Long, Lean, and Lethal

by Heather Graham

  Jennifer glanced quickly at her mother. Her physical condition had deteriorated as they sat there. The donut shop was filling up. It was time to go.

  In the car, Doug sat by Abby, holding her hand, telling her jokes, making her laugh. In front with Conar, Jennifer felt a swell of resentment growing within her. She tried to be rational. She loved her mother. Conar made Abby happy. And if this Molly person made Conar happy, then it should all just be fine.

  When they reached the house, Edgar told Jennifer there had been a call for her from Serena. She quickly called back. “What’s up with you for the day?” Serena asked. “I’m feeling like a large, lumpy couch potato.”

  “I feel as if my entire body is a headache. I’m going to lie out by the pool. Keep Lady company. I feel so guilty that she has to live outside.”

  “She has an air-conditioned sun porch and a huge piece of property,” Serena reminded her. “Edgar cooks choice meat for the dog. She is not suffering.”

  “Oh, I know. But some days, when we have long hours, I barely see her.”

  “Abby was saying that she goes out with her frequently. That as long as she’s outside with the dog, the hair doesn’t bother her.”

  “That’s true. But still …”

  “Want company to sit around with your dog?”

  Jennifer was surprised to realize that she hesitated—just a second. Serena in a bathing suit. She was just a shade jealous. She’d never been jealous before. Serena and Kelly were her best friends. What was the matter with her? Her face was burning. She hated herself.

  “Jennifer—”

  “Sure,” she said quickly, “it would be great if you wanted to come over.”

  “Think that cop will come hang around?”

  “Liam?”

  “Um.”

  “I … I don’t know. I’ll suggest to Conar that he invite him.”

  “Maybe I can get Kelly to come, too. Oh, do you think it will all be okay, with your mom and all?”

  “I think so. The company last night seemed to make her very happy.” The company had made Abby very happy. Had she been overprotective? No, she hadn’t wanted her mother’s picture on every rag in Hollywood, with the reporters talking about the terrible decline of such a stupendous actress.

  “We’ll see you soon.”

  She had called on the extension in her room. She hung up, changed into a swimsuit and cover-up, and headed back to the den. Abby was there, with Edgar at her side, helping her with the pills from the silver tray he carried. “There you are, sweetheart. I’m going down for a nap,” Abby told her.

  “Okay, Mother. Serena and Kelly are coming by to swim. Is that all right?”

  “That’s lovely. If I can sleep, I can actually spend some time with you all later.”

  “I’ll walk you on down.”

  “No, no, I’m fine. You go see to that big, beautiful monster of yours.”

  Abby looked very frail suddenly. She was shaking as she rose, kissed her daughter’s cheek, and started down the hall. Jennifer longed to go after her, but she refrained. Abby needed some independence, and some dignity.

  “Edgar,” she said at last, realizing they were both staring after Abby. “I was thinking maybe we could barbecue by the pool.”

  “I’ll get right on it, Miss Jennifer.”

  “Thank you, Edgar.”

  “How many people are you expecting?”

  “Just two.”

  “I’ll plan for at least ten,” Edgar said, and left her.

  She exited to the pool through the French doors. Walking out to one of the lawn chairs, she saw that the pool was already occupied. Conar was swimming laps, cutting sleekly across the forty-foot length of the pool. Lady was nearby, paws crossed, as she lay by his lawn chair, waiting.

  There were books on the patio table by his chair. Sitting on the next lounge, she picked up the top book, the one he had been reading. Hollywood Murders. She began flipping through it. It started with the murder trial of the famed comedian Fatty Arbuckle. It included suicides, bizarre deaths, and more. She frowned, studying the case of a man name Albert Frecky. Turned down for one role too many, he began murdering young actors who were selected for the work he had coveted. Each murder had been different—the actor chosen for a Houdini movie had been sawed in half in a box; the man chosen to star in a sea movie had been drowned. In all, he had killed five of his competitors before being discovered by police.

  Water dripped on her arm. She looked up, startled. Conar towered above her.

  He wore boxer trunks to swim, but the bared part of his body was muscled, lean, and sensual. She felt a fluttering that caused her to grit her teeth.

  “Cheery reading material.”

  “Interesting,” he returned, reaching for his towel and stretching in his chair.

  Lady made a whimpering sound and headed up toward them. Jennifer went to reach for her dog. The huge creature set her face on Conar’s knee. He absently scratched her head.

  “Why are you reading this? It’s grisly.”

  “I found it in Abby’s library. It looked interesting.”

  “Conar, Brenda’s murder was an isolated incident. Maybe—”

  “I thought that this case was interesting. This jealous fellow who killed his competition.”

  “You think Brenda was murdered because she was competition for someone? My God, Hollywood is all competition.”

  “I don’t know. It just interested me.”

  “I wish you would find something more pleasant to read.” She turned away from him, adjusting her sunglasses.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lady nudge Conar’s knee, wanting more attention. He patted and stroked her long head, then looked up.

  “Oh, that reminds me. Molly is bringing Ripper.”

  “Ripper?” she queried.

  “She’s a good friend.”

  “From New York, I take it.”

  He nodded gravely. “She was driving out the week before I left. She’s a dancer and an actress, a good one. God, you should see her dance! And her voice. She’s a nightingale. Anyway, she’s doing a show in L.A., and she was driving, and I was tying up loose ends … so she has Ripper.”

  “You have a dog. Ripper. And you’re bringing it here.”

  “Him.” He slid his glasses back on and leaned back.

  “My mother is allergic to dogs.”

  “She manages with Lady. We’ll work it out with Ripper. She knows all about it.”

  “I don’t see how you can do this! Bring another dog to my mother’s. That’s so presumptuous. And what kind of name is Ripper? What is he, a rottweiler? A German shepherd? If your Ripper so much as pulls a hair out of Lady’s body—”

  He pulled his glasses off, staring at her. For a moment she felt a chill. “Ripper belonged to my wife, Jennifer. She loved him. I will never get rid of him, got that? Your mother understands. In fact, she’s anxious to meet him.”

  She felt the steamy heat of resentment rising in her again. How could she feel so angry and so … attracted—

  Aroused! All in one.

  Oh, God.

  She strode quickly to the pool, shaking, yet managed to execute a perfect dive into the eight-foot deep end. She swam the length beneath the surface and rose at the far end of the pool. The water was cool; the days were growing cooler. She swam to the other end, swam again. This time she swam right into Conar. “Sorry, I thought you were done with your laps.”

  She had touched him. The fluttering was going on again. Hot, acutely uncomfortable, deep inside her …

  “You are jealous, you know.”

  “Over your dog? I just think it’s rude, presumptuous, and discourteous.”

  “You’re jealous over me.”

  “You have a movie star mentality, Mr. Markham. You think you have to beat would-be lovers off with a stick. Well, you’re mistaken. We’re not all ready to throw ourselves naked at your feet.”

  “No?”

  He grinned. She turned and used the w
all to shoot away from him. She was a fast swimmer.

  He passed her in an instant. He was waiting at the far wall when she arrived.

  “Do you know what I think?” Keen gray eyes surveyed her pointedly. Reflections from the water made his eyes glitter.

  “Do I care what you think?” she countered.

  “Yeah, I think you do.”

  She turned, kicking away from the wall again.

  Once more he was at the other end, waiting. She plowed into him, fingers scraping his chest and belly, feeling the ripple of muscle, the heat of flesh.

  He grinned, catching her hands, drawing her to him before she could shoot away again. His grip was strong, his breath was hot, his whisper husky. “I think you’re just about desperate. I don’t think it’s my ego—hell, I don’t think it’s even me. I’m male and heterosexual and suddenly in your life.”

  “Oh, fuck you, asshole,” she told him, trying to free her hands, her face on fire. He didn’t let her go. He caught her chin. She went still suddenly as he studied her eyes.

  “I dare you,” he teased. Then his mouth ground down on hers, his tongue parted her lips and filled her. She felt a shot of fire streak directly between her legs. From a kiss, she thought with panic. He was right; she was desperate …

  She pushed against his chest, but somehow her hands lodged there. He was touching her as well. Fingers over her shoulders, teasing over the bra of her bathing suit, just slipping into the waist band of the pants. She could have crawled all over him. She didn’t feel the sun or the water; she forgot where she was, time and place. His hand, his fingers, crept farther. Some sound mewled in her throat. She wanted to impale herself against him …

  “Hey, there!”

  She drew back like a bolt of lightning, horrified by the sound of Serena’s voice. His fingers were tangled in her top, and it came away. She had to swim back for it, stand perfectly still against him as he laughed and tried to retrieve the situation. Her back was drawn to his front. She gritted her teeth, ready to cry with both outrage and frustration at the feel of his arousal against her.

  “Oh, jeez,” Serena began, halting in mid-stride. “I’m sorry if I interrupted something.”

  “No! You didn’t!” Jennifer said quickly.

  “We just got snagged here,” Conar said. “There you go, Miss Connolly. You should probably double-knot that thing if you don’t want accidents in the future.”

  Accidents?

  She swam to the far end of the pool, leapt out, and gave Serena a quick hug. “Wow, you got here fast.”

  “Hey, you’re getting me all wet,” she said, stepping back and slipping off the caftan she was wearing over a teal blue suit. “Kelly’s right inside. She was ready to go, just waiting for someone to call with a plan for the day.” She lowered her voice. “And the cop is inside, talking to Doug and Edgar. Thanks!”

  Jennifer felt a twinge of guilt. She hadn’t even thought to ask Conar about giving his friend a call. Fortuitously, he had arrived on his own.

  “How’s the water?” Serena called to Conar.

  “Cool—but great. It’s better in than out. And the sun is warm when it gets through the breeze,” he called.

  Serena dived in. A picture of grace and beauty as she swam toward Conar. Jennifer headed off to greet Kelly and Liam. She was not turning back.

  She heard their laughter. She didn’t turn.

  Molly was coming anyway.

  Doug, Kelly, and Liam were talking in the den, near the doors.

  “Hey, Kell,” Jennifer said, greeting her friend with a quick hug. She walked quickly to Liam, offering him a hand and smiling when he pulled her closer, giving her a hug.

  “Are you here on business?” she asked him quickly.

  “He just came to hang out,” Kelly offered.

  Liam had been smiling, but he sobered. “I’m still on the Brenda Lopez case. We’ve already formed a task force. Six guys.”

  “No clue as to her killer?” Jennifer asked.

  “Well, we’ve all kinds of information—but no real clues. Is Conar here?”

  “Out back.”

  “We were just waiting for a tray of special purple margaritas Edgar is whipping up,” Doug said.

  “Oh,” Jennifer murmured. She noticed Edgar behind the bar, getting ready to pour the drinks. She walked to the bar and realized that she was still dripping slightly from the pool. She had probably soaked Kelly and Liam. “I’ll take the drinks. Thank you very much, Edgar.”

  She carried the tray out. The others followed her to the pool. Liam hadn’t brought trunks, but he could borrow from Conar.

  Joe Penny slept late. Hours past noon. He was awakened by the phone call. As he reached for it, he noticed the body lying next to him, dead asleep. It was that “starlet” who was trying to get a role on the soap, and slept with him to help cement the deal.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Joe, it’s Hugh Tanenbaum.”

  “Oh, hi. You woke me up out of a deep sleep.”

  “Joe, what the hell are you doing sleeping?”

  “What the hell are you doing bugging me?” Tanenbaum fell silent.

  “I need help.”

  “With what?”

  “I need a name. A draw.”

  “You’ve got money. Hire a name.”

  “I need a name that can act.”

  “So?”

  “I want Jennifer.”

  Joe was so startled he didn’t answer for a moment. “Connolly?”

  “She’s the only one you’ve got that I know of.”

  “Why Jen? She’s a soap name.”

  “And she’s done big-name television specials, movies, more.”

  “Call her agent.”

  “You can influence her.”

  “Hey, she’s got a busy schedule, working for me, remember?”

  “I’ll film around your schedule. I … I’d met someone else I might have used, but …”

  “But what?”

  “I can’t find her.”

  “Who?”

  “Oh, just a bit player, but a pretty girl, bright … Jennifer would still be better.”

  “I’ll talk to her, Hugh, but I can’t make her do anything.”

  “Hey, I have a good reputation.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know, you can make her a star.”

  “Well, hell, yeah, maybe I can. Talk to her for me, will you? I’m not having a great day. I need to get this movie wrapped up fast. And I need a long vacation.”

  “What’s the matter with you?”

  “Nothing. Maybe I’m drinking too much. I can’t remember …”

  “What? You can’t remember what?”

  “Nothing, nothing. Just help out if you can, huh? Come on, remember how I gave a job to that girl when you asked?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I remember.”

  “And she was damned good, right?”

  “In your show?”

  “No, buddy, in your bed. Don’t you remember telling me she was the hottest piece of a—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

  “See what you can do. While I’ve got an ounce of sanity left, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  Joe winced, and hung up. As he turned back to lie down, he saw the sleeping beauty beside him. Shit, all he wanted in the morning was to be left alone. He’d promised her he’d see about getting a part for her, hadn’t he? Young women were always throwing themselves at him. He eyed the smooth curve of the starlet’s shoulder. She’d been good, very good. But now, on the morning after, stuck with her in his bed, he only wished he could wake her up and throw her out the door.

  That would be treating her like the trash she really was.

  A while later, Hugh Tanenbaum “just happened” to stop by Granger House. He sat by the pool, sipping a purple margarita, trying to convince Jennifer once again that she should do his movie. Brenda had been scheduled to do a small but important cameo role, maybe Jennifer would be interested. Hugh seemed so blasé. Damn. He had lost
an actress. It was almost as if he had misplaced her. She felt a chill.

  Edgar had steaks, chicken, lobster tails, and vegetables for the grill. Everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time. They ate. They drank, except for Jennifer. She kept sipping a soda rather than touch anything remotely alcoholic.

  Drew Parker arrived—he also just happened to be in the neighborhood.

  Abby came out in the later part of the afternoon, sat with Jennifer, Drew, and Hugh, and argued pleasantly about the amount of gore in the movies these days. Yet after a while Abby grew tired. As she spoke, Jennifer noticed her mother making an effort to swallow. The tremors were becoming more pronounced.

  Jennifer rose anxiously.

  “You see, I’m tiring right now, and thank God that I’m blessed with my daughter who knows my every move.” She smiled at Jennifer.

  “I’ll come in with you, Mom,” she said.

  “Walk me down the hall, dear. That will be nice.”

  Jennifer walked her in. They went down the hall and into her mother’s room.

  “Mother, you know, I’m so sorry, all this seems to be so much for you. I tried to keep people away for the longest time, and I seemed to do so well, and now—”

  “Jennifer, I’m enjoying the company. My darling, I’m uncomfortable at times, but I’m not dead yet.”

  “Mother!”

  “And I want you to have a social life.”

  “I have a social life.”

  “Okay, a love life.”

  “I’m young. I have plenty of time for a love life.”

  “Well, sex, at the least. God knows, I’m much older than you and I miss it like crazy. And it would improve your disposition. You wouldn’t be so cranky.”

  “I’m not cranky.”

  “Frustrated.”

  “Mother, really, I don’t want to have sex just to have sex. It should have meaning.”

  “Well, in most cases I would agree,” Abby told her, smiling. “But not for you. You just need some good sex.”

  “Mother!”

  “I would dearly love grandchildren.”

  “Well, maybe we can hire a few from Central Casting, Mom,” Jennifer said, aggravated. “Mom, I’m not in love, I’m not dating, and you’ll have your grandchildren. You were several years older than I am now when I was born, so please, give me a few years here, eh?”