being into Biggs for almost a million dollars.” Hammer looked at me like I was the dumbest kid on the block.
I was angry that Jerry King hadn’t disclosed any of this information to us when we talked to him before. I was also angry with myself for not having gotten the information before the smooth-talking little detective. I consoled myself by deciding that maybe my leave had left me rusty.
Hammer went on. “There are private investors in the other properties that we also need to check out unless you’ve got a better idea.”
“That’s fine,” I said, feeling deflated.
“In the meantime, I’ll call the on-duty judge this morning, see if we can get a search warrant for the Highland property,” Pearl said. “It’s been vacant, sitting on the market unoccupied, but it could be that Biggs spent some time there.”
“Let’s make it happen,” Edna said. “Depending on what we find, I think it’s also time that we brought Jerry King in, put him in the box for a while, and see what else he gives up.”
I spent the morning with Hammer and Gluck checking into Orion Enterprises. We learned there were almost a dozen investors in the properties owned by Biggs and each of those properties was heavily mortgaged. The investors were all wealthy but there was nothing to indicate they’d had any problems with our victim.
Just before noon Pearl announced that the search warrant for the Highland property had come through. Hammer asked if he could catch a ride to the penthouse unit with me. I agreed, but then on our way out of the station Gluck said he was riding with Pearl. I had no desire to spend time alone with the smart aleck little detective but had already committed.
No sooner had I pulled out of the parking lot, than things began to turn personal.
“I heard you took some time off after…” Hammer looked away, but his eyes found me again as I turned onto Hollywood Boulevard. “…after the shooting.”
I glanced over at him, back to the highway. “I needed the down time.”
The leave he was referring to was the three months I’d spent on Catalina Island. A man named Ryan Cooper had killed my father when I was a little girl. He’d been stalking me in recent months and ended up shooting and killing my boyfriend, Jack Bautista. I’d survived the encounter with him only because my half-sister, Lindsay, had shot and killed him.
The shooting had left me emotionally devastated and I’d needed the time away to begin healing. I’d finally moved past what happened only after meeting Buck McCade. He’d helped heal some of the broken places that I knew were still not completely mended.
My thoughts surfaced as Hammer went on, “I was there…for the funeral.”
“What?”
“Jack’s funeral. I was there.”
“I appreciate that.”
I could see him studying me out of the corner of my eye. I shifted in my seat and brushed a hand through my frizzy hair, feeling uncomfortable.
“Maybe you’d like to have a drink sometime. We could get to know one another better since we’ll be working together.”
I glanced at him, seeing the confident smirk. “Maybe you should check with your wife first. I heard you’re married.”
He shrugged. “It’s on the rocks.” He continued staring at me. “What do you say?” He brought his hand over, touching my shoulder.
I brushed his hand away at the same time Bernie stood up in the back seat. “I say no thanks.”
“Come on. You can’t stay on the beach forever.” His hand came back over.
I brushed it off more forcefully and glared at him. “What part of no don’t you understand?” Bernie released a protective growl.
Hammer laughed. “Monday night. Eight o’clock at the Avalon. I’ll meet you at the bar.”
“You’ll have a long wait.”
He continued to grin. “We’ll see about that.”
“Tell me something,” I said, just to change the subject. “Why my case?”
His teeth gleamed as his grin widened. “I happened to mention it to The Beast at a cocktail party. He said he wanted me. And you don’t say no to The Beast.”
“Another feather in your cap?”
“Something like that.” He studied me for a moment. “You might want to play nice with me. It could be worth your while.”
I pulled to the curb in front of the Highland Park Towers and turned to him. “I have no intention of playing with you. Get it through you head.”
His smiled slipped away, his features hardening. “Suit yourself. I hear you’re
damaged goods anyway.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Bernie had his muzzle inches from the little detective’s smug mug. It had no impact. “A leaky ship, full of lead.”
I understood what he’d meant. I’d been falsely accused of leaking information to a detective on a prior case. I’d also been shot during my encounter with Ryan Cooper.
I glowered at him. “Do me a favor. Stay the hell away from me.”
Hammer had his smug little grin back when we met up with Pearl and Gluck on the sidewalk. I took several deep breaths and made a point of avoiding him, walking into the building with my new partner. I finally recovered enough to ask Gluck, “So what gives with the Hollywood look? I thought you’d gotten the message.”
“I saw a documentary on Brad Pitt last night. Did you know he was the crazy chicken?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Brad worked at El Pollo Loco right here in Hollywood for several years before he got discovered. He dressed up as a crazy chicken and danced around on the sidewalk.”
“Maybe you should get a chicken costume instead of the designer suits?”
Gluck laughed as we reached the lobby. “They interviewed him for the documentary and he said something about not letting other people get in the way of your dreams.”
I was still angry over my encounter with Hammer and what he’d said touched a nerve. “Are you referring to me?”
We stopped at the elevators. “No. I just realized I was making a mistake by giving up on myself before I even got started.”
I huffed out a breath and regarded him as the elevator rang. “Just be sure it doesn’t get in the way of doing your job.”
The penthouse suite was a couple thousand square feet of opulence. At first glance I thought it might have been staged by an interior designer to help it sell. Then I heard a familiar voice from the bedroom and soon realized the penthouse had been used for other purposes.
“It looks like one of them flying trapezes,” Natalie said to Mo as I walked into the bedroom. There was a harness hanging above a circular bed. While I’d never used one of the devices I knew it was a sex swing.