Hollywood Blood: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller Page 16

  “You sound upset. What gives?”

  I felt myself tearing up again as I filled her in on my evening with Mack and about Jack’s phone call. Then I went on blubbering like an idiot about Baker and Skully, how I’d been accused of leaking information to the press, and everything else that had happened over the last couple of days. It all came out in spasms of tears and crying. I felt like a complete fool.

  Natalie listened to my rant and then, in the way only she can, gave me her two cents. “You listen to me, sistah. It’s better to be pissed off than pissed on. That flink of idiots you work with are so stupid they couldn’t piss in a urinal with their hands in the air.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh as she went on. “As for Jack, don’t let a tight butt drive you nuts. This Hudson fellow sounds like he’s hot lips and a bag of chips. Last I checked, your driver’s license allows you to park on both sides of the street.”

  “I think I’ve got the picture,” I said, turning onto my street. My meltdown felt like it had been therapeutic. “You know what, Natalie? You’re better than Dr. Phil.”

  “Yeah, and I’m not bald with a moustache.” She changed the subject, “When you get a chance, come by the goth shop. Prissy’s beginning to open up to me. I think she might know more about what’s been happening than she’s let on.”

  I pulled Olive to the curb, while promising Natalie that I’d stop by the store when I had a chance.

  I ended the call, helped Bernie out of Olive, and walked to the front of the appliance store. I had my key in the lock and saw that Jack was inside, waving to me. I then remembered that I’d given him a key and realized the building was already unlocked.

  I pulled my key out of the lock and the world exploded.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Bernie and I were knocked back by the force of the explosion. Flames shot into the air as a fireball erupted from where my apartment had once been. Then I recovered enough to realize that Jack was in the building.

  I ran back toward the doors that had been shattered by the concussion, calling out Jack’s name. I felt dazed and breathless from the blast, but forced myself to move forward through the smoke.

  Once inside, I scanned the store but there was no sign of him anywhere. As I was about to try heading up the stairway into the flaming fireball that had once been my apartment, I felt something tapping my shoulder.

  “Jack,” I said, turning and holding onto him. He looked dazed, on the verge of passing out.

  After some pushing and pulling, I was finally able to steer him out to the sidewalk. He lost his footing and went down at the same time Bernie began trying to lick him into consciousness.

  “Are you okay?” I asked and heard sirens coming up the street.

  He looked at me but still had that far away expression. He moved his hands in a circular motion toward his ears. I bent forward.

  “Can’t hear,” he said.

  I nodded, pulled Bernie back and reassured him, “Help is on the way.”

  I brushed the bangs from my forehead and exhaled, looking back at the destroyed building. Clyde’s Appliance Universe was now completely engulfed in flames. The building was a total loss. Everything I owned was gone.

  Something then caught my attention. I saw movement from a second-story window in a building across the alley from the store. Then I saw the woman, her long dark hair.

  “Myra,” I said, standing and yanking on Bernie’s leash.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  I turned back to Jack, leaning into him, and raising my voice. “I need to check something out. Will you be okay?” I motioned toward the alleyway.

  He nodded. “Go.”

  Bernie and I were up and running down the driveway toward the alley. I tripped, now regretting my choice of evening footwear. When I recovered, I glanced up and saw that the figure I’d seen in the window a moment earlier was gone.

  When I reached the office building, I found an unlocked door and went in with my gun drawn. Once inside, Bernie strained on his leash as I searched along the wall for a light switch. When I flipped the lights on, I could see a stairway leading to the second floor.

  We moved cautiously up the stairs. Bernie’s let out a deep, menacing growl as he pulled me forward. We stopped for a moment near the top of the stairway, listening.

  The protocol for releasing my dog required that he remain tethered until a suspect was located and resisted arrest, or there was imminent danger of great bodily injury or death. I had no doubt that Myra would resist and use lethal force in the process, but until she was located and that happened, my partner would remain under my control.

  When we reached the second-story landing, my eyes swept over the furnishings. It looked like someone had been living here.

  As I moved into the room I saw the body of a woman on the floor. I checked her for a pulse, even though I was sure she was dead. I then noticed the camera pointed across the alleyway toward my apartment.

  I took a moment, surveying the surroundings, before hearing footsteps from somewhere below. I realized there must be a second stairway at the rear of the building.

  I peered down the back stairway with Bernie, hearing what sounded like a door creaking open from somewhere below us. I realized that Myra had left the building and was probably on the run through the alleyway.

  Bernie and I bounded down the rear stairs and burst through the door into the alley. We came around a corner and stopped dead in our tracks. Myra stood in the street with an assault rifle. She raised the rifle in our direction and began firing.

  I yanked hard on Bernie’s leash and dove behind a brick enclosure with some trash bins, bullets exploding around us. Even with the cement and steel trash containers between us and Myra, the rounds blasted through the enclosure nearly hitting us.

  I attempted to return fire, but the bullets continued to fly and I couldn’t get a clear shot. After what seemed like an eternity, the assault suddenly stopped. I heard sirens and saw the police units coming up the alleyway.

  I ran back into the street and flashed my badge to one of the uniforms.

  “Did you get her?” I asked the young officer.

  He shook his head. “We heard reports of a woman shooting and had our units come up the street from both directions, but she was gone. It’s like she just flew away.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Myra tosses the assault weapon into some bushes and slips into the jogging suit she has in her bag. She pins up her hair beneath a baseball cap, and is off and running. She sees the cop up the street when she comes around a corner.

  “Hey you,” the cop says to her. “This area is closed off. We’re looking for an armed suspect.”

  She nods, moving across the street until she is away from the cops, the burning building in the distance, and the ambulance screaming down the street.

  When she’s a safe distance away, Myra stops running. She finds a coffee shop and orders a latte. She sits on the patio and takes a moment to gather herself.

  Henna and Rose are gone. Her family no longer exists. She feels alone, but also empowered. While she misses her sisters, Myra knows they can be replaced. As for the cop, she’s not worth worrying about. It’s too bad that she somehow survived the explosion, but it’s now unimportant. What’s important is the game and being with Azazel again.

  After finishing her coffee, Myra resumes jogging. She tosses off her baseball cap and feels the wind rushing through her hair as she sprints through the park. She feels free and wants to be with her beloved again. Her beloved. She feels his presence tugging at her consciousness, as though he’s a part of her.

  Myra stops and makes a decision. She needs to tell Azazel what’s happened, ask him what to do next. A throwaway phone comes out of her pocket and she dials his number.

  When he answers, Myra hesitates. Her throat is suddenly dry. She has trouble catching her breath. Finally, she says, “The cop. She survived.”

  The line is silent for a moment and she wonders if Azazel is st
ill there. Maybe he’s angry with her? She finally hears him say, “The Predators enjoyed your performance today. They were very satisfied.”

  “Thank you,” Myra says, her heart soaring with devotion. She’s grateful those watching the game unfold are pleased. “What happens now?”

  Azazel’s words are exactly what she hoped to hear. “It’s time for us to end the game.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Karma, I want you to think carefully about what I’m going to tell you,” I said. “We have reason to believe these murders are revenge killings.”

  The superstar paced around the living room of her estate with her FFF, Vee, as Charlie and I questioned her. I’d been up all night, dealing with the aftermath of the destruction of my apartment and the appliance store, the murder of the woman we’d tentatively identified as Rose Harris, and Jack’s injuries. Jack was still in the hospital, but the doctors believed he would eventually regain his hearing.

  We determined that the building across from my apartment had been rented by a man who identified himself as Thomas Randolph. The name was false, as was all the identifying information he provided.

  The only solace I could find in losing everything I owned was that no one had been killed and I had insurance that would cover my losses.

  “Revenge?” Karma said, turning to me. “The FBI told me the same thing when they questioned me again, but I don’t understand. Revenge for what?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Charlie said.

  Lucky for my partner, he’d awakened last night, heard the police calls about the fire at my apartment on an iPhone app he uses, and beat Skully to the scene. Our beloved captain was none the wiser about lover boy Charlie snoozing on my mother’s couch while everything went down.

  Charlie went on, “Is there anyone from your past, maybe an old boyfriend, someone you performed with, maybe somebody you went to school with, who might want to cause you harm?”

  “Why do you people keep asking these inane questions?” Vee interrupted, adjusting an avocado micro-miniskirt that matched the green dots tattooed over her eyebrow.

  My partner didn’t respond. Maybe he was hypnotized by the outfit.

  Vee continued, “We’ve gone over this a million times with the FBI.”

  “STFU,” I said to Vee and turned to Karma. “Can you please answer my partner’s question?”

  Vee started to interrupt but I held up a finger to her. “Jail. One more word out of you, I wave my magic handcuffs, and that mini-skirt turns into an orange jumpsuit.” No sleep, no apartment, and no arrests had left me with no patience. “Answer the question,” I said turning back to Karma.

  “Maybe…Earl,” Karma finally said as Vee pouted. “He’s always wanting money from me.” Karma’s eyes darted to Vee, then back at me. “He said he’ll talk to the tabloids if I don’t cooperate.”

  “Talk to them about what?”

  She looked over at Vee again, now holding on her eyes. I saw the FFF nod. Karma took a deep breath, looked back at me, and said, “I’m bisexual.” She paused, apparently searching for the words to explain what she’d divulged. “What I mean is that…I’ve had affairs that go…both ways, but…”

  As I looked at the two women I remembered Natalie saying that she thought Vee was a lesbian and I suddenly knew—Vee and Karma were secretly lovers.

  “What about Trevon?” I asked. “Were you in love with him?”

  Tears welled in Karma’s jade-colored eyes. Vee came over and put an arm around her as the singer said, “I thought I was, but my feelings…they were conflicted.”

  “We’re going to be married someday,” Vee said, defiantly fixing her eyes on me.

  Karma fell against the FFF, weeping.

  After a few more questions, we determined that Karma’s head of security had blackmailed her out of almost a million dollars over the past year, threatening to go to the press about her relationship with Vee. We also learned that Karma was afraid to reveal her sexual orientation because she thought it would hurt her career.

  When we’d finished interviewing Karma, Bernie and I joined Charlie back at Hollywood Station to debrief.

  We settled in at our desks and spent the next few minutes discussing what we’d learned. Charlie, referencing Karma’s love affair with Vee, said, “I guess there’s no accounting for taste.”

  I ignored the fact that Charlie’s was dating Wilma. Maybe the Monkey Penis was affecting his judgment.

  Charlie continued, munching on a donut, “It could be that Vee was jealous of Karma’s relationship with Trevon Jackson and is behind his death.”

  “Maybe,” I said, “but it still doesn’t explain the Nordquist killing and, as we both know, Vee was in the room when she was shot.” I gathered up my purse, took Bernie’s leash, and said, “I’m going to take off for a couple of hours. Why don’t you bring Earl in for questioning, lean on him hard, and see what he gives up?”

  Charlie stood up. “I’m supposed to stay with you. If Skully finds out…”

  I glanced over in time to see Jessica Barlow moving rapidly in our direction. Her watery blue eyes were fixed on Charlie, like a shark closing in on a walrus for the kill.

  “Brown Cow patrol at six o’clock,” I said, cutting Charlie off in mid-sentence. As it turned out, my warning was too late.

  My partner turned as Jaws snatched half the chocolate donut from his hand and slammed her laptop down on his desk.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Charlie demanded, popping the rest of the donut into his mouth.

  “Justice, that’s what’s going on,” Jessica said, opening her laptop. She inserted a disk and made a couple of keystrokes. Charlie continued to protest until a surveillance video of the break room came on the screen.

  “Evidence of your multiple offenses,” Jessica said, pointing at the video.

  We all watched as my partner was seen making multiple trips to the fridge, pilfering everything from Brown Cows to sodas to donuts.

  “Even the donut you just ate was stolen,” Jessica added.

  I looked at Charlie. His face reddened. He seemed at a loss for words. My partner had been caught red-handed and had no choice but to throw himself on the mercy of Judge Jessica.

  “Okay, so I’m guilty,” Charlie finally said. “I’ve got a medical condition. I have to keep my blood sugar up.”

  “Yeah, your diagnosis is being a fat thief” Jessica slammed her laptop closed.

  “I think that was a little extreme,” I said to her.

  Jessica’s hollow shark eyes narrowed on me before swinging back over to Charlie. “I want full restitution for your offenses or I’m going to the DA with the video.”

  “What?” Charlie’s face grew redder. He stood up. “Maybe you oughta go out and look for a real crime, like a homicide.” He took a step closer to the fish. “Come to think of it, stick around. There could be a murder right here.”

  “Is that a threat?” Jessica snarled. “Because if it is, I’ll also go straight to the captain.”

  Charlie turned purple and raised a fist. “I’ve had it with your threats.”

  Jessica put her hands on her hips. She opened her mouth, exposing a row of teeth that shark DNA had made expressly for shredding prey. “And, I’ve had it with your stealing.”

  I knew that I had to intervene or there would be a homicide, and if that happened I wasn’t sure whether to place my money on the shark or the walrus.

  “Let’s all calm down,” I said, trying to step between them.

  I noticed a small crowd of officers gathering behind us, taking in the confrontation. A couple of them made comments, supporting Jessica.

  “How much restitution do you want?” I asked Jaws.

  “These crimes have been going on for months. I personally want $200 and an equivalent amount put in a general restitution fund for other victims.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Charlie yelled. “I’m not giving you a…”

  I took Charlie by the
arm and steered him down the hall, telling Jessica that we’d be right back. I pushed and pulled my partner into a conference room, finally getting him behind closed doors.

  After I let him vent for a minute, I levelled my eyes on him. “You need to pay up.”

  “This is outrageous. There’s no way I’ve taken $400 worth of stuff.”

  “But you did take stuff.” My eyes fixed on him like a prosecutor until he nodded.

  “Yeah, I guess I’m out of control,” he conceded. “Maybe I need therapy.” His lungs deflated as he slumped into a chair. “Jessica’s right, I’m nothing but a fat crook.”

  “I don’t know about that but you do need to pay up or I have no doubt that she’ll go to the DA or the captain. There was a cop prosecuted somewhere back east for a similar situation. You need to take this seriously.”

  Charlie nodded in resignation. “Okay, I’ll take my lumps.”

  A few moments later we were back in front of Judge Jessica, Charlie submissively agreeing to the plea bargain.

  “One more thing,” Jessica said, smugly. “I’m posting this in the break room.”

  She unrolled a poster. It had an eight by ten photograph of Charlie, his arms loaded with food from the refrigerator. A caption at the bottom read, “Brown Cow Crook Captured.”

  Charlie went for the poster, trying to tear it up. Jessica turned and pulled it away, rolling it back up.

  “You post that picture and I won’t be responsible for what happens,” Charlie yelled as the shark swam off into deep water.

  I looked at my partner. He was red faced and out of breath. I had to physically restrain him until he finally calmed down and took a seat.

  I shook my head and wagged a finger at him. “Do me a favor. Stay away from Jessica. Stay out of the break room. And stay at your desk. I’m taking a couple of hours off and getting naked, and, just so we’re clear, there’s no way I’m letting you do surveillance of me while I’m in that condition. If he asks, tell Skully that I took a late lunch break.”