Hollywood Rage (The Hollywood Alphabet Series Book 18) Page 15

  “No prints or DNA,” Jenny said. “We did get some CCTV footage that’s interesting.”

  Molly used a remote, and another monitor came on, showing our victim, Carson Wakefield, and the female suspect arriving in his BMW at the massive glass residence on the hill. The security cameras were overhead and didn’t give us any close-ups. We saw Wakefield and our suspect walk through the residence before going outside to the pool.

  While the cameras only caught a distant image of the actual murder, it did show our suspect attacking the victim and pushing him into the pool, before walking back inside the residence. There were no cameras in the Heaven’s Gate room, so we didn’t see her leaving the message on the bathroom mirror.

  We had all been quiet as we watched the security footage. When it ended, Darby said, “Our girl obviously came with murder on her mind and didn’t waste any time.”

  “What about the car they came in?” Woody asked.

  “We’ve got our people searching for it, but nothing so far.”

  “Just like the Peters case,” Darby said. “It’s a big zero.”

  Olivia’s brows inched together. “Maybe a little more positive attitude would help.”

  Darby shrugged, but kept quiet.

  “Okay, let’s move on what we’ve discussed. If anybody gets something worthwhile on either case, put everyone else in the loop.”

  ***

  Dana Point, where Jackson Ellis’s parents lived, was in Orange County, about an hour south of Hollywood. As Leo drove, Olivia’s frustration with our cases was showing. As I made a phone call, I heard her telling Leo, “Chief Miles called me this morning. She’s clearly under a lot of pressure from the mayor on the Peters case. Her job is still in his hands, along with the city council’s, and, frankly, I’m worried.”

  I didn’t hear Leo’s response because I’d managed to get Monica Dunbar on the line. I spent five minutes again explaining who I was and asking if her husband had been home last night.

  When I ended the call, I told Olivia and Leo about my frustration. “She seemed very confused. I don’t think she remembered me or our previous conversation. She did confirm that her husband was home last night, for whatever it’s worth.”

  “Do you believe her?” Olivia asked.

  “I believe she remembered him being home, or thought she did, but I don’t think she’s processing things very well.”

  “I guess that leaves us with Jackson Ellis, or Lazarus, as our only viable suspect,” Leo said.

  Olivia sighed. “Let’s hope his parents can tell us something worthwhile.”

  Margaret and James Ellis, former professors of ancient history, lived in Laguna Niguel, an upscale bedroom community south of the more populated centers of Orange County. Their home was on a hillside that offered a view of the sprawling valley below.

  After ringing the doorbell a half dozen times, an elderly man came to the door. Olivia showed him her credentials, introduced herself, and said, “We’d like to talk to you about Jackson.”

  “Margaret, it’s the police,” the man, who I assumed was James Ellis, called over his shoulder.

  In a moment, his wife appeared at the door and introduced herself.

  “I’m sorry we haven’t returned your calls,” Margaret Ellis said. “I’m almost afraid to ask what our son has done now.”

  “I don’t want to hear it,” her husband said, moving off into the interior of the house.

  As she led us inside, his wife said, “I’m afraid my husband gets upset at the mention of our son.”

  We took seats in the living room, where Olivia explained why we were there. “It’s come to our attention that Jackson is the leader of...”

  “The Society.”

  “Yes. What can you tell us about that?”

  She exhaled. “I can tell you that it’s an abomination.” She took a moment to control her emotions. “Jack is mentally ill. It started when he was in college and has gotten progressively worse, maybe because of his drug use. Despite that, he’s extremely intelligent, controlling, and dangerous.”

  “When did you last see your son?”

  “It’s been a couple of months. He came around wanting money. When we refused, he became angry, and...” She folded her arms and shook her head. “He became physical with my husband.”

  “I’m sorry.” Olivia gave Ellis a moment as she blinked back tears before going on. “We’re here specifically because we think your son may have had some relationship with a woman named Marilyn Peters who was murdered recently. Her sister Melvina was also killed.”

  “Oh, God, tell me that you’re joking.”

  Olivia solemnly shook her head. “Do those names sound familiar?”

  “No, but I wouldn’t know anything about anyone my son has been involved with.”

  “We’re trying to establish what kind of relationship Jack might have had with these women. We know he went to college at San Francisco State at the same time Marilyn attended school there. Melvina, or Mel, as she was known, was a police officer.”

  She shrugged. “All I can tell you is that my son has two uses for people. Either he wants to control them or take their money. If these women had a relationship with him, it would have fallen into one of those two categories.”

  “Neither of them were wealthy.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Jack takes what he can and moves on.”

  “Do you have any idea where he’s currently living? We’ve heard rumors that he and his followers may have a compound somewhere.”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea, but he’s probably convinced someone, or maybe even blackmailed someone, into letting him stay somewhere. Like I said, he’s very intelligent and he’s a master manipulator.”

  A half hour later, we left the Ellis residence, feeling like we didn’t get much that would help us with our case. Woody called as we were getting into the car. Olivia put the conversation on speaker so we could all hear.

  “Darby and I just finished up with Baxter. He said that Mel mentioned her sister being heavily in debt and having to help her out. Our guess is that Marilyn was involved in a relationship with Ellis and he was taking her money. Mel might have interfered because she was having to pay off Marilyn’s debts, and first she, then her sister, paid the price for that.”

  “I think you could be onto something,” Olivia said. “Let me see what Jenny and Molly can turn up on the financial angle.”

  After Woody agreed with what she said, he mentioned the Wonderland case. “The press has picked up on the murder at Highpoint. The victim was well-known in certain circles as an architect to a lot of high rollers. I think the heat on that case is going to be turned up.”

  Olivia thanked him for the information and ended the call. As Leo put the car in gear, she said to us, “I don’t know about you two, but I have a feeling the heat Woody talked about is quickly going to turn into flames.”

  THIRTY-SIX

  We stopped for lunch after leaving our meeting with Jackson Ellis’s parents, then got stuck in heavy traffic and didn’t get back to Hollywood until late in the day. Joe called as I was getting ready to leave and asked me to meet him for dinner. I was exhausted, but agreed to dinner, mainly because of my earlier promise, but I also wanted to ask him for the latest on Harlee Ryland.

  It was just after seven when I took a seat across from Joe at The Edmon, an upscale restaurant located in the Hollywood Historic Hotel near Paramount Studios.

  “Nice place,” I said, admiring the art deco interior of the eatery.

  “I almost called and changed locations because of Bernie.”

  “I dropped him off with our new butler.”

  Joe was in his early forties, with sandy hair that was fading to gray and a strong jaw. He smiled. “Your butler?”

  “He lives in our attic.”

  Over drinks I told him more about our move to Craven House, the boy who had lived there and murdered his family, and finding Otto living in our attic. He broke down laughing several times,
before I ended by telling him, “The only good thing is when he’s not pretending to be a ghost, Otto works for free.”

  “I think I read something about the place where you’re living. Don’t they shoot movies there?”

  “As a matter of fact, they had cameras set up and were shooting a scene when I dropped Bernie off after work.”

  We chatted about my move a few minutes longer before I changed the subject. “So, what brings you to Los Angeles?”

  “Just a follow-up to debrief staff at the FBI building here about the bombings.”

  “The city’s still in recovery mode. I think it’s going to take years for people to get past the trauma. Any word on Harlee or her grandfather?”

  He shook his head. “As I mentioned when I called, we think they’re in Brazil, but they’ve gone to ground. Nothing on Pearl either.”

  I was frustrated, but remembered the photo of the money found with my father’s offshore account numbers that Natalie had forwarded to me. I pulled it up on my phone and showed it to him. “I talked to a banker the other day. He said the location of the offshore account could possibly be connected to the currency of the country found in the safe deposit box. Do you think the account might be in Singapore?”

  “I’m no expert, but I’ll pass this along to the agency’s number crunchers and let you know what they say.”

  “I appreciate that.” I sipped my cocktail. “Not that I’m sure what I would do if there actually is an account with drug money in it.”

  He smiled. “Let’s see if we can find the account, then cross that bridge.”

  Over dinner, we chatted about my cases. After giving him a brief overview, I said, “I feel like we’re getting nowhere on Wonderland, and chasing down leads that go in circles on Peters.”

  “I’ll ask around about this Lazarus character you mentioned. He sounds like a first class user.”

  “A brilliant mind that’s gone off the rails, according to what we know.”

  He smiled. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “Any thoughts on Wonderland?”

  He mulled over what I said for a moment, swirling the scotch in his glass. “Maybe there’s another variable.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

  “Maybe your case has less to do with the victims and is more about something from your suspect’s past.”

  “Like she’s living out a fantasy?”

  “Could be. It might also be that she’s trying to find closure for something that happened to her.”

  I was thinking about what he said as he tipped up his glass, set it down, and then moved the conversation in a personal direction. “So, how are things with you, besides the move?”

  I knew he was asking about my relationship with Ross. I took a moment before answering. “I’m still seeing...his name is Ross. We’re just friends, nothing serious.”

  “You mean there’s hope for me?”

  I smiled. Maybe it was the fact that I’d had a couple drinks, or that I was exhausted, but I said, “I think there’s lots of hope for you, Joe. I’m just not sure there’s any for me.”

  ***

  As I drove home from the restaurant, I replayed my conversation with Joe in my head, worrying that I’d given him false hope that we might become involved. Why hadn’t I simply told him the truth, that I thought we weren’t a good match because of our professions? Did I have feelings for Joe that I’d repressed, even keeping them from myself? He was, after all, a handsome man, supremely confident and secure about his place in life.

  When I got home, my concerns vanished because there was a nude couple on my sofa.

  “What the hell’s going on?” I asked Natalie and Mo. The man and woman weren’t completely naked, but there was enough skin showing for a soft-porn movie.

  “That’s Emma and Ryan,” Natalie whispered. “They’re just rehearsin’ for tomorrow’s shoot.” She smiled. “Mo and me are gonna work security, make sure no Peepin’ Toms try and peep.”

  I saw that Otto was standing in a corner, giving the couple the once-over. I motioned to him. “I think we might have a peeper under our own roof.”

  “Otto’s harmless,” Mo said. “Let’s go have a drink in the atrium.”

  Natalie had Otto fix us something she called Hog Wilds. “They’re guaranteed to make you squeal like a wild boar,” she said. “They got afro-dee-zee-act properties, too.”

  “I think baby sis means aphrodisiac,” Mo said. She smiled and ran a hand through her purple wig. “Me and Cleo can attest to what she’s saying.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s the last thing I need.”

  Natalie sipped her drink, then regarded me like I was someone from another planet. “When are you and that Ross bloke gonna get a leg over? If you don’t do the nasty soon, I’m gonna have to fix a batch of VQs.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Virgin Queens.”

  I laughed, maybe because I was still feeling the effects of the earlier cocktails, along with my Hog Wild. I then found myself saying, “I had dinner with Joe tonight.”

  “You got feelin’s for him, don’t you?” Mo said. “That’s why you got the parkin’ brake on your vagina.”

  “I don’t know.” I smiled. “Maybe.”

  “I knew it!” Natalie said, raising her voice. “Why don’t you put the move on him? Take it to the next level.”

  “I don’t know.” I sighed, realizing I shouldn’t have said anything. “I think the jury’s still out.”

  “You ask me, the jury’s hung,” Mo said. “What’s the latest with Lazarus?”

  “Nothing other than his real name is Jackson Ellis, and his mother says he’s mentally ill.”

  “Maybe the bloke was takin’ advantage of Marilyn, and things went all to pot for both the sisters,” Natalie suggested.

  What she’d said was similar to what Woody had said earlier. It made me think about the photograph of Mel and Marilyn with Ellis that we’d found on the Internet. While we hadn’t been able to establish that Marilyn and Jackson Ellis had been in a relationship in college, it made me wonder if that was the case.

  “I’ll do some more checking on him,” Mo said. “Somebody ‘round town has to know where his group’s staying.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “The press has picked up on that prossie slasher case,” Natalie said. “They’re sayin’ you coppers got things all cocked up, with no suspects.”

  “They would be right about the no suspects part of the equation.” I looked at Mo. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything on the streets about a working girl who’s gone off the rails.”

  “Nothing as bad as what you’re dealin’ with, but I’ll ask around.” She looked at Natalie. “That new lieutenant of Kate’s is gonna have to put us on the payroll one of these days.”

  “That’s bloody brilliant.” Natalie looked at me. “Tell Olivia we wanna be deputized, make the big bucks.”

  I laughed and stood. “I wouldn’t hold my breath about that. See you both in the morning.”

  I was headed for the door when Mo said, “Don’t forget, we’re supposed to go by Nana’s new place tomorrow night for a yoga session, and to plan Jessica and Boris’s engagement party.”

  I turned back to her and groaned. “I’m not sure if I can make it.”

  Natalie came over to me and lowered her voice. “You gotta go, Kate. Mo and me think Nana’s got a big problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We think her plastic surgery is goin’ south.”

  “Is it that bad?”

  Mo heaved herself out of her chair and joined us. “We got it on good authority that the old Nana’s old body’s ‘bout to break through her new body.”

  Natalie’s hazel eyes widened. “Bet she looks like one of them creatures that popped outta that guy in the movie Alien.”

  I knew it was useless to argue with them, and, the truth was, they’d now piqued my curiosity. “Okay, count me in.”
/>   THIRTY-SEVEN

  “Let’s begin with a discussion of what the press has been calling the Wonderland murders,” Sherry Miles said, after giving Bernie a treat. My big dog wolfed it down, then wandered back over to me.

  We were in the acting chief’s office at the police administration building in Los Angeles the next morning, with Miles and the deputy chief assigned to Section One, David Bronson. It was a command performance that included the entire Section One staff, including our crime analysts.

  The meeting had been orchestrated by Bronson, who had told Olivia that he wasn’t satisfied with the progress we were making on both cases. I had little respect for the deputy chief, since he had been instrumental in keeping the murder case on my adoptive father closed for a number of years.

  Olivia summarized the facts from both the Wonderland and Highpoint murder scenes, telling them there was little in the way of physical evidence at either location. She then used an iPad to show them the CCTV footage from the convenience store, and the security cameras at Highpoint. She added, “As you know, we’ve released the video to the press, but haven’t gotten anything worthwhile back.”

  “I don’t get it,” Bronson said. The deputy chief was a big man in his sixties, with a full head of gray hair. “The video is grainy, but somebody must have recognized her.”

  “We’ve followed up on all the calls, but nothing’s panned out so far. It’s possible our suspect has disguised herself.”

  “What about the calls she made to the victims?” Chief Miles asked.

  “It’s pretty clear that she set up the dates, probably on the Internet, but the calls and texts were from burner phones, so there’s nothing to follow up on.”

  Darby spoke up. “I’ve taken a look at all the active on-line prostitution sites. I haven’t seen anything that appears to be our suspect. It’s possible she posted something and took it down once she found the johns.”

  “Meaning these were random hookups?” Bronson said.

  “That’s our best guess.”

  “Then it doesn’t make any sense. There has to be a motive that we’re missing.”